by Harlem,Lily
Stepping into the warmth of the kitchen, the scents of their beef dinner made her stomach rumble. It had been a busy day preparing to host a gathering of their fellow club members, plus with all the animals and then a bit of fun over the table. She was not only hungry but a little tired too.
“Here,” Ivor said, handing her a flute of sparkling wine. “Sip this as you get changed.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and ran his hand over her tender arse. “And make sure you don’t apply too much makeup.”
“Yes, Sir.” That was an unusual request. He usually approved of her wearing lots of sultry kohl around her eyes and vampish scarlet lipstick.
Their bedroom was low ceilinged with thick beams, befitting for the farmhouse, and had flowery wallpaper and a duvet cover. She loved it very much and had ordered the bespoke pine dressing table with great care from a local carpenter.
That wasn’t to say she didn’t enjoy the room next door with its black velvet wallpaper, plush carpet, leather spanking bench, and other implements that helped them create scenes. But this room where they slept was more restful, whereas next door was all about pain and pleasure.
The tiny bubbles in her drink popped on her tongue as she took a big sip. Laid out on the bed was the new white cotton skirt. Ivor had teamed it with a small silky white vest top and set a single string of pale pink beads on the top of it.
Definitely different.
No PVC or skin-tight Lycra in sight.
After setting the drink aside, she picked up the skirt. It was light and pretty, not kinkster at all. More the sort of thing a girl walking hand in hand with a lover on the beach would wear.
Is this a new interest of his?
Was the sexy, bound sub no longer capturing his attention? Did the thought of a pretty young virgin get him hard?
Well, virgin she was not, in any shape or form. But that wasn’t to say she couldn’t play the role if he wanted her to.
She stripped off the clothes she’d worn all day, then showered. Her soap was lemon scented and her shampoo smelt of coconut.
After she’d dried she used body lotion that made her skin silky smooth, being careful to apply plenty to her sore arse. Then, as instructed, she put on the outfit Ivor had left for her.
There was no denying its lightness felt nice, and once she’d brushed her hair and applied the barest hint of makeup, she did have a certain youthfulness to her look. Well, she was only thirty-two, which meant she wasn’t that old.
“Melody, are you done yet?” Ivor called up the stairs.
“Yes, just coming.”
“Good, can you prepare the playroom, it will likely get used.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Quickly she did as instructed, a tremble of excitement rushing through her. When they’d had Tia and Kyle visit a few months ago, things had really heated up in the playroom. Both she and Tia had been spanked and flogged by each man before performing oral sex on their partners as a show for the other couple to watch. By the end of it everyone seemed to be coming on everyone, skin was marked, and their cries of delight mingled. Melody hadn’t been able to decide if she’d enjoyed being watched or watching the most. Both had been hot and she hoped that Kyle and Tia would be up for some kinky fun in this room later on.
As she came down the staircase, the doorbell chimed.
Ivor stepped from the kitchen, checked his black shirt was smooth and his belt buckle straight, then smiled at her. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you.”
“You should wear white more often.”
“Do you like it?”
“A lot; it makes you look the way you did on our wedding night.”
Melody giggled. “That was a long time ago.”
“Which is why it’s nice to be reminded.” He set a firm kiss over her lips. “Come on, we should let our guests in.”
Melody nodded, then admired his arse, now encased in smart black trousers, as he opened the front door.
A bustle of activity ensued as Kyle and Tia came into the hallway, the flowery scents of the outside swirling in with them.
Melody took their coats and hung them on the stand next to the grandfather clock, and allowed her cheek to be kissed. She graciously accepted the nice bottle of port Kyle handed her and complimented Tia on the skin-tight red dress she wore with a silver zip up the front.
“And this is Rupert and Lottie Madison,” Kyle said, stretching out his hand to let the new couple greet Melody. “They moved to the village of Deacon six months ago and have been searching for a group like ours ever since.”
“Very pleased to meet you,” Melody said, holding out her hand to Rupert.
He took it and kissed her knuckles. His hold was firm and his gaze was stuck on hers.
It didn’t unnerve her; it was the way of doms and he most certainly oozed dominance. He was tall with slick black hair, clean-shaven, and had a slightly over large nose, which he carried off well as it complimented his other strong features and broad jawline. He was dressed entirely in black and, like Ivor’s, the silver buckle on his belt had the symbol of the club—a double infinity knot—embossed on to it.
“Not as charmed as I am to meet you,” Rupert said.
His eyes flashed and a tug of desire went through Melody. Rupert was a sexy man, there was no question about that. And the fact he was here meant he was also kinky as fuck. If she was lucky she’d get to find out just how kinky and if she played her cards right, perhaps Sir would allow Rupert to play with her a little.
But not a lot. Ivor never allowed other doms to fuck her. He was the only one who did that. It was the way they operated. It was the way they kept sex between them special—fucking was sacred.
But other stuff…
Rupert released her hand and slipped his arm around his sub, Lottie. She was petite and younger than him, perhaps early twenties. She wore a slip of a dress that was white and had tiny yellow daisies on it, yet around her neck was a thick black collar with a padlock hanging down.
“This is Lottie,” Rupert said. “She’s been very excited about tonight.” He squeezed her tighter. “A bit too excited; she had to be punished earlier.”
A little rise of colour grew on Lottie’s cheeks.
“I hope you have a lovely time with us at Buttercup Farm,” Melody said with a smile. “We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Thank you,” Lottie said. “And can I just say what an amazing place you have. So grand and so deliciously isolated.”
Melody nodded. “The isolation is why we bought it. No neighbours makes it much easier to live this lifestyle.”
“I couldn’t agree more. It’s one of the reasons we moved out of the city. Our new place in Deacon is a huge improvement on what we had in Chelsea. Now, as long as the windows are shut, we can make as much racket as we want to.”
“And what a difference that makes,” Rupert said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Especially when you’ve been a bad girl.”
Lottie jumped a little and inhaled.
Melody couldn’t see but she guessed Rupert had nipped her arse, which, knowing she’d been punished earlier, was no doubt still smarting.
Ivor moved past, port in hand, and nodded to the kitchen. “I’ll get drinks organised if you could show our guests into the dining room, Melody.”
“Yes, Sir.” She nodded. “This way, please.”
Kyle and Tia led the way. Rupert and Lottie followed. The candles were lit though the curtains were still open so the flickering flames were reflected in the large window. A low hum of conversation started.
“I love your outfit,” Tia said quietly to Melody.
“A bit different,” Melody said, smoothing her hand over the crisp white cotton.
“Virginal, is that a new kink?”
“If it is, he hasn’t told me, but I’m beginning to wonder.”
At that moment Ivor came into the room carrying two bottles of wine. He set about filling everyone’s glasses and a discussion about the age of th
e merlot started. It seemed Lottie was quite the wine expert.
“What do you think of Lottie?” Tia asked out of the corner of her mouth.
“Well…” Melody hesitated for a moment. “If it wasn’t for the collar, I’d never guess she was into the lifestyle.”
“What do you mean?” Tia frowned. “It’s impossible to tell who is and who isn’t. We’ve always said that.”
“I know, but…” She glanced at Lottie. She was smiling, small dimples dented her cheeks and her lips held only the tiniest hint of a sheen. “She actually looks quite… virginal.”
Fuck. What had she just said? Virginal. There was a new sub in their house who had the exact look Ivor was kinking on.
She glanced at her husband. He was pouring Lottie’s wine and studying her.
Melody shifted on her chair. She knew that jealousy sometimes stabbed her, sharp little dagger-jabs, and she wanted to control it. Really she did.
It was hard though, when Lottie sat there all pretty and sweet.
“You know I was a virgin on our wedding night,” Melody said quietly.
“Yes,” Tia said, “you told me that once before. I remembered.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” Tia leaned in closer. “Because I’m envious, to tell you the truth. I would love it if Kyle had been my first.”
“Well, as you know, it’s not like I haven’t done club stuff with other doms, but, yes, Ivor is the only man to ever fuck me.”
“And do you remember your first time with him?”
“Of course, it was amazing.” She reached for her wine. “Though perfectly vanilla. Back then we hadn’t even heard of BDSM.”
“Which is why…” Ivor said, appearing behind her and pressing his hands on Melody’s shoulders. “It’s easy to stay excited by each other.”
“What do you mean?” Rupert asked, joining in the conversation.
“Well,” Ivor said. “When you’re with one person for years it’s easy to see how vanilla sex would get dull. Missionary, under the duvet, for the rest of your life. Who wants that?” He pressed a kiss to the top of Melody’s head.
Melody’s bubble of jealousy evaporated, just like that. A simple kiss, just letting her know she was his and he was hers no matter what else happened.
“Yes,” Kyle agreed. “A bit like being told that you can only eat tofu till the end of your days.”
“Yuk,” Melody said with a giggle. “I hate tofu.”
“Me too,” Kyle said. “Revolting stuff.”
Ivor stepped away.
“Shall I help, Sir?” Melody asked.
“Yes, please.”
He disappeared toward the kitchen and Melody followed.
She reached the salad from the fridge and set it on the side.
Ivor turned the hob on to heat the potatoes.
“What else shall I do,” she asked, glancing at the counters. The beef was cooked and ready to serve.
Ivor turned and studied her.
“I heard you talking to Tia about being a virgin.”
“Yes.” She hesitated. “But that was a long time ago.”
“And I took your virginity.”
“Yes, Sir, you know you did.” Where was he going with this?
He smiled, a lopsided sexy smile that told her he was delving into his memories. “It may have been vanilla but our wedding night was hot.”
“Yes. But it’s always hot with you. You’re my one and only, my lover, my best friend, and my master.”
“That’s good to hear.” He stepped up close and placed his hands on her shoulders.
Applying gentle pressure, he backed her up against the wall.
“Do you remember,” he said, his lips a whisper from hers, “the sexual tension that had grown between us, the frustration, the build-up of desire, as we’d waited for that night?”
“Yes.” She looked up into his dark eyes and saw the familiar heat of his passion lurking there. “I do.”
“We were crazy for each other but we resisted. No matter the temptation, we’d decided to wait and we did.”
“We were unusual; most of our friends had succumbed and rolled into bed.”
“I guess, for the other guys, their fathers-in-law hadn’t put the fear of God into them by showing them a fully stocked gun cupboard and saying that he’d go to jail for his daughter’s virtue.” Ivor chuckled and stroked her cheek. “But you know that story.”
“Yes. He was cruel to you on that first date.”
“Cruel maybe, but also effective.” He brushed his lips with hers. “And it was worth the wait.”
“I thought so.” She hesitated. “I want you now.”
“Oh, that’s a bit forward, sub, don’t you think?” He raised his eyebrows.
“I can’t help it. I do.” Her nipples were tight, and a pulse beat between her legs.
Sliding his hand down her throat, to her chest, he didn’t take his gaze from hers. “Would you like to be my virgin again?”
“Yes, Sir. Very much, Sir.” Of course it would be thrilling. But it was equally impossible.
“Then you can be.” Through her top he tugged at her nipple. Not gently, quite rough, the way she liked it.
Melody held in a moan and locked her knees. “Sir.”
“Those months of frustration,” he said, “waiting for our wedding day, do you remember?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“The amount of times I had to give myself relief, thinking of you, always you as I worked my cock with my hand.”
“You did that?”
“Of course, how else do you think I survived?” He slid his hand lower still, over her belly and the waistband of her skirt. He gripped the material and rucked it upwards.
The air breezed against her bare thighs, and then over her pussy.
“Spread your legs,” he instructed.
Chapter Three
“Yes, Sir.” Melody spread her legs and held onto Ivor’s shoulder. What was his plan? They had four guests sitting in the next room, waiting for them. Surely he wasn’t going to…
“You were my sweet, young, naïve little virgin and touching you for the first time nearly made me come straight away,” he said, his breath hot and his voice low.
“You made me come,” she whispered. “I didn’t think I would, that first time, but I did.”
“Spectacularly.” He smiled and slipped his finger through her pussy lips and touched her clit.
“Mmm…” She groaned. It didn’t matter to her that they had guests waiting. It was Ivor’s decision; if he wanted to finger her then he could. He was in charge.
“This sweet little cunt,” he said, “all mine, only mine.”
“Yes. Oh, please…”
“Please what?”
“Make me come.” She gripped the material of his shirt and angled her pelvis toward him.
A smile tugged at his lips and he increased the pressure on her clit, setting up a fast little circular motion.
She fluttered her eyelids shut. He was so damn good at generating pressure that erupted in bliss throughout her body.
“Ah, yeah, baby, that’s it, feel the tension building, the need for release, the need for a big hard cock to make you come over and over again. Imagine you’ve never had cock in your pussy. But it’s here now, about to plunge into your virginal depths, stretching you, breaking its way into the very core of you.”
“Yes, you, just you, Sir.” She kept her eyes closed and remembered their wedding night—a luxurious hotel room in London, black carpet so deep her toes nearly disappeared into it, red silky sheets that were cool and smooth on her skin—her new husband naked, his erection thick and dark, and a look of lust and love on his face.
She recalled his touch, the first man to touch her there—his mouth on her breasts, between her legs, his cock filling her then bringing her to orgasm with the expert roll of his body in and over hers.
Panting now, she clenched her internal muscles. Soon an orgasm was going to erupt wi
thin her. While club members sat hungry and waiting for their dinner, she was going to come in the kitchen. She’d dampen her master’s hand, grind against him, try to hold in her cries of release.
He worked her harder. The tension was about to spill.
She held her breath. Her pulse thudded in her ears.
“Hold that thought,” he said, stepping away and allowing her skirt to float down to cover her pussy and thighs.
“Ivor…” she gasped, her arms flailing for him. She opened her eyes. “I was just about to… Sir… I…”
“I know.” He bit on his bottom lip. “You were just about to orgasm.”
“Yes, but…?” She was frantic and furious. What was the point in that? What was he doing?
He raised his fingers to his nose and inhaled. “I want…” he said, “for us to remember the sexual frustration we had when you were a virgin and I was waiting for us to be married before I touched you.”
“You want that again? But why?” It had been so hard.
“Yes, just for one night.” He shrugged, then walked to the sink and ran the tap. He washed his hands. “Maybe I’m just being melancholy, thinking about us when we were young and everything was new.”
“New.” Melody pushed her hands through her hair. Her brow was a little damp. Her pussy was hot, her heart rate still clattering along at a fast rate.
She thought of Lottie, all young and pretty, with no doubt a prim, taut pussy that hugged her master’s cock. Is that what Ivor wanted?
Did Ivor want Lottie?
She was aware of the colour draining from her face as she clutched the kitchen work surface to her left. Jealousy once again raged through her veins. Hot and acidic, it scorched over her skin and made her scalp tingle. “Lottie,” she managed.
“What?” Ivor wiped his hands on a cloth then threw it aside. It landed on the table.
“Lottie, you want Lottie.”
He tipped his head and studied her. “If I wanted to play with Lottie and Rupert permitted, then I would, that’s how the club works.” He paused. “But you know that.”
“It’s different, you want to…” She could hardly bring herself to say it.
