The Erotic Dark

by Nina Lane

  She gave a little yelp of pain when a female hand pressed unexpectedly against her reddened bottom and moved lower to caress the damp folds of her sex. Her skin fairly flared with heat, and she longed for a cooling salve of some sort.

  And yet in spite of the prickles scorching the tender skin of her bottom, an equally intense heat began burning between Lydia’s legs, centering on the pulsing bud of her clitoris as it grew damp with the fluids of her arousal.

  She bit her lip on a groan, unable to prevent the thrust of her hips as she started to work her body against Odette’s slender fingers, her mind swimming in the whirlpool of sensations evoked by the repeated slaps of the cane and the other woman’s fingers sliding into the tight, humid warmth of her passage.

  Poised on the brink, Lydia closed her eyes, her breath coming in rapid gasps as she struggled vainly to impale herself on Odette’s fingers. She suddenly didn’t care how she looked to the guests who were watching her with lust-filled eyes, for all she craved was the explosion of pleasure that dangled tauntingly just beyond her grasp. With a groan, she twisted her hips, silently willing Odette to rub the aching swell of her womanly pleasure.

  Odette’s hand lifted from the wet folds of her sex with a swiftness that startled Lydia. She caught her breath in surprise, trying to turn and see what was the matter.

  Preston had taken Odette’s place behind her, the compact stalk of his penis pressing against the front of his trousers. A pool of unfulfilled desire expanded in Lydia’s loins at the sight of the lewd bulge.

  “Get on your knees and turn around,” Preston ordered, clamping onto her bound wrists and forcing her upright.

  Lydia almost protested, her body throbbing from the force of the caning and from the rampant need that tightened around her sex like a vicious rope. Then she looked at Preston’s expression and struggled to her knees on the velvety carpet, wishing she could at least hold her bottom cheeks in a desperate attempt to soothe the pain.

  She knew what Preston wanted, knew it with an instinct as old as time, and she maneuvered in front of him as he worked the buttons of his trousers to release the protruding length of his phallus.

  Want sank sharp claws into Lydia’s skin at the sight of the furious shaft, the pale skin bursting with thick veins, the darkened head shiny with moisture. Her eyelids drifted closed as she sealed her full lips around the heavy knob, her heart thrumming frantically in her chest as she tasted the fluids of his emission.

  Preston’s fingers curved around her scalp as he began to pump himself in and out of the hot cavern of her mouth. Although his erection was not nearly as intimidatingly huge as Kruin’s or as impressive as Gabriel’s, he thrust into her with such energy that Lydia feared she might choke. She forced herself to slacken her lips and throat, saliva and Preston’s male liquids easing his pathway.

  The guests were all treated to the scrumptious sight of Lydia’s welt-riddled, crimson bottom protruding below her loosened corset. Her breasts had escaped the silk-and-bone confines as well, and the pert mounds, embellished with rosy crests, bounced with every thrust of Preston’s stiff member. Perspiration and exertion dampened her white skin, polishing it like rain-kissed marble.

  She leaned forward, her back arching as she struggled to take the length of Preston’s moist, hard flesh into her mouth. Her lips stretched over the shaft before he pulled himself from her and commanded in a husky voice that she suckle the sacs of his testicles.

  A little moan escaped Lydia as her pink tongue flickered out to caress the taut globes. She took the twin sacs between her lips, sucking them until Preston grasped his prick and guided it back into her mouth.

  His fingers clamped into Lydia’s hair as she worked her mouth up and down on him, murmurs escaping her mouth as she bathed his erect stalk with the heat of her tongue. Moisture flowed between her thighs, causing her to press her legs together and squirm, still craving the release that had been so abruptly denied.

  The musky, heady scent of Preston filled her nostrils like a potent aphrodisiac, and she wondered fleetingly what kind of psychological force rested behind her compliant suckling of the man who was so intent on punishing and humiliating her.

  Preston’s breathing came in quick pants as he began nearing the apex of his pleasure. Lydia sensed the expanding tension of his body and, with the continued, strange need to please him, she began increasing the stroking movements of her lips and tongue.

  The flavors of him fused with the incessant burning of her punished bottom and the restriction of her arms. The multiple sensations conspired to drive all other thoughts from Lydia’s mind, focusing her entire being on carnal desire.

  Preston pushed forward, increasing the pace of his thrusts until he gave a shout and spurted milky liquids into her mouth. Lydia pulled back slightly as his emissions slid down her throat and the hardness of his shaft began to ebb. She stroked her tongue over him before he eased away from her, his blue eyes filled with satisfaction as he looked down at her subservient, kneeling figure.

  He stroked his hand through her hair, which had become loosened from its fancy upsweep. Damp strands clung to her face and neck.

  Lydia gave him a beseeching look. Her arms and shoulders were painfully rigid from their enforced position behind her back, and she moaned with relief when Preston bent to unlash her wrists.

  Unable to stop herself, Lydia bent forward and pressed her hands onto the floor, closing her eyes as the tension in her muscles abated. She wanted to sink down onto the carpet and let the thick cotton absorb her lingering shock and pain, but then Preston stroked his hand over her bruised rump.

  “So, Lydia,” he said smoothly. “You haven’t been with a woman since Cassie, have you?”

  Lydia swallowed hard and shook her head. Apprehension flickered inside her as she realized he wasn’t finished with this erotic display.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said. “Sit up, please.”

  Wincing, Lydia rose to her knees again, embarrassment scorching her as she realized the guests were still watching her. She had become so immersed in her task that she had almost forgotten she was on full display. The men all had their erect members out of their trousers, some stroking them with unhidden excitement. The women were nearly naked, although the sight of them failed to provide Lydia with any degree of comfort.

  She looked at Odette, who moved to stand in front of her. She had a boyish figure with narrow hips and small breasts capped with pink nipples. Her sex was concealed by brown, shaggy curls that glistened with moisture.

  Lydia’s heart began to throb as she sensed what Preston had in mind.

  “Why don’t we see if you remember how to pleasure a woman as well as you pleasure me?” Preston suggested.

  Lydia released her breath on a moan as Odette stretched out before her, spreading her firm thighs to reveal the moist, pink creases of her sex. A memory of Cassie with her plump breasts and slim, athletic body appeared in Lydia’s mind. Arousal spun through her so swiftly that her hands shook as she placed them carefully upon Odette’s raised knees.

  Odette lifted her head to give Lydia a wicked smile. “Show me the talents of your pretty tongue, Lydia.”

  Wondering how much more of this she could endure, Lydia bent and pressed her lips against the other woman’s spread cleft. The musky flavor of Preston’s emissions still lingered on her tongue, mingling with the feminine honey coating Odette’s secret lips.

  The mixture of tastes caused a renewed bolt of excitement to wind through Lydia’s blood. She stroked her tongue over the intimate pleats, satisfaction rising in her at the sound of Odette’s breathy groans. Some latent knowledge of how to please a woman returned with full force, as she remembered what erotic manipulations had aroused Cassie the most thoroughly.

  She dipped her tongue into the fissure of Odette’s body, then sealed her lips around the turgid bud barely concealed by her ample folds. Lydia’s position of crouching before the other woman caused her buttocks to protrude outward, creating a highly invi
ting display of rounded flesh and private crevices. She gasped with surprise when she felt a man put his hands on her upturned cheeks and part them wider without the slightest compunction.

  Although her body had been aching for a slick, masculine insertion, Lydia balked when she failed to recognize the man’s touch. Only Preston’s harsh, “Lydia!” prevented her from withdrawing in panic.

  She curled her hands underneath Odette’s thighs, stiffening with both anticipation and alarm when the bulging knob of a penis began rubbing against her exposed folds. She groaned, lowering her mouth again as the man began to slowly push into her body.

  The delicious feeling of being filled by solid, male root from behind while licking another woman’s sex sent Lydia into a tailspin of sensations. Whimpers came from her throat as the man began a slow plundering of her inner flesh, his shaft moving with oiled ease.

  His hands clutched at her stinging bottom cheeks, eliciting a whole new wave of pain that only served to enhance Lydia’s fierce and voluptuous tension. She had never felt so wanton, so immodestly exposed and penetrated.

  Although her body throbbed with the increasing need for release, Lydia forced herself to concentrate on bestowing pleasure. She continued licking and sucking Odette, her fingers digging into the woman’s firm thighs as she felt her begin to tense with urgency.

  Odette writhed lusciously underneath the delectation of Lydia’s tongue. Her foamy fluids painted Lydia’s lips with moisture, her legs rising into the air as she let out a loud shriek and her body shook with intense vibrations.

  At the sound of Odette’s vocal climax, the man started pumping into Lydia with increasing force, each thrust accompanied by a husky bellow. Lydia moaned and clutched at Odette to try and retain her position, wishing the man would see fit to rub the throbbing bud of her feminine center. His member slapped wetly against her flesh before he succumbed to his own orgasm with a growl of rapture.

  Both the man and Odette didn’t move for a long moment, leaving Lydia in her crouched position with her body still desperately craving release. She conceived in the depths of her kaleidoscope of sensations that she had retained control over her own pleasure, a realization that evoked a surge of pride.

  Lydia straightened, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, and turned to look at the man who had pleasured himself with her. He was in his early forties with blond hair, and he gave her bottom a light slap as he moved away. Lydia couldn’t look at any of the other people, but sensed their attention on her wane as they began focusing on each other.

  Lydia finally lifted her hesitant gaze to Preston, who was lounging in a chair near the fireplace. He gave her a mild smile before turning toward the lushly plump woman beside him, who was massaging his flaccid member into another erection.

  Lydia was startled by the flash of jealousy that sparked to life inside her. While she had never expected any of the three men to pleasure themselves only with her, it was decidedly unnerving to see them engaged in erotic activities with other women. She could understand her jealousy where Gabriel was concerned, but she hadn’t imagined she would ever feel the same way about Preston.

  Tearing her gaze from him, she pushed her damp hair away from her forehead and adjusted her corset to cover her breasts. Odette got to her knees in order to press her lips against Lydia’s mouth.

  The feeling of other woman kissing her enhanced Lydia’s simmering arousal to an almost unbearable level. She brushed her palms audaciously over Odette’s small breasts, shivering at the sensation of her taut nipples.

  “You do know how to use your mouth, precious,” Odette murmured, stroking her tongue over Lydia’s lower lip before easing away. She stretched luxuriously and went to a leather settee where a handsome man dressed as a cowboy was seated. Within seconds, the two of them were engaged in kissing and groping.

  Feeling strangely bereft with the attention no longer focused on her, Lydia rose slowly to her feet. She put her hand on a nearby table to brace herself against a wave of dizziness. Although she longed to press her thighs together to quell the ache of her womanly core, she forced herself to retain her self-control.

  She put her hands on her bottom, feeling the heat of the cane still burning into her skin, the welts branding her with the evidence of her punishment. She wished she could return to her room, but suspected that her request would be refused.

  “Lydia.”

  She turned to find Kruin standing behind her. Lydia’s hand went to her chest in surprise, for she had forgotten his presence.

  She steeled herself against a harsh word or criticism, but to her utter, utter surprise, Kruin reached out to put his big arm around her shoulders. He didn’t draw her toward him, but the mere weight of his arm against her calmed the tension still gripping her blood.

  “You did very well,” Kruin said, his dark eyes approving. “The kind of compliance you displayed this evening is exactly what we had hoped of you.”

  Lydia stared at him in shock as a lump of emotion rose in her throat. She had lost track of the number of times she had wished for his approval, and now here he was bestowing it upon her after a particularly difficult scene. Tears filled her eyes. She wanted to press her face against his broad chest and sob, but he still appeared too forbidding for such a fragile act.

  She swallowed hard, wishing he would never take his protective arm from her shoulders.

  “Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’ve so…thank you.”

  Kruin nodded. “You are not required to stay at the party unless you wish to. You may return to your room.”

  Relief rose in Lydia like a tidal wave. Although she still wanted to ask him for permission to assuage her sensual excitement, she couldn’t find the courage to ask. Especially not after he had actually praised her performance.

  “Yes,” she murmured. “I’ll go.”

  She left the room, feeling if her soul had suddenly sprouted wings.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Lydia rested her head against the back of an overstuffed chair and gazed out the window. The sun had risen halfway over the horizon, creating a reddish gold sheen over the gardens. The Chinese lanterns swayed in a gentle breeze as the delicate paper covers captured the morning light.

  Several articles of clothing lay strewn over the garden’s flagstone paths—a flimsy skirt, a man’s crumpled, white shirt, a lacy piece of lingerie. Lydia thought they were like mementos of the previous evening’s libidinous activities.

  She shifted, wincing as her sore bottom chafed against the chair. She had massaged a healing cream into her skin after returning to her room last night, then fell almost immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  She had woken before dawn, taken a long, hot shower, and had been sitting in the window chair for the last hour. Although she was still emotionally and physically exhausted, she was unable to sleep any longer. Her bottom continued to burn, but alone in the quiet of her room, Lydia didn’t mind the pain terribly much.

  In fact, she was currently rather enjoying the stinging sensations caused by the pressure of the chair, for they reminded her that not only had she successfully endured Preston’s collective punishment, but that she had done well enough to earn Kruin’s approval. The thought made the painful welts on her backside feel like medals of honor.

  A knock sounded at the bedroom door, breaking through her thoughts. She unfolded herself from the plush chair, tugging her bathrobe more closely around her body as she went to open the door.

  “Good morning.” Gabriel stood in the corridor, his eyes brilliantly green in the light of the rising sun. He wore jeans and a blue, chambray shirt that looked soft and faded from multiple washings. “Your door was locked.”

  “Yes, I locked it last night.”

  “You’re never to lock your door here,” Gabriel said with a hint of steel as he entered the room. “You should know that by now.”

  “I’m sorry. With so many people in the house, I was nervous.”

  “Don’t do it again.�
�

  “No, I won’t.”

  Gabriel went to the closet and removed a floral, cotton dress, which he tossed onto the bed. “So did you enjoy yourself last night?”

  “Not particularly.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Not even the slightest bit?”

  Lydia thought of Kruin. “Well, there was some good to it, but overall, I found it quite unpleasant.” She couldn’t prevent herself from adding, “I’m sure you don’t feel the same way.”

  He didn’t respond, gesturing for her to remove her robe. Lydia slipped the robe from her shoulders and pulled the dress over her head, appreciating the looseness of the lightweight material all the more strongly after her confining costume last night.

  “So how did you spend your evening?” Gabriel asked.

  Lydia shrugged and went to the dressing table. “Conversing, a bit of dancing, although that dress and corset made it difficult to move. I tried some of the food. And of course Preston subjected me to one of his little scenarios. In front of a group of people, no less.”

  Gabriel frowned. “What did he do?”

  Lydia grasped the folds of her dress and pulled it over her hips to show him her bruised buttocks. Despite the delivery by several different people, the pattern of welts was lovely and uniform, each red mark splayed evenly across her cheeks and modulated by the stripes of her pale skin.

  At any other time, Lydia would have been hesitant and shy about revealing the evidence of her punishment to Gabriel. Yet this morning, she wanted him to see what she had endured while he had been so engrossed with his willing Cleopatra.

  Gabriel looked at her welts for a moment without response. Lydia let her dress fall over her hips again to cover herself. She reached for a brush and began stroking it through her hair.

  “Kruin was there,” she remarked. “Didn’t he tell you what happened?”