Authors: Nina Lane
“I don’t…”
“Stop it. Now turn over.”
Lydia’s jaw tightened as she glared at him. “What for?”
“Don’t argue with me. Turn over.”
With an irritated huff, Lydia flipped over onto her stomach, burying her face in the feathery pillow.
Gabriel reached out and slid the sheet over her rounded hips, baring her inflamed buttocks to the night air and his gaze. He touched one of her fleshy cushions again, making her body jerk in reaction. A muffled groan emerged from the pillow when his fingers pressed against the other cheek.
“Hurts, does it?” he asked.
“You know damn well it hurts,” Lydia hissed. “That man has a hand of iron.”
“Mmm. You should be grateful he only used his hand.”
Gabriel edged his fingertips between the lush curves of her bottom cheeks, pulling them apart to expose the dark furrow between them and the taut ring of her anus.
Lydia let out a gasp of surprise when Gabriel’s forefinger began to encircle the forbidden orifice. He commanded her to remain silent as he knelt on the bed beside her prone body. His penis pulsed with an insistent rhythm inside his trousers as thoughts of sinking into her creamy wetness flooded his mind.
His hand slipped lower, seeking the smooth dampness of her sex, the silken folds of her labia and the bud of her clitoris. He pressed on Lydia’s lower back with his other hand, pushing her into the mattress so the globes of her buttocks jutted upward.
He soon realized the difficulty of exploring her charming secrets with only one hand and remedied the situation by straddling her lower back. His hard bulge brushed against the slope of her bottom crevice, causing her to twist underneath him.
“Gabriel…”
“Hush, Lydia.” Seated as he was facing the delectable sight of Lydia’s upthrust bottom, Gabriel spread her cheeks apart again and began to study her more thoroughly.
Moisture seeped from her hidden lips, filling his head with the musky scent of her arousal. The delicate puckered rosebud just above her glistening sex contracted in defense when he attempted to invade it with his finger.
“Lydia,” Gabriel reprimanded softly.
An ache began to build at the base of his penis, and he removed his fingers temporarily to divest himself of the confines of clothing. When he returned to his position straddling Lydia’s lower back, his naked phallus twitched lewdly above the woman’s flushed buttocks.
Suppressing the intense urge to plunge his prick into the depths of her warmth, Gabriel rubbed his forefinger over Lydia’s pleats, then dipped it into her throbbing passage. After his finger was coated with her fluids, he began to push it gently past the closed portal of her anal opening.
A vague protest emerged from Lydia’s throat, but she didn’t struggle to escape his ministrations as he began to slide his finger back and forth. The tight channel gripped his finger intensely, making his penis trickle masculine juices as he imagined what it would feel like to embed the stiff member in such delightful heat.
Still, he was unwilling to take Lydia in such a manner. His conscience denied him the satisfaction, a hidden force that would not allow him to tear through such a small opening in the quest for his own pleasure.
He knew he was well-endowed, his projecting phallus having been the object of much admiration over the years, and Gabriel had always been averse to using his tool as an object of discomfort and pain. He slid his other hand down to the open flower of Lydia’s sex, ordering her in soft tones to spread her legs farther apart.
To his gratification, she did, her bottom cheeks tensing as she fought the sensations sweeping over her body. Gabriel wasted no time in his manipulation of her clitoris, his long fingers gently pulling up the protective hood.
Lydia’s body trembled between his knees and against his buttocks, her skin dampening with arousal and the inescapable liquid of Gabriel’s emission as it dripped onto the rose-kissed mounds of her prominent buttocks. He flicked his thumb lightly over her swollen nub, earning a gasp of excitement from its owner.
The idea of making Lydia writhe underneath him after she had been so hostile about his appearance suddenly stimulated Gabriel. He adjusted his position on her, sliding backward so that his rampant penis trailed along the length of her spine before he settled his head between her legs. He was acutely conscious that he was lying over her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, but it didn’t stop Lydia from moaning and twisting when he began to lap at her with his tongue.
Her honeyed juices flowed copiously, coating his tongue with the unique flavor of Lydia and the heady scent that caused blood to pool in his groin. He placed his hands on the fleshy orbs of her bottom, pushing them apart and opening her to the questing search of his lips and tongue.
Little moans and mewling noises, muffled by the depths of the feather pillow, emerged from Lydia’s lips as her body began to wriggle with reluctant delight under Gabriel’s sensual offering. He darted his tongue into the channel of her sex, causing her to cry out with pleasure and attempt to thrust her hips back and impale herself on his tongue.
Smiling to himself, Gabriel then closed his lips around the nub of her clitoris and sucked lightly, as if drawing every ounce of Lydia’s sexual rapture toward the little organ. Her body shook with violent shudders when her climax crashed over her, painting Gabriel’s lips with the evidence of her sensuality.
After he had licked the last shivers from Lydia’s convulsing body, Gabriel pulled himself up and straddled her back again as he grasped his bursting shaft. He stroked the thick length up and down, his grip tightening as his movements grew more rapid and his testicles tightened.
Lydia lifted her head, twisting around to try and see what he was doing, but he clamped his knees around her waist to prevent her from moving. Within seconds, his penis spewed jets of seed onto the reddish globes of Lydia’s bottom, the hot liquid flowing down into the cleft between them.
They were both silent, the only sound the rasp of their breathing as Gabriel climbed off Lydia and retrieved his trousers. Without another word, he tugged them on and walked out the door, leaving Lydia in the quivering aftermath of orgasm with the evidence of Gabriel’s fervor varnishing her full bottom.
Lydia walked down the stairs, her hand sliding along the polished banister. She was wearing another of the thin, cotton dresses Gabriel had given her and a pair of strapped sandals. Her breasts swayed lightly with her movements, her bare sex unencumbered between her thighs.
Her bottom was still rather sore from the events of the previous day, but lingering pleasure continued to course through her body. She was unable to prevent the pleasure, which in turn added to her rapid expansion of shame. Shame was proving to be an innate aspect of the atmosphere at
La Nouvelle Vie
, and subsequently, of Lydia herself.
She went into the solarium, her stomach rumbling at the scents of rich coffee and fresh croissants. The men were already seated, and three pairs of eyes looked up as she entered.
Lydia muttered a “good morning,” feeling her skin heat at the memory of what had followed the last time they were all in the same room. She took her usual place next to Gabriel, her careful movements earning a grin from Preston.
Lydia couldn’t bring herself to look at Gabriel. Did Kruin and Preston know what he had done last night? Was that part of their plan, to leave her in such a state as a method of proving their power?
No
, she reasoned. They had done that well enough in the drawing room. Gabriel’s actions had been solely his own.
The thought caused a rustle of discomfort to stir in Lydia’s soul, for she hadn’t thought of Gabriel as the commanding type. But he had commanded ecstasy from her with the manipulation of a master. And then left her lying there, his seed dripping from her buttocks, to absorb the inevitable sense of embarrassment that she had come apart for him just as he had wanted her to.
Lydia’s hands trembled as she spread her cloth napkin on her lap. As if nothing had happened between them, Gabriel poured her coffee from a silver carafe and solicitously inquired about how she had slept the previous night.
“Fine, thank you.” Lydia tore her gaze from Preston, hating the smug grin on his face as he popped a juicy strawberry into his mouth and began chewing contentedly. As for Kruin, he merely sat there eating in his usual precise way as if nothing untoward had happened.
Lydia broke open a warm croissant, the scrumptious scent invading the air around her like a breath of heaven. The flaky pastry filled her mouth with the light taste of butter, causing her stomach to growl again in a plea for more.
Gabriel heard the rumble and flashed Lydia a teasing grin.
“Worked up an appetite, did you?” he asked.
“No more than you,” Lydia murmured, reaching for her coffee.
“Well, Lydia, you provided us with a great deal of pleasure yesterday, for which we all thank you,” Preston said heartily. “I must say, you were far more accommodating than we had anticipated you would be. I do hope that we can look forward to such compliance in the future.”
The angry glower Lydia gave him said more than any words could.
“Perhaps next time Preston will be the one to deliver an appropriate punishment,” Kruin said.
Preston chuckled. “All in good time, my friend. Lydia will definitely not escape my punishments.”
Lydia’s heart sank at the thought of being at Preston’s complete mercy, particularly in the presence of Gabriel and Kruin. She tried to quell the apprehensive feeling in the pit of her stomach as she imagined what he might do to her.
“And how is your lovely bottom this morning?” Preston asked conversationally.
Lydia’s face burned. “Sore,” she muttered.
“You will grow used to it,” Kruin said.
Preston settled back in his chair, his eyes on Lydia as a wicked gleam appeared in his blue eyes. “The morning paper failed to arrive today, Lydia. As a result, we are all eager for new information. So, darling, why don’t you tell us about something…oh, I don’t know…something intimate, perhaps?”
Lydia looked at Preston. Unease crept into her blood. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Preston picked up a slice of bacon and crunched into it with sharp, white teeth. “I don’t think Gabriel and Kruin know you well enough. Why don’t you tell them about one of your sexual fantasies? No, wait. Better yet, why don’t you tell them about your first sexual experience? Your first serious one, that is.”
He looked perfectly delighted with himself. Lydia’s chest tightened.
“Lydia?” Preston prompted, earning himself a glare.
“I’m not talking about my sex life,” she snapped.
“Lydia, don’t you dare raise your voice when you are given an order,” Kruin said, his expression as hard as his tone.
Lydia started slightly at the big man’s sudden command. Flustered, she looked down at her plate, the silken strands of her hair falling forward to partially obscure her profile. She picked up a slice of melon and bit into it as a weighty silence began to invade the room.
“How old were you, Lydia?” Preston asked, his oddly casual question breaking through the stillness. “Fifteen? Sixteen?”
Lydia concentrated on spreading jam onto her croissant. “Seventeen,” she said tightly. “I was seventeen.”
“And how old was your…ah, partner?”
Lydia flipped her hair back, her gaze fixing on Preston with the precision of a radar. “She was nineteen.”
Gabriel and Kruin stared at her. Preston laughed at their reaction, clearly pleased at having surprised them. Kruin wrapped his large hand around his coffee cup and took a swallow.
“A young woman,” he stated.
Lydia looked at him and nodded. “Yes. She was my best friend.”
“Go on, Lydia,” Preston said, appearing to be thoroughly enjoying himself. “Tell us about it.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Lydia replied coldly. “Cassie and I fooled around a little, that’s all.”
Preston shook his head. “Oh no, you don’t. I said your
first serious sexual experience.
You brought up Cassie, didn’t you? So tell us about this experience.”
Lydia felt Gabriel’s eyes on her as if they were burning into her soul. She couldn’t look at him, silently willing him to put a stop to this even as she knew he wouldn’t.
She nibbled furtively at a piece of croissant and sipped the dark roasted coffee as she tried to think of a way out of Preston’s command. Unable to come up with a method, she allowed her thoughts to drift back to the sultry night of forbidden pleasure in which she and her girlfriend had indulged themselves.
“What did you do, Lydia?” Kruin asked, his voice slightly husky as his black eyes watched her. “You’ve been told to tell us.”
Lydia felt as if she had already betrayed Cassie by mentioning her name in the presence of these three men.
She had been so lovely, Cassie, with a mass of rich, auburn curls and a slim, athletic figure that would have been boyish had it not been for her full breasts. Even now, a little shiver rippled through Lydia’s body at the thought of her first and only female lover.
She had often thought that her comfort with her own sexuality—at least, prior to her arrival in this depraved environment—had arisen from the fact that her first intense experience had been so lovely. She had experimented with boys previously, and she could even recall an incident or two involving Preston. In a technical sense, she lost her virginity at age eighteen, but she had never stopped thinking of Cassie as her first true lover.