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Étienne cupped the back of my head in his hand, guiding my mouth down over his cock. Pinned in place, with Bernard’s steady rhythm in and out of me, I could only part my lips and allow Étienne to fuck my mouth. “That’s it, good girl,” he purred. “You look so hot, getting taken from behind with your mouth on my cock.”

Étienne’s filthy words sent me over the edge, and I came long and hard, my pussy clenching and releasing on Bernard’s cock. I tried to scream my release, but Étienne’s hand on the back of my head pushed me down, forcing his cock deeper down my throat, and I could only moan.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” Bernard panted, picking up speed and fucking me harder, prolonging my orgasm. Finally, he pulled out, and I felt the warmth of his seed spill across the small of my back. Étienne released me, and I spluttered slightly as he pulled away from my mouth.

“Get on your back,” he said quietly, and I moved to follow his directions. Étienne positioned himself between my legs. I almost squirmed away, my pussy already oversensitive from my orgasm, but Bernard held me in place as Étienne slipped into me with a soft hiss of relief. “You’re so tight,” he said, almost reverently.

Étienne took me more gently, easing in and out of my slick pussy as his thumb worked expert circles against my clit. Bernard teased and played with my breasts, licking, pinching, nibbling at the sensitive flesh until I reached my peak again. Pleasure rolled over me in waves as Bernard whispered in my ear: “There it is, good girl. Doesn’t that feel good?” His hand joined Étienne’s at my clit. Groaning, Étienne pulled out and finished on my belly with a muffled curse.

Sated, the three of us lay in my bed for some time afterwards, giggling and exploring each other’s bodies in the darkness with gentle fingers until sleep finally took me. When I woke in the morning, both men were gone.

12

Jacques

From my bedroom window, I watched the dawn break. I hadn’t slept all night, merely paced back and forth across my room like a caged animal. My mind raced and wouldn’t allow me to sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, images came unbidden: Agatha, that last night of our marriage, telling me no one would ever love me again; Bridget, fear and disgust evident on her face as she pulled away from me; my aunt, fist raised in anger as she descended on me.

There was no doubt about it; the women in my life had never caused me anything but trouble. I was well rid of them. Only now there was a new woman in my home, upsetting my routine, disrupting the peaceful existence I had so carefully created for myself over the years.

The men were happy. I’d spotted them around the castle, smiling or whistling to themselves as they worked. I hadn’t even realized they were unhappy before. Guilt twisted uncomfortably in my gut. Perhaps I had done them a disservice by exiling myself in this way. If I hadn’t, they never would have come up with this plan that was bound to fail.

I thought of Bridget, the last girl they’d brought in. I’d been reluctant then, but at least willing to try. There would be no trying this time. I couldn’t let anyone else see how broken I was. This new woman could never see into the dark crevasses of my soul; it was too dangerous to allow.

The castle was beginning to stir now. I could hear the distant sounds of my men rising, beginning to start their days. Footsteps passed quietly by my door, probably Vincent on his usual morning rounds. Out the window, I spotted Alexandre on his way out to the rose garden where he spent so much of his time. After a few minutes, the scent of cooking bacon greeted my nostrils: Isiah starting on breakfast. The castle was fully awake now. Briefly, I wondered what the girl was doing, how she would spend her time until she finally left.

Because there was no doubt that she would leave; I couldn’t allow her to stay, couldn’t risk letting another person in, a person who might discover who I really was.

My dark thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door. “Enter,” I said, and Étienne slipped in, quiet as a shadow.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully, and I regarded him suspiciously. What reason had he to be so cheerful this early? “It’s shaping up to be a beautiful day,” he continued, ignoring my sullen silence. “One of the last gasps of summer before finally giving way to fall, I imagine. Have you any thought as to what you want to wear today?”

“I’m not an invalid; I can dress myself,” I snapped.

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