Darker Than Love (25 page)

His wit delighted her and her appetite for the games he played was insatiable. He could be both wicked master and tender lover. But what she loved most was that his taste for subjugating her was not borne out of a corroded soul as it was with Lord Marldon. Julian knew how to play. The earl, as she’d discovered, did not.

She met Octavia’s gaze in the mirror. The older woman had promised to pleasure her in such a way that Sir Julian would soon stop believing he was indispensable. Lucy was less convinced, and now the moment had arrived she was starting to regret having been persuaded into it.

Ready words of doubt formed on her lips, but Octavia was looking at her with such yearning that she was crushed to silence. A sudden thrill coursed through her body and she shuddered, excited and fearful.

‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘Let’s not wait for him.’ It was less insulting to Octavia this way, she thought, and she did not want to appear hesitant when Julian finally arrived.

‘You’ll love it,’ whispered Octavia. ‘You’ll love it.’

She slid her hands either side of Lucy’s back, smoothing down the thin ivory fabric, dipping into her waist and swooping over the flare of her hips. Leaning forward, she ran her hands along Lucy’s thighs and nuzzled beyond her rich fall of curls to kiss her neck. Her breath was soft and warm, her touch slow and lingering. Her hands moved back, wrinkling up the chemise on Lucy’s legs, then skimmed over the slight rise of her belly to press beneath her breasts. She ran a finger below each underswell, gently pushing silk into the creases where her rounded flesh hung.

Lucy drew a tremulous breath. Her body tingled to Octavia’s easy, soothing caress. She closed her eyes, feeling hands cup the weight of her bosom, thumbs scuff across her nipples. A whimper caught in her throat and
her full orbs took all the sparkling sensation to their tips. Beneath the silk her crests hardened, erect and lustful. The pleasure was unexpected, but it was sweet and strong.

She looked at Octavia in the glass. ‘Have you always preferred women?’ she asked coyly.

Octavia gave a kind smile. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve always liked both. I’ve never understood desiring just muscles or just curves. I’m attracted to people first, bodies second.’ She kissed Lucy behind her ear. ‘It just happens that of late the nicer, more interesting people in my life have been women.’

Lucy unfastened the top two buttons of her chemise, a tentative offering of her eagerness. Octavia encouraged her with eyes that were needy yet understanding. Lucy continued to open her shift, still a little timid.

‘Why do you keep so quiet about it?’ Lucy asked.

Octavia eased the silk from Lucy’s shoulders, exposing her white, coral-peaked mounds.

‘Because it’s better that way,’ she replied, brushing back Lucy’s hair. ‘Considering the line of business I’m in. Some men are funny about it: they feel threatened or revolted. And there are others completely enchanted by the idea. Both are bloody tiresome.’

She nibbled Lucy’s earlobe and massaged her bared flesh. Arousal trickled through Lucy, and she moaned faintly.

‘You have beautiful breasts,’ murmured Octavia. ‘Come, stand up.’

Slowly, Lucy stood. She faced her friend, looking steadily into her hazel eyes, aware of each breath she took. With deft, soft fingers, Octavia slipped the half-open chemise down Lucy’s body. The silk whispered to the ground.

‘Ah, how luscious and white,’ purred Octavia.

Her gaze roved over Lucy’s nakedness as she unfastened the gold ribbons of her own wrapper and let the chiffon fall from her shoulders. Octavia’s pale skin
was smooth and lustrous, her body superbly firm and buxom. The peaks of her ample bosom were tight points, surrounded by great rosy circles. She stepped to Lucy, and drew her close. Their breasts squashed together, soft and yielding, and their nipples chafed.

Octavia touched her lips to Lucy’s, and fluttered a brief kiss. Drops of lust spilt into Lucy’s groin and stayed there, quivering. She had thought about their bodies together, but for some reason she had not thought about kisses. Its intimacy roused her and she answered with a hungering mouth and caressing hands. She swept over the woman’s back, palmed her fleshy buttocks, and stroked the scoop of her waist. The feel of silky, supple flesh delighted her and she swayed her hips languorously, pressing her pubis to Octavia’s. A warmth drummed in her sex, heavy and rich.

The door creaked and Lucy jumped. Sir Julian entered, stopping abruptly as he saw them.

‘What the devil –’ he exclaimed, staring hard, his mouth agape.

Lucy looked at him. She had expected, hoped for such a reaction when she’d arranged this. But now it seemed misplaced and foolish.

‘Go away, Julian,’ she murmured, and she meant it.

‘Let him stay if he desires to,’ countered Octavia, giving her a gentle, unseen pinch. ‘We can be alone at other times if you wish. Three is often interesting.’

Lucy was disappointed. She did not want to compete or be competed for. She did not want to prove anything. All she wanted was to explore these new sensations and other ways of pleasuring. But she relented, knowing the opportunity would be wasted if she let it pass.

‘Would you like to stay?’ she asked, her voice betraying her lack of enthusiasm.

‘I seem to recall you invited me,’ said Julian flatly. ‘Did you change your plans or is this part of them?’

Lucy shrugged and received another nip from Octavia. Putting on a brilliant smile, she sauntered over to
him, and laid her hand to his crotch. His prick was swelling and the pulsing maleness of it charged her with a fierce need.

‘We got a little distracted,’ Lucy said, gazing seductively into his steely blue eyes. ‘Why, what else is a girl to do when her lover is over half an hour late?’

She rubbed at his burgeoning erection and kissed him deeply, relishing the scouring bristles of his moustache against her upper lip. Octavia came to join her, helping Julian off with his frock coat.

‘Indeed,’ he said, whipping undone his tie. ‘I must remember to be late more often.’

He undressed quickly, and his cock jutted from his light-brown curls, deliciously stiff. Lucy fell to her knees and took his tumid length in one lavish mouthful. Octavia sank behind her and slipped a hand into the parting of her legs. Her busy fingers quested in the hot, juicy folds, dipping into Lucy’s rich well and nudging at the bead of her clitoris. Her touch was glorious.

Lucy moaned her delight around Julian’s rigid shaft, drawing back and forth with keen strength and an agile tongue. He gasped at her zeal, and pulled away from her.

‘You’ll make me spend, my sweet,’ he cautioned.

He knelt before her, his mouth seeking her breasts. He suckled on a tight, crinkled cone, and his hands roved over her flesh. Lucy exhaled deeply, wallowing in the luxury of two skilled eager lovers. It was sheer heaven to have them tending to her most sensitive parts. Her sex burned to Octavia’s expert caress, her moisture running quickly, and her nipples throbbed as Sir Julian moved from breast to breast, bestowing his wet attentions upon her.

Octavia bore her gently back to the floor, and Lucy lay supine, moaning softly. She parted her legs, her hips tipping for someone’s, anyone’s, ministrations. Julian’s fingers slipped briefly within the soaked petals of her vulva, finding her readiness. But Octavia urged him out
of the way. She knelt over Lucy and lowered her head to the juncture of her thighs. Her mouth was wide open, hot and wet, as she engulfed Lucy’s folds in a voracious sucking kiss. Her tongue slipped through Lucy’s plump lips, its tip gliding along her deep juicy valley. Then she lashed and nibbled at the knot of her pleasure bud, teasing back its hood to seek the hard pearl within.

Lucy whimpered and writhed. Octavia’s sumptuously heavy bosom rested on her belly and her legs were astride her face. Russet hair cloaked her mons, and her sex, split before Lucy’s gaze, was pouting ripely, shimmering with dew. She found the sight deliciously indecent and fiercely exciting. With a rush of appetite she clutched Octavia’s hips, urging her open thighs down to her mouth. She sipped at the other woman’s rich, briny nectar. She explored the succulent pleats of her flesh, exquisitely tender and moist, and revelled in the intoxicating scent of her musk.

Octavia mumbled throatily and Julian released a quick groan of disbelief and wanting. Lucy, aware that for the moment he was excluded, was thrilled. She knew how erect he was, how impatient he must be to take her. Let him wait, she thought, reaching to fondle Octavia’s generous breasts and toy with their great puckered tips. This was bliss beyond compare, made all the sweeter by Sir Julian’s thwarted desire.

The two women squirmed and moaned with rising pleasure. Softness pressed on softness, and Octavia guided them, rolling over, shifting positions. They lavished kisses on mouths and nipples; they rubbed their mounds together, meshing golden hair with amber; they delayed their orgasms and luxuriated in the newness of each other’s body. Julian stole an occasional caress, or snatched a fleeting kiss. But Octavia was possessive and alert, at once claiming any flesh he covered.

Eventually he huffed in frustration. ‘Are you going to let me in?’ he asked sharply. ‘Or would you prefer it if I took my leave now?’

Octavia looked at Lucy with questioningly raised brows. Lucy smiled at Julian and ran a slow gaze down his broad torso to his towering prick, deliberately critical and ponderous. He was rearing potently, his glans empurpled and glistening in the half-light. Her vagina ached to be filled by the driving strength of him, but she was guarded enough not to reveal it.

‘Don’t be churlish,’ she said, gentle and placating. ‘Stay. I’m sure you can play a part. Just try a little harder.’

With that she edged back to the bed and levered herself on to it, spreading her bent legs wide. Julian scrambled to be with her, and caught her upper body to his. His demanding mouth met hers, fiercely taking all the kisses he’d been denied. His fingers sought her wetness and he plunged three of them, over and over, into her hot swollen opening. Lucy gasped frantically. She drove herself into his hard thrusts, grinding her pubis to the heel of his hand.

‘Ah, that’s what you like, isn’t it?’ he snarled, ramming his crushed fingers deep. ‘A foretaste of fucking. You cannot fool me, Luce. A woman could never satisfy such a greedy orifice.’

‘But there are other pleasures,’ insisted Octavia, squirming into their embrace. ‘Pleasures the three of us can find.’

Her lips closed over one of Lucy’s nipples and her hand reached to clasp Julian’s cock. She pumped his rigid shaft while sucking and tonguing Lucy’s crests.

Lucy thrashed beneath them, rubbing against a hard body, a soft one. Her caresses moved everywhere, finding muscles and fleshy contours, stiffness and moisture. In the tangle of limbs she did not know whose mouth touched this place, whose fingers touched that, nor did she care. It was sublime to have such an abundance of skin and heat, to receive so much attention.

Julian knelt between her splayed thighs, cradling her buttocks, and heaved her loins towards his. The stout
knob of his phallus brushed and teased her inflamed labia. He delayed entering her, making her beg and cry for him. Her hips arched, searching for him, shaking in anticipation. But still he lingered.

Octavia straddled her belly, blocking her view of Sir Julian. She edged up, smearing her wetness over Lucy’s undulating body until her pulpy, scarlet sex was pressed to Lucy mouth. Lucy lashed and probed with her tongue, burrowing into the heat of the pliable folds, tasting the woman’s juices.

She felt the head of Julian’s cock poised at her hot openness, and she gasped urgently, her sounds muffled by Octavia’s smothering flesh. Her need for him was torment, pushing her to the very edge of endurance. Then with a brisk force, he penetrated her, shoving his gorgeous thick shaft to its limit. Her slick orifice cleaved to his warm sturdy rod, and she whined her joy, drawing Octavia closer in the fever of her excitement.

Julian slammed and jabbed with furious lust. His fingertips dug into her buttocks and he jerked her body to meet each powerful lunge. Octavia’s breath came short and fast, as Lucy nibbled eagerly on her clitoris. Then the woman climaxed with a series of husky moans, and her mouth and hands were suddenly everywhere, kissing and kneading Lucy’s creamy white curves.

‘God, you’re divine,’ mumbled Octavia, her warm lips fluttering over Lucy’s lifting bosom.

Lucy panted, her near-orgasm starting to clutch at her groin. Her clitoris seethed; her vagina throbbed, slipping and gripping around Julian’s cock. She pounded to match him, stroke for stroke, until extremity claimed her. She wailed as an eddy of pulses exploded and gushed, but Julian allowed her no respite. He snorted and gasped, driving himself on to his ultimate fulfilment.

With a hoarse shout, he tore himself free of her. His release jetted in pearly arcs, splashing hotly on to Lucy’s belly and breasts. Octavia gave a long, sonorous breath
and lovingly massaged the silky fluid into Lucy’s skin. Lucy murmured contentedly, her body sinking into the relaxation of her calmed orgasm.

Octavia smiled at Julian’s softening penis. ‘Well, that’s you finished,’ she said, without malice. She nuzzled up to Lucy and rubbed the swell of her pubis against Lucy’s plump thigh.

‘If you insist,’ replied Julian, easing himself back on to the pillows.

Lucy turned away from him, twining her legs about Octavia’s. They exchanged warm, languid kisses and gentle, snaking caresses. They tantalised each other, teasing and sucking, stirring up arousal where it tingled still.

‘Perhaps I should put up at my club tonight,’ said Julian, a note of irritation in his voice. ‘I doubt this bed will afford me much sleep.’

He did not move, and Lucy did not answer, too involved in Octavia’s flesh even to enjoy his vexation.

‘Or perhaps I should ring for some refreshments,’ he continued, pettishly seeking to be noticed. ‘A cognac would be much appreciated.’

‘Then get dressed and ring from the drawing room,’ mumbled Lucy, worrying he might call up a servant just for spite.

Julian grumbled to himself and moved from the bed to retrieve his clothes. From the corner of her eye, Lucy watched him. His face was devoid of its collected ease, and instead his brows were pinched in a frown, his lips compressed in a tight line. She felt a moment’s pleasure, recognising that she had managed to ruffle him, but the satisfaction was not as brilliant as she’d anticipated.