But then she felt the object in her bottom, sliding out, leaving her empty, her body throbbing with disappointment. Just as she began to cry out and turn her head to see what Mr. Blackstone was doing, the smooth, thick heat of his prick kissed her throbbing eyelet.
“Oh!” she moaned, as he pushed inside of her. He was far larger than the plug, but the sharp, stretching pain was momentary.
“Shhh,” Dr. Doyle whispered in her ear, cradling her head to his shoulder. “Submit your body to our will. Relax.”
His fingers played with her hair, and her eyes went wide and her body stiff for a moment, but then she melted against his embrace as Mr. Blackstone slid inside of her, filling her completely, until the hardened muscles of his chest, damp with sweat, were against her own.
Between them, enveloped in the strength of their bodies, filled with their manhood, Lina’s body seemed to become almost liquid. She was encircled by their protective desire and could not escape it—nor did she want to. Soon the ache between her legs was overpowering her again, and she could hear the moan in her chest as it blossomed, fluttered in her throat, and a rushing sound filled her ears. But the two men moving against her body left her no room to squirm.
The pleasure that overtook her nearly made her lose consciousness. She was screaming in pleasure, but heard herself as though from far away. Her legs shook against theirs, among theirs, and her body squeezed and pulsed against the two pricks inside of her.
But they were not done, they only slowed as she spent away to a shuddering limpness between them; slowly, plunging deep inside of her so that she was entirely full, then teasing her as they rubbed against her insides, pulling out, then thrusting deep inside again.
“I cannot,” she murmured, breathlessly, “it is too much, I cannot...”
But what she “could not,” she could not know. She could not have more pleasure, and yet she could. It mattered not, for they slowly moved against her body until again the pleasure between her legs began to claw inside of her and rise, like a swell. Stars began to form at the edges of her eyes, and she was certain it would be too much this time. Too much pleasure, and she would not be able to withstand it.
The second time she careened over the edge of that tidal pleasure, she could not scream. Her mouth was open but her body seemed to freeze, and no sound could leave her lips. Vaguely, through the haze of that terrifying pleasure, she felt the seed of first Dr. Doyle, and then the deep, thick thrusts of Mr. Blackstone’s fat prick in her bottom, before the hot wetness of his seed filled her there as well.
For a long time, they remained entangled in each other’s arms. They were both inside of her, around her, and she felt as safe and fulfilled as she had ever imagined she could feel in her life.
But when Dr. Doyle stirred, and pulled away from her to look her in the eyes, she remembered that beneath all of this bliss there were unsettled questions and what seemed like dark secrets. Her expression clouded, and Dr. Doyle, always sensitive to her troubles, touched her cheek.
“What is wrong, my darling Lina? We have not hurt you, I hope?”
Lina chewed on her lip, and shook her head lightly. Behind her, Mr. Blackstone was also stirring, though he did not release her from his arms, but instead wrapped them more tightly around her and entwined his fingers with hers. His lips grazed her shoulder.
“Then what, my pet?” Dr. Doyle asked her.
“I’m just...” Lina began. She found herself, as so many times before, tongue-tied, and unable to finish her sentence. So many thoughts and feelings sprang up in her mind and heart, and they all collided together. “I’m just... so happy... and you’ve made me... I don’t understand why... and haven’t we done something so very...? And I don’t... I simply do not understand!” She finished with exasperation, for she was very much aware that what she was saying made very little sense.
Dr. Doyle kissed her on the forehead. “I promise to you that we shall explain everything, and that all will be quite well, and we shall take care of you and keep you as our bride. For now, I recommend sleep.”
Sleep. Sleepdidthreaten to claim Lina; it made her eyelids heavy, her limbs felt like stone. The warmth of their two bodies enveloped her in a haze, but she resisted the urge to drift away into her dreams. “But... how... what...?” she heard herself saying.
She still didn’t understand, just as she had understood nothing since Mr. Blackstone had come to Green Grove Manor, and she had seen his blue eyes through the hedge.
“Sleep now, my love,” Dr. Doyle said.
* * *
When she awoke, theywere both dressed. Mr. Blackstone was seated on the edge of the bed, his fingers moving along the length of her arm to stroke her gently awake. “It is time to begin the day, Lina, darling,” he said. “I wanted to wake you before I began my work.” He leaned over to kiss her. “And Callum says I must remain here to explain matters to you,” he added, glancing at Dr. Doyle.
Dr. Doyle was holding a dressing gown of fine white silk with black embroidery so that Lina could step into it as she left the bed. A marvelous breakfast had been arranged on a table in the dressing room, which Lina had—for very clear reasons—not noticed the evening before.
Dr. Doyle slid the gown over her shoulders, and Mr. Blackstone kissed her again, and then they escorted her to the table, where they nearly fell over each other making sure her every whim and desire was taken care of immediately.
“Well,” Dr. Doyle declared, as she bit into a scrumptious toast with rose hip jam slathered on it, “I suppose we should explain... matters to you plainly.”
Lina nodded and covered her lips to murmur, “I should very much like that,” without the toast falling from her mouth.
“Rohan—Mr. Blackstone, but you shall, whenever we are not engaged in our intimate games, call him by his first name should you desire, and me as well—and I discovered our predilection for sharing women when we were soldiers in the war together. A man has a great deal of time to talk to his brothers in arms during the long hours of idle waiting that are so prevalent in a war.” Dr. Doyle stirred something into Lina’s tea and handed it to her. “This will be quite refreshing after a night of such exertion,” he told her, smiling.
Lina sipped the tea, and found it to be so. But she wanted the rest of their story, so she looked at him expectantly.
“Naturally,” Dr. Doyle said, with a glance at Mr. Blackstone, “such arrangements are disallowed in this rather... conservative society. Rohan was to inherit a great fortune from his uncle, but only upon the condition that he marry respectably. And naturally, no woman who would live such an unconventional lifestyle would conform to such a definition.”
“Fortune, however, smiled upon us when we were both injured at the front. We were sent back to England with several soldiers who were plotting a scheme to legitimize their marriages to the women they loved, and we listened to their plans. These men had wild plans, which involved stealing the identity of another man who looked very much like them, for they had both been horribly disfigured in their relative misfortunes.”
