And by him, by Elliot. This man who moved like he always knew what he wanted. Who commanded a room with the smallest word. Only Peter knew a secret. Elliot wanted him, too. He’d always felt that coursing between them. Felt the desire that he shared. A draw toward both men and women, where pleasure was the only king.
It was certainly part of why the marquess had invited him here. Now would he do anything about it?
That was another question entirely.
Elliot was kissing Merry now, deep and probing as she sagged against him, panting in pleasure. She glanced at Peter and motioned him to her. He went, drawn like a moth to a flame. A pair of flames. Elliot didn’t hesitate, but turned his wife toward Peter, even as he kept a hand possessively against her belly and stroked along her side with the other.
Peter kissed her and she whimpered against his mouth. God, but she was sweet and responsive. He wanted to touch her all over, to find all the spots that Elliot already knew so they could work them as a pair and make her come and come and come until they were all drunk on it.
He started with her breasts, cupping them as he continued to kiss her. He stroked his thumbs across her nipples and she gasped against his mouth. He lifted his gaze and found Elliot watching intently, nodding as if to encourage him to go further.
He dragged his mouth away from her lips and down her throat. As he did so, Elliot guided his own hands to her breasts. Their fingers brushed as they passed each other and Elliot’s breath hitched at the grazing touch.
The marquess held her breasts up as an offering and Peter took it, licking her nipple, sucking it until she cried out and dragged her fingers into his hair to hold him steady. He teased and tormented her, loving how her hips ground against both of them in a rapidly increasing rhythm as she sought her own pleasure.
He switched to the opposite breast and repeated the torture all the more. When he pulled away, Elliot brushed his fingers against the nipple Peter had just abandoned, massaging the wetness of his tongue into her flesh as she moaned.
“Shall we have her together, as she wishes?” Elliot asked him, his voice rough and low.
Peter glanced down at her, with her eyes wide and pupils dilated. “Is she ready for that?” he asked.
“I am,” she promised.
Elliot chuckled. “She likes to play,” he said before he tilted Merry’s face toward his and kissed her deeply again. “My sweetest, most proper marchioness loves to have her arse used. Begs for it regularly.”
Peter’s knees almost buckled with that revelation, but he managed to keep himself upright as Elliot pushed Merry into his arms.
“Take what you like, my lady,” Elliot whispered.
Merry wrapped her arms around Peter’s neck, lifting into him as she began grind against him. “You need to be naked,” she growled. “It’s very unfair that I’m the only naked one.”
“It’s very wicked,” Elliot corrected as he opened a drawer beside the bed and withdrew an ornate bottle of oil. She shivered as he brought it back. “And you like being wicked. But I agree. For the next part we will all need to be naked. Who shall go first?”
She pointed at Peter. “Him. Because I’ve never seen him naked before.”
Peter saw the marquess’s cheek tighten ever so slightly. A flash of jealousy amidst the rest. It was gone as quickly as it had come. Still, Peter marked it even if he set it aside for the pleasures to come.
He returned her to Elliot’s arms so he could begin undressing. He did so slowly, unfastening every button with careful determination to draw out the moment. Watching both Merry and Elliot for their reactions to the slow revelation of his body.
As he did so, Elliot poured oil onto his fingers. He moved Merry to the bed, bending her over the edge so she could keep watching Peter. His began to work his fingers against her bottom, eliciting gulping gasps from her as she continued to stare at Peter.
He had finished unwinding his cravat now and tossed it aside, then he unbuttoned his shirt. Her eyes went wide as he tugged it over his head and dropped it on the floor. But it wasn’t Merry whohewas truly watching—it was Elliot. Elliot, who was gaping at him, pupils dilated, unmoving as stared.
“Take off the rest,” Merry gasped, and pushed back against Elliot at the same time, forcing his fingers into her to stretch her further.
Elliot blinked and leaned in to kiss the base of her neck, sucking gently. “Greedy, greedy.”
She ground back against him and Elliot grunted low and deep from his chest. He slapped her bare arse before he reached back into the drawer where he’d found the oil and brought out a small, silky bag.
Peter moved to a chair and began to remove his boots, even as he watched what was happening between the couple with interest and desire thrumming through every nerve ending. Elliot looked at him again and slowly removed a plug from the bag. Peter knew exactly what it was and lifted his brows. It seemed the marquess had not been lying that arse play was part of their regular repertoire.
Merry moaned, lifting her backside higher in offering to her husband, her hands gripping the sheets. “Please, please.”
Elliot stopped looking at Peter and put all his attention on his wife. His focused desire, pointed at Merry…it made Peter’s cock twitch beneath trousers that now felt uncomfortably snug against him. He unfastened the fall front with a flick of his wrist and pushed to his feet to kick them away.
And now he was naked. Merry pushed her arms straight, lifting up to stare at him in a slow pass from head to toe. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
“Indeed,” Elliot murmured, his dark eyes flitting over the same path hers had. Then he went back to looking down at her offered bottom as he worked the plug inside of her slowly to stretch her, ready her, for one of their cocks.
