Page 41 of The Viscount, the Blacksmith, and the Lady
Owen withdrew first, reaching for the cloth he’d used on Xenia and washing away the remnants of his passion.
Simon carefully lifted Xenia from his lap, setting her on the cold floor with a tenderness that belied the fervor of moments ago. She caught his gaze as he stepped from the bath, water cascading down the planes of his muscular form. Owen handed him a length of toweling before wrapping Xenia in another.
Together, they attended to Xenia, drying her curvaceous body with the same care they had shown in undressing her. Xenia returned their attentions, helping to dry their broad shoulders and sculpted chests, her fingers treasuring the feel of the taut muscles. Bathing together might not be practical regularly, but she would ensure it happened often enough.
Once dry, they made their way to the bedchamber, the scent of soap surrounding them. The bed, with its clean linens and soft pillows, beckoned invitingly. After extinguishing the candles, Simon and Owen took their places on either side of Xenia on the mattress, their bodies aligning naturally as they lay.
Simon drew the covers over their sated bodies, his arm slipping around Xenia’s waist, pulling her back against his chest. His skin was cool from the bath, soft and slightly damp on her back. She sighed contentedly, nestling closer into his embrace.
Owen leaned in to press a gentle kiss on Xenia’s forehead, his breath caressing her skin. She looked up, offering him a sleepy smile, and with the moonlight streaming through the window, she saw him return it. His hand found hers beneath the covers, fingers intertwining. She mouthed, “I love you,” and he kissed the air between them.
As she closed her eyes, she found a name for what she’d felt these past few days, even while rocking endlessly in the carriage. Contentment. She had everything she needed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Xenia awoke to the brightness of morning light against her eyelids, for a moment panicking that she’d overslept and was late for work in the bakery, until the softness of the sheets reminded her of her new circumstances. She stretched languidly beneath the silken covers, her hand reaching for the solid warmth of Owen and Simon beside her. But the space on each side was empty. Owen must have left some time ago. But where was Simon?
Rising from the bed, she let her gaze wander over the bedchamber. She hadn’t paid it much attention before, her mind always in the depths of carnal desire when she came into the room. The walls, dressed in sumptuous wallpaper, enclosed her in a world so different from the cozy confines of her childhood room above the bakery. She felt as if she had stepped into a dream, or rather, stumbled into a storybook where she was still learning the rules of being a lady of the manor.
Xenia slipped into one of the finely stitched day gowns that Sarah had given her. She pinned up her hair, giving up the fight against the few tendrils that refused to be tamed. In the mirror, she could see how those curls softened her face. Both Simon and Owen had a tendency to brush the hairs back, which was a gentle touch she enjoyed. Satisfied with her looks, she went in search of Simon.
As she neared the dining room, the aroma of fresh coffee pulled her forward. Simon already sat at the head of the long dining table, his tall frame relaxed in the high-backed chair. He looked up from his newspaper and greeted her with a tender smile that was echoed in his eyes.
“Good morning, my dear.” He set aside the paper and stood to welcome her. “I trust you slept well?”
“Very well, thank you.” She poured herself a cup of tea from the pot on the sideboard, still warm, making her think he might not have been awake long. Sitting in a chair at his side, she observed him over the rim of her teacup, noting the way his gaze lingered on her. The way he looked at her made her feel warm, loved. Eternally happy.
Simon took a drink from his coffee and set the cup down again. “I thought we might go into the village this morning.”
“I must face my parents. And pack the rest of my clothes.” She made a mental list of her treasures she would bring with her, including her needlework. Uncertain what her new duties involved, beyond the pleasurable ones of keeping Simon happy—and Owen—she would be glad to have something to keep her hands busy.
“We shall depart after breakfast. There are other arrangements we must discuss. I’ve written to inquire about a lady’s maid.” He paused, reaching out to brush her cheek. “And while I would much prefer to keep you naked in bed round the clock, we shall pay a visit to the modiste in Chester this week. You will need gowns suited to a viscountess.”
“New gowns.” Her smile widened. “How delightful.”
“We shall dress you from the skin out. Perhaps a few nightgowns, too, although I much prefer sleeping beside your naked body.” His gaze dropped to her breasts, which swelled as if he touched them. “But I cannot be selfish.”
She covered his hand with hers, stroking her fingers over one of his as if it were his shaft. “I find that most of your so-called selfish desires please me.”
“Is that so?” His breathing changed, quick breaths much like when they made love. “If it wouldn’t shock the servants, I would indulge in a few right here.”
Heat warmed her in places that were still tender from their lovemaking the night before. At times she thought she’d never be sated, but having two men pleasuring her also meant twice as much friction on tender skin. Owen enjoyed taking her with his mouth as much as his erection, for which she was grateful, but her best orgasms came when she was filled front and rear with their cocks. She was sure they—all three of them, not just her men—would eventually settle into a routine of a few nights a week to enjoy each other. The pace they kept up now, much of which was begun by her, would wear her out.
She forced herself to focus on their original topic, the items she would need in her new life. “I don’t need many gowns, and as you say, I find myself not needing nightclothes...”
“Xenia,” he interjected gently, “this is your home now, your life. I wish only to see you happy and at ease here. You will make new friends who will expect you to wear the latest fashion. I won’t have you feeling as if they are above you.”
Her heart swelled at the sincerity in his hazel eyes. “I appreciate all you’re doing for me. Truly, Simon, I am grateful.”
“Some of my reasons are selfish, too. I can’t have people thinking I’m a miserly husband. I want all men to look upon you and be envious of my beautiful bride. To see you take your place by my side fills me with no end of joy.”
“A poor wife I would be if I denied my husband his happiness.” She was such a lucky woman, to have a man such as this love her. Owen, too, although his role didn’t seem to include being a material provider. He gave of his heart, same as Simon, and that was more than she deserved.
After Xenia was introduced to the servants, she and Simon went into the village, as discussed. As they alighted from the carriage in front of the bakery, guilt hit her once again. Having excluded her parents from such an important moment would plague her for the rest of her days, she feared.
The ring of the bell on the door as they entered comforted her with its familiarity. “Papa, Mama,” she called out.
Her parents came out from the bakery’s kitchen, their faces bright with happiness. Mama held her arms out for a hug. “Lord and Lady Kinnerton. I never could have imagined it.”