Divine Solace: 8 (52 page)

“I can and will do this,” she said. “Bring her inside,
Noah.”

Noah paused. Though they both realized proving herself was
important to Lyda, protecting her was equally important to them. So Noah
scooped Gen up and brought her to the door as Lyda bid, but he did it fast. By
the time Lyda was out of the car and had taken the first step or two with the
cane, he was back by her side.

She’d removed the heels, held them hooked on one finger, so
he took them from her with gentle courtesy, keeping his gaze on her progress.
Lyda kept her eyes on Gen, waiting for them in an outfit designed for one
thing—to encourage lots of hot, over-the-top sex. Gen already had the door
open.

When they stepped inside, Lyda moved past them, toward the
living room. Dropping the keys she’d taken from Gen onto the side table, she
dropped into a wing-backed chair. As she placed the cane at her side, Noah and
Gen came to her, hand in hand. They sank to their knees before her that way.
Gen remembered the first time she’d knelt to Lyda, struggling with what it
meant. Now it was pure instinct and desire.

“I’ll watch the two of you first.” Lyda’s voice was low, the
command unmistakable, running a thrill up Gen’s spine. “Noah, she’s yours right
now. All yours. You fuck her exactly the way you’ve been wanting since you
laced her up tonight. And Gen…when you don’t think you can hold back anymore,
you ask
him
for permission.”

Lyda had never placed that power in Noah’s hands. Gen sensed
his surprise, his flicker of uncertainty. But then his gaze slid over to her.
Giving him a look under her lashes she intended to be a sexual challenge,
bringing him right to the end of a frayed leash, she tipped forward, sank onto
her elbows, leaving her hips high in the air. She adjusted her knees wide, the
points of her heels facing upward. Adding to the whole erotic quotient, she
wrapped both her hands around Lyda’s right ankle, her forehead against the tip
of Lyda’s shoe. She was at both their mercy.

Noah’s hand slid along her calf, caressed the muscle. Taking
hold of her foot, he slid off one heel, then the other. As she shivered, he
teased her ankle with light caresses. Her pussy got wetter.

“She’s dripping on the carpet, Mistress.”

“Take care of the mess you’ve made, then.”

Gen heard him slip the buckle of his belt, the whisper of
the zipper of the slacks parting. Then his hands were on her ass.

“Beg him, Gen.”

“Please, Noah. Please fuck me.”

He parted her buttocks, played with her rim, then his thumbs
dipped into that vat of wetness between her legs. “Please…” She moaned as he
rubbed. She knew he was hard as a rock. Knew he was tormenting her further,
getting off on it. She gripped Lyda’s ankle, trying not to cut off circulation.

Noah straightened, shifting his grip to her hair. His
fingers tightened into a scalp-pulling hold as he slowly, slowly brought her
head up until she was staring into Lyda’s intent expression. She had that
faintly cruel, queen-on-her-throne look, feeding off Gen’s denial, her
frustrated arousal, like a drug available only to royalty.

“She’s dying for your cock, Noah. Do it.”

Gen screamed as Noah shoved into her all at once, a hard
thrust that stretched her unused tissues. It hurt but it felt so, so good. He
kept the hold on her hair, forcing her to stare into Lyda’s face, so their
Mistress could see every expression as he let loose just as she’d given him
permission to do. He fucked Gen like a man who’d been nursing a hard-on for
weeks, dreaming about the women who were within arm’s reach but inaccessible.
He fucked her in a way that said it went beyond that, that the need and
cravings building all these weeks had as much to do with confirming they were
alive, connected, together, still part of him, as anything else.

Similar emotions unfolded in her as he kept going, became
even more savage, perhaps fighting the demons inside him that said he wasn’t
allowed to feel that way. It was as if he was trying to fuck them into silence.
When he let go of her hair and covered her, wrapping his arm around her chest,
forcing her back down to her elbows as if they were both genuflecting to Lyda
while he hammered Gen’s cunt before her, Gen kept one hand on Lyda’s ankle but
gripped his forearm, digging in her nails.

“I’m here…we’re here…” It was like the
Mine, ours
,
wasn’t it? The same message. Her clit was throbbing, and each time his
testicles slapped against it, she thrummed with the intensity. She wanted to
come. Wanted to come for him, for Lyda. Yet…

“Help…Noah, please…”

“God, yes,” he muttered.

It wasn’t a surprise to her that he understood, even with
the two of them shaking, so close to that edge. When he pulled back out, she
even made a heartfelt whimper that was echoed by a violent clench in her pussy.
She was so close to climax.

Noah rose on his knees behind her. Gen could only imagine
the delicious picture he made, cock stiff, glistening with her juices. His hand
slid from her hair, up the slope of her back, to rest on her hip. “We want to
give our Mistress pleasure first,” he said.

Gen lifted her head to see Lyda lick her lips, gaze shifting
between the two of them. “What if that’s not what I want? You think I’ll let my
cunt run the show any more than I’ll let the two of you run it?”

“No Mistress.” Noah shook his head. “We just… It needs to
be…all of us. Together.”

“Together,” Gen whispered, pressing her lips against Lyda’s
ankle.

Lyda bent forward, touching Gen’s back. Gen thought she also
reached out, grazed Noah’s face, or perhaps the slope of his chest, rising and
falling with his exertions, the sexual fervor driving him.

“All right,” their Mistress said. “But you two better not
think this is going to become a habit. Tuck yourself back into those slacks and
take Gen to my bed, Noah. On her back. Make her comfortable, because we’re
going to use her hard.”

Gen straightened at that delicious threat, crooking her arm
around Noah’s neck as he scooped her off the floor. She could have walked, but
now that they’d gained Lyda’s acquiescence, they wanted to follow everything
she demanded. He laid her on the bed, stepped back, those intent eyes resting
on her as they waited on their Mistress, making her way down the hall. When she
came into the bedroom, she moved to the edge of the bed. Just like Noah, she
lingered on Gen’s breasts and hips, her sex, all enhanced by the waist cincher.
Gen felt like a visual feast, the two of them devouring her.

“I may make you walk around in one of those all the time,”
Lyda observed. “I don’t think Noah would object. But I’d have to keep his cock
in a chastity cage to teach him to deal with it without a perpetual hard-on.
Can’t have his brains in his cock all the time.”

“I’m not seeing the downside,” Gen responded breathlessly,
her gaze sliding down Noah to the sizeable object of the discussion, straining
beneath the slacks.

“Hmm.” Lyda pivoted toward Noah. “I want my corset off.”

Noah helped Lyda slide off the bolero jacket, then unhooked
the corset. Since Lyda’s back was to Gen, she saw the garment loosen. When he
peeled it off her body, Lyda slid her arms under his and stepped into him. Gen
noticed her left ankle was trembling, but Noah did too, his arms circling their
Mistress in response, holding her up. Other than that, he remained still as her
hands roved across his back, down, and took what seemed to be a very firm grip
on his ass.

“I’d forgotten how very nice it is to touch you,” Lyda said.
Noah put his face into her throat, pressing his lips there. Lyda tilted her
head, giving him access, and she stroked his hair, releasing the clasp so the
glory of that russet mane spilled across his shoulders. Then her hands were
between them, loosening his tie, stripping it out of its knot and letting it
lie along either panel of his shirt as she unbuttoned it. Gen had seen Noah’s
bare chest plenty of times, but watching Lyda revealing it an inch at a time
made it a whole new experience. Lyda caught both ends of the tie, twisted and
held them against his throat, her knuckles pressed into his flesh beneath it.

“You knew you wouldn’t survive if you got us out of the car
first.”

If Noah was startled by the abrupt shift, he rallied fast,
jaw tightening. “No, I didn’t know. I hoped I would live. But your lives were
more important to me than mine.”

Lyda brushed her knuckles up his throat, to his jaw. “That’s
the first time you’ve done that,” she observed, a husky whisper. “In the past,
you would have simply said our lives were more important than yours.”

His eyes flickered, puzzled. Gen had caught it as well,
though. Those two words “to me” were actually quite significant. A man might
give his life for a stranger because of moment of conscience, a selfless act.
Whereas a person sacrificed his life for a loved one because there was simply
no other choice, that very personal, unique connection of love trumping any
other consideration of personal value. Because that person being saved was
theirs. Their personal, unique person, to watch over, to sacrifice oneself for.

To the person saved, it might not really matter why the
person had done it, but in this case, the distinction was extremely important
to the two people saved. Gen didn’t want to put too much into it, but Lyda
pointing it out suggested a further cause for hope, for the future they had
together.

With her usual intuition, though, Lyda left it there. She’d
turned to other matters. Letting the tie drop to the floor, she pushed his
shirt off, hands caressing the roundest part of his shoulders, the muscle
groups in his arms, wandering over his pectorals, down to his abdomen to unhook
his slacks. “You dressed up for me, didn’t you?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Did you put cologne on your balls?” She pressed her bare
breasts against his chest then and pushed his slacks down herself, cupping his
ass anew. Noah’s eyes closed, his hands gripping her waist. Gen savored the
beautiful, vulnerable pose.

“Yes,” he said.

“Tease. Take the rest of it off.”

Lyda stepped back as he complied. While he did, she tugged
down the zipper of her skirt, wiggled out of it, let it drop. The swatch of
panties followed. Now only Gen wore anything, but the way they both turned to
her, their avid gazes drinking in the way she was cinched in the middle like a
wrapped piece of candy, she thought Lyda might actually not ever let her wear
anything else in the house.

Noah lifted Lyda onto the bed. When she was on it on all
fours, she gave him a teasing look over her shoulder. His grimace of near pain
amused her as she slid between Gen’s legs like a female cat stalking dinner.
She dropped a kiss on Gen’s mound, making her quiver, then eased her weight
fully onto her, pressing her palms on either side of her shoulders.

It speared Gen with desire, longing and a love so strong,
tears stung her eyes.

“Look at me, Gen. Let me see what you’re thinking.”

She lifted her lashes. She started to reach up, but Lyda
shook her head. “Un-unh. Over your head. I want to see you stretched out under
me, all mine, legs spread, arms out of the way. Full submission, baby girl.
Prove who your Mistress is. Say it.”

“You,” Gen managed, her throat thick. “Yours.” Lyda’s gaze
softened, and then she slid her pussy against Gen’s, a welcome, a renewal, a
reacquaintance. Gen shuddered, and Lyda did it again. Gen tilted her hips up,
bringing wetness against wetness. Lyda bent, put her mouth on Gen’s breast. It
pressed her knees into the bed between Gen’s and likely tilted up Lyda’s hips,
if Noah’s suppressed groan was any indication.

“Noah, why is my pussy empty? Your cock is supposed to be in
it.”

If he could have leaped on the bed, Gen thought he would
have. As it was, he was behind Lyda in a blink. As he banded his arm firmly
around her waist, his gaze met Gen’s over Lyda’s shoulder. That hold wasn’t
incommensurate with his desires, but he knew, as she did, Lyda’s right arm
wasn’t going to bear her own weight for long. They could care for her as she
cared for them. As they cared for each other.

“Slow and easy. I want to feel every blissful inch. You move
with me as I move with Gen. We’ll see how good your coordination is.” Lyda gave
Gen a wink, though Gen saw the strain around her mouth, evidence of shuddering
arousal. “Men tend to be hammer and nail, whereas we girls know the pleasure of
taking the winding road.” She demonstrated with another lazy rotation against
Gen’s pussy that had her gasping, lifting up to her Mistress.

She knew when Noah pushed into Lyda that blissful inch at a
time, because she saw the tightening of her facial features, the arch of her
body, felt the quiver that went through her. Since Noah was standing on his
knees behind Lyda, Gen also saw his muscle groups tighten, his absorption in
the way being inside his Mistress felt.

Gen dug into the headboard as Lyda kept up that friction
between them, using the slickness to intensify it. And Noah, bless his ability
to follow a meandering road, figured out the rhythm that brought them together,
a mix of hammer and nail thrusting and spirals that built in speed and intent
as the three of them created a symphony of shifting bodies, gasping breaths,
soft pleas, harsh grunts, muttered oaths. It was the pleasure of making love
and fucking at once, of being together and being alive.

“I can’t…” Gen had been so close before, and now, the two of
them were a force she couldn’t resist. “Mistress, please…may I come?”

“What do you think, Noah?” Lyda let out a small moan Gen
treasured as Noah punctuated her question with a powerful thrust. He set his
teeth to Lyda’s throat.

“Yes. Fuck, God. Let her go, Mistress.” He shook his head.
“Let her go over.”

Lyda met Gen’s gaze. “A fine distinction, Noah. Go over for
us, Gen.”

With Lyda stimulating her with every intentional and
indirect movement of her body, the latter thanks to Noah’s efforts, Gen
exploded into the climax. That delicious rush of fluid bathed her labia,
spurted against Lyda’s cunt. It would slide through those slick folds and pool
against Noah’s testicles. Gen let the thought add to the searing pleasure of
everything that came crashing down on her then. She had only one thing she
wanted more.

“Please…” She wailed it as she fell over that cliff’s edge.
“You…two…come…too.”

There would be very few times she’d ever be able to order
Lyda around. But this desperate demand was the one exception. Lyda’s flesh
convulsed against her, her face going rigid with pleasure. But Gen also saw and
felt the strain that gripped their Mistress, as she tried so hard to fly…and
came up short.

“Noah,” Gen gasped.

Noah, as melded to them as if he stood inside both their
souls, adjusted the band of his arm and his stance, so he supported even more
of Lyda’s weight. At the same moment, Gen disobeyed her Mistress. She put her
hands against Lyda’s shoulders, and lifted her hips, taking over that spiraling
motion. It gave Lyda the support her still healing body needed to catch the
wave of the climax, ride its power with them.

Linked like that, they tumbled into bliss.

* * * * *

Gen laid a slice of the gourmet Colby cheese blend in the
frying egg, checking on the toast in the warmer as she did so. Lyda was reading
at the kitchen table and sipping her coffee as she was wont to do when she was
first waking up. Even before the accident, Sunday morning was the one day she
deviated from her regimented schedule. No exercise on that day, and she allowed
herself one indulgence, toasted thick wheat bread she bought from a locally run
bakery that made the stuff from scratch. She spread natural blackberry
preserves on it. Since having it the first time, Gen wasn’t sure why anyone
would buy sliced, packaged bread again.

She glanced out the window, where she occasionally glimpsed
Noah around the greenhouses. He was doing the minimum necessary daily check on
the stock and irrigation. Lyda cared for her more delicate tropical plants like
children, tending them so carefully they were delivered to customers without
even a blemished leaf.

“Come look at this.”

Turning the heat down on the omelet, Gen came to her side.
Lyda was considering adding hardscape features to her landscape design
offerings, so was perusing an array of images on her tablet. “I searched on
erotic statuary.”

Gen chuckled. “You’re going to start a trend of erotic lawn
art in the Tampa area?”

“No. Smartass.” Lyda slid an arm around Gen’s thighs,
knuckles stroking her hip as Gen leaned against her. “This is for my own
gardens. I liked some of the things I saw at Tyler’s place last time I was
there. I don’t have his budget, of course.”

“There are Saudi princes who wish they had his budget.” Gen
bent closer to look at the picture on the tablet. “That’s…oh. Well.”

The piece showed two very handsome, muscular nude males
having sex, one pressed down on all fours while the other was buried inside
him. A woman was stretched out on her hip on a low brick wall beside them, as
if they were copulating in a garden setting. She was naked as well, but in a
position and with an expression that said she was in charge of them both. Her
foot, dangling off the wall, was brushing against the back and hip of the man
on top. Her other hand was tangled in the bottom man’s hair, fingers gripped
tight.

“It’s a J. Martin,” Lyda said. “Actually…” She enlarged the
picture on the screen. “J. Martin and Thomas Wilder. A collaboration.”

“Oh. Wow. Well, it’s gorgeous, but you can’t afford a J.
Martin. Not unless you sacrifice every penny of next year’s profits.”

“Since when are you an art aficionado?” Lyda scoffed.

Lyda had stumbled this morning getting out of bed and
wrenched her still weak ankle, which probably explained why she sounded a
little cranky. Or maybe she wasn’t cranky. She was just teasing Gen in that
edgy way of hers.

That was what Gen told herself, even as that part of her
that never reacted well to moments like this curled into a defensive ball.

“Even us trailer park trash occasionally read an article,”
she said, retreating back to the stove. She was past this stuff. She should be
past this stuff.

“Hey.”

She lifted her head, found Lyda pinning her with a look.
“Where did that come from?”

“Sorry. Knee-jerk reaction. I know you didn’t mean it that
way. Forget it.”

“I won’t. Come back here.”

“This will burn.” She flipped the omelet, turned off the
stove. Picking up the hand towel, she shook her head. “I mean it, can we just
forget it? I don’t know why I said something that dumb.”

“Neither do I. Which is why I want to know why.” Lyda
extended a hand. Still imperious, but something kinder in her expression that
had Gen reluctantly coming to her, letting her hand be taken. Lyda reached up,
touched her face. “What the hell, rabbit?”

Gen sighed, wishing she could just throw the towel over her
head. “It was your tone of voice. I know you were teasing or just irritable. I
have this weird trigger about things like that. I
know
you didn’t mean
it. Old stuff, you know?”

Lyda studied her, then pulled her down to eye level, pushing
a lock of hair over Gen’s ear, tugging it before she settled her hand on her
shoulder, thumb sliding along the base of her throat. “Okay. But it’s not the
first time I’ve seen you do that. Despite how accomplished you are, you think
because I’m better educated or grew up with more money, that I look down on
you.”