by Nina Lane
Now, as she watched him sit, curling his big hands over the arms of the chair, she knew her desire to please him would never wane, no matter her fear of his intentions. She ran her hands over the ruffled skirt, her nerves still strung tight over this strange combination of being both clothed and naked.
And then, to her utter, utter relief, Kruin motioned her toward him with a crook of his finger. Lydia crossed to him on shaking legs, her pulse hammering wildly as she lowered herself across his lap.
An immense and strange feeling of belonging overcame her at the sensation of his muscular thighs beneath her, the skim of his hand over her naked thighs, the scent of his shaving cream. She let out a sigh, squirming her hips a little and providing both men with an enticing display of her bottom.
Gabriel stirred, pushing away from the table and moving closer for a better view of the proceedings. Lydia turned her head to watch him, their eyes meeting through the veil of hair that had fallen over her face.
Then Kruin’s hand was moving up her leg again, and she closed her eyes to absorb the sheer pleasure of his touch. And in that moment, she surrendered all over again.
Ah, if only she knew how lovely she looked. Gabriel’s cock was heavy and pulsed against his thigh, but he didn’t yet move to release the thick shaft from the confines of his trousers.
Instead he simply enjoyed the sight of Lydia’s voluptuous form draped over Kruin’s lap, the pert mounds of her buttocks—still bearing the evidence of Preston’s punishment—upturned as if in offering. Her breasts, still barely concealed by the ruffled bodice of her apron, were pillowed against Kruin’s thigh. Her luscious bare legs were stretched out behind her, her pink-tipped toes digging into the plush carpet.
She wiggled and parted her legs when Kruin’s hand continued its quest up her inner thigh. Gabriel saw the supplication in her body, the way she molded herself against the other man’s thighs in readiness for the spanking he was certain to administer.
Kruin, however, was a man of inordinate self-possession, and he spent a good amount of time rubbing his hand over Lydia’s naked behind, stroking his finger into the furrow between her buttocks and down to her tempting little slit. Lydia panted and writhed, twisting every now and then to gaze at Kruin in desperation, but her silent pleas had no effect on his self-control.
Only when he was ready did Kruin lift his arm and land the first slap on Lydia’s white cheeks.
“Oh!” She gasped, jerking forward, her fingers curling into the carpet. The smack of flesh against flesh filled the air as Kruin began to rain a pattern of spanks on his eager captive. Her bottom began to redden most becomingly, the evidence of her arousal glossing her inner thighs.
Lust pulsed through Gabriel alongside the beat of his heart. His erection throbbed. Much as he enjoyed the sensation of Lydia lying over his own lap, this particular sight—especially her clad in that ruffled apron with the red bow still perched on her lower back—aroused him to a fever pitch. She gave gasping, little cries with every spank, her hips twisting as if to both escape and accept the impact of Kruin’s broad hand.
When tears began to leak down her face, Kruin paused and stroked his palm over her flushed behind, a rhythm that soothed Lydia’s cries. Gabriel ached to feel the hot skin of her bottom against his belly, and when Kruin grasped Lydia’s waist and lifted her from his lap, Gabriel moved forward.
He cupped Lydia’s damp face in his hands, lowering his head to give her a gentle kiss before sliding his lips to her ear.
“You’ve always thought you were the one being punished,” he whispered. “I don’t know if you’ve ever realized just how much control you possess.”
She sighed, her body going limp and pliant against his. Her smooth bare skin was hot to the touch, and he knew the sensations coursing through her blood were reaching their apex.
One command from Kruin and she went down on her knees in front of him, her eyes heavy and dark. She moved between Kruin’s legs and began to work the fastenings of his trousers.
In seconds, she had the other man’s massive cock in her mouth, bracing her hands on his muscular thighs as she took in his erection as far as she could. A low groan rumbled Kruin’s chest. He gripped her head with his hands. Lydia swirled her tongue over his shaft, arching her body so her buttocks thrust out toward Gabriel in invitation.
He worked the zipper on his own trousers, his gaze stroking the pretty pink globes, her luscious thighs parted to reveal the wet slit he couldn’t wait to plunder. When his own erection was pulsing in his hand, he positioned himself behind Lydia and dipped the head of his cock into her channel.
His head swam, blinding flashes of pleasure and urgency consuming his entire body. He gripped Lydia’s hips and pressed forward, finally sinking into her with a groan as her hot behind met the flat muscles of his belly. She gave a choked cry of pleasure, wiggling her hips so that her rear rubbed against him.
Gabriel gritted his teeth and began to thrust, aware of Lydia’s moans as she continued suckling the length of Kruin’s cock, her body arching and shifting elegantly with every movement. Gabriel reached beneath her writhing body and found the tight knot of her pleasure, like a slippery pearl between his fingers. He murmured his consent, barely able to retain his own self-control when Lydia’s body trembled with a suffusion of heat, her inner walls convulsing around his aching shaft.
He plunged into her, sweat breaking out on his forehead, moving his hands to her waist so he could sink into her again and again, relishing the slap of her bottom against his stomach. Even while still riding the wave of her orgasm, Lydia drew Kruin’s cock into her mouth, her hand massaging the thick shaft as Kruin growled deep in his throat and spurted copious jets of semen.
Lydia gasped in reaction, but didn’t cease her sensual ministrations. Only when she had licked Kruin’s erection clean did she look over her shoulder at Gabriel, her eyes filled with lust.
He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to thrust into her again and again, to feel the sinuous movements of her body against his, to savor the tightness of her core and the heat of her skin. But the carnal urgency and need for release boiled through him with sudden fervor. He pulled out of her and grasped his cock, surrendering with a hoarse shout as an orgasm ripped through his body and spattered Lydia’s round, red bottom with creamy seed.
She groaned, new vibrations shuddering through her as she leaned her head against Kruin’s thigh and closed her eyes.
Gabriel came slowly to his senses, not wishing to leave the obliterating pleasure of Lydia’s body. He rubbed his hand down her smooth, damp back in a soothing motion, waiting for her to settle.
As he reached for his discarded trousers, he met Kruin’s gaze over Lydia’s supine form. Even now, Gabriel was still unable to read the other man’s expression. He zipped up his trousers and bent to lift Lydia into his arms.
Her body was limp and hot, her succulent curves yielding to the pressure of his hands. She tucked herself against his chest with a murmur of contentment.
Without casting Kruin another glance, Gabriel left the room and carried Lydia back upstairs. He helped her shower and pulled down the sheet on her bed, aware of her watching him with new wariness. She climbed into bed.
“Gabriel—”
“I promise, Lydia.” He bent to kiss her forehead. “Everything will be all right.”
He could only hope he was telling her the truth.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
GABRIEL CAME TO her room just past midnight. Lydia had slept a few hours after that interlude in the solarium, but she was so attuned to his presence that the soft sound of his footsteps across the carpet woke her from her slumber. She pushed her hair away from her forehead and peered at him, her heart clenching.
She knew they had to leave right away.
“Is he asleep?” she whispered, hastily struggling into a cotton dress and flats.
“For now.” Gabriel tossed a few clothes into her valise and gestured to the door. “I didn’t want to risk leaving while he w
as still awake.”
“I’m surprised Preston hasn’t come to get me yet. Surely he knows I’m here.”
“Preston likes the element of surprise,” Gabriel said. He snapped the valise closed and strode to the door. “Chasing you down isn’t quite his style.”
He was right. Preston’s style had a far darker edge. Lydia grabbed her bag and followed him downstairs through the darkened mansion and out to where a sleek gray BMW rested at the foot of the steps.
Gabriel ushered her inside, tossed the valise into the backseat, and climbed behind the wheel. The ultra-luxurious car was so smooth and silent that they pulled away from the house with only the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. Lydia’s heart knocked against her ribs as Gabriel sped down the driveway and onto the street. She turned to look back at the house, but no lights came on to signal that Kruin had heard their departure.
“Where are we going?” Lydia asked as they drove.
“The home of a friend. He’s not there this week, and I don’t want to risk staying at my cottage. No one knows about this place, especially not Preston. We’ll stay there just long enough for me to exchange the car and make a few more arrangements.”
“My father will be looking for me again too. As soon as he returns from his trip and finds out that I’m gone, he’ll go back to the plantation.”
“And Kruin will tell him that you were there, but that he doesn’t know where you’ve gone. That will be the truth.” He reached across the console and squeezed her knee. “It’s all right, Lydia. You’ll be safe.”
Though Lydia welcomed his reassuring words with her whole being, she could not prevent the cold tendril of unease snaking into her heart. Kruin was loyal to Preston because he owed him his life. And with three men looking for her now, what chance did she and Gabriel have? Where was there left to hide? Even if they did manage to hide for a short time, where could they go? Though the charges against her had been dropped, Gabriel was still a fugitive, and Lydia knew Preston wouldn’t hesitate to turn him over to the authorities if that was what it took to drag her back under his control.
A shudder coursed through her. In the darkest place in her heart, she still had the sense that she would be bound to Preston Severine forever. With no way out.
Gabriel’s friend’s home was situated in an old building above a French Quarter street, and it had hardwood floors, exposed brick walls, and a lovely wrought-iron balcony overflowing with plants. Like Preston’s hovel, the apartment overlooked a street lined with restaurants and bars, but the very air itself was different, filling Lydia with pleasure rather than fear or shame. There was a small kitchen, which they stocked with groceries picked up on the trip in from the plantation.
For the next two days, Gabriel came and went, instructing Lydia to stay in the apartment and not leave. When he was there, he spent his time on the computer or telephone. Their hours became oddly domestic, with Lydia taking care of the apartment and serving meals while Gabriel worked.
And yet Lydia constantly wrestled with the realization that she was putting him at even further risk, that because of her, he’d been forced to leave the safety of the plantation, that both Preston and Kruin would be looking for him now as well as her. They would never let Gabriel get away with leaving—not when he knew so much about their own transgressions.
Not when he knew all the secrets of La Nouvelle Vie.
Lydia kept an eye on the local news, catching occasional mentions of her father and his campaign issues, but there was never a mention of her or the fact that she was missing again. Instead everyone was indulging in the Carnival festivities, the parades and balls sweeping over the city before the culmination on Fat Tuesday four days hence. Lydia hoped she and Gabriel would be far from the city by then.
The following morning dawned warm and humid. Gabriel was gone when Lydia woke and dressed in a white cotton sundress with a full, flowing skirt. She made herself a cup of coffee and cut a slice of king’s cake from the wreath Gabriel had bought for her the previous night, knowing her love of the sweet almond pastry.
She picked apart the slice with her fingers, popping the buttery layers into her mouth. When only a crust of the cake remained, she found the coveted plastic baby doll that was hidden in all king’s cakes during Carnival season.
Lydia smiled, needing to believe with her whole heart that it was a harbinger of good luck. She tucked the doll away in her purse, then spent most of the morning on the balcony, watching the people crowding the street below in anticipation of one of the parades.
Though none of the large parade krewes and floats would go through the narrow French Quarter streets, as the day progressed more and more people bustled below, many clad in colorful costumes and masks. Music rose and clashed. Dusk began to fall, bringing with it the edge of night and a distinctly libidinous atmosphere. A pulse of heat swept over the crowd. A small parade turned the corner, floats decorated with streamers, the riders tossing throws to the people lining the sidewalk.
After getting a snack from the kitchen, Lydia stepped back onto the balcony with a bowl of chocolate-covered cherries cupped in her hands. She ate one of the juicy treats, then put the bowl on a low table and went to lean on the balcony.
Exhilaration bubbled through her. Raucous noise and music filled the air. She had always loved Carnival, and had spent many hours as a child watching the parades and picnicking with her family. When she was a teenager, she’d sneak out of her parents’ house at night to seek out the more daring and adult-oriented festivities.
Electricity seemed to crackle through the night as the revelries continued. Voices, music and laughter rose in an unending wave of noise. Men and women walked, lurched, and staggered along the sidewalks, swigging from plastic cups and beer bottles. The floats moved past the balcony, and one of the male riders looked up to where Lydia stood on the balcony. She smiled and waved, and was rewarded by a tossed string of beads.
She caught it in one hand and slipped it over her neck, blowing a kiss to the rider.
He smiled in return, tipping his green-gold-and-purple hat to her as the float continued on its way.
“I hope he doesn’t expect that back,” Gabriel murmured behind her.
Lydia turned to face him, warmth flooding her at the mere sight of his handsome features and ruffled black hair. He was leaning against the doorjamb, his shirt unfastened a few buttons in deference to the heat, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers.
“I wouldn’t give it back, in any case,” Lydia said.
Gabriel reached out to take the necklace in his hand, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over the shiny beads. “Do you have many of these?”
“I used to. My mother found a box of them in my closet years ago and threw them all away.” Lydia shrugged. “I suppose none of that matters anymore, though.”
Gabriel tugged gently on the necklace, drawing her closer to him. He bent his head and brushed his lips against hers, a light pressure that sparked a lovely heat. Lydia sighed against his mouth, her senses still awash in the noise and music crashing from the street below, her heart pounding at Gabriel’s closeness. He smelled delicious, like something warm and spicy, a faint scrape of whiskers on his lean jaw.
He lifted his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he moved to the balcony railing to look down at the surging crowd. Lydia watched with a trace of fascination as he lifted the bottle and tilted his head back for a drink. The strong, tanned column of his throat worked with a swallow, the muscles rippling. He lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, his gaze meeting hers again.
Energy crackled through the air. Lydia’s pulse fluttered, her skin warming from the inside out. She couldn’t move when Gabriel put the bottle on the low table and picked up one of the chocolate-covered cherries. He came toward her and lifted the fruit to her mouth.
Lydia parted her lips obediently and let him slip the cherry into her mouth. The delicious flavors of chocolate and sweet fruit spread across her tongue. Gabriel picked up another
cherry, giving her a smile before he put the delicacy between his own lips. Lydia’s heart raced. The air grew thick. Summoning her boldness, Lydia stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his, sucking the cherry from his mouth into hers.
He watched her, his eyes the color of leaves, his body heat filling the space between them. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to take her. Whatever command he issued or dictate he imposed, Lydia knew she would obey with the willingness of her entire being. Anything to please him.
Anything to love him.
He curved his hand around her back to her behind, covered loosely by the folds of her chiffon dress. With that one touch, the brief dynamic of her as the instigator shifted, tipping the balance of power toward him once again.
And she wanted it that way. The clarity struck her with the resonant beauty of a bell. She liked being beholden to him, liked following his orders and knowing what was expected of her. Though she still didn’t understand how she could like it when she hated the same dynamic with Preston and, in a different way, with her parents, she knew she would happily submit to whatever Gabriel asked of her. No matter what it was.
“I’m ready,” she whispered.
His lips brushed her cheek. “I know you are.”
He stroked his hand over the cushions of her buttocks and into the soft crevice between her thighs. Lydia quivered and blushed at the touch of his fingers, knowing he could feel the evidence of her growing arousal. Though she still bore the evidence of Preston’s punishment, the welts had healed and caused no more pain.
Gabriel urged her closer, their lower bodies coming together. Lydia’s head filled with the scent and taste of him as he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was deeper this time, more intense, as his fingers curled into the flesh of her bottom and pressed her even closer.
Lydia wanted to melt into him, into the taste of cherries, chocolate, and Gabriel. Everything she’d done, every choice she had made in her entire life, had led her to this moment of standing on a balcony with him while Carnival music and revelries crashed around them.
