Educating Aphrodite

by Kimberly Killion

  She lost track of the world, lost count of his thrusts. He inflamed her, made her feel treasured, yet in some distant part of her mind, she knew this was wrong. Knowing her husband sought his pleasure with another pushed those feelings of guilt away from her heart and her mind.

  “Vincent,” she whispered, testing his name on her lips. She liked it, and said it again and again.

  He pulled her off the bed without breaking the connection between their bodies and cupped her bottom with rigid fingers, spreading her cheeks and lips apart. “Hold on.”

  She curled her legs around his waist and clung to his wet neck as he slammed her full weight atop his cock. He groaned, shook, seemingly crazed, and impaled her over and over. The speed at which he performed created a friction like none she’d ever known. She would surely combust.

  “Come with me.”

  Again? She thought it impossible for her to experience another climax until he held her with one hand and popped the beads out of her anus. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her inner walls tightened, flexed, clenched, released. She held her breath as another mind-numbing orgasm overtook her being.

  Her release initiated his.

  “Oh Christ!” He gripped her hips, fingertips digging into soft skin, and slammed her against him a final time. His roar feral, his stance unwavering, he pumped his hot seed against the wall of her womb.

  They fell atop the mattress in a wet bundle of locked limbs. Chest heaving, he held her atop him and kissed her with a passion that made her heart ache. She lay with him as one, his member still inside her, and savored the aftermath. The silence. The musky aroma of sated sex. The tender tingling of her satisfied body.

  He brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed her throat where her pulse still beat strong and wild. His hands glided over her ribs and massaged her backside, then as sly as a thief in the night, he slipped the gold balls back in her rectum.

  “Alexandra.” His cock stirred to life inside her.

  Her head popped off his chest, eyes wide in disbelief.

  A black brow hitched up his forehead. “What’s next?”

  Chapter Five

  “Ten minutes to curtain!”

  Freshly waxed with the gold balls in place, Alexandra stood before a mirror in a chaotic dressing room. Pale-blonde curls cascaded over bare shoulders dusted with shimmering powder. Light rouge accented her cheekbones below her white mask and pink glossed her lips.

  I must be completely mad.

  The knot in her throat was the only thing keeping her from vomiting. “I cannot do this.”

  Daphne brushed color around Alexandra’s breasts to emphasize their fullness and added a beauty mark to match the one above her lip. “You want your husband back?”

  Alexandra nodded. The night she’d spent with Vincent had been magical, and one she would hold dear in her memory forever, but she couldn’t have them both. “Warwick is my husband, and I’ve loved him since I was eighteen years old.”

  The words came easy and pricked her heart like a sharp needle. Part of her wished she didn’t love him. If that were the case, she would divorce him and follow Vincent to the ends of the earth. The latter wasn’t even a possibility. She could never leave her son.

  “He loves you too.” Daphne’s smile shone in her dark eyes behind her lavender mask. “You must remind him of as much, and all will be right, m’lady.”

  Alexandra drew a shaky breath and nodded again.

  Daphne snatched Alexandra’s white silk sash off the dressing table and held it beneath her dark eyes. “Become the temptress and win back your husband’s affection.”

  Let nothing prevent you from achieving your goal, she chanted Delacroix’s words and felt inspired by them.

  “Five minutes!”

  The dancers rushed to the stage and peeked through the slits in the curtain. Alexandra followed, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sebastian, but the sight that greeted her pushed the anxiety back into her throat. The aisles overflowed with men—and even some women—all masked to hide their identity. She might have judged them, but she had too many secret desires of her own to play the hypocrite.

  Flashes of skin and untamed kisses sprung forth in her mind’s eye—reminders of the dreams she’d had over the past few days. Lips and tongues and entwined limbs, but not just Sebastian and Vincent. Daphne had found a place in Alexandra’s fantasies as well.

  “That one. Fifth row. Blue mask.” Gemma pointed. “Katrina saw him unmasked in his carriage. Said he was the Marquess of Radcliffe. I’m claiming him.”

  “Percy Livingston?” Alexandra knew the name. The boy couldn’t be more than fifteen years of age.

  “I want that one.” Lydia spoke her claim and pointed. “Gold mask, talking to Delacroix.”

  “You cannot have him,” Katrina replied to Lydia, but her eyes were on Alexandra. “He is Adonis.”

  As Delacroix would soon reveal, Adonis was one of Aphrodite’s many lovers. But here, in this time and place, the subject in question was Alexandra’s husband.

  She craned her neck and found Sebastian. Standing inches taller than Delacroix, he wore stylish layers; black tailcoat, crisp white shirt, gold damask vest with matching cravat. He was broad of shoulder, distinguished and completely unaware of what she’d planned for him after the finale.

  When Delacroix left Sebastian’s company, his attention shifted to the curtain.

  Alexandra ducked out of sight, forgetting she wore a mask.

  “I can have him if he chooses me.” Lydia’s comment spiked Alexandra’s temper. She strangled the silk in her hands and opened her mouth to lay a claim of her own, but Daphne dragged her away from the others.

  “He will choose you,” Daphne assured her as Delacroix entered backstage sporting a crimson vest and blood-red mask.

  “Ladies, where are your silks? I’m giving the monologue in one minute.” Full of pomp and grandeur, he had the air of a noble and a swagger that heated Alexandra’s blood. He set his hand at the small of her back, leaned down and kissed the corner of her jaw without regard for onlookers. “You look stunning, sweetling. Are you ready?”

  “I am.” Her gaze dropped to the front of his trousers. “Are you?”

  “I will be.” He winked at her and as foolish as it was, her heart fluttered. “Find me during the dance. I’ll be wounded if you give all your attention to him.” He smacked her rump, reminding her she wore his gift, then pulled away from her.

  “Vincent.” She caught his arm. “I want you to leave London for a while after tonight. I worry about what Warwick will do after I reveal my identity to him.”

  “He’ll come after me,” Delacroix answered without fear.

  “I’ll never forgive myself if he kills you.”

  The fool grinned. “You are worth dying for.” He kissed her soundly, then disappeared through the slit in the curtain.

  The single beat of a drum silenced the audience. A shimmering crescendo of cymbals led up to the tick, tick, tick of the metronome.

  “Gentlemen, ladies, honored guests.” Delacroix held a dramatic pause, then shouted, “Welcome to Mount Olympus!”

  A roar shook the floor beneath Alexandra’s slippered feet.

  “I am Ares, the god of war. My lust for blood is my curse, but my desire to know the touch of one woman has become my obsession. You know her as Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty and sexual rapture. She has but one divine duty; to make love and inspire others to do the same. She is loved by many, but none more than the mortal, Adonis.”

  Alexandra held her position behind the curtain, but pinched her eyes tight to hold her emotions at bay.

  “I have no fear of this man. I am a god and invisible to his mortal eyes. But I must rely on him, for I know not the image of my new obsession. I will follow Adonis to the temple at the summit of Acrocorinth where ’tis said Aphrodite has retreated with her priestesses to learn the art of seduction.”

  Alexandra shared a secret smile with Daphne and suddenly felt in control of
her senses.

  “If you choose to follow us, I bid you fair warning. You will never witness a spectacle more alluring than the one I shall give you tonight.” The cymbals began their climb. “Prepare to be enraptured, titillated and aroused. Cast aside your blushes and embrace the beauty of desire. For your pleasure, I give you Aphrodite.”

  The curtains rose. The music erupted. And the dance began. Colored lights, wisps of flowing silk, the unyielding attention of her husband and her lover emboldened her, set her free to seize her passion for life, for love, for them.

  Lungs burning, feet twirling, Alexandra never missed a single step as she followed the music to a high crescendo in the third act. Then the performance ended on a final heart-jerking beat.

  Roars lifted the ceiling. A standing ovation followed. Chest heaving, Alexandra knelt in position at center stage and gathered her breath through the long stretch of applause. Pride burned like an August sun behind her breast. She was not one to boast, but she’d danced as if she’d choreographed the steps herself.

  “Bravo!”

  She raised her lashes and found Vincent at the base of the stage left steps. She returned his approving smile with one of her own and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  He nodded once, then his gaze moved across the stage.

  Her smile fell when she saw Sebastian climbing the stage right steps. The glowing heat inside her shifted to icy anxiety. The audience returned to their seats to await the finale. Music struck up again, seeming to possess a soul of its own.

  Alexandra trembled to the marrow in her bones as Sebastian circled each woman—searching for Aphrodite.

  I am here, she cried silently, but remained stone-still, staring at the wood grain in the planked floor.

  Then polished black boots paused in front of her. A strong hand lifted her chin and brought her to her feet. Sebastian’s blue eyes were not dull and distant as they’d been during these cold months of separation. Instead, they sparkled like white-hot diamonds.

  He blinked, breaking the spell, then touched her mouth with the tips of two fingers.

  Her pulse raced, her heart whispered, Choose me.

  When he cradled her head and gently pressed his warm lips to hers, that glowing sun returned to her chest and exploded. She didn’t care if it was part of the act. She didn’t even care that he thought her another. She had the confidence and the desire to pleasure him like no other woman had before her. And when he discovered the identity of the woman he’d chosen, he would want no other in his bed beside his wife.

  Daphne led the others offstage as Vincent stepped to Alexandra’s side. Mimicking Sebastian, Vincent cradled her head and kissed her as well. His kiss, however, was not as gentle and left her tingling with anticipation.

  They held her hands, took a step to the side, and presented her to the audience. Another round of cheers thundered throughout the theatre and lengthened Alexandra’s spine.

  When the applause subsided, Sebastian and Vincent walked a half circle ‘round her, turning her away from the audience. They mirrored one another’s actions. Each pulled the laces of her corset through the eyelets until it fell away from her body. In unison, they released the bows at her hips. Her skirt pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the gold chain around her waist.

  The theatre went black.

  Silence hung for short seconds before a bow skirled across a string instrument, carrying a note from silent to ear-piercing. The drums began anew, beating wild this time, unrestrained, violent. The hair at Alexandra’s nape prickled as she stood naked in the darkness. A cool breeze blew across her sweat-slick skin, tightening her nipples. She reached out in search of Sebastian or Vincent, but neither was near.

  Light ignited in front of her, startling her, blinding her for the briefest of moments. A white silk curtain now circled the stage, providing a mockery of privacy. Their every movement would be silhouetted by the bright gas lights beaming at the back of the stage. Before her sat a large square mattress atop a dais raised three steps above the stage.

  Two sets of strong arms lifted her atop the platform. A moment of trepidation widened her eyes behind her mask. Was this really going to happen?

  Sebastian appeared at her side—gloriously naked, save for his gold mask. Fingertips brushed her opposite arm. She turned and found Vincent in the same state of undress. Both looked like the hewn-cut sculptures of the Greek gods they portrayed, and both presented her with a straining erection, slightly curved, thick-veined, heads shining with pre-come.

  Fire coiled low in her belly. This was really going to happen. Here, now, and with witnesses. She accepted the reality of it with enthusiasm as juices flooded her cunt in preparation and wetted the inside of her thighs. Her mouth watered. Her palms itched. Eager, she didn’t wait for their instruction. Instead, she reached out and wrapped her greedy fingers around their cocks.

  “Oh bloody fuck!” Sebastian flinched.

  Vincent grinned.

  And the crowd gasped behind them.

  “I’m just a mortal, love.” Sebastian pried her fingers off his cock. “You must be gentle. I’ve saved myself for this, unlike others I suspect.” The glare he tossed at Vincent set off an alarm in her head.

  He couldn’t possibly know she’d been with Vincent. Could he?

  “I gratified myself before the performance. You should have done the same.” Vincent’s reply provided her some semblance of relief, but guilt surfaced. It sat heavy on her conscience as they guided her arms above her head.

  “You’re going to want to hold on, sweetling,” Vincent suggested with a wink and hooked her fingers over a trapeze bar hanging from the ceiling.

  They worked simultaneously, each kissing his way down either side of her body. They were so in sync with one another’s actions, Alexandra wondered if they’d rehearsed the act, then they sucked her breasts into their mouths, and she didn’t wonder anything at all. All thoughts fled her mind, freeing her to enjoy their attention.

  Sebastian drew her nipple between his teeth, softly at first, but his mouth quickly became as fierce as Vincent’s. Her hold on the bar tightened as four hands caressed her skin, eight fingers sought all those places that made her whimper and moan—her back, her navel, the sensitive flesh just above her hairless sex.

  Her legs spread wider. She pinched her eyes tight behind the mask and panted, waiting impatiently for one of them to ease the burning between her thighs. Sebastian answered her silent plea when he plunged his index finger deep inside her and located that spot that liquefied her bones.

  She nearly buckled at the knees. She wanted to cry out, but feared Sebastian would recognize her voice, so she laid her head against Vincent’s shoulder and filled her mouth with his tongue.

  Sebastian played with that ball of flesh inside her. He stroked it side to side, circled it, then applied pressure to it until her tiny muscles sucked at his fingers in response.

  She felt her climax rise. Her insides clenched. She was going to come.

  “Not yet, love.” He withdrew his finger, leaving her frustrated. “I want to taste you when you spill.”

  As Sebastian sat on the mattress between her legs, Vincent pulled her arms off the bar and wrapped one around his thick, corded neck. Shifting her hair to the side, he leaned into her ear. “Tell him what you want. Use the words I taught you.”

  Alexandra set her foot atop her husband’s shoulder and wove her fingers into his golden hair, pulling him closer to that painful ache inside her. “Lick my cunt,” she demanded in a voice she didn’t recognize.

  Sebastian swiped his tongue between her slick, smooth nether lips, sending her up on her toes.

  A hiss of whispers seeped through the thin curtain.

  This went beyond anything she’d fantasized about. The music, the audience, the musky smell of her arousal. Having her lover at her back stimulating her breasts while her husband pleasured her with his tongue was nearly more than she could bear.

  She thrust her pelvis against Sebastian�
�s mouth and held tight to Vincent for support, but the rake seemed to know right when she was at the edge. He popped the gold balls out of her anus one at a time while Sebastian latched onto her throbbing clit and sucked.

  The blood rushed so quickly through her head she felt faint.

  The music hit a zenith and so did she. Her orgasm ripped through her like wildfire, spreading scalding flames to every nerve ending in her body.

  Sebastian drank down her climax, then caught her by the hips when she collapsed. Her eyes rolled beneath her lids, her arms wrapped around his neck, seeking leverage, but he gave her no time to recover before he plunged his cock into her quivering sheath.

  She screamed.

  He growled and lifted her nearly off him only to impale her again and again. When she was certain she would incinerate from the friction, he wove his fingers through her hair and brought her down hard against his lips. As he ravaged her mouth, she felt the oiled head of Vincent’s cock press against her puckered hole.

  She flinched and attempted to turn around, but Sebastian lay flat on his back atop the mattress and dragged her down with him. “Relax.”

  There was that word, again. Only this time she welcomed the prospect. She pressed her breasts against Sebastian’s chest and hooked her arms under his shoulders as he spread her cheeks for her lover. There was something wildly erotic about their pose, something carnal, something she wanted to remember forever.

  “Are you ready?” Sebastian asked in a soothing tone, but Vincent didn’t wait for her response. He pushed the head of his cock past the tight circle of muscles with a harsh roar.

  Her mouth opened, but her cry caught in her throat. Her fingernails dug into flesh. She sucked in air, hoping to feed her lungs the oxygen they needed to prevent her from fainting. They remained still for a moment while she adjusted to the fullness invading her body. Never had she experienced such pain, such pleasure.

  Sebastian found her face beneath her hair. “Are you still alive, love?” His voice was ragged, yet concerned.