The Erotic Dark (13 page)

The silk of her panties had become virtually engulfed by her honeyed lips, and the button of her womanhood bulged against the material in a wanton, little exhibition of her arousal. The silk covering her buttocks was stretched so tightly that it pressed between the plump orbs.

Evidently deciding the flimsy concealment, alluring though it was, provided Lydia with too much modesty, Preston reached to unfasten the lace strings tied at her hips.

After having endured the humiliation of being shaved bare, Lydia thought she might be able to withstand this posture again. But her embarrassment flared into a firestorm when Preston began to leisurely peel the soaked silk from her engorged sex, clucking his tongue with amused censure at the copious fluids flowing from her.

“What a shame to let such honey go to waste,” he murmured. “Lydia, my dear, why don’t you serve me a cherry bathed in your own juices?”

Shocked, Lydia lifted her head to stare at him, a movement she regretted as it forced her to confront the hot looks of three men who each wished to commit any number of depraved acts upon her body.

Choking back a protest, she fumbled for another cherry. Her hand shook as she lowered it to her spread cleft. She closed her eyes, fighting the powerful urge to press the heel of her hand against her pulsing clit as she eased the little sphere of fruit partway into her channel. She quickly took her hand away, wiping her damp fingertips on her thigh.

Preston muttered something that Lydia couldn’t hear, but it caused Gabriel to emit a low chuckle. A curious stab of betrayal went through her at his cavalier attitude. Gabriel’s erection pressed heavily against the front of his trousers when he leaned over to examine the red cherry as it lay succulently immersed within Lydia’s folds. Her heart began to throb wildly when Preston pushed her legs farther apart, then lowered his blond head between them to lap at her slit.

An unbidden cry broke from Lydia’s throat at the first touch of his tongue. Her thighs quaked with arousal as he began licking and sucking a path around her sex, his tongue dancing merrily around the sensitive nub where Lydia’s excitement was centered.

When he reached the taut orifice into which she had inserted the cherry, he admired the glossy fruit for a moment, poised on the very rim of Lydia’s body, both inside and outside. Then Preston licked her juices from the cherry’s tight skin before placing his lips around the fruit and sucking it from Lydia’s body with one breath.

With a startled gasp, Lydia jerked at the sensation of the cherry slipping from her into Preston’s mouth. She stared at him through eyes wide with a mixture of apprehension and undeniable arousal.

Preston smiled at her, his mouth shiny with her fluids as he crunched on the tasty cherry. He picked up a linen napkin and patted his lips before directing Lydia to serve him a strawberry.

Her chest heaved with increasing breaths as she reached for a plump strawberry and pressed it into her body, feeling her opening stretch to receive the fruit. Preston once again drew his tongue over her intimate creases before fastening his teeth around the end of the berry as it protruded from Lydia’s slit. After devouring it in two bites, he licked the fruit-scented cream that flowed from her lips as if tidying up after a feast.

With every berry he sucked from her body, Lydia’s stimulation tightened to unfathomable degrees. Droplets of perspiration painted her skin as feminine juices streamed so plentifully from her sex that the fruit began to slip from her body before Preston could grasp hold of it.

Ecstasy dangled provocatively just beyond Lydia’s reach. Finally, just when her mind became so coated with need that she nearly allowed herself to lose control, Preston lifted his head and pushed his chair away from her.

Lydia’s body sagged with relief over the temporary reprieve, even as her mind knew he was not finished with her. Yet the pause allowed her excitement to ebb slightly so that she could recapture her self-control, a feat made all the easier when she saw Kruin approach.

Fear bit into her, dissipating her arousal as she met Kruin’s hard, inscrutable eyes. Her legs began to close instinctively, but then her brain latched on to some mechanism of self-preservation and she forced herself to part them even wider.

However, Kruin did not appear to be interested in the juncture of her thighs. Instead he mounted the table and straddled her torso. Lydia swallowed hard as she felt the heat and strength of his muscular body. He was naked from the waist down, his enormous prick sticking straight out from a lush nest of dark curls. He grasped the shaft in his hand and commanded her to press her breasts together to create a deep valley.

Trembling, Lydia obeyed, unable to take her eyes off the contrast of his darkly veined stalk nestled between the plump, white globes of her breasts.

Of all three men, Kruin was the most overwhelming with his unyielding personality and sheer size. Lydia had thought she could not possibly feel more dominated by him, but when he began thrusting between her breasts, she realized her helplessness knew no depths.

Kruin’s inner thighs stretched wide over her torso, his testicles slamming hard against the soft undersides of her breasts as he repeatedly thrust himself into her cleavage.

Lydia’s blood burned, streaming heat through her veins so rapidly that her arousal spiked once again. She tightened her grip on her sweat-dampened breasts, entranced by the sight of Kruin’s plunges, the thick head appearing and disappearing into the fleshy cavern.

So fascinated was Lydia by the erotic display that she didn’t initially notice when one of the other men pressed his hands underneath her thighs to lift them farther apart. Only when he lifted her legs fully from the table did she start with surprise. Her eyes searched the room and found Gabriel standing alongside the table. Lydia looked at him in shock. Surely Preston couldn’t mean now to…

Lydia cried out when she felt Preston’s cock pressing against her vulva. She had begun to think the men would soon do things to her simultaneously, but she hadn’t imagined the absolute embarrassment that would submerge her like a wave.

She couldn’t move for Kruin’s large body straddling her, and now Preston’s hands were digging hard into her thighs, spreading them so wide that tears filled her eyes at the utter indignity of her position.

She closed her eyes with humiliation as she felt Preston wipe her plentiful juices with a linen napkin, making some coarse remark about the extent of her arousal. Then he shoved into her with a deep groan of pleasure and began thrusting. Lydia experienced a sense of overwhelming submission, knowing both men would take their pleasure from her while denying her satisfaction.

She struggled to retain control over her unbearable excitement, feeling Preston’s slender penis jarring her lower body with repeated thrusts, while Kruin continued to stimulate himself within the confines of her breasts.

Her mind became subsumed only with sensation; the thick root causing such raw, delicious friction against her cleavage, the weight of Kruin’s body above her, the harsh grip of Preston’s fingers on her soft thighs, the persistent plunge of his cock into her.

Before Lydia realized what was happening, before she could do anything to prevent it, an orgasm began spiraling through her body like an exploding star.

She cried out with both ecstasy and dismay, unable to stop herself from succumbing to the rapturous vibrations even as she knew she was breaking the rules yet again. Her inner walls clenched around Preston’s shaft so violently that he pulled out of her with a shout and spurted all over her moist belly. Seconds later, Kruin grunted low in his chest and emitted profuse jets of semen onto Lydia’s breasts and throat.

Breathing heavily, Preston dropped Lydia’s legs back onto the table while he pulled away from her. Kruin eased himself off her body, control collecting around him once again like a perfectly tailored suit.

Lydia closed her eyes with a growing sense of dread, even as lingering pulses of pleasure continued to throb in her blood. She longed to get up and clean herself, to cover her traitorous body, but knew she had to lie there until one of them told her otherwise.

Cautiously, her eyelids fluttered open. Her gaze met Kruin’s frosty eyes first, which caused the dread to deepen. Lydia swallowed hard past a sudden lump in her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, hating the involuntary plea in her voice. “I didn’t mean to—”

Kruin shook his head in a short movement, his mouth compressing. “You’re far too undisciplined, Lydia. You have continually disobeyed a simple mandate. If you cannot even control yourself, then we will have to take further measures to control you.”

Lydia turned away, unable to bear the deep censure in his expression. The door clicked as he and Preston left the room, and then Lydia felt Gabriel’s hand brushing her disheveled hair away from her forehead.

Her eyes filled with tears at the gentleness of his touch.

“I couldn’t help it,” she choked.

“I know. You did quite well, Lydia.”

She blinked with surprise. “I did?”

Gabriel nodded. “You’ll be punished, of course, and you still resisted a bit too much, but overall, you did well. I’m proud of you.”

Lydia stared at him, astounded by how his words made her want to fall sobbing with gratitude into his arms. Never before had such simple words caused such a radiation of joy, banishing her earlier dismay.

“Oh,” she whispered, her throat clogged with tears. “Thank you.”

Gabriel smiled and pressed his lips against her forehead. “You’re learning. We all know that.”

After he left the room, Lydia lay on the table for a long while, trying to process the myriad sensations and emotions that had swirled through her mind and body.

Then from deep inside her soul, she unearthed the surprising vow that someday, somehow, she would earn Kruin’s approval.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lydia raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she saw Gabriel come out onto the veranda. Dropping the trowel she had been using to plant a tray of fresh pansies, she approached him. He had been away from the plantation a great deal in the past few days, which had created a perpetual knot of anxiety within her soul.

Although he was equally capable of issuing commands, not to mention being aroused by her humiliations, Gabriel’s presence continued to serve as a strong counterbalance to Preston’s cruel amusement and Kruin’s contempt.

Lydia dusted dirt from her hands as she climbed the veranda steps. Something inside her calmed as she met his warm, green eyes. He poured a glass of lemonade from a pitcher that rested on the veranda table and held it out to her.

Lydia accepted the glass gratefully and took a long swallow, closing her eyes as the sweet, tangy liquid flowed down her throat.

“You’ve all been gone quite a bit lately,” she remarked, drawing her fingers across her lips to wipe away lingering drops of lemonade.

His eyebrows rose. “You’ve noticed.”

“How could I not?” Lydia sank into a chair and leaned her head against the back. “May I ask why?”

“Preston and Kruin have mainly been taking care of retaining our anonymity.”

Lydia stiffened with a rush of shock. “Is it in danger of being discovered?”

Gabriel poured a glass of lemonade and sat beside her. “No, not at all. And it won’t be, but keeping our anonymity requires maintenance. Preston and Kruin are vigilant about that. I attend to most of the things with regard to the plantation.”

Lydia turned her head to look at him, admiring the masculine planes of his profile. “Gabriel?”

“Hmm?”

“Will there ever be a time when I’ll do any of that?”

He reached over and patted her hand. “Maybe someday, Lydia. Not any time soon, but someday.”

His words eased away some of her trepidation. Although she knew she couldn’t be allowed any autonomy right now, it was comforting to discover that Gabriel, at least, thought she eventually might have some measure of independence.

She looked down at Gabriel’s hand, which still rested upon hers. The back of his hand was strong and tanned, dusted with dark hairs. With the tip of her forefinger, she traced his long fingers that had provided her with such pleasure. It occurred to her then that although she had been extraordinarily intimate with him—with all three men—they had never performed an act as simple and beautiful as holding hands.

Almost cautiously, Lydia turned her hand so her palm rested upward. A hint of relief rose in her when Gabriel laced his fingers through hers, his hand closing warmly over her palm.

They sat that way for a long time as a hot breeze drifted through the screens surrounding the veranda. Then Gabriel’s hand tightened on hers.

“Lydia, you should know Preston is planning a social event.”

She gave him a startled look. “Here?”

He nodded. “A party, actually. He’s been very occupied with plans. It’ll take place in two weeks.”

Lydia stared at him, her heart suddenly pounding. “Gabriel, you can’t be serious. How can there possibly be a party here?”

“Between the three of us, we have a very wide social circle, as you can imagine. But within that circle, there’s one that’s much smaller and far more…clandestine.”