James twitched in his chair, trying not to let his annoyance overtake him. Where the hell was everyone? He was told to meet the group at the opera house, yet here he sat, all alone, pretending to watch The Magic Flute. Tom was here for exactly two minutes, but then he disappeared, saying he needed to use the necessities. He’d yet to return.
James waited for the others to show, and was just about to leave, when he looked across the hall to see half the house party piling into the Marquess of Marlborough’s box. He didn’t see Burke or Rosalie amongst them. Surely that meant the rest of the party would find their way to this box.
But they didn’t.
The first act started, and James was stuck. It would be rude to leave now. People would notice. Curious faces from the crowd constantly glanced his way. He could practically feel the dozens of sets of eyes on him. Some were more deliberate, even giving him a little wave to catch his attention—gentlemen from the club, friends of his mother. Others used binoculars, measuring him as competition or a potential suitor for their daughters.
He was used to it. As the brother of a duke, everyone wanted to find a way to use him to get to George. That’s why he so loathed coming to the opera. He hated this feeling of being on display, sitting at a great height where the rest of the ton could ogle him. And Burke knew this well. Why the hell had he suggested coming? And why wasn’t he here? Something was wrong.
Before he could stew any longer, the edge of the curtain shifted back and the man himself appeared. The look on his face immediately had James on edge. He sank down in a chair next to James, picking up a program and pretending to read it.
“You’re late,” James muttered, trying not to move his lips.
“No, I’m not.”
“You are—”
“I was on time, I assure you. I just didn’t take my seat. I was…otherwise occupied.”
What the hell was he on about? Was he…did he forget to put on a cravat? James narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Where are the others?”
“They are…occupied,” Burke replied, the corner of his mouth curving into a grin.
“Speak sense,” James growled, quickly losing his already limited patience.
Burke lifted his program higher, lowering his dark brows as he pretended to read it. “I need you to come with me, but I need you to stay silent. Not a word, do you understand?”
A sense of foreboding sank into James’ gut. “Burke…what did you do?”
“It’s not about what I did,” he replied. “It’s about what I’m going to do. Now, are you coming or not? Remember, not a word.” Without waiting for his response, Burke slipped out of his chair and ducked back behind the curtain.
Steeling himself, James got to his feet and followed him. The moment he went behind the curtain, Burke was there, a finger to his lips and a warning in his eyes. But James didn’t see him. All James saw was Rosalie…blindfolded, tied to the settee, her throat wrapped in his necklace, her perfect breasts arching forward as Renley devoured her cunt.
James’s mouth opened in shock. Heat rushed through his body, zapping him in the crotch with such force he had to fight the urge to double over, panting for breath. Recovering his senses, he snapped his mouth shut and glared at Burke. The bastard had the audacity to grin.
While the music of the opera’s first act trilled, James could make out the little pants and moans Rosalie was trying to stifle. If she bit her lip any harder, she’d make it bleed.
Burke pointed to one of the chairs, his intention clear. James was meant to sit and watch silently as his two best friends pleasured Rosalie right in front of him. Could he let this happen? This was wrong. She was blindfolded. She didn’t know he was here. Or did she? Would she want to let this happen if she knew? Did she want him to watch?
He focused on her again, taking in every inch of her perfect body. The strength of her arms as she tugged at the restraints.
Holy shit…
They were cravats. One black, one white. And the blindfold was one of her own evening gloves. She was still wearing the other one on the arm tied with Burke’s cravat. For a moment it almost seemed like she was looking at him. Her head lolled on her neck, arching in his direction. Oh Christ, could she somehow see through the glove?
But in moments, she was panting and turning the other way as Burke sat down next to her, claiming her lips in a fierce, open-mouthed kiss. They fought each other with their tongues, Rosalie pulling against her restraints as Burke dropped a hand to Renley’s hair, weaving his fingers through his curls. He gave Renley a little tug and Renley lifted his head away from her wet cunt.
Renley flashed a look over his shoulder, giving James a wink before turning back to Rosalie, sinking two fingers inside her, his other hand on her hip holding her still.
“Have you come yet, sweet siren?” Burke murmured.
“No,” she whined. “No, he won’t let me.”
“Good,” he replied with a grin. “Remember, this is a punishment. The only way to be sure you learn your lesson is to make the memory of this night something you can’t soon forget.”
Entranced, James sank into the chair, eyes locked on the three of them.
Renley worked his fingers in her slowly, his pace almost bored. But James could see the effect it was having on her, coiling her tight. “And why are you being punished?” Renley murmured, kissing her stocking-clad knee.
“I…I left with James without telling you,” she panted, trying to move her hips to get more friction.
His name on her lips had James stifling a groan with his fist.
“And?” Renley pressed, slipping his fingers out of her to rub gently on her sensitive bud. This had her toes curling, but he stopped as soon as he started. He peppered a few kisses on her bare thigh.
“And I…left with George without telling any of you. I—ah—”
Her words were cut off when both men leaned forward together, each taking one of her exquisite breasts in his mouth. James had never felt so hard in his life. His cock could cut glass. And then Renley had to go and move. The bastard left his place between her legs and sat next to her on the settee. James knew exactly what he was doing. If there was any doubt, in the next moment Renley hooked her leg over his own, spreading her wide. Rosalie panted, straining against her binds as Renley sank his fingers back into her cunt and Burke dropped his hand to her bud, teasing her with little circles.
And James could see it all. Every movement. He’d never seen a woman shared by other men before. Group activities were simply not his forte. He’d always been a one-woman kind of man, and even then, it was mainly about scratching an itch. Rosalie was different. Rosalie was…everything. The very idea of another man touching her ought to send him into a rage. He should be committing murder at this very moment.
But these men…his men? To watch them touch her felt like a gift, something precious they were offering him. He didn’t feel like an outsider or a voyeur. Renley and Burke kept glancing his way, heat in their eyes, drawing him in.
This was sensual. Hauntingly beautiful. He wanted to join. He wanted more.
“What was your last offense, sweet siren?” Burke murmured.
“I doubted you,” she whimpered. “I doubted us. I was afraid to let you in.”
“And are you afraid anymore?” asked Renley.
“No,” she replied, biting that bottom lip again.
“Have you suffered enough, siren? Should we let you come?”
“Please—”
Burke flashed James another heated look before leaning in. “I’m not sure I’m ready to end your suffering. You look so beautiful like this.” He nuzzled her face, lifting his wet fingers away from her cunt to swirl them around her peaked nipple.
James’s cock twitched. If he didn’t relieve this ache soon…
“Just imagine it,” Burke teased. “Imagine if we had but one more set of hands here to please you. One more cock to claim you with. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” she begged.
James was on the edge of his seat. He couldn’t look away.
Burke glanced at him again, then back to her, kissing along her collarbone. “If James were here right now, would you let him touch you? Would you let him bury himself inside you and claim you in all the ways you should be claimed?”
“God—yes. You know I would. Burke, I need him. Need you all.”
“Where would you want him if he was here?” Renley teased, taking his fingers from her cunt and bringing them to her lips.
When she arched forward, sucking his wet fingers into her mouth—wet with her own desire—James was ready to die. Renley dared to flash him another grin, his eye trailing down to where James’s achingly hard cock was pressing against his pants. He winked before pulling his fingers from Rosalie’s mouth, leaving her panting.
“Tom, it’s too much. Please, love. Please, let me come.”
Burke gave Tom a nod and they both scooted away from her. As one, they stood, leaving her tied to the settee.
She tried to follow their moments. “Wait—where are you going?”
“Hmm…I think I’d like to watch the opera,” said Tom, passing James with a squeeze to his shoulder.
“What—”
“You’ll be fine in here for a few minutes,” Burke teased. “Besides, you’ve already seen it, so it’s not like you’ll be missing anything.”
She snarled, tugging on her binds. “Untie me!”
Burke held James’s gaze. Stepping forward, he raised a hand and cupped his cheek. James’ eyes went wide. With a look heavy with meaning, Burke brushed his thumb over James’s parted lips. “Take care of our girl.”
Rosalie stilled. “What’s happening?”
Without a backwards glance, Burke followed Tom through the curtain into the front of the box.
James let his gaze fall on Rosalie. She sat on the settee, her tied arms stretched out to the sides, her legs falling closed as she panted, chest and cheeks pink. She licked her lips, the necklace glittering in the candlelight with each movement she made.
James revealed himself at last. “You sure know how to wear a necklace.”
