Destiny's End

Chapter 2: Warrick-1

Chapter 2: Warrick

The milkmaid had a little cottage near the cow pasture, and she agreed to the two of us coming to visit her there.

Thomas brought her a bouquet of his mother’s roses, while I’d found a trinket up in the attics—a silver Celtic cross with white stones embedded in it, hanging from a silver chain.

It was ostentatious enough that it should please her, and in fact she seemed happy with both our gifts. She placed the flowers in a clay vase and set them on the little table in her kitchen. She hung the cross around her neck and admired her reflection in the bit of looking glass she had on her mantel.

Then she giggled, whirled around, and stripped off her clothes. “Ready, sirs?” At our nods, she laid down on her bed.

I found her charms to be overblown and blowsy, but I concealed my distaste. It wasn’t her fault that she wasn’t who I desired.

What disconcerted me was the fact that I couldn’t sustain an erection. I’d had no problem in my own bed with my c**k in my hand and thoughts of Thomas in my head.

I could have wept. If I wanted to keep the wrong kind of talk from getting about, I had no choice but to do the deed.

“It’s all right. Young gentlemen sometimes get overexcited.” She leaned up on an elbow and stared at my groin, no doubt thinking I’d climaxed prematurely. “Suppose your friend comes pleasure me whilst you catch your breath?”

“That sounds wizard.” Thomas stroked my arm. “No need to get upset. Might we try something, miss?”

“Whatever you’d like.” She grinned at him, and I wanted to strike her.

“Thorn, remove your clothes, please?”

I did as Thomas suggested. Being naked wasn’t something we were unfamiliar with—we’d often gone swimming in the nude in the lake on Greenbriers land.

“Very good. Now lie on your back, if you will?”

The milkmaid moved aside to make room for me. “Ah, I see what you’re after,” she said, and rolled onto me.

Before I could fret that I’d never be able to get my c**k into her, a light touch tickled my balls. It wasn’t her fingers on me, though. It was Thomas, his blue-green eyes fastened to mine.

“Yes?”

“Yes!” I was suddenly rock-hard, and I was able to penetrate her.

“All right then, miss. Hang on, because the train is about to enter the tunnel.”

“That’s quite all right, Mr Thomas. I’ve taken it up me bum before. Just use some of that lotion I’ve got at the head of the bed.”

The thought of Thomas being separated from me only by a thin layer of tissue…I couldn’t help myself. I moaned and began thrusting into her.

Sooner than I expected, Thomas had entered her, as well, only instead of being separated, we were flush against each other. I nearly spent right at that moment. “Thomas?”

He shrugged and bit his lip. “Miss?”

“Don’t stop. Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop!”

I had no plans to stop. The heat, the friction—I forgot about the milkmaid and lost myself in the feel of Thomas above us, his c**k moving in a rhythm with mine. It was like nothing I’d ever before experienced.

Thomas scattered kisses over each bit of flesh that he could find. Some of those kisses landed on my shoulder or cheek. Sweat broke out along my hairline, and he ran his fingers through my hair, kneading my scalp.

I was taller than Thomas, and as a result my reach was longer. I was able to wrap my arms around both the milkmaid and my friend. I trailed my fingertips down his spine to his muscular buttocks, and teased the crevasse between. He wriggled under the tender assault of my fingers and spread his legs wider.

Thomas’s mouth was just a hairsbreadth away from mine, and his lips were a temptation I couldn’t resist. I completely forgot this was supposed to keep talk from going around the village, and I kissed him.

His lips were soft and his breath was sweet. He licked at the interior of my mouth, and I sucked at his tongue.

Abruptly, Thomas pulled out of her. “Withdraw, Thorn. Withdraw now!”

Confused, I still did as he ordered. He pushed the milkmaid onto her back and did something between her legs that seemed to ignite a fire within her. She bucked against him and shrieked, and I was afraid she was having a seizure.

Thomas laughed softly. “It’s fine.” How did he know how to do this?

And then his other hand…he caught our c***s and held them together, and stroked.

I closed my hand over his, and together we worked our c***s. It didn’t take long before I spilled my essence all over our hands. Thomas shivered and climaxed, as well, and our hoarse groans mingled with the milkmaid’s cries of fulfilment.

“Oh, la, young sirs. That was loverly. And I thank you kindly for looking after me.”

“Beg pardon?”

“The last thing we want is a baby.”

Oh my God, I hadn’t even thought of that. Thankfully, Thomas had.

“If you want to do this again, Meggie is your girl.” She sighed voluptuously.

Thomas and I got to our feet. I was uncertain about him, but my legs could barely hold me up. The milkmaid—Meggie—had been right. It had been loverly, but only because Thomas had been there. We wiped our chests and groins with the tails of our shirts and dressed.

There was one thing I still needed to do.

“Meggie, you must promise not to tell anyone about this.”

“Oh, aye, Mr Warrick. I promise.” She yawned, and within seconds was asleep.

“Why did you ask her to promise?” Thomas asked. “You know she won’t keep it any longer than it takes the sun to rise.”

No, but it would help put any rumours to rest.

“Let’s go. And you can tell me how you knew what to do with her. I thought we were both virgins.”

“We were.” He sounded smugly pleased as he walked beside me down the lane.

“Then how did you know to pull out before we spent?”

“A few years ago, Father sat me down and had a long talk about what went on between a man and a woman. He was very explicit about it, and I’m surprised my cheeks didn’t go up in flames. One thing he said was that while Mother was looking forward to Bertie and me making her a grandmamma, he’d prefer if they weren’t bastards. You know there are many men and women in the area who have the Fortescue-Smythe colouring.”

I nodded. Of course it wasn’t spoken of, but Thomas’s grandfather had been unable to resist a pretty face, and the same could be said for a good many of his ancestors. His father, though…once Sir Henry had seen Lady Eugenia, he’d never looked at another woman.

“Wait until you’re legally wed before you make any babies,” Father had said.

“D’you mean to tell me that’s how babies are made?”

Thomas frowned at me. “Never tell me you thought the stork brought them.”

“Of course not. D’you think I’m a fool? Everyone knows fairies leave them at the bottom of the garden.”

His eyes grew wide, and then he realised I was having him on, and he poked my shoulder. “Arse.”

“Did he also tell you how to touch a woman?” I couldn’t help feeling a little resentful that Sir Henry would discuss bedroom matters with his son, while my own father avoided any conversations with me when at all possible. I’d had to learn what little I knew by listening in to the grooms talking about it when they were unaware I was nearby.

“No, that was thanks to Bertie. He left a copy of this magazine in his bedchamber.”

“You snoop in his bedchamber?”

“Of course. That’s what younger brothers do.”

I never had. “Very clever.”

“Of course.” He bowed.

I laughed, bumped his shoulder, and then looked around. “Where are we going?”

“I thought we might go for a swim?”

It was a beautiful, balmy evening,

“That sounds like a wizard idea.”

He smiled at me. “I had a feeling you’d think so.”