Victors vow lords of haw.., p.1
Victor's Vow [Lords of Hawksfell Manor 6] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour), page 1
Lords of Hawksfell Manor 6
Victor Hawk vows to never succumb to his desires and is ashamed when he does. He wants his third cousin Violet but knows he doesn’t deserve happiness. Violet Ralston cared for Victor’s dying mother, but now she’s dead and Violet has nowhere to go. She craves Victor’s touch but fears she’ll always be alone.
Cabot Reilly, valet at Hawksfell Manor, is an accomplished lover. He longs for a connection, and flirting with every maid leaves him empty.
When Victor’s invited to Hawksfell Manor he takes Violet. She’s upset, and Cabot suspects it’s about Victor. They kiss, and she’s amazed she wants him as much as Victor. Cabot goes to Victor’s room and finds him hard and aching. They make love, and Victor is stunned when shame doesn’t follow release. He wants to risk pleasure with Violet, too. Will he keep his old vow? Or make a new one for love?
Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 26,777 words
Lords of Hawksfell Manor 6
Siren Publishing, Inc.
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
Copyright © 2013 by Josie Dennis
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-336-8
First E-book Publication: August 2013
Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Siren Publishing, Inc.
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Table of Contents
About the Author
Lords of Hawksfell Manor 6
Copyright © 2013
Yorkshire, England 1912
Victor Hawk, Baron Ralston, stared up at the canopy over his very large, very lonely bed. His cock was hard, like it was nearly every night of his life since reaching manhood.
“Not tonight, damn it,” he groaned into the dark.
He wouldn’t seek release. No, this was his penance for being born a Hawk. He was twenty-seven years old and this had been his lot for nearly half that time.
He rolled onto his side, wincing as the fine sheets brushed over him. His heart thudded in beat to his throbbing shaft, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Images from tonight’s dinner crashed through his mind as he relived the torture of sitting across from Violet as she delicately picked at her meal. Her blonde hair had caught the lights and her flawless skin had flushed rosy from the fire burning in the hearth. She was an innocent. He knew that. She was his late mother’s niece of sorts, and his third cousin. It was to her credit that she’d come to help care for his mother over the past year. She’d proven invaluable, and he was squarely in her debt. He wouldn’t repay that debt by rutting on her like a damned Hawk.
They hadn’t spoken much during dinner, which was not unusual for them, and he’d escaped her company right after. The house was like a tomb, and had been for the three months since his mother died. And for nearly a year prior as well, if he were being completely honest. He dated that condition from when his mother fell ill and Violet moved in to help with her care.
Ah, Violet. She was a complication he didn’t need. It was difficult enough, denying his cursed Hawk lusts all day and all night. With merely a whiff of her floral scent, as light as the flower she was named for, he went from semi-hard to aching for release in an instant. Now that they lived beneath the same roof essentially alone, there was truly nothing to stop him from indulging every fantasy he’d ever had about her. Of lifting the skirts of her somber gowns to reveal what he suspected was a gorgeous pussy and tasting her. Of holding on to her round little bottom and fucking her hard from behind. God, she was sweet and fresh and everything he didn’t deserve.
He wrapped his hands around his shaft, knowing he couldn’t find release that way. He’d tried several times, only to earn debilitating pain in his belly and an excruciating erection that lasted for hours. Dragging his thumb over the tip, he hissed as he felt a drop of cream. He had to come. He’d never sleep if he didn’t find relief.
Easing himself out of bed, he went to the pull and rang for one of the maids. He didn’t care which one. He needed to come and he needed to come now. Donning his dressing gown, he sat beside the crackling hearth and tried to relax even as his body was humming. When a soft knock came at the door, he nearly growled in anticipation.
“Come,” he called.
The door was opened and a maid entered. The girl was one he’d never seen before. That was good, for he couldn’t bring himself to use someone more than once. He saw that they were amply rewarded and treated well, but he let his man-of-affairs handle the particulars.
His estate was successful, due to his Hawk heritage. Hawks were blessed with handling money. That was true. That blessing wasn’t much consolation given his raging lust and his weakness to resist it. Tonight’s surrender was a prime example.
“Do you need me, my lord?” the maid asked.
He spread his robe and let his cock free. She came to stand in front of him. He closed his eyes and swallowed down his cold shame as she dropped to her knees on the fine carpet.
Afterward, when the girl left, he climbed back into his bed. He’d come deep down her throat, his orgasm almost painful as he’d bucked and groaned his release. In that scalding hot moment of release he’d pictured Violet before him, her rosebud lips wrapped around his cock as she stroked him up and down until he exploded.
Shutting his eyes, he tried to set it all from his mind. Sadness that his mother was gone. Guilt that he hadn’t been able to fight his Hawk lusts yet again.
And shame that he wanted to take his innocent cousin.
* * * *
Violet Ralston sat in the breakfast room, ready for another long and lonely day. Victor wasn’t about, and she guessed he’d ridden out on the estate early despite the bitter December day’s chill.
He had been his usual dour self at dinner last night, but only when his dark Hawk eyes hadn’t run over her. He’d obviously thought she hadn’t been aware of his close regard throughout their meal, but how could she not be? From the moment she’d come to Ralston House last year he’d been the only one in her thoughts. The spicy, hot scent of him. The scalding heat of his big body. The dark rumors of his sensual Hawk curse. It all still sent her virginal body into spasms of heated fantasies she doubted she would ever see fulfilled.
She knew he made use of their servants. His mother, her dear Aunt Jane, had divulged as much during a particularly dark day last spring. The woman blamed herself for Victor’s condition, saying that if she hadn’t succumbed to a Hawk she wouldn’t have indulged and bore a child. True, Victor’s father had returned once he was born to legitimatize him but he’d never spent any time with her aunt or Victor that Violet knew of.
Victor certainly never spoke of his father, or any other Hawk relatives for that matter. Her aunt never said much about Victor’s father or about the Hawks in general, other than their high lusts and shameful desires. As for Violet, more than once she longed to ask one of the maids just what Victor did to satisfy his particular beast.
Did he take them hard, his big body driving into their softness to find release? Did they put their hands on his…cock until he reached his pinnacle? Oh, if only she knew something about passion she could envision matters more clearly. For a woman of twenty-three years, she was woefully ignorant.
“Miss Ralston?” the butler said from the doorway.
She faced the elderly gentleman. “Yes, Wilson?”
“A letter has arrived for Lord Ralston.”
Violet blinked. “And?”
“He is out, miss.”
“I reasoned that, Wilson. Why don’t you leave it in the salver?”
The butler shook his head. “I think not, miss. This is from the Earl of Hawksfell.”
Violet’s mouth dropped open. Even she had heard of the earl, the head of the Hawk family here in Yorkshire. He was purported to be the most virile and demanding of all the Hawks but to her knowledge Victor had never made his acquaintance.
“Why would the earl write to Vic…to Lord Ralston?” she asked.
The butler’s cheeks reddened. “It isn’t my place to answer.”
She held out her hand. “I’ll give it to the baron, Wilson.”
Wilson looked as though a heavy weight had been lifted as he handed over the letter. She placed it beside her plate on the table, eyeing it as she finished drinking her tea. Well, at least she would have an excuse to speak to Victor today. She admitted to herself that it was a comfort to know he would have to pay attention to her, if only on this matter.
It was a pity he would never pay her the particular attention she craved.
* * * *
When Victor came in from his ride she was ready for him. She’d been waiting in the parlor for the past half hour for him to make an appearance. The fire crackled behind the grate, warm and merry, but her hands felt cold. The letter from Lord Hawksfell sat on the table beside her chair, and her head ached from trying to figure out just what possibility it could present. She’d finally just put that darn thing on the table to await Victor’s compelling eyes.
He stalked into the parlor through the glass doors at the back of the house, and her breath caught. The wind had made his cheeks ruddy and he exuded masculine strength. His thick dark hair was dusted with a few snowflakes which sparkled as they rapidly melted. Her pulse leapt and she stifled a sigh.
“Hello, Victor,” she managed to say.
He froze, his dark eyes snapping toward her. “Violet?” He pulled off his gloves with deliberate tugs. “What are you doing here?”
“Here at Ralston House?”
He waved a hand. “No. Here in the parlor.”
“Did you think to avoid me?” She’d tried for a light, teasing tone but flirtation was never her forte. “That is, where did you think I would be?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and took off his long coat, placing it over the back of the chair across from her. “The library?”
It was a valid answer. She spent quite a bit of time lost in those books now that she no longer had to care for her aunt.
“Nevertheless, here I sit.” She picked up the letter from the earl. “This came for you.”
He blinked and took a step toward her. Oh, she could smell him now. She held the letter out to him.
“Why do you have it?” he asked, taking the letter and turning it over.
“Wilson didn’t want to leave it in the salver,” she answered with a shrug.
“The Earl of Hawksfell,” he read aloud. He studied the letter and she could tell he was intrigued. His nostrils flared and his fingers traced over the seal. “What could he possibly want?”
“There is one way to find out,” she said.
He lifted his head, pinning her with those eyes. Then he flashed her a curve of his lips that might be considered a smile. “Right.”
He broke the seal and unfolded the paper within. As she watched, a flicker of emotion crossed his rugged features, accompanied by a narrowing of his eyes as he read the earl’s words. His sculpted lips parted for a moment, then pressed into a thin line. “Preposterous.”
She was fairly trembling with curiosity as she considered just what the earl had to say. “What is it, Victor?”
“He wants me to come to Hawksfell Manor.” He dropped the hand holding the letter to his side. “To meet the other Hawk relatives.”
It was her turn to let her mouth gape open. “The other Hawks?”
“Yes, the earl and his brother. As well as a few cousins.”
She heard something in his voice, a wistfulness she’d never heard before. “Never say you’re going.”
His brows drew together. “I don’t suppose I should feel compelled, but…”
Realization struck her then. He wanted to meet the other Hawks, despite the lack of any indication he’d ever given in the past. Rising out of her chair, she reached out to touch his arm. “You should go.”
He looked down at her hand, then into her eyes. The floor tilted beneath her and she forced herself to remain still.
“You deserve to have someone else in your life,” she said softly.
“Other than you, you mean?” he asked, his voice rough.
Her throat tightened. “Victor…”
He dropped the letter and grabbed her upper arms. “Violet, are you tired of me?”
She blinked rapidly. Her emotions were a riot inside of her. “What? I don’t understand.”
He brought his face close to hers. “You c
Swallowing thickly, she tried to think of a reasonable answer. There was really only one, however. “You know as well as I that I have nowhere else to go.”
He nodded and brought his mouth to hers, his lips brushing over her flesh. She could scarcely breathe. He kissed her, at first quite softly then with a hard press of his mouth before he set her from him.
“Victor?” she managed to ask.
“Nowhere else to go,” he repeated, reaching down to pick up the discarded letter. His eyes were intent on her before he turned away. “That is a pity.”
With long strides, he left the parlor. Sinking back into the chair, she touched her fingertips to her mouth. His taste was like his scent, spicy and hot. She closed her eyes and reveled in the memory of that too-brief kiss.
It was a lamentable truth she couldn’t ignore. That would most likely be the only kiss she ever got from him.
“You look quite pretty standing there, Cabot.”
Cabot Reilly looked over at the new lady’s maid poised against the wall opposite. With auburn hair and deep brown eyes, Ivy was a pretty thing, though she had nothing on her predecessor. No, Lily was a remarkable beauty.
“Lady Hawksfell isn’t in need of your services, Ivy?” he asked, giving her a smile.
Her eyes widened, then her lips tilted in a grin. “Not at present.”
He was adept at flirting. He knew that. More than one girl had fallen into his bed in the past two years since he’d come to Hawksfell Manor. Yet his charm hadn’t gained him anything but frustration with the last maid he’d fancied. No, Lily was now wed to yet another Hawk man.
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