[Ménage Amour: Erotic Historical Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, HEA]
Gabriel Hawk’s family has long been rutting bastards cursed by their lusts. He can’t find release alone without pain, so he staffs his grand estate Hawksfell Manor with servants to please him. When a storm brings two unexpected guests to the manor, he can’t send them away.
Lady Millicent Crowley must marry within three months to get her inheritance. She’s fond of her third cousin Michael but she wants more. She suggested this ill-fated car trip to sort out her feelings. She hadn’t counted on the storm washing them up on Gabriel’s doorstep.
Gabriel is attracted to both Crowleys, and they both want him, too. He believes passion is passion, but as the three of them learn how to please each other he feels more for them both. Can he learn that love is love? Or will they find out his secret and leave him forever?
A Siren Erotic Romance
"This is the first of many books to be included in the ‘Lords of Hawksfell Manor’ series. How delicious to be in at the inception. Mystery and mayhem lurk within the Manor House, the nearby village, and the surrounding countryside. Hawksfell men seem to be at the core of the intrigue. When a rather vicious storm settles over the surrounding territory bordering Hawksfell Manor, a couple arrives at the door of the Manor in need of assistance. This period piece, set in Yorkshire England, was quite delightful, definitely sensual, and gratifyingly fulfilling on several levels. Gabriel Hawks is the current Earl as his father died on the Titanic only a few months ago. He has attempted to encapsulate his inherited nasty tendencies within his home and continues to try and to cultivate an acceptance of his fate. He is an extremely provocative gentleman and not so gentle man. I was very captivated by him. Lady Millicent Crowley is facing a conundrum. She must marry within three months or lose her inheritance. Oh my dear! She is betwixt and between so many forces that pull at her from within and without that it is astounding she hasn’t gone quite mad. Her great fortitude serves her fairly well, but is inadequate for her need to control her dissatisfactions, her temper, or her libido. She is magnificent! Michael Crowley is Millie’s third cousin and it appears they are to be wed. Michael is all for it, but her ladyship is chafing under the time pressure, the emotional pressure, and an emptiness within her heart. He knows he is expected to make this wedding a reality. I commiserated with Michael’s predicament. He is such a nice lad. The timeframe covers just a few days, but the intensity, complexity, and powerful emotions involved blasted the time covered by a grand magnitude. I felt I was with them for months, not just days. The intricate compression of time, emotion, and tension were wonderfully satisfying. Do join me as I start my Hawksfell Manor adventure!" -- jj, Rainbow Book Reviews
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Millicent looked out the windscreen, seeing little in the pouring rain. She could just make out a large structure high on the hill above them, huge and hulking. Lights burned in the windows. “What is that?”
Michael squinted through his window. “Hawksfell Manor, I believe. Heard of it back at that inn.”
“A manor?” she asked. “Are they a titled family?”
He shrugged. “I think I heard someone talking about the Earl of Hawksfell.”
“Hawksfell?” It sounded so ancient. No doubt the earl was a doddering old nobleman with pinched lips and watery eyes. Lovely.
“It looks like he’s currently in residence, at least,” Michael said.
“Then we shall go impose upon his hospitality,” she said.
Michael blew out a breath. “I suppose we must. And get quite wet in the process.”
“We’re going to walk?”
“What, do you believe fairies will sail across the moors and carry us up to the manor?”
She found a smile. “I suppose not.”
“Come, then. This storm doesn’t seem inclined to lessen any time soon.” His tone was clipped and brooked no refusal. “We’ll prevail upon the earl for shelter and ask him to send someone for our bags.”
Millicent gazed at Michael in astonishment. Where was this forceful man last evening? He climbed out of the car, his hat pulled low, and hurried around to her side. The door opened, letting in a great gust of windswept rain. Her coat was soon soaked, but there was nothing else for it. She took Michael’s hand and stepped onto the slippery road. Michael held her tight, however.
“Easy,” he said, dropping a kiss on her brow. It was sweet and just what she needed at the moment.
“Let’s hurry,” he added.
Her pretty felt hat gave little protection as they set off on the muddy path. Her heeled boots squished and slipped, so she held on to Michael’s arm as they made their way toward the manor.
By the time they arrived, they were soaked to the skin and more than a little uncomfortable. Millicent’s hair had fallen from its pins and hung in soaking hanks from beneath her hat. Michael stomped along beside her, stoic and silent. His face showed a sort of worried determination, and apparently none of the apprehension she felt going to a complete stranger’s door in the middle of a stormy night. How could he not be worried? It was all so Gothic.
They came up to the hulking structure, stopping before a wide door of thick oak. Another blessed flash of lightning showed her a massive iron knocker, so she grabbed it and let it fall. Any sound it might have made was lost as another clap of thunder bellowed overhead.
“Bloody hell,” she heard Michael grumble.
After a shorter time than she expected, the door was pulled open. There stood a portly butler, his lined face showing surprise. “May I help you?”
“I am Michael Crowley, and this is Lady Millicent Crowley,” Michael said. “We had an accident down on the road. May we beg your master for shelter?”
The butler looked from him to Millicent then nodded. “Come into the hall. I shall speak with Lord Hawksfell.”
The place was lit electrically, and Millicent could see that the earl had wealth. From the well-kept look of the place, he also employed plenty of staff to maintain the trappings of that wealth. Fine carpet underfoot, sadly seeping with water and mud now due to her and Michael’s ruined boots. Ornately dressed walls and soaring ceilings gave the place an air of prestige. The furnishings she could see from their vantage point were quite fine.
“Who the devil are they?” she heard a deep voice question from somewhere off to the left.
She didn’t hear the butler’s answer, but a maid soon appeared and removed their coats. Millicent unpinned her sodden hat and handed it to the girl. She disappeared, and Millicent brushed her hands over her skirt, doing little to improve her appearance. “Look at us. Like two drowned urchins.”
Michael smiled. “You look lovely despite the spatters of mud on your face.”
“My face?” She ran her gloved fingers over her cheek, and they came away smeared with mud. “Wonderful.”
“Never mind. Let us meet our host and show him we can be charming guests despite our appearance.”
A few moments later, the butler returned. “Lord Hawksfell will receive you in the parlor.”
They followed the man down the hall, their footsteps squishing as they tread on the thick carpet. After pausing at a double set of paneled doors, the butler opened them and bowed.
“Lady Millicent Crowley and Mr. Michael Crowley, my lord.”
Millicent turned to thank the butler, but her breath caught as she glimpsed the tall man standing beside the crackling fireplace. She couldn’t have been more wrong in her preconceived notions of the Earl of Hawksfell.
Lord, he was beautiful. And far from old. If she had to guess, she’d put his age at just this side of thirty. He was broad shouldered and long limbed. He had dark, waving hair, deep fathomless eyes, and a face she knew she’d see in her dreams. Finely chiseled nose and cheekbones, a cleft chin and full lips. Those lips were not smiling however, and his eyes were sharp as they roamed first over her and then Michael.
“Thank you, Carstairs,” he said to the butler. “Have tea brought in for my…guests.”
“Well, I’m not going to waste another moment,” she said, coming to her feet. “I need you both.” They dropped their dressing gowns, and she stared wide-eyed at their cocks. “You need me, too.”
“Yes,” Michael said, pulling her toward him.
They kissed again as Michael’s hands roamed over her. He held her so tightly, her breasts flush against his chest, her hips cradling his erection. Her nipples throbbed as she rubbed against him.
Suddenly Gabriel’s hands were on her but not as she’d expected. She leaned slightly away from Michael and saw Gabriel stood behind him, his hands reaching around his waist to cup her bottom. She lifted up on tiptoes and kissed his mouth, and the expression on his face was one she’d glimpsed earlier. Hope.
What he did next shocked her, but only for a moment. He turned his head and dropped a kiss on Michael’s neck. Michael closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He looked so beautiful, like a statue come to life between them. She kissed his throat as Gabriel stroked his chest. Gabriel wore a look of determination on his face, that and pure passion. She didn’t know precisely what they would do, but she knew she wanted to be a part of it.
She kissed Gabriel’s firm lips again then kissed Michael’s delectable mouth. She exchanged a glance with Gabriel, communicating that she was open to whatever would happen next. He flashed her a smile then nuzzled the back of Michael’s neck again.
Juices flooded her pussy, and she felt like her skin was on fire. And weren’t they just the loveliest two men she’d ever seen?
* * * *
Michael held Millicent close in his arms as Gabriel ran his talented hands over him. His cock was stiff against Millicent’s belly, Gabriel’s rock hard between the cheeks of his ass. Millicent kissed him, then Gabriel, then stroked her fingers over his cock. His senses were overwhelmed as each of them seemed determined to drive him out of his mind.
“Gabriel,” he gasped as his finger dipped into his ass.
“Easy, Michael,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll ease my way.”
“Your way?” Michael heard Millicent ask.
Gabriel released him and Michael swayed on his feet. His every nerve was pulled taut. Millicent licked his chest, and he trembled.
“Ah, Millie,” he groaned.
Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking him as he felt his blood pound. It was amazing, her loving him as Gabriel…Where was Gabriel?
“You’ll like this,” Gabriel said as he stepped behind him once more.
He teased his ass again then slipped two fingers inside. They were coated with some sort of cream, which warmed with his touch.
“How does that feel?” he asked, moving his fingers in and out.
Michael squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a breath. “So good.”
He heard Millicent make a sound of encouragement, and Gabriel said something in return he didn’t catch. He shifted, and Michael felt the tip of Gabriel’s cock at his hole. He thought he should stop this, but it felt too damn good. Millicent ran her tongue over his nipple, and he shivered. Reaching up, he grabbed onto Gabriel’s shoulders and moved his ass toward him. Gabriel let out a groan and sank inside him. It was incredible, his cock hard and hot and deep inside him as his own began to weep with need. Gabriel held himself still for a moment then began to thrust.
“God,” Michael bit out. “That’s…”
“Does that feel good, Michael?” Millicent asked, her voice betraying her obvious excitement.
He peeped one eye open and saw her watching, her eyes hot and her mouth open. Her face shined with love and passion, and he nearly came in that moment. “It’s beyond words.”
Gabriel murmured words of encouragement behind him, moving in and out as he moaned his own pleasure. Millicent’s hands grew frantic on him, and before he guessed what she was about, she fell to her knees and took him in her mouth. Michael let out a shout as he gave a great shudder. His every nerve was on fire, his ass taking everything Gabriel gave and his cock reveling in what Millicent did.
She nibbled around the head, sweet sounds of pleasure coming from her lips as she stroked him. Up and down, her delicate hands cupping his balls, she took him deep in her mouth. It was too much. Gabriel was hot and thick moving inside of him, Millicent’s mouth was driving him mad. The sensations combined to send him hurtling over the edge.