Page 51 of Cruel Dynasty

But Spencer only rolled his eyes. “And once he’s had you, he’ll get bored and move on. Although, if you like it, I’m sure that we can arrange…” He walked his fingers along my thigh and turned a knowing smirk on me. “Just imagine both of us inside you.”

I had. Repeatedly. I wasn’t about to admit that to him, though.

“We’re getting married,” I said slowly. “I’m going to be your wife. Do you really want to share me with your brother?”

“I share everything with him. I always have—even the womb,” he said casually. Spencer reached for the pillow and tossed it to the side.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he lowered his head between my legs.

“A demonstration.” He pressed his lips to my slick sex. Just the light kiss sent me reeling. “Imagine my mouth on you while he fucks you.”

“Why would I—?”

His tongue dipped lower, parting me so that he could close his lips over my clit’s already ragged bundle of nerves. My objection vanished as he sucked harder. Then he was gone. I cried out in frustration and he laughed.

“Imagine that with my cock inside you,” he coaxed.

“I thought it was your mouth,” I said breathlessly.

“My cock. His mouth. Vice versa. We’re identical, remember?”

His words rocketed through me and landed in my core, nearly sending me over the edge.

“Or,” he continued as he dropped a featherlight kiss on my thigh, “we could both be inside you. One here and one—” he bent lower and flickered his tongue over a more forbidden place “—here.”

The dark touch alone sent my body shaking.

“Just think about it, okay?”

I nodded, my hand catching the front of his shirt and wrenching him to me. “Now would you stop talking and fuck me.”

His mouth carved into the crooked grin I was growing to love. “It would be my pleasure.”

21

The bed was empty the next morning. I stretched my arm across the imprint Spencer had left in the sheets and found his place cold. For a crazy moment, I wondered if I’d dreamed the whole thing. I sat up and looked around the room. My gaze landed on a pair of polished Berlutis and I relaxed. He was here. He was real.

Almost instantly my relief turned to dread, churning in my stomach like sludge. If he was really here then he’d really tried to talk me into a threesome with Holden last night. My core clenched as if to send its opinion on the matter. I threw myself back in bed, grabbed a pillow, and smothered a scream with it. How had everything become this screwed up?

After a few minutes, I pried myself from the warm bed. I lingered in the hot shower, hoping the water might clear my head. But when I finally turned off the faucet, I still felt as foggy as the air hanging in the steamy room. I dressed quickly, eager to get this morning’s awkward breakfast out of the way.

Twelve hours ago I’d kissed Holden and asked him to take me to bed.

Eight hours ago, I’d screwed Spencer senseless trying to sate myself.

Why not have scones with the both of them to remind myself of the utter clusterfuck I’d found myself in?

But when I dragged myself onto the veranda, I found Spencer sitting alone with a copy of The Guardian and a cup of tea. He tipped his head without looking over at me as he continued to read. “Good morning.”

I chewed my lip as I took the seat next to his. The morning air nipped at my skin and I scooted my chair closer to the gas heater someone had thoughtfully placed by the table. This morning’s spread was sparse compared to what I’d grown accustomed to at Hensley. I half-heartedly took an egg and topped it.

One of the kitchen staff appeared to bring a fresh pot of hot water.

I smiled up at him.“Could I trouble you for some toast?”

“Of course,” he said brightly. “Will you need anything else?”

“That’s all,” Spencer answered for me. He folded the newspaper and placed it on the table. “It’s my fault. I told them a light breakfast. Holden always orders like it’s a Roman orgy. I’m sure you’ve had more scones than any woman in England this week.”