Love's Strategy Read online

  She couldn’t help but dwell on the most selfish disadvantage, the fact that she would never be loved. Oh she believed that they liked her well enough, they certainly desired her. But Valentine and Kurt were in love with one another. She was merely a means to an end for them. After their meeting today she didn’t think it immodest to say a pleasant means, but a means nonetheless. There was still a foolish, womanly part of her that longed to be loved. She wanted flowers and poems and declarations of undying love. She’d never had that and she wanted it so much it was an ache in her chest. Worst of all she thought she’d want it from Valentine and Kurt, and she knew she’d never have it. And there was the biggest disadvantage of all, a lifetime spent longing for what they could never give her.

  While the advantages were not as numerous as the disadvantages, in importance they far outweighed them. Number one of course was the financial security marriage to them would provide. After three years of hellish poverty Leah couldn’t underestimate the importance of that. The future provisions for the children were generous in the extreme and would alleviate a great burden from Leah. She also believed marriage to Valentine and Kurt would be pleasant. They were handsome, intelligent, kind and clearly heroic if one took into account their war service. No, marriage to men such as they would not be a burden. And she knew, after only a few short hours of acquaintance, that they would never abuse her or the children. Which brought her to what might be the greatest advantage—freedom from Sir Horatio.

  Leah had been so young when she married. Thomas Marleston had been a pleasant enough young man, with a modest income, a sunny disposition and lively conversation. Leah had not loved him, but to her young mind marriage represented security, something that had been lacking in her life since her father’s death. It took less than a year for Thomas to grow bored with his young, pregnant wife and seek his pleasure elsewhere. He did not, however, turn to another woman. Instead he turned to gambling. At first he was moderately successful, returning home with little trinkets for Leah purchased with his winnings. Most of the money was reinvested, as he called it, by paying for his next gambling venture. For the next several years it was a constant cycle of up and down, selling her jewels one day to buy new the next.

  When Leah became pregnant with Esme she pleaded with Thomas to stop gambling. They had enough at that point to live modestly on the interest of what money they had, supplemented by a small allowance provided by his older brother. Sir Horatio had inherited all of their father’s wealth and remained unmarried. Thomas had ignored her pleas, eventually returning home only rarely in order to avoid her censure. One year before his death Thomas had finally gone bankrupt. He’d pleaded for his brother’s assistance, and Sir Horatio had allowed them all to move into his home. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but Leah soon realized that Thomas had no intention of ending his gambling. Now that he didn’t have to worry about providing for Leah and the children he gambled more heavily and lost just as heavily. He was never home and it didn’t take long for Sir Horatio to start abusing Leah.

  It started slowly, an unpleasantly firm grip on her arm if she displeased him in some way. Perhaps dinner was not to his liking, or the manor was not clean enough. He was always taking her to task for her inability to control the servants. Then he began finding fault with her person. She was too fat, too thin, too lazy. Her clothes were too tight, she was too loose, and so on. She complained to Thomas when he finally came home after the abuse had gone on for several weeks, escalating each time. His response had shocked her.

  “Well, it is his household after all, Leah. You must strive to please him.”

  “But, Thomas, he is hurting me. Do you understand? Look, look at this bruise.” She showed him her arm, which had a dark purple bruise around the wrist. When he’d twisted it she’d thought at first he was going to break it. “And last week he slapped me. Slapped me, Thomas! In front of the servants.” Leah started to cry.

  “Oh stop your sniveling, Leah. Many was the time my mother could hardly walk for the beatings she took from Father, and she never cried about it. She just tried harder to please him. I expect Horatio is like him, he has a very exacting nature. He expects the best from everyone. You’ll simply have to adjust.” He’d left the next day.

  Leah’s greatest fear was for the children. She almost never allowed them to leave the nursery, and took to hiding there herself when she could. Thank God Sir Horatio had little use for them and preferred they stay out of his way. Leah had no one to turn to, nowhere to go. Her mother was scared of Sir Horatio and had very little income from her father’s estate. With no brothers or cousins or uncles, Leah was adrift, drowning in fear for herself and her children. Then Thomas was killed, knifed to death in an alley in a London stew.

  The day after Thomas’ death Sir Horatio had finally pushed Leah into running. He had casually mentioned that they would marry as soon as her period of mourning was over.

  “W-what?” Leah had stammered, her heart trying to pound its way out of her chest.

  She had thought Sir Horatio a devil before, but the words he spoke then chilled her to the bone. “I knew as soon as Thomas came to me with his gambling debts that it was only a matter of time before his unsavory pastimes resulted in his death, either by someone else or his own hand. I’ve bided my time this past year, Leah, although both you and I know you became mine as soon as you entered my house. Why else do you think I’ve been training you this past year? All my little corrections, my dear, were in order to prepare you to be my wife.” He had reached out and touched her cheek affectionately, as if his abuse had been a sign of his esteem for her. “You are quite pretty, Leah, and I shall not be embarrassed to take you as my wife. Society will think it only proper that I care for you and my nephew and niece now that Thomas is dead. I’m sure you will strive to please me.” Her mind had flashed back to that earlier conversation with Thomas, and his casual mention of his mother striving to please his father, and being beaten down for her efforts. Horatio had pulled her to him roughly and kissed her, all open, slavering mouth and Leah had wanted to retch, too frightened of him to shove him away. It was he who finally pushed her away. He was panting with lust and Leah’s stomach heaved. “You have teased and provoked me for a year, Leah, but I have resisted. I took care of you and the children and Thomas’ debts and now I shall have my due. As soon as your mourning is over, we shall wed. Then you will truly be mine.”

  Leah had managed to convince Sir Horatio that until their marriage she should stay with her mother. Now that she was a widow and he an unmarried man it was improper for her to live with him. She had gotten unexpected support in this from the Duchess of Ashland, a dragon for the proprieties and a woman on whom Sir Horatio fawned. And so Leah had escaped with the children to her mother’s. For the last three years Sir Horatio had been browbeating her into marrying him. She adamantly refused. He had cut off all her funds and refused to satisfy Thomas’ debts, leaving them to her. He had recently coerced most of the shopkeepers in Ashton on the Green to refuse her any more credit. Leah believed the Duchess was behind that last attempt to force her hand.

  By the time Valentine and Kurt had arrived with their offer Leah was at her wit’s end. She had had no idea how to support her family, no place to run, nowhere to turn for succor. Now she had them. Whether or not they realized it, they were a dream come true.

  Chapter Five

  “Are you awake?”

  Valentine’s whisper came to Kurt in the dark, and he felt the heat of his body as Valentine rose on one arm to lean over him. He opened his eyes and saw the broad outline of Valentine’s shoulders limned in moonlight.

  “Yes, I’m awake.” He had been. It was impossible to sleep, knowing that tomorrow their entire future could change, probably would change. There was no reason why Leah should not agree to marry them.

  Valentine lay back down next to him, not touching him. “You haven’t really said anything about her,” he said quietly, the statement clearly meant as a question.
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  “Neither have you.” Kurt tried to keep his tone neutral.

  “I like her. I think I could love her.” Valentine’s tone was equally neutral.

  “Good.” Kurt tried not to let his tangled emotions show.

  Valentine sighed. “‘Good’. What does that mean?” He rolled onto his side facing Kurt. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Talk to me, Kurt, tell me how you feel.”

  Kurt’s frustration escaped when he answered. “How do I feel? How the hell am I supposed to feel, Valentine? You tell me you could love someone else. Where does that leave me?” He raised both hands and scrubbed his face impatiently. “Damn. This is not turning out at all as I had planned.”

  Valentine gave a mirthless bark of laughter. “I was just telling myself that,” he commented wryly. “Exactly how is this not like you had planned?”

  It was Kurt’s turn to sigh. “I believed that you could marry a woman without having strong feelings for her. I see now that that would be impossible for you. I didn’t realize that I would feel so jealous.”

  “Kurt,” Valentine said, and Kurt felt his hand smooth over his chest. As always, Valentine’s touch made Kurt’s heart pound and his cock began to grow hard. “You know I love you. I will always love you. Whatever feelings I have for Leah won’t change that.”

  Kurt put his hand over Valentine’s as it ran slowly up and down his chest and skimmed over his taut stomach. “I know. I’m just confused. I want you to be happy.”

  “You make me happy,” Valentine told him quietly then leaned over and kissed Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt’s breath hitched. “I want you,” Valentine whispered.

  “Yes,” was all Kurt said, and Valentine rolled on top of him. Lust surged through Kurt like a bolt of lightning as soon as he felt the hot slide of Valentine’s skin against his own from chest to foot. Valentine wedged himself between Kurt’s thighs, spreading his legs almost as if he were a woman, and then with a subtle undulation he brought their two hard cocks together. Kurt’s breath hissed out as he thrust up with his hips.

  “This is where you are, Kurt,” Valentine told him, his lips barely touching Kurt’s as he spoke. He levered himself up on his hands, forcing their cocks even closer together, and Kurt moaned. “Here, in my bed, in my arms.” Valentine began to rock his hips into Kurt, creating a heated pressure and friction of cock on cock. “You’re mine and always will be.”

  “Yes, Valentine, yes.” Kurt couldn’t remember wanting Valentine this much ever before, as if he would die if Valentine didn’t fuck him soon. “Kiss me, Valentine,” he pleaded, and reached up a hand to clutch the back of Valentine’s head and pull him down.

  Valentine chuckled darkly. “You want me desperately, don’t you, Kurt?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead he swooped down and captured Kurt’s mouth. The kiss was instantly hot and demanding. Valentine invaded his mouth, tasting, licking and biting. It was a kiss meant to inflame, and it did. Valentine moaned into his mouth, and Kurt knew he was as much a victim of the kiss as Kurt.

  Valentine broke away from the kiss with a groan. “Christ, I think I can’t want you more, and yet each time I do. I can’t imagine this changing between us, Kurt. Bloody hell, I want to fuck you.” Valentine ran his lips down Kurt’s jaw and neck and then bit the strong tendon of his shoulder gently. Kurt groaned.

  “Yes, baby, I love to hear you. Tell me what you want, Kurt.” Valentine scooted down and his teeth grazed Kurt’s hard nipple before his tongue began to lash it. Kurt moaned loudly, knowing how much Valentine loved to hear him during their lovemaking. The more he could make Kurt moan and groan, the more he liked it. Valentine was a very vocal lover as well. Almost every one of Kurt’s moans Valentine answered with one of his own.

  “I want to fuck,” Kurt gasped as Valentine began to suck his nipple vigorously. “I want your cock in me tonight, Valentine. I want you to own me, to control me, to fuck me hard and fast.”

  Valentine moaned and gave Kurt a series of light bites across his chest to his other nipple and began to suck that one as deeply as he had the other.

  “Meine Gott,” Kurt moaned, clutching Valentine’s head to him. “Yes, suck harder, darling, suck me everywhere.”

  “Christ,” Valentine muttered after he pulled away, “yes,” and he moved lower, sucking and nibbling Kurt’s stomach. He licked the length of Kurt’s cock, and Kurt cried out wordlessly. When Valentine took the hard, throbbing erection into his mouth, all Kurt could do was sob his name over and over. Valentine worked his mouth down to the root of Kurt’s cock, not easy since he was large and wide, but Valentine had years of practice.

  He savored the salty taste of Kurt’s precum in his throat then he sucked deeply on Kurt’s cock, and slowly pulled his mouth down and off. Kurt moaned incoherently, his head thrashing on the pillow. Valentine moved his mouth down and gently licked the soft expanse of skin between Kurt’s cock and his sac, then bit it ever so softly, causing Kurt to shiver and moan yet again. God he loved that sound. It made his own cock throb and he felt it leaking. He licked again, this time lower, over Kurt’s balls and then across and into the sweet, tight hole he wanted so badly. Kurt thrashed and begged, “Please, Valentine, please.”

  “I can’t wait anymore, Kurt,” Valentine growled. “I’m so hard to fuck you I ache.”

  He needed Kurt in a way he never had before. He needed to show him how much he loved him and wanted him. Usually it was Kurt making love to Valentine with his mouth and his hands, but tonight he had to make Kurt understand how important he was to Valentine, that there would always be a place in his life and heart for Kurt. Loving him was like breathing to Valentine. It was essential, it gave his life meaning. This is what he wanted to share with Leah too, and he knew he could, that they could.

  “The next time I do this, Kurt,” he told him as he climbed back up his body like a predatory cat, his voice rough, “Leah will be here. She’ll be watching us.” Kurt’s back bowed as his hips thrust up and Kurt gave a guttural moan. “Mmm,” Valentine purred, “you like the sound of that, don’t you?”

  Kurt was breathing heavily, his eyes shut tight when Valentine crouched above him face-to-face. “Open your eyes and see me,” Valentine whispered, “really see me.”

  Kurt’s eyelashes fluttered, and his gaze was unfocused when he first opened his eyes. Then he looked into Valentine’s eyes for a long minute.

  “I see you,” he said quietly. “You are the same, the same man who has shared my bed for years.”

  “Exactly,” Valentine whispered again. “The same man who loves you. You will lose nothing, Kurt, by letting Leah in. You will only gain. You will win another lover, another person who will need you and love you as I do.”

  “Ah, liebchen,” Kurt sighed. “I am afraid. I am afraid of changing everything. I am afraid to love her because I think I could.”

  Valentine smiled and then lowered his head and kissed Kurt softly. “I’m counting on it,” he told him. “Now roll over so I can fuck you.”

  Kurt rolled over eagerly. He loved being fucked as much as he loved to fuck. He loved everything about his physical relationship with Valentine. He couldn’t help wondering if he would love to fuck Leah as much.

  “On your knees, Kurt,” Valentine ordered roughly, grabbing Kurt’s hips and pulling him up. Kurt came easily to hands and knees and spread his legs to make room for Valentine between them. Suddenly he felt Valentine’s mouth on his ass, licking at the tight bud there, first the broad flat of his tongue and then the tip teasingly dipping in. He gasped. Oh God, this was one of his favorite things, his favorite way for Valentine to prepare him to be fucked.

  “Valentine,” he moaned, pushing his ass back in Valentine’s face. He was rewarded by a swift, hot stab of tongue delving into him. Kurt bit his lip as the pleasure coursed through him. With the next invasion of Valentine’s tongue Kurt threw back his head and groaned loudly and deeply. Valentine’s chuckle sent a wave of sensation into the sensitized ring of muscles he was working with his mouth, and
Kurt suddenly couldn’t stop shivering. He was aching with want as he was stretched to take Valentine’s cock.

  “I need you, Valentine,” he groaned, “I need your cock so badly. Fuck me now, please.”

  Valentine couldn’t help but smile as he heard Kurt’s plea, and he knew it was a wicked smile. He loved nothing better than to reduce Kurt to begging. His cock was so hard it was resting high and long against his stomach. He could feel precum leaking from it. He couldn’t resist one last thrust of his tongue deep into Kurt’s channel, swirling it roughly. Kurt loved this so much Valentine had once made him come from nothing but a tongue fuck. He pulled his tongue out slowly, and Kurt groaned. He gave one or two small bites to the puckered skin there, then rose on his knees behind Kurt, his hands on Kurt’s ass, spreading him wide.

  Valentine looked down and very carefully pressed the tip of his leaking cock against Kurt’s back entrance, spreading the precum from his cock around the lip of the hole. “Tell me what you want, Kurt.”

  “I want you,” Kurt pleaded, “I want your cock in my ass.” Without preamble Valentine thrust his thumb into Kurt. “God, Valentine! Now, fuck me now,” Kurt cried.

  Feeling that Kurt was ready, Valentine pulled his thumb out, making Kurt moan. “Mmmm,” Valentine purred as he pressed just the tip into Kurt’s ass. “It’s so good, Kurt. You’re so hot and tight tonight, and you want me so badly. I want to fuck you slow and deep so it lasts.” His words were accompanied by his slow press deeper and deeper into Kurt, who bloomed beneath him, his ass welcoming Valentine like the familiar lover he was.