Elliot moaned against his mouth and Peter drove forward, pushing away the emotions that took him off guard even as he pushed his tongue into Elliot’s mouth. The marquess sucked it greedily, his arms coming around Peter, his hands gripping against the bare skin of his back.
It was a crushing meeting now, a war for passion. Elliot pushed him back until they hit the wall and held him there, driving into him like he could lose himself forever. Like he wanted to.
After a few minutes, the kiss slowed, Elliot’s fingers loosened a little against his skin. Peter moved him, switching their positions. He leaned into the marquess, feeling the pulse of Elliot’s cock beneath his dressing gown. Peter so wanted to slide his hand beneath and stroke him, drop to his knees and suck him, turn him around and fill his arse until they both spent.
But he could be patient. Wait until Elliot was so needy that he would cross the barriers of his hesitations easily. So Peter kissed him once more, gently and then stepped back.
“Come now, my lord. I believe your wife is waiting for us in the kitchen. Let’s eat.”
Elliot blinked at him, like he was trying to understand what was happening. Then he nodded. “Very well.”
Peter turned and padded from the room, feeling Elliot behind him with every step. They made their way silently to the kitchen. When they entered, Merry, who had been preparing their plates, jolted and came toward them.
“Elliot,” she said.
Peter stifled a smile. Her concern was so clear. That drive to protect Elliot. Not Peter. But then again, he didn’t really need protection anymore.
“I’m fine,” Elliot said, but his voice trembled as he sat down at the kitchen table and stared at the plate she had prepared.
“So what did you…decide?” she asked softly.
Peter leaned in and kissed her, feeling Elliot watch them. “That we have all the time in the world,” he said as he parted from her and sat down across from Elliot. She sat at the head of the table and they ate together.
Peter steered the conversation, drawing them all away from the questions and desires that had flowed between them since his arrival here. Instead they spoke of theatre and music, books and art. He felt both his lovers relax as they did so. Elliot even cracked the hint of a smile here and there, mostly when Merry became animated about a subject, which was often.
It was comfortable. Not that Peter wasn’t fully aware of both of them, not that he didn’t crave the little glimpses of bare skin through each of their dressing gowns.
But waiting, though difficult, sometimes made the ultimate surrender all the better. And he was certain that would soon enough be proven true once again.
* * *
Merritt
The sea was gentle as Merritt walked along the sandy shores in her bare feet, her gown bound up around her knees so that the water didn’t weigh her down when it lapped around her toes. The afternoon had been…comfortable. Casual even, at least on the surface. After they ate, they’d all gotten dressed with only a little bit of touching and teasing and come down to the water’s edge.
They’d walked together a while, a chatty threesome that would have seemed very innocent if caught this way. Only Merritt could still feel the tingle of the morning between her legs. And when she glanced back over her shoulder, she still saw the tension between Peter and Elliot.
They stood together at the edge of the bluff, watching her. And yet they were clearly very aware of each other. Elliot was turned into Peter, and Peter occasionally let his fingers play along Elliot’s. A tease. A temptation.
And a fire was building with every single little grazing touch.
Merritt still had no idea what they had discussed when she was out of the room. What they had done. But she shivered every time she imagined it and what would happen next.
Peter raised a hand, motioning her back, and she moved their way. As she did so, Peter pressed a hand against Elliot’s chest and leaned in, his mouth close to her husband’s ear. He said something and Elliot shuddered from head to toe, his expression one she recognized very well: pure desire.
She reached them and let one hand settle on Peter’s chest as she edged her way up to Elliot. She kissed her husband and he murmured her name against his lips. When they parted, he looked troubled, glancing back and forth between her and Peter.
“Will it change us?” he asked, speaking to her rather than Peter.
She knew what he meant. She knew what he feared on some level. She’d felt the same when he offered Peter up to her, and yet…it had only brought good things. Powerful things.
She took his hand and lifted it to her chest, holding it so he could feel the skip of her heart beneath his fingers. “Yes,” she said. “Of course it will. But change isn’t always bad, is it? We will grow from it.” She leaned even closer, her lips a whisper from his. “And when I imagine what you two will do to each other, I can hardly keep from touching myself. Touching you.”
Elliot held her stare for a moment and then nodded toward Peter. “Then I want this. I want to go back inside and have you both. Truly have you.”
Peter caught each of their hands in his and tugged them toward the cottage. “Then let’s go.”
* * *
