Page 5 of Mounted By Her Officers

Scrambling up, Lydia noticed what she hadn’t seen before: Denny was betwixt Chamberlayne’s thighs, opening his fellow officer on his prick.

“Do be a dear, and give auntie’s cunny a kiss,” slurred Chamberlayne. “This big, bad captain in the regulars has decided peacetime is over.”

Lydia braced on her elbows, arse aloft for Carter’s use, and leaned down to take Chamberlayne’s fat staff between her lips. He’d wilted, but she’d bring him back to full strength. He was counting on her.

Carter slid back in while she suckled Chamberlayne. Both men inside her exhaled almost at the same time. Lydia giggled. Two officers sighing over her at once! She’d never have imagined this as a lass in Meryton!

“Now, now, stay down and keep our big boy hard,” said Denny with a leer. He placed a hand at her neck, fondling her nape, and sent her a devilish smile, fucking into his fellow captain all the while.

She shifted to take Chamberlayne deeper when Carter picked up speed. “Auntie told me in confidence that she’s been thinking about spraying her load all over your womb,” said Denny. “She seems to think that she’ll be the one to get you with child.”

“Dammit, Denny, you promised—”

Denny laughed and hoisted their friend higher so he might pound into him more ruthlessly. “He doesn’t know that I’ve a mind to do it myself. Might come into the bedroom you share and do it while you sleep, right beside him.”

Shivers started before she even knew that the vision he painted aroused her mightily. That she might wake with her hole filled and dripping, her quim aching, had Lydia’s back arching.

“Fluttered on my cock, that’s it,” encouraged Carter. “Keep talking her through it. Need to plant myself deep.”

“I told Chamberlayne that he’d not beat me in the race,” said Denny. “He may have the biggest club in the regiment, but I’ve loads for that tight snatch. And a mind to make you swell with my wee one.”

Lydia laughed reflexively. “Well, it would be George Wickham’s wee one. Since he is my husband, and the law—”

“Damn the law,” said Carter, hammering into her backside. She released Chamberlayne’s cock from her mouth for fear the thrusts might cause her to bite down.

“Papa,” she admonished. “What has gotten into you?”

“Wickham,” he spat, “will not be taking our baby. Or our girl. Not this time.”

“You’re sweet, major,” she said, unable to disguise the sadness.

Carter clapped a hand on her shoulder and rhythmically brought her back onto his prick. “We. Will. Not. Surrender. You.” His words were delivered in time with his thrusts, and she almost believed it. Almost envisioned a way they could remain together and happy.

“Of course,” she said. They’d pretended so much already; they could add this to the bill.

“We defeated Boney,” said Denny. “You think Wickham is a challenge?”

“Have faith, m’ girl,” said Chamberlayne despite his bliss.

And she found she did. Not the sort preached by Mr. Collins, heavens save her, but the faith that grew over meals and laughter. As a result of men who owed her nothing at all spending greatly to rescue her from one who should have given her everything.

When Carter jerked himself from within her, followed by a hot splash against her thighs, it was one more in a series of cards stacked to prove she’d become a most fortunate woman.

Hand at her quim, Lydia stroked herself until she mewled around Chamberlayne’s cock. It wasn’t as deep or explosive as if he’d spent inside, but her heart moved even if her cunny didn’t quake.

“The next time I release my seed, it will be to give you a baby,” promised Carter behind her.

A baby the law would hand directly to George Wickham. Lydia did not say so. She let herself be held and drifted to sleep.

Chapter 3

The White Hart, Little Horsted

“If only we could drive through the night to reach your country house faster,” whined Lydia when they walked to yet another inn the next evening. “I so despise needing to check for vermin before lying back to take the three of you.”

Carter chuckled and opened the door for her. “Think of the horses, my dear. They’ll not stand for it.”

She sighed and crossed the threshold of the White Hart. “How right you are, Papa, always helping me to understand.”