The Rightful Lord (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 3) by Sahara Kelly (13 ebook reader .TXT) 📕

Again, I would summon words that would convey how it felt - but alas, I have none. 

All I can report here, in this journal, is that they both brought me slowly and steadily to the brink and then together moved in rhythm until releasing within me. 

That moment, that sensation…it was beyond words, and it propelled me headlong into a massive release of my own. 

I felt them holding me as I shook, and I know I screamed from the sheer force of the ecstasy shimmering over me. To spasm against one cock is wonderful. To have that same sensation doubled? I cannot do it justice. 

I would like to think that Harry and Gabriel were as stunned as I at the duration and power of our mutual release.

Evan and Jeremy were wide-eyed, and as I eased from my peak, I saw them pleasuring themselves. Apparently watching such a display had aroused them again.

It was an additional moment of joy; almost as if we all shared one single moment of physical bliss.

Needless to say, we tumbled apart, exhausted, more than a trifle disguised, and limp of limb.

And we slept there, on my bed, cuddled into a heap under the quilt. 

I cannot imagine a more wonderful Christmas Eve.

*~~*~~*

Gwyneth blotted and closed her journal, locking it away in the small drawer of her bureau. Why she felt compelled to write such things, she wasn’t sure, but she knew that at some time in her later life, she’d re-read them and recapture some of the magic her gentlemen gave her.

She smiled at the memory of waking with Harry on one side and Gabriel on the other.

It was unusual…once their play had ended, the gentlemen usually settled her down and then left her with kisses and wishes for a peaceful night’s sleep. After any one of them, she usually experienced just that.

But to be honest with herself, she liked opening her eyes to find herself tucked between two such handsome men. Their bodies were warm and firm, and the comfort and security she felt at that moment had been unique.

She stared into the mirror, wondering at the look upon the features reflected there.

Was this true happiness? The light in those eyes? The gentle curve of those lips as a smile lingered close…

How did one describe a moment like this, when one realised how very much one was loved? Because that, Gwyneth knew, was what had put this particular expression on her face. For the first time in her life she was completely, absolutely loved.

Tears stung at the thought; four incredible men had found something in her to love. Five, if one counted Royce, and she would like to. Very much.

Was pride there? Could she see the confidence that her newfound knowledge gave her? A stronger tilt to her chin, perhaps. Or just a wider smile.

These men, and their unstinting affections towards her, had changed her from the woman who planned on shutting her heart away forever, to a woman who openly adored all of them. With her body and her heart.

She trusted—something that was foreign to her. She found solace and security, also unusual.

All these things had made a difference in how she felt about herself, her abilities, her strength and her position here as Lady of Wolfbridge.

How easy it was to do good when such examples surrounded her every day and every night.

And now, for a change, every morning.

What a lovely Christmas surprise—two fine men in her bed.

Jeremy had come in, bearing the usual tea and hot water. The humour between them was good-natured and quite masculine as he chided them for lingering and bid them remove themselves and their hard cocks so that she could attend to her morning toilette. Darcy had accompanied him and frisked around the bare feet, yapping and making little mock attacks on wiggling toes.

She chuckled and noticed with interest that Jeremy’s comment was accurate. It seemed that gentlemen awoke with quite respectable arousals. As he pulled the curtains aside, they were revealed in all their appealing and rigid glory.

But Jeremy was firm about their leaving and said so in blunt terms. They obeyed, laughing and teasing him back. It wasn’t until she actually moved that her body let her know of more than a few sore muscles.

Groaning, she slithered to the floor, grabbed her robe and prepared for the day. Sipping her tea, she looked out the window to see fresh snow had fallen overnight as predicted. Thankful they weren’t planning on any outdoor activities, she began her day with laughter, tea and the affectionate licks and kisses from her pup.

“Where did you spend the night, little one?” She rubbed his ears, sending him into a blissful frenzy. “With Royce, I expect. You like the strong ones, don’t you?”

She paused at that thought and finished her tea. Were Royce and Harry strong? Darcy certainly preferred their company, so perhaps they were, although nobody would call the others weaklings in any sense of the word.

It was an interesting notion that kept her mind preoccupied as she prepared for the hours to come.

Christmas Day. She smiled at Darcy. “We are going to have a lovely time, my sweetling.”

He yapped his agreement, letting his little pink tongue dangle over his chin.

“And yes, I’m sure Evan will have a special dinner for all of us, including you.” She tied her slippers and picked up her warm shawl. “Are you ready to go and see everyone?”

His answering bark was quite clear, followed as it was by a trot to the door.

“Very well then.”

With a smile on her face and warmth in her heart, not to mention a few sore places on the rest of her, the Lady of Wolfbridge and her dog cheerfully departed her chamber for breakfast.

Chapter Twenty-Five

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