Authors: Nina Lane
“Do they like…I mean, do they want you to…to do the same kind of things that…” Lydia’s voice trailed off as color rose to paint her skin.
Gabriel looked at her for a minute, stroking her hair away from her forehead.
“To do the same kind of things we do to you?” he asked.
Lydia nodded.
“Yes. I imagine that’s one of the reasons they come here.”
“But do they…do they actually like it?”
“From all evidence, yes, they do.” He continued looking at her, his green eyes oddly intent. “The question is, do you?”
Lydia broke her gaze away from him and pressed her forehead against his chest. She had no idea how to respond to his question.
“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I get physical pleasure, of course, but I don’t like the pain or humiliation.”
“Are you certain of that?”
Lydia lifted her head in surprise. “Why wouldn’t I be certain?”
“Think about it. How aroused were you when Preston whipped you?”
“Very, but that was because of what I’d told him.”
“About losing your virginity?”
Lydia nodded. “The memory aroused me. Not the whipping. Like Kruin and the belt. That was just painful.”
“It didn’t excite you to know how much we all wanted you then? How luscious you looked spread out like that, lashed all pink and white like a peppermint?”
Lydia shivered. She hadn’t yet thought she might have some degree of power in the twisted relationships she had with the three men.
“It may be exciting to a degree,” she allowed. “But when you don’t have a choice in the matter, it—”
“What did you just say?”
His words were so abrupt that Lydia realized immediately she’d said the wrong thing.
“I didn’t mean I don’t have a choice,” she amended hastily. “Of course I do. I choose to be here. I just meant that sometimes I don’t feel as if I have any control.”
Gabriel stood, dusting needles of hay from his trousers. “You always have control, Lydia. If you remembered that, you might realize the true depths of your pleasure.”
He started to walk away. Lydia spoke before he could leave.
“Gabriel.”
He turned to look at her. His green eyes seared through the hot, dim light.
“Jane,” Lydia said.
“What?”
“Jane. My name is Jane.”
His mouth curved into a slight smile. “I’ll see you at dinner, Lydia.”
He left the stable, pulling the door closed behind him. Lydia watched him go, letting his words filter through her mind as she stretched out in the hay and drifted into a shallow sleep.
CHAPTER TEN
Preston swallowed the last of his wine and looked across the table at Lydia. She had a natural grace about her, which was fused with her voraciously carnal nature. Although Preston suspected Lydia was unaware of it, her innate eroticism colored her every movement.
He had seen her stretch like a cat in a pool of dense sunlight, run her fingers through her hair as a breeze ruffled the dark strands, slide her bare legs over the grass to feel the velvety texture caress her calves and the soles of her feet. Now her head was bent as she concentrated on her dessert, her silky hair falling forward to brush against her cheek.
With an elegant sweep of her fork, Lydia sliced a generous portion of rich, chocolate torte and placed it between her lips, her eyelids drifting down slightly as she tasted the pleasure of the thick, bittersweet dessert. She chewed and swallowed with a sigh of delight, her pink tongue flickering out to capture a sugary crumb from her full lower lip.
As she reached for her wineglass, she glanced up and unwittingly met Preston’s blue eyes. She jerked back slightly, as if startled that he had been watching her in an unguarded moment. Her hand trembled as she tore her gaze from his and lifted the glass to her lips.
Preston’s mouth twisted in a satisfied smile. How charming of her to blush because he had observed her sensual enjoyment of a chocolate dessert. Even her blushes gave her snowy skin an enchanting reddish hue, bringing to mind images of succulent fruit and milk.
Yes, Lydia’s deep eroticism reached into areas far beyond overt sexuality. It extended into every aspect of her being.
He loved the fact that she continued to be fearful of him, although he was increasingly annoyed by her closeness to Gabriel. The younger man seemed to have a different kind of power over their captive, one that caused her to want to pleasure him without coercion.
Although, Preston reminded himself, coercion made things ever so much more interesting. He suspected he would never grow tired of seeing his haughty Lydia burn with shame as she struggled to control her pleasure at their authoritarian hands.
Preston was extremely pleased with how their little arrangement was working out thus far. Lydia was becoming quite adept at obeying some of their orders, although not without that inner flame of defiance that continued to flash in her brown eyes. She was also proving to be rather hopeless at controlling her orgasms.
Given Lydia’s innate sensuality, Preston could understand her difficulty in suppressing her excitement, but of course that didn’t mean she wouldn’t pay for her disobedience. He rather hoped she would not learn control anytime soon, if only to provide him with a most excellent excuse for administering punishments.
After they had finished dessert, Gabriel disappeared into the library while Kruin went to his bedroom to do some computer work. Preston requested that Lydia join him in the drawing room, which she reluctantly did.
Considering he had several upcoming punishments planned for his lovely captive, Preston decided to forgo a whipping tonight in favor of making Lydia do the work instead.
He particularly enjoyed sprawling out on one of the plush chaise lounges and commanding her to strip and then sit astride him. Her skin burned with embarrassment as she slipped out of her dress and climbed atop him, positioning herself over his groin. Her elegant hands trembled as she obeyed his command to massage his penis until it was hard enough to guide into her body.
Then when his pulsing shaft was buried within her honeyed depths, Preston leaned back and ordered her to work herself on his prick. He knew she hated this part the most, for not only did she have to endure his hot gaze on her face and breasts, but her movements caused an inevitable spiraling of her own arousal.
“Do it, Lydia,” Preston said harshly when she hesitated.
Her eyes flashed with dislike, but she began to slide along the length of his shaft. The delicious friction stimulated Preston’s loins within seconds, and he reached up to massage her firm breasts, tweaking the large crests between his fingers.
“Don’t make me order you again, Lydia,” he warned, knowing what would eventually transpire. “You know what I like to see.”
Two spots of color appeared high on her cheeks. She didn’t look at him, as if too ashamed to even meet his gaze as she slowly increased the pace of her ride.
As she did so, a dark expression of arousal began to melt away the defiant look in her brown eyes. Her ruby lips parted as little panting noises emerged from her throat and a light sheen of sweat broke over her skin. Soon her body was bucking with increasing frenzy upon his, providing Preston with the extremely luscious display that never failed to heighten his stimulation to unfathomable levels.
Lydia’s moist breasts bounced delightfully each time she thrust herself down onto his stalk, the curves of her hips and belly quivering in time with her movements. As her excitement began to eclipse her prior shame and anger, she braced her hands upon his chest to strengthen the force of her pumping. Her thighs, sleek from her many horseback rides, tensed and flexed as if, indeed, she were riding a horse.
Preston watched her with an intense feeling of satisfaction and power. Lydia’s head fell back as she succumbed to the pistoning of his stalk and the inescapable flames it sparked within her. Moans began to escape her open mouth, and Preston pulled her toward him so he could close his lips around the lush, jutting tips of her breasts. Lydia shrieked with a hint of dismay, but pushed the full mounds against him as if silently begging for more.
Preston stroked his hands over the curves of her sweat-dampened torso to her plump buttocks, whose cushions he proceeded to strike with short, hard blows. Lydia yelped with surprise, but did not cease in her furious riding of his oiled shaft.
Her delectable bottom was soon burning from the force of Preston’s hands, and it wasn’t long before he felt her entire body tighten in a desperate effort to forestall her climax. He had learned to recognize the signs, and he smiled to himself as he watched Lydia’s inner struggle. Her eyes closed tightly, her fist clutching hard around a sofa pillow, her hips rocking back and forth with slower movements.
Preston landed another spank on her rump.
“Move!” he commanded in a harsh voice. “I want to see those lovely breasts bouncing.”
Lydia gave a groan of dismay, but increased the pace of her body once again until finally she seemed to go pliant with resignation. She rode him harder and faster, leaning forward to obtain the most pleasurable position for herself, and then a cry of rapture tore from her throat as her body shook with a suffusion of vibrations.
The sensation of her convulsing around his shaft was too much for Preston to bear, and within seconds, he pulled out of her and shot copious fluids over her shorn vulva.
They were both panting hard as the final pulses traveled through their blood. Then a cloud of shame descended over Lydia’s expression as she climbed off him and went to retrieve her dress, wiping away trails of semen that trickled down her thighs.
“Don’t you have something to say to me?” Preston demanded.
Lydia’s fists clenched on the cotton, but she turned to look at him.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“Sorry for what?”
“For…for taking pleasure without permission.”
“As well you should be,” Preston said with mock derision. “Honestly, Lydia, you’re just out of control, aren’t you?”
He rose to pull on his trousers, then yanked the dress from her grip and tossed it aside.
“You won’t be needing that tonight,” he informed her. “I’m thinking that tomorrow morning, I might give your gorgeous backside another ride. Won’t that be enjoyable?”
He chuckled at the alarm that appeared in her expression, then bent his head to kiss her. He forced her luscious lips apart with his, thrusting his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth to taste the minty chocolate flavor of her breath. When she gave a little moan of protest, he closed his teeth painfully onto her lower lip before pulling away.
Smiling at the furious look in Lydia’s eyes, Preston took her by the wrist and led her naked up the stairs.
Just as they reached the second staircase, the door to Gabriel’s room opened. The younger man stepped into the corridor, his eyes dark as he looked from Preston to Lydia and back again.
Preston stopped. “Good evening, Gabriel. Lydia had I just had a delightful time downstairs. She’s quite the expert at cock-riding, although I suppose that shouldn’t surprise us. Remind me to tell you about it tomorrow. Now if you’ll excuse us…”
“Wait.” The word was as hard as concrete, and it caused Preston to take an involuntary step backward.
“You’ve been monopolizing Lydia’s time,” Gabriel said shortly. “She’ll be sleeping in her own room from now on.”
Preston blinked at the tone in Gabriel’s voice, while behind him Lydia drew in a sharp breath. His grip tightened on her wrist as jealousy curdled in his gut.
“Since when do you issue decrees like that?” Preston snapped, disliking the hard look in Gabriel’s eyes. “Lydia belongs in my bed.”
“She does not. She belongs in her own. Now let her go.”
“How dare you talk to me like that?” Preston bit out, anger coating his words like fire. “You think you can just…”
His words trailed off when Gabriel took several steps toward them. For an instant, Preston feared the younger man might actually strike him, but Gabriel only reached past him to release Lydia’s wrist from his clutch. He pulled her toward him, placing his hand on her lower back to guide her into her bedroom.
“Go to sleep, Preston,” Gabriel suggested coldly. “You’re looking tired.”
He returned to his bedroom and closed the door. Fury tightened Preston’s every muscle as he stared after the younger man for a moment before stalking upstairs.
Preston placed his teacup with such repressed control onto the saucer that the china didn’t even clink. His shoulders were taut with anger, his eyes seething with blue fire as he turned to look at Gabriel.
“Don’t ever talk to me like that again in front of Lydia,” Preston hissed. “How dare you undermine my authority?”
“I undermined nothing,” Gabriel replied, his voice icy.
He crossed his arms over his chest, his stance wide as if in preparation for battle. If nothing else, he would not allow Preston to walk out of the room without acknowledging Lydia’s right to a measure of autonomy. “You were doing that already by forcing her to sleep with you.”