Satisfying Olympia

by Robin Gideon

Overview

Book one in the Regency England Series

Can a young widow, long without the pleasures of a man, find true love...with two men?

Though still only twenty-one, Olympia Whyte has been a widow for nearly two years.

Just now returning to her social activities among London's haut monde, Olympia has an unplanned sexual encounter with a man whose face she never sees...setting off a series of events that leave her breathless and trembling in the arms of two men!

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780857150868
Publisher:	Total-E-Bound Publishing
Publication date:	09/13/2010
Series:	Regency England
Pages:	256
Product dimensions:	5.25(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.58(d)

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

London

"It's good to see you socialising again," Colby Beldon, the Duke of Tasley, said quietly, his green eyes alight with pleasure. "And it's especially nice to see you smiling again. It's been a while since I've seen you enjoying life."

A faint blush coloured Olympia Whyte's cheeks. The duke and several other guests had been subtly flirting with her since the dinner party had begun ninety minutes earlier, and as flattering as it was to receive so much masculine attention from some of London's most charming men, Olympia was out of practice with the art of coquettery. Searching for a response that wouldn't seem either insincerely modest or narcissistic, she finally replied neutrally, "Thank you, Your Grace. It's kind of you to say so."

"Please, it's Colby." His gaze met hers. "We've discussed that."

"But you're a betrothed man, and I could never be familiar with another woman's fiancé." Her tone was teasing. After a moment, she added, "Your Grace" with just a touch of impishness. Laughter in the room dispersed Olympia's tension.

"It's still Colby, and there isn't a soul in The Ton who doesn't know that my engagement was arranged years ago by my mother and Francesca's father, that I had no choice in the matter, and that I will seldom, if ever, see my wife." His gaze went slowly over Olympia. "Now if you were my wife, it would take an act of supreme willpower just to leave home for the office each day." The duke was something of an oddity in the Ton in that he actually worked for his money, and didn't hide the fact that he took pleasure in his labours. His voice dipped low as he added, "Rest assured, if I had you waiting for me, I would be home every night."

The timbre of his voice touched Olympia invisibly, and in ways she hadn't anticipated. She looked at the man seated next to her and reminded herself once again that he was one of the more notorious rakes in all of London, a man whose sexual exploits were infamous among the Ton. Even more significantly, he was engaged to be married to Francesca LeMorneau, one of the Ton's most beautiful debutantes. Though Olympia was getting back into society after her period of mourning for the death of her husband, men like the notorious Duke of Tasley were undoubtedly tempting.

"My good Lord, your statements are flattering, but I know for a fact that you are far too promiscuous for a woman of my sensibility to give serious consideration." She grinned to soften her words. "However, it does my heart a world of good to be the temporary recipient of that charm."

Though Olympia was only twenty-one, cruel fates had already made her a widow. It had been fourteen months since her husband, a lieutenant in the British Navy, had been accidentally killed when a cannon discharged prematurely as he led soldiers into battle against Napoleon's troops.

Nigel Sanders, Olympia's older brother, gave Colby a smile and said, "Save your breath. My sister's on to you, my friend. She's too intelligent to have anything to do with you."

"But what about me?" chimed in Prince Leland Mallory, seated beside Nigel. He had been just one of many men casting the young widow a flirtatious eye. "Is she too intelligent for me, or do I make the grade?"

"Sorry, my friend, but I'm afraid you come up short of the mandatory requirements. My sister prefers the road less travelled, and as much of London and many other cities can testify, you definitely are not that." He turned his gaze towards Olympia, smiling proudly. "For my sister, only the best will do. She doesn't have to settle for anything less."

Uncomfortable with the intense scrutiny and the conversation's topic, heated embarrassment coloured her bosom, throat, and cheeks. "Nigel, when you talk like that you make it seem like I'm a prized brood mare up on the auction block. I am a twenty-one-year-old widow who is just getting out into society again. And as we all know, the duke is spoken for, and the prince is one of the most eligible bachelors in all of England. Eligible bachelors simply do not marry widows."

Leland, a slender, handsome man with coal black hair curled over his carefully tied cravat and strangely piercing silver-blue eyes, flashed the smile that had seduced countless men and women across England and the Continent. "Who says they don't?"

"My darling prince," Olympia answered without hesitation, setting down her fork and adopting a professorial tone, "you have been my brother's friend for many years, which means I, too, have known you for many years. It also means that I have witnessed — on more occasions that I can count or wish to remember — some of the most interesting people in all of London shamelessly throwing themselves at you. The young and the not-so-young, married and unmarried, have been less than demure in their desire for your ..." She paused, searching for an acceptable word, 'companionship'. She gave the word a distinctly libidinous inflection. "Since I am privy to the well-substantiated rumour that you never say 'no' to admirers, and since you are still a bachelor, the evidence suggests that you are not, as the saying goes, on the marriage market."

"The lady's logic is flawless!" Nigel exclaimed, clapping his friend playfully on the back.

Col. John Newton, the only military man at the dinner party, tapped his wine glass with a spoon to draw attention, then smiled warmly at Olympia. He had been her husband's commanding officer. "They're all wrong about you," he said in the quiet, authoritative way of his profession. "The only man worthy of you is I. When your dear husband was killed, I was the one who you knew you could count on for support. And when your period of bereavement has passed, logic and reason dictate that there is only one man who should stand at your side, and I am that man."

"No doubt you are accustomed to giving orders," Prince Leland said to the colonel. "But you seem to have forgotten that we're not under your command."

Olympia, sensing the long-standing tension between the colonel and Leland, said quickly, "Though I think we all can admit that these dinner parties do sometimes resemble a battlefield."

When she received laughter, Olympia felt much more at ease. She had married at eighteen, wedding a young career military man without trepidation. But almost immediately he was assigned to be second-in-command of a division, and the one thing that Olympia hadn't counted on when becoming a wife was spending so much time without her husband. When her husband was killed almost two years to the day after their wedding, Olympia could count on one hand the number of months they had spent together.

Olympia's gaze turned towards Lady Darcia Firth Caldwell. Though there was a significant age difference between them — the duchess was thirty-six — the two women had been together at several society functions recently, and they were forming a close friendship. One thing the two women had in common was their misfortunes. Darcia's elderly husband had recently been thrown from his horse and killed. Olympia wanted to show her emotional support for the duchess, but privately when the two of them would not be overheard.

Olympia watched as Darcia suddenly rose from her chair, then walked from the lavishly appointed dining room with a purposeful stride.

Always a woman to consider the feelings of others carefully, Olympia wondered for a moment whether or not Darcia would appreciate a show of emotional solidarity, or if she'd find it unsettling. She sat for several seconds, unsure of the proper action to take.

"If you'll excuse me for just a moment," Olympia said at last, sliding her chair back. Before she had moved it far enough to stand, both Colby and Leland had bolted to their feet and were politely assisting her. "Thank you," she said to them both, hoping they wouldn't inquire as to what she was doing. "I'll be back in just a moment."

With a conscious effort, Olympia did not hurry so much that she drew attention to herself. By the time she reached the dining room doors — which were opened for her by a liveried butler with no expression on his face whatsoever — and stepped into the hallway, all she saw of Lady Darcia was a flash of an emerald green velvet gown disappearing around the corner near the stairway. Though Olympia had not hurried, it appeared that the same couldn't be said for the duchess. Wherever she was going, she intended on getting there quickly.

By the time Olympia reached the top of the stairway, Darcia was nowhere to be seen.

"What's she in such a hurry for?" Olympia muttered aloud as she raised the skirts of her Grecian-style gown and petticoat, then descended the stairs quickly.

She reached the ground floor, and as she headed for the heavy, twin oak front doors, she heard the sound of a door closing behind her. Olympia was confused because it seemed that Lady Darcia — one of the wealthier titled women in London — was headed for the servant's rear entrance.

Not entirely well-versed with the structural design of the manor, especially not in areas more commonly associated with the servants than with the well-heeled guests, Olympia flailed about before finally catching sight of her new friend once again.

And once she did find her new friend, she wished she hadn't.

Olympia had gone out a rear servant's door of the estate, and as she hurried in the darkness, she looked into the side window of the carriage house. Inside, barely illuminated by just a single lamp, she found Darcia standing beside a big, black lacquered carriage. Short but extremely curvaceous and swathed in a Grecian-style gown created by the famous modiste Elizabeth Saxby, Olympia was certain it was the duchess even though she couldn't see her face. She couldn't see Darcia's face because the woman was sandwiched between two men — one very tall and muscular, and the other shorter with a more trim physique. Lady Darcia was taking turns kissing one man then the other.

"Oh ... my ... God," Olympia breathed, her heart suddenly racing, her nose nearly touching the window pane.

Olympia's throat felt constricted. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had suddenly gone so very dry. When she tried to moisten her lips with her tongue, it accomplished nothing. Her breath came in quick, shallow gulps. And though everything in Olympia's upbringing whispered — no, screamed — that she should run from the lurid scene and return to the dining room and the oh-so-civilised dinner party, she simply couldn't turn away from the window. She could hardly blink. Olympia made a silent promise to whatever gods were looking down upon her that she would never tell a soul about what she witnessed, and hoped that would exonerate her voyeurism. She would keep this moment a secret in her heart forever.

But she couldn't possibly turn away. Her feet wouldn't move, and her heart wouldn't stop racing.

Inside the carriage house, Darcia's encounter, which Olympia now suspected had been planned and was no spontaneous tryst, became even more heated. The burly man had turned her so that Darcia's back was against his chest, her face angled upward and to the side so that she could receive his open-mouthed kisses. While this was happening, the slender liveried servant was busy pushing up her skirt and petticoat as he got down on one knee.

The young man lifted Darcia's knee, sliding his shoulder in beneath her thigh. He leaned into Darcia, and though all Olympia could see was her friend's thigh encased in a white silk stocking and the top of the boy's head, her imagination filled in the details that her eyes could not.

Olympia began to shiver. She felt her clitoris start tingling. The delicate and long-neglected lips of her pussy swelled and became dewy with the nectar of her excitement. Her right hand balled into a small fist, and she unconsciously pressed her knuckles against her mouth for several seconds before biting the side of her forefinger hard enough to leave teeth marks.

She's terrible, thought the young widow, fully well aware of the fact that she really didn't think Darcia was terrible at all. Olympia realised her own jealousy and envy when she felt the evidence of it making her pussy slick and heated. I never dreamed that Lady Darcia Firth Caldwell would ever be so licentious.

Olympia watched, wide-eyed with fascination, as the big man's hands groped Darcia's generous bosom. The décolletage of Darcia's dress was fashionably low-cut, and as the coachman's fingers kneaded the pale mounds, Olympia was certain that at any moment her breasts would escape their silken confines. As he administered harsh caresses to Darcia's breasts, he feasted on her mouth, kissing her fiercely, demandingly. On one knee in front of Darcia, the younger coachman's head moved slowly as he administered cunnilingus with what appeared to be spectacular effect. Even through the closed window, Olympia could hear her friend's continuous moans of escalating passion.

Olympia was pulling up her skirt and petticoat before she ever consciously realised what she was doing. For a moment the dark fan of her eyelashes fluttered as an unprecedented voyeuristic thrill took over her senses. She was dizzy, disoriented, light-headed in a way that seemed like intoxication ... but that didn't stop her from raising the muslin skirt higher. Small, kidskin-slippered feet separated slightly, and a trembling hand slipped beneath the folds of dress and petticoat. The fingertips of Olympia's right hand brushed feather-soft against the inside of her left thigh, caressing through the sheer barrier of Chinese silk stockings. Inside the carriage house, the big man curled his fingers inside the bodice of Lady Darcia's gown and, with a forceful tug, bared the quivering mounds of her breasts. The sight of them caused a soft moan to escape from Olympia. She ran the tip of her middle finger over the cleavage of her labia. When her fingertip was moist with her own juices, Olympia caressed her clitoris.

"Oh ..." she sighed as heated passion coursed through her veins.

Nothing in Olympia's previous experience could have prepared her for what was happening to her there in the darkness beside a carriage house. Watching Lady Darcia, a woman both beautiful and sophisticated, pleasuring herself in the arms of two men, was beyond anything that Olympia could have imagined was possible. As shocking as it was to discover that Lady Darcia liked her men in pairs was the fact that watching her with her lovers was disquietingly erotic to Olympia. Even though she had only been caressing her clitoris for only a few seconds, she could already feel the tightening within herself that warned her an orgasm was fast approaching.

Lady Darcia's arms were outstretched, angling slightly downward, as she kissed the large man bending over her from behind while the smaller man continued with his oral caresses. Olympia tried to imagine what it must feel like to be in the arms of two men, to be simultaneously kissing one man while another was on his knees to administer wicked kisses of a rather more intimate nature.

The thought was all it took to trigger Olympia's climax. She thrust her middle two fingers between the slick lips of her pussy, penetrating herself as deeply as her fingers allowed. The pressure of her palm against her clitoris was firm as the contractions began. Her mouth opened, but not a sound was emitted as Olympia's insides shuddered through four powerful, climactic spasms.

Olympia's fingers were still inside her pussy when, from inside the carriage house, Lady Darcia's short, high-pitched cry of ecstasy signalled her own climax.

Lady Darcia, you're one very lucky widow. No man has ever made me climax.

Breathing deeply through her nose, her eyelashes tapping lightly against her cheeks as she descended from the heights of her self-administered pleasuring, Olympia caressed her pussy lightly, wanting to come down slowly from the summit. Releasing her gown, she cupped a breast in her left hand and squeezed gently. Tingles emanated from her lust-inflamed nipple. Though she had climaxed, she was far from being completely satisfied.

Just as Olympia was about to smooth her gown and petticoat over her legs again in preparation for her return to the dinner party, events inside the carriage house changed her plans. The slender man that had been on his knees suddenly got to his feet, and the big man behind Lady Darcia simultaneously grabbed her by the hip with one hand and used the other to push firmly on her shoulder. She was forced to bend sharply at the waist.

Without being consciously aware of it, Olympia again raised her skirt to allow her right hand to move without restrictions. Her hand resumed its slow, sensual rhythm, two fingers sliding between the lips of a pussy made slick with cream. Olympia's mouth opened slightly, and though moments earlier her breathing had begun returning to normal, she was soon taking quick, shallow gulps of air.

(Continues…)

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Excerpted from "Satisfying Olympia"
by .
Copyright © 2010 Robin Gideon.
Excerpted by permission of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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