Divine Solace: 8 (40 page)

Gen didn’t buy it. She’d lay money, whether Noah admitted it
or not, that he’d never looked at anyone the way he was looking at Lyda now.

She knew Lyda saw it, because Gen was starting to learn her
face, those minute shifts in features. When something moved her and she didn’t
necessarily want to show it, there was a tightening around her mouth, a quick
glitter in her gaze, like a sudden shooting star, her reaction too bright and
quick to shadow.

“On your back.” Lyda’s attention shifted to his cock.
“You’re going to have to work on getting that a bit harder, aren’t you? Do it,
while I’m watching you.”

Noah stretched out at Lyda’s command, one hand curled around
his thick shaft. He stroked and squeezed, thumbed his slit, teased his corona.
He knew his body well, and it responded to that and Lyda’s attention, his
buttocks tightening against the carpet as he pushed his cock deeper into his
grip. As his gaze moved hungrily over his Mistress’s naked form, standing over
him, he slid his other hand over the carpet, stopping at the side of her foot.
She glanced down at it, then shifted her gaze back to him. Whatever he saw gave
him the latitude to move his hand over her foot, curl around the top of it.

“It’s nice having him working for me,” Lyda said casually.
“I can role play sexual harassment scenarios all day. Though I need to have
Brendan give him drama lessons. He doesn’t do self-righteous helpless
indignation.” Her lips quirked.

It took Gen a moment to catch up, realize Lyda was talking
to her. The two of them had her mesmerized. “Look at that cock,” Lyda purred.
“Getting nice and hard for me.”

She straddled him, going gracefully to her knees. Moving his
hand out of the way with an imperious nudge, she wrapped her own around his
jutting cock.

“Hands above your head, Noah. I’m in charge here.”

Lyda sank to the hilt upon him smoothly, showing how well
their bodies knew one another. She let out a little hum at the sensation, her
thighs tightening around his hips, ass flattening against the tops of his
thighs as she bore down, took him as deep as she could. Noah’s face went rigid
with pleasure and concentration, his knuckles pushing into the carpet. Gen’s
pussy gave an unmistakable twinge of longing.

The clock began to chime. “I’m yours, Mistress.” It was a
soft plea. When Lyda looked her way, Gen hoped she saw that she meant it. Maybe
not just in the heat of a session like this, but other times as well. She’d
gotten into a cage for her. Jesus.

Lyda extended a hand. “Come here, rabbit. Bring that
footstool by my bed.”

Noah reflected avid pleasure at the command. They were good
at that. Gen never felt forgotten or ignored, even when Lyda was spinning
things up between her and Noah specifically. Like a three-member cast. They
might have different timing for entering or exiting the scene, but all three
were still part of the play.

When she brought her the carved wooden stool, Lyda put it
down, showing her that it was wide enough to bracket Noah’s lower chest, right
in front of Lyda’s knees, and tall enough it cleared him by a mere couple of
inches. The implication made Gen swallow on a dry throat, particularly when
Lyda gripped Gen’s hand with a fierceness that conveyed the arousal Lyda was
experiencing, impaled on Noah. “Watch,” Lyda said.

She must have tightened her internal muscles, because a
groan slipped from his lips. Lyda rose on her knees, his cock sliding slowly
from her cunt. Gen looked at that joining point, fascinated as Lyda reached the
head, then reversed, coming back down just as slow, using a palm braced on the
stool to control her descent. Noah’s hips jerked, his whole body contracting in
a mouthwatering way to stay still.

Lyda did it again, her gaze fastened on his face. Gen
watched them both, aching. She squeezed Lyda’s hand in unspoken need.

“I think she wants to play too,” Lyda said, breathless.
“Come here, Gen.”

She guided Gen to straddle Noah, Gen facing Lyda. Bringing
her down on the stool in front of her, Lyda cupped Gen’s ass in both hands and
directed Gen’s legs over her own. Then she had Gen slide forward so her pussy
came flush against Lyda’s lower abdomen, her inner thighs against Lyda’s sides,
her heels pressed to the outside of Noah’s legs. They were close enough Lyda’s
breasts dragged a teasing course up Gen’s stomach, then pressed into her own
bosom. Anything Gen might say was caught in a gasp.

Nudging her head back, Lyda kissed her throat, then bit. Gen
wound her arms around Lyda’s shoulders, fingers tangling in her hair. Lyda’s
arms bound low around her back and hips in answer, holding her close, face
pressed into her throat. “That’s my girl. Hang on for the ride.”

Another rise and fall, Lyda moving against Gen’s body, lifting
her with the movement. Gen had a hysterical, lust-induced vision of a carousel
horse, only this was a much different ride from when she was a child. As Lyda
lifted and lowered her body, Gen’s clit rubbed against her tight lower abdomen,
her legs locking around Lyda’s body to increase the sensation. Lyda’s nipples
slid across Gen’s curves, then came in direct contact with her own taut peaks.
It wrenched a moan from her throat. Lyda murmured against her, licked and bit
her throat again. Then she closed her mouth on one of those aching points.

Gen made another throaty sound as Lyda suckled her, nipped
sharp enough to make her jump, her pussy cream. She’d be marking Lyda with that
fluid. It would roll down, join the lubrication Lyda and Noah were producing
from their own arousal. She realized then that Lyda didn’t have him using a
condom. Gen envied that direct contact.

As Lyda kept working herself on his cock, her breath a rush
against Gen’s throat, Noah’s hands slid onto Gen’s hips, overlapping Lyda’s.

“I can take both of you,” he said, his voice rough with
lust. “Let me feel her against me, Mistress. If that pleases you.”

“You please me, Noah. You both do.” Lyda eased Gen back to
her feet. Gen moved the stool and then, at Lyda’s direction, she sank back
down. The brief brush of her wet pussy again Lyda’s stomach made her shudder,
but Lyda had a steadying hold on her, bringing her all the way back down so her
ass rested on Noah’s stomach, her legs curved around Lyda and heels resting
behind her, between Noah’s spread knees.

She noticed Lyda kept a firm grip on her ass. “Bet you wish
you could rub your pussy against that nice washboard of his, don’t you, Gen?
I’ll let you come that way sometime. Would you like that?”

She nodded, then remembered. “Yes ma’am.”

“Lean back and arch your body toward me.”

She felt Noah’s hands curve around her upper arms, so she
could rely on his strength to follow his Mistress’s direction. Whenever he
touched her, she trusted him with anything. She was getting there with Lyda as well.
Dropping her head back, knowing her hair would be brushing his chest and
throat, it made her smile when he caught a strand in his mouth and tugged. Then
her gaze went back to Lyda to see what her Mistress would demand next, and more
serious emotions took over once more.

Lyda was fucking him again. Her toned thighs flexed as she
took Noah deep, squeezed him as she rose almost to the glans, then went back
down, her cunt making that enthralling sucking noise. Gen wanted to put her
hand to her own pussy, stroke. Noah’s thighs trembled, hips jerking even harder
at his Mistress’s order of self-restraint. With him making those small bucks of
motion under her, feeling the flex of his fingers on her biceps, it was clear
to Gen how much he wanted to thrust up, fuck his Mistress as intensely as she
was doing to him. Gen was ready to beg for all of them.

Lyda put her hands on Gen’s hips then. “How flexible are
you? Tell me if this is too much of a strain.”

She eased Gen up into more of an arch, her thigh muscles elongating
as Lyda pushed her into a position where her pussy was tilted up at a higher
angle, more accessible to her Mistress. This time when Lyda slid up Noah’s
cock, her clit brushed Gen’s, and Gen understood what she was wanting. The
searing pleasure of it helped her be even more flexible.

She arched further, and, despite the strain, bumped against
Lyda’s pussy again. Noah helped, pushing her even closer, and Gen made a soft
cry.

“Give us both a lap dance,” Lyda’s voice was thick, her eyes
glowing. “Rub your ass against his stomach, then bring your pussy back to
mime.”

She did it, orbiting between those two points. Noah’s hands
again flexed on her in convulsive response as Lyda closed in on her own climax.
Gen couldn’t create enough friction to reach climax herself, but she realized
she was flying simply from servicing both of them. Her climax wasn’t the point.
The clock chimed again.

“I’m yours, Mistress.”

“All of you? Cunt, heart? Mind?”

“Yes,” Gen gasped.

Watching her Mistress’s face, Gen felt a bond with Noah,
knowing they were both working to give Lyda a climax as intense as what she’d
given them. Beyond that, they had a selfish shared desire, wanting their
Mistress to come, knowing they were the cause. For just an instance, she
imagined herself with a tattoo that said “Yours” as well, only she had no
confusion about exactly who she would mean.

Lyda moved her hands from Gen’s hips to her breasts,
squeezing them, then slid down again, scraping her nails over Gen’s clit before
she cupped Gen’s buttocks once more, ensuring more prolonged contact between
their centers.

“There you go. Work that little pussy against me. Let me
feel how much you want to be fucked again.”

Gen ground against her, teased Noah with the slide of her
buttocks over his stomach. Another climax finally started to unfurl inside her.

“Ah…that’s it…” Lyda bounced hard on Noah’s loins, her
breasts quivering, fingers bruising Gen’s flesh where she held onto her. A
flush swept up from her loins and across her sternum and throat. “Now, Noah…”

At the strangled cry, Noah thrust up, deep and hard. It
detonated Gen’s own climax. Lyda kept rising and falling, fucking Noah, teasing
them both with how damn good she felt. She was a visual feast, every movement,
the quiver of her breasts, the lengths of her thighs, the column of her throat…

“Mistress…” Gen made a helpless noise and Lyda seized her
nape, bringing her up to her mouth and pulling her from Noah’s hands. Noah
shifted his grip down to Gen’s hips, giving her the stability she needed as she
and Lyda slid off that cliff together, moaning into one another’s mouths, a
feeling that intensified as Noah let go as well, hips jacking up deeper into
his Mistress, the vibration sending an additional shot of response through Gen.
It was like everything each one of them did made it more intense for all of
them.

It was forever before they slowed. When they finally came to
a halt, Lyda had her arms curled around Gen, was putting a teasing kiss at the
corner of her mouth. Noah’s fingers were embedded in Gen’s hips, and she never
wanted him to let go. Lyda insisted, though, having other demands to make of
them.

Lyda turned Gen around, had her straddle Noah facing him
this time, standing on her knees. His hands slid up Gen’s thighs, eyes dark and
mouth a sensual firm line as he spoke past her to Lyda. “I like it when you’re
both sitting on me, Mistress.

“We’d eventually squash your internal organs,” Lyda said,
amused. “You’d die.”

“What a way to go. Under two gorgeous, naked women.” He
smiled then, lazy and wicked. With no warning at all, he jackknifed up, rolled
and pinned both women, catching Lyda with a leg thrown over her thigh, an arm
around her waist. Gen was sandwiched between as he gathered them close. Lyda
propped her head on her hand, ignoring the tangle of limbs, though her hand
fell on his shoulder, caressing it.

“You don’t get off me, boy, I’ll use a zip tie on your ball
sac.”

Instead, he shifted next to Gen to nuzzle Lyda’s breast,
then put his lips over it, began to suckle. Lyda’s other breast was right in
front of Gen. Noah’s hand was on her back, exerting a slight pressure, an
encouraging and clear message.

It was a sweet pleasure, hearing their Mistress sigh as they
each suckled a nipple. Lyda stroked them both, making a little hum as they
savored the taste of her, of having their Mistress beneath them. Still in
control, but giving them the rare gift of her trust.

As Gen shifted to her throat, tasting her pulse, Noah was
moving down Lyda’s body. The two of them were devouring her, and Lyda was
letting them.

Noah kissed his way over Lyda’s abdomen, down her side,
working his way to her thighs. Gen lifted up over her, hands braced on either
side of Lyda’s shoulders. When Lyda’s lips parted, eyes glazing, a glance back
showed Noah now had his mouth between her legs. A faint hum told Gen he’d
engaged that blissful tongue stud.

Gen bent down and covered Lyda’s mouth with hers, tongue
delving deep. Endless. How many times had they come tonight? Shouldn’t they all
be exhausted now? But no, it was as if they wanted to explore how many
different ways they could bring one another pleasure, how many different
crevices and expanses of flesh they could taste with tongue and lips. Lyda
broke the kiss, but only so she could push Gen further up, and latch onto her
breast anew, take a hard pull as Noah worked between his Mistress’s legs. Gen
gasped, tightening her fingers in Lyda’s hair, looking back to watch. He’d be
worrying her clit between her teeth, plunging his tongue deep between those wet
folds. He had his hands beneath Lyda’s thighs, and her ankles were locked over
his back.

Gen slid an exploratory hand down, played between Noah’s
lips and tongue, over Lyda’s clit and labia. The woman nipped the underside of
her breast, a rebuke, but one that didn’t stop Gen from continuing to flick at
her clit, loving the jerks of her hips, her reaction to the jolts of sensation.