Who's Riding Red? Page 7

  It wasn’t until Mattius stiffened beneath her, a warm hand clamped over her mouth and a sword pointed at her lover’s throat that she realized something was amiss.

  “Tell me, Mattius. Whose side are you on? Phillipa’s or your master’s? Make your choice quickly.”

  Phillipa gasped at the sound of Jacob’s familiar voice, and she turned to see him, but he held her still.

  “Phillipa’s,” Mattius said. “Always. What would you have me do?”

  “I’d ask you to do nothing. I’ve led English soldiers through Wulf’s shield and to the cottage.”

  Phillipa gasped and fought to face Jacob, her despair and desperation clear on her face.

  “Phillipa has become close to some of the wolves over the past months,” Mattius said. “She is worried for their safety.”

  “I told the soldiers to kill Wulf and only those who attacked. It’s the best I can do, Phillipa, if you still expect to gain your freedom.”

  She nodded in compliance as the first sounds of battle echoed from up the hill.

  “Good, girl,” he said, dropping his sword from Mattius’s throat and kneeling beside her. “God, I missed you.”

  He kissed her and the touch was so familiar that it brought tears to her eyes. Mattius was still hard inside her and she began to move over him as Jacob deepened his kiss.

  “We don’t have long,” Jacob said as she loosened his breeches and took his rigid cock in her hand.

  “Then be quick,” Phillipa said with a smile. “Take me, Jacob. It’s been so long since you’ve been inside of me.”

  He nodded, stripping out of his clothes quickly, and positioning himself behind her. Phillipa lay flat, so her breasts rubbed against Mattius’s chest, and she stared deep into his chocolate eyes as Jacob moistened her rear passage with his finger before lining his cock up with her hole. He pushed in gently and she kissed Mattius on the lips as Jacob slid to the hilt inside of her.

  “Mmm, it’s been too long,” Jacob said. “I won’t last.”

  “We’ll have plenty of time later. Just fuck me,” Phillipa begged.

  Jacob slammed into her just as Mattius raised her hips, so their cocks pistoned in and out of her steadily. Her climax took her by surprise at the dual assault and she clenched her muscles around them. It wasn’t long before she felt the swell of cocks inside her and the hot release of their come as it coated her inner walls.

  They sank to the ground, and Jacob pulled out of her and fell down beside them. She couldn’t help but touch both of them, but the afterglow didn’t last long.

  Growls erupted from her lovers’ throats followed by yelps and whimpers. Jacob’s eyes flashed from gray to yellow even as Mattius’s shifted from black to yellow and then back again. Their bones and faces contorted to that of their wolf form, but their bodies couldn’t seem to make up their minds as they shifted back and forth with impossible speed.

  Phillipa crawled away and stood up quickly. She held her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Surely they couldn’t be dying.

  “Mattius,” she cried. “Jacob. Please wake up.”

  Tears streamed down her face as they twitched on the ground in front of her, and it wasn’t until she heard footsteps coming down the path that she remembered the danger up at the cottage.

  She grabbed the sword Jacob had dropped and turned to face her enemy.

  “Are you going to run me through, then?” Richard asked, his brow arched in surprise.

  “Richard? This can’t be. You’re.

  “Dead?” he answered. “There was a time when I wished for it. Believe me.”

  “But how?”

  “I was turned by one of the wolves who attacked me that night in the clearing. That’s what took Jacob so long to return for you. He’d gotten word from the others that I’d become one of them, and he told me his plan. But the first thing we had to do was kill the one who sired me, so Jacob and I hunted him down together before going to your grandmother.”

  He came closer, dressed in his armor, but his sword was sheathed at his back. “Don’t worry for them, my love. They are making the transition back to their human forms. Wulf is dead. And you and the others are free if they wish to be.”

  Phillipa was speechless. Could all the men in her life truly be well and whole?

  “Would you not greet me with a kiss?” Richard asked.

  Phillipa ran into his arms and kissed him between bouts of laughter and tears. She struggled to get him out of his armor, and as soon as the last of it dropped to the ground she wrapped her legs around him. He laid her to the grass and barely had his breeches pulled around his hips before he was inside her.

  Her fingers dug for purchase in the grass as he pounded into her, but it was a hand she encountered instead. Jacob held her hand and leaned in for a kiss, staring at her with eyes so human it almost broke her heart. Someone grabbed her other hand, and Mattius leaned in to kiss her just as Jacob had done.

  “I love you all,” Phillipa panted as her muscles tightened and her climax slammed through her body. She screamed her pleasure as Richard stiffened above her and spilled his seed against her walls.

  They collapsed together, stealing kisses and long caresses before being interrupted from their bliss.

  “I can see your mother talked to you about the duties of a wife,” a wizened voice said from the edge of the path. “Well, which one are you going to marry?”

  Phillipa sat up, and for the first time in months was aware of her nakedness. The woman standing before her was dressed elegantly, her cheekbones regal, her skin smooth and her posture straight. She looked a great deal like her mother, and not at all old enough to be her grandmother.

  “Grandmother?” Phillipa asked.

  Chapter Twelve:

  Grandmother’s House

  In the end, it was her grandmother who made the decision of who Phillipa should marry.

  After they’d been discovered, her grandmother had handed them all cloaks and ordered them into her carriage for the long ride to Scotland. She’d snuck them all in through the servants’ entrance under the cover of night and into the bedrooms upstairs as her guests before anyone was the wiser.

  It had turned out that Jacob had been a wolf for more than two hundred years, so his name and lands had long since gone to another. Mattius had been a wolf so long he couldn’t remember his life before. That left Richard as the only suitable candidate for marriage. He was the son of an earl, and their son would be a duke, no matter who the legitimate father was.

  They were married in her grandmother’s downstairs parlor, since Mattius and Jacob were still nervous about setting foot inside a church. And then the three of them left together for one of her grandmother’s country estates far away from the prying eyes of curious neighbors and filled with loyal staff who would keep secrets to their graves.

  Her grandmother and her servants followed behind their carriage at a discreet distance, planning to take up residence long enough to get the household staff used to a few changes meaning to make them aware of what they could walk in on at any given time.

  “I’d like to be the first to kiss the bride,” Jacob said once they entered Wiltshire Hall, their new home, and the staff had discreetly excused themselves.

  “I was wondering when I was going to finally receive some attention,” Phillipa said. “I’ve been terribly neglected.”

  “Only because your grandmother refused to let us sneak into your bedchamber,” Jacob answered as he took her into his arms. “It’s been more than a week since I’ve been buried inside you.”

  They’d come to an easy agreement once it had been determined that Richard would be her lawful husband. He might be her husband in name, but all three would be her husband in sentiment. They were equals in her heart and in her bed.

  “I think we should have a rule as long as we reside in this house,” Phillipa said, unfastening her pale blue overdress and letting it fall to the floor, revealing her ivory skirts. She let the skirts fall as well
until she was standing in her chemise and white stockings. She unrolled the stockings and let them drop on the stairs as she made her way up to their bedchamber.

  “What rule would that be?” Mattius asked as they all began following behind her, shedding their clothes just as she was along the way.

  “I have missed our nakedness since our time at the cottage. I’ve grown quite comfortable in my own skin. I don’t think we should wear clothing while we are at home.”

  Phillipa untied the strings at her shoulders and let her chemise drop to the ground, leaving her completely naked. She pulled the pins from her hair and let it fall around her waist, giving her men a come hither look as they stood in the doorway of their bedchamber in various states of undress.

  She lay in the center of the bed her grandmother had had built long ago a bed big enough for all of them to sleep comfortably the red sheets soft and cool beneath her back. She didn’t know about her grandmother’s past, but she’d been very accepting of their arrangement. She planned on getting to the bottom of things in the coming weeks. She giggled as she saw the manacles bolted to the corners of the bed. Yes, she had many questions to ask her grandmother.

  Her men reached her all at once, and the manacles were forgotten. For now. Richard propped her up so she sat against his back while he held her full breasts in his hands. Jacob kissed her sweetly and Mattius knelt between her thighs, taking his first taste of her nectar in days.

  It wasn’t long before they found their old rhythm and moans and sighs filled the room. Richard lay flat on the bed and Phillipa sat impaled on his cock, while Richard filled her from behind. Mattius stood in front of her and he thrust into her mouth as she held on to his hips.

  Joy filled Phillipa’s soul as she thought of a lifetime of such bliss. Her body and her mind were her own, and this was what she wanted. Her climax took her by surprise and she cried out her release loud enough for the servants in the downstairs parlors to hear.

  ***

  Phillipa’s grandmother watched the foursome through the one-way mirror in her bedroom she’d had built in many years before. They made a striking group, she thought, but they still had many things to learn.

  She grabbed the edge of her dressing table as Royce, the wolf she’d rescued for her own at the hidden cottage, bent her over and pushed her skirts up to her waist. He’d had nowhere to go, like many of the others, after he’d made the transition back to being permanently human, and she’d found him strangely compelling as he’d stood naked among the others at the cottage.

  He pushed inside of her without much foreplay, making his fit tight and filling her completely. She bit her lip as he took her roughly and clenched her muscles hard enough around his cock to buckle his knees with pleasure.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, moving faster inside her.

  She watched the group through the mirror as she felt her climax build. Royce’s cock swelled inside her as he began to spurt his release, and it wasn’t until the group in the mirror screamed their own releases that she let herself find her pleasure.

  Royce dropped to his knees behind her, a slightly stunned look on his face, and she smiled to herself. Yes, there was so much she could teach all of them.

  Here’s an excerpt of THE ADVENTURES OF GOLDILOCKS,

  a new erotic fairy tale by Liliana Hart.

  Coming in October of 2011!

  Chapter One:

  Where Victoria Stumbles Upon Something Unexpected

  Texas, 1863

  Victoria Marley hated Texas.

  In all honesty, she’d hated every place the wagon train had stopped once they’d left Boston. She was a lady city born and bred and the thought of living in the country was utterly distasteful.

  Her anger festered as she thought of the short missive she’d received from Harold. She wasn’t even married to the man yet. How dare he have the nerve to demand she cross this Godforsaken wilderness so their wedding could take place at his ranch? Her family wouldn’t even be able to attend the ceremony because of his demands.

  But here she was, doing just as Harold wanted. Her father had told her she was being unreasonable and childish to ask Harold to take time from his busy schedule and come to Boston for their wedding. Harold was an important and wealthy man, and heaven forbid she put the financial security of her entire family at stake just because she wanted to be married in a church that didn’t have sawdust on the floor.

  She sighed and closed her eyes to ward off the pitiful images bombarding her mind. There was nothing she could do about it now. She was mere hours from her destination. And Harold. Not that there was anything wrong with Harold. But she’d prefer not to think about him or what the rest of her life married to him would be like.

  Nausea roiled in her stomach and she dug her fingers into the edge of her seat as they hit a particularly bumpy stretch of the trail. She’d heard the wagon master saying there hadn’t been rain in weeks. The ground was dry and the trails rutted deeply where previous wagon parties had traveled before. She’d give anything for a chance to get out of the stifling wagon and stretch her legs.

  The base of her neck was wet with perspiration and her blonde curls were damp so they clung to her skin like limp stalks of wheat. Sweat trailed down her spine beneath her corset which seemed to make the contraption constrict even tighter around her with every breath she took. Despite the vigor with which she used her fan, it was impossible to turn the hot, stagnant air into anything resembling a cool breeze. Texas had to be just on the other side of hell, plain and simple.

  She could at least be grateful for Harold’s insistence that she have a wagon all to herself. It wasn’t even a wagon like the others in their party. It was a carriage that had been outfitted with sturdier wheels and padded seats. She couldn’t imagine riding all that way on a hard bench and out in the open sun. She shuddered even at the thought of it.

  Harold had been more than happy to take care of the expense of the carriage to assure she wasn’t accosted by other travelers, and he’d paid the wagon master in gold to lead the team of horses and protect her if the need should arise. He’d receive another payment in gold once she reached the station safely.

  Victoria had received plenty of looks that made her skin crawl from some of the other passengers a group of men who were obviously laborers of some kind but all the wagon master had to do was sit in front of her tent at the night with his rifle in his lap, and the men seemed content enough to leave her alone. There was one other married couple on the long trip, but they didn’t have eyes for anything or anyone but each other.

  It was just after noon when the wagons slowed to a stop next to an area thick with scraggly pine trees and somewhat hardier oaks. Even the trees seemed to be somewhat defeated under the blazing heat of the sun.

  Victoria waited until the wagon master (his name was Michael, she was almost sure) opened her door and held out a hand to help her down. They’d have a quick lunch in the shade before making the rest of the trip.

  “How far are we from the station, Sir?” Victoria asked.

  “Bout another twenty miles or so. It’ll be dark afore we git there.”

  He spat a stream of brown tobacco juice to the side of her feet and walked off to tend to the horses. Victoria cringed and held her fingers lightly to her nose to stifle the smell and moved toward her pack of supplies. The last thing she wanted to do was fill her stomach with anything other than water, but she knew she needed to eat something so she grabbed a couple of apples. The small bucket she used to hold her water was empty, so she’d have to find a way to refill it before they set off again.

  Even as she had the thought the wagon master called out, “There’s a crick about a mile southwest through them trees. Drink yer fill. If you drop on me in this heat I’m leavin”€™ya behind.” He spat again and turned back to the horses.

  Like hell he would, Victoria thought. There was too much gold on the line for him to go very far without her. And Harold would probably kill the wagon master if he dared sho
w up without her at the station in Wilmont.

  Victoria sighed and finished her apple, tossing the core into the field for scavengers. She’d never see civilization again. Never wear the latest fashions. She was doomed to live in this terrible existence forever until the sun and dust dried her up like a prune.

  Her water bucket was bone dry, so she grabbed it and began the mile trek to the creek. Once she got out of sight from prying eyes, she tied her skirts in a knot between her legs so she could move more swiftly. Her skirts were already wrinkled beyond repair. Harold would be horrified at the sight of her.

  Harold always loved that she never had a hair out of place. She was beautiful and young, her skin flawless and her teeth white and straight. Her family had a good reputation and she was educated. All the things Harold needed in a wife. It was very telling that he had to come all the way to Boston to find her. And she’d been powerless to spurn his advances. Her family needed her to marry well. So she’d let Harold take liberties with her that she never would have allowed another man, insuring her position as his wife.

  She grimaced as she looked at the dirt smudged on her shoes and the wrinkles in her skirt. Harold wouldn’t be impressed with her if he saw her like this. She wouldn’t be surprised if he sent her all the way back to Boston.

  It was much cooler under the shade of the trees, and the gurgle of water could be heard in the distance. Her steps quickened in excitement. There was no reason she couldn’t take a quick bath. It would cool her off and make her a little more presentable when they pulled into the station. It’s not as if the wagon party could leave without her. And it served the wagon master right after he’d had the nerve to threaten to leave her.

  The trees went right up to the side of the creek on both sides, and the bank was steep with loose dirt and pine needles. She went down a little farther than she normally would have for privacy’s sake until she came to three white boulders that sat in the middle of the creek. Their size acted as a natural dam so one side of the creek was fairly shallow, but on the other side of the boulders she’d be able to wade in waist deep. And the boulders would keep her hidden.