Page 5 of The Viscount, the Blacksmith, and the Lady

She felt the heat of Owen standing behind her. Reaching over her shoulders, his fingers smoothed across her collarbone before descending to the swell of her breasts, drawing circles around the sensitive peaks that ached for further attention.

The sensations they stirred were beyond what she could have imagined. Hands on her breasts, someone cupping her bottom, squeezing and spreading her, then someone found her dampness. She gasped at the throb that finger awoke.

Simon caught her gaze, his eyes alight with passion. He licked his lips and smiled.

Owen spread his coat on the grass and Simon followed suit, fashioning a makeshift bed. While they undressed—finally—she lay down, one knee bent in a weak attempt at modesty. Here, in the full light of the sun, they could see everything, the padding on her belly, the lines on her full thighs.

Her stockings and shoes were unnecessary now, making her feel more exposed. She quickly removed them while watching the men undress.

Simon tugged off his waistcoat, unwound his cravat, and fumbled with the buttons of his fall. When he shrugged off his shirt, exposing the broad expanse of his chest, Xenia saw black hair dusting the firm muscles.

Owen had worn no cravat. He pulled his shirt over his head while holding her gaze as if he awaited her reaction. His smithy work was evident in the powerful build of his shoulders and arms, the sinewy strength that came from years of laboring over an anvil. He cast his clothes aside with a carelessness born of urgency.

Xenia’s breath caught as she took them in—Simon’s dark strip of hair trailing down from his muscular chest, and Owen’s hairless muscle. As they stepped out of their breeches, need pooled low in her belly. Her gaze traced every hard line and contour on display, sparking a flame deep within her, a throbbing need.

They positioned themselves on either side of her, their nakedness enveloping her like a cloak. The heat emanating from their bodies chased away the chill, wrapping her in an embrace of pure warmth. She lay back, lifting a hand to stroke Owen’s biceps. He was like rock.

Simon’s eyes roved over her and his gentle fingertips followed in a path from her thigh to her breast, stroking but not landing anywhere.

Owen kneeled at her hip, parting her thighs and dipping into the warmth of her wet, hot sex. “God save us, you’re drenched. Seems we’re doing something right, wouldn’t you say?” he teased, his voice thick with desire, yet laced with a playful edge.

“Something—” her breath hitched when he brushed against her nub. Her legs spread a bit more, and she rolled into the touch. “Oh, yes.”

Simon lowered his head to capture one pert nipple with his lips. He lavished it with attention, sucking and kneading. His tongue flicked out, toying with the hardened bud, drawing a gasp from Xenia’s lips. His other hand trailed over the curve of her waist and down the length of her thigh.

Owen continued to trace the damp heat between her legs, spreading her moisture. Just before her eyes fluttered shut, she saw Simon lower his head between her thighs. His fingers joined Owen’s, then his tongue found her nub, flicking and teasing. She cried out. Someone’s finger slipped inside her, and Simon’s tongue continued his worship.

“Make her come,” Owen said with a growl.

She quivered around the finger at the thought of coming. As much as she wanted it, she didn’t want it yet. More tongue, more hands, more eyes watching her—that’s what she wanted now.

As Simon sucked her clitoris, she rode the finger inside her, her thighs brushing against the rough bristles of Simon’s cheeks.

“That’s good, Zee. Let it happen,” Owen encouraged, then licked and nipped the skin on her thigh.

She was too weak to make it last. They were too skilled. A few flicks of the tongue on her clitoris shattered her, and she cried out. “Oh, oh, Simon, Owen, don’t stop.”

They continued their caresses as wave after wave of pleasure engulfed her. The finger withdrew, and Simon lapped up the evidence of her wicked desire. “So sweet.”

Simon spread her thighs wide and positioned himself at her entrance, stroking the length of his cock. The heat in his eyes burned into her. He lifted her legs, angling for his entry, and guided himself with a steady hand, the tip of his cock nudging gently against her. With a deliberate thrust, he breached her warmth, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed within her. Her breath caught in her throat, a soft moan escaping as she felt the delicious stretch, the sensation of being wholly filled by him.

Her fingers dug into the makeshift bedding of their coats beneath her, eyes fluttering closed as she adjusted to him. His thrusts were measured, a rhythm set to stoke the fire building inside her, rather than to achieve his orgasm. Each motion drew a deeper gasp from her lips, her body responding with an eager undulation to meet him stroke for stroke.

“You’re so lovely,” Simon said in a strained voice.

“And wet,” added Owen, who kneeled beside her.

After a succession of purposeful thrusts, Simon pulled out, and Xenia whimpered at the loss of fullness. With a glance at Owen, he moved aside.

Owen crawled into place on his knees. He slid into her with a steady glide that made her shiver with anticipation. He didn’t plunge fully into her immediately, and she enjoyed the graze of his body against hers. Xenia’s heart raced, feeling the difference in their lovemaking, both distinct yet equally exhilarating. Owen’s fingers found her clitoris, flicking his nail gently across it.

“Look at you,” Owen said as he watched her face. “So beautiful, so ready for us.” His thrusts picked up pace, each one punctuated by the careful ministrations of his fingers, stoking the flame that Simon had kindled. Xenia’s world narrowed to the points where they connected, to the building crescendo of bliss that threatened to wash over her in waves.

He drove into her as Simon watched, uttering brief comments that were as obscene as the touch of Owen’s finger on her nub. Simon angled her leg as if to better see where Owen slid in and out of her. The naughtiness of him watching, of her being with two men at the same time, made her quiver around Owen’s cock.

Then Simon licked her clitoris, and she squeaked at the sensation. Owen began to grunt with each thrust of his cock, and she knew he was getting close. Without warning, she burst into waves of ecstasy, her hips rocking.

He suddenly withdrew, and she met his gaze while his hand moved with purpose along the length of his slick cock, strokes measured and deliberate. As he came, his seed spilled onto Xenia’s thighs.