"Why?" I cried out, throwing a hand in the air.
Booker shrugged, and then his lips curled up as he switched hands, taking the fingers now slippery with my arousal and moving them to the crease of my ass. My eyes widened with the first press of a digit into my ass.
Auguste was telling Booker when he was allowed to fuck me. Booker was playing with my ass. Ezra was spying, Amon was trying, Jonathon wasn't even here.
"Oh, Christ, Booker!" I gasped as he filled my cunt again with two fingers and sank the other up to the third knuckle, wiggling it as his smile grew. "Why…why should Auguste tell you what to do?"
"I like Auguste," Booker said, which gave me a funny little warm blooming sensation in my chest. I fell forward, hiding my face in Booker's shoulder as he created a wave of rhythm inside of me. "He said I should do as much as I want with my mouth and fingers today, but to wait until tonight."
"He wants to watch," I gasped, burying my squeaks behind my lips as I rocked between Booker's fingers, sending them deeper inside of me with every stroke.
"I have to be gentle," Booker said, his face turning into my hair as fingers twisted, and I clutched so hard at the fabric of the shirt he was wearing, I thought I might tear it right off.
"I like rough," I whispered.
"I'm made of stone."
I was wonderfully and vividly aware of that, Booker's touch inside me uncompromising. And as much as I found it annoying that Auguste was making decisions for me—stone sounded lovely and smooth and powerful and I wanted Booker now, not later—they were both probably right about being careful. I would get carried away as I always did, and maybe Booker would too, but Auguste would make sure I was safe and not bruised in my overenthusiasm.
I let out a low moan as Booker's fingers in my sex crooked, rubbing against the front of me until my thighs tingled and I froze with the first soft flush of my orgasm.
He turned me on the bed, sinking me into the mattress as I shuddered with relief, a second finger working its way into my ass as I sagged and softened. Booker's fingers withdrew from my cunt, and he settled on his stomach between my thighs, spreading me open for him to study.
"Now mouth," he murmured.
I started to laugh, but with the first stroke of his cool, hard tongue and the way it narrowed to a point to swirl around my clit, my voice was stolen. I'd have words with Auguste later about dictating my sex life, but at least he gave good advice. My hands clapped onto Booker's round head, polished and solid, and I rocked up into the rumble of his approval, my toes curling on the bed beneath me.
* * *
Leaves crunched under my feet,my chin lifted high to catch the warmth on my skin. It was sunny out and surprisingly nice weather, and I had found a note from Ezra in my bedroom after lunch inviting me to be caught out by the loch. I'd wandered farther around the edge of the loch than ever before, past the bench I'd napped on and dreamt of Amon weeks ago.
I wasn't sure if Ezra was teasing me with anticipation or if we were wandering in opposite directions, but I was debating letting him find me in the grass simply to take a break, when I finally heard a male grunt.
I was tucked behind a line of trees, but I could just make out a little grassy clearing on the other side. My steps paused, listening, and a longer groan caught the breeze heading in my direction, followed by a few feminine catches of breath. My eyes widened, and I moved slowly around the edge of a tree, off a path and closer to the clearing.
Blonde hair peeked through tall grass, bobbing in the telltale rhythm that matched the moans and sighs of the couple. A sudden blaze of anger rushed through me.
Ezra wouldn't…would he? Had he given up waiting on me or not expected me to find him in the middle of—
My fingers clenched to a fist, and I jerked to march forward, lips parting and ready to bark out his name, when a calloused hand clapped over my mouth.
"It's me, puisín."
I sagged, relief shocking and embarrassing as Ezra wrapped himself around my back, lips pressing to the shell of my ear.
"Meant to meet you, but then I caught these two," he whispered as quietly as he could.
"Peeping Tom," I mumbled into his palm.
He shook his head, beard scratching against his cheek. "Not like that, come see."
Ezra lifted me off my feet, turning me in his arms so I could wrap my own around his shoulders. It would look strange to anyone who might see us, but since we were the ones creeping up on a couple unawares, that probably didn't matter.
Ezra didn't take us very close, only as far as the next tree, but it was enough to make the blonde in the grass clearer. Ezra clapped his hand back over my mouth as my face went slack with shock.
Mary! Mary with flushed pink cheeks and a furrow of aggressive concentration on her face. My brow furrowed with confusion—why should this be any secret?—and then the man Mary was fucking sat up suddenly, and it was a good thing Ezra had a tight hold on my mouth because I wanted to shout.