It plucked a heartstring, disturbing layers of emotional sediment. Since Gen wanted to keep the focus on waking her body, not her past, she let her eyes fall shut. Her body was even more attuned to Lyda’s touch without the distraction of sight. Gen wanted Lyda to keep touching her this way, all night. But she wanted to do the same, find out what it was like to touch this fascinating woman. Her hands had initially been on her lap, but part defense mechanism, part following her own wants, they’d drifted to the leg in her lap, one resting on Lyda’s shin, the other on her thigh. Gen’s fingers curled into the thin, stretched fabric of the tight leggings as she closed her eyes and Lyda made an approving murmur at her compliance.
“What did you want me to do when you saw me, Gen? What did you want to do? First thing that comes to mind.”
“I wanted to kiss you. Be kissed by you.”
“Two different things, aren’t they? Which one did you want more?”
“Too hard to choose. Do I have to?”
Lyda chuckled, an erogenous sound. “Keep very, very still. Eyes stay closed. Face turned toward me. If you move, or open your eyes, I’ll draw back.”
She held her breath as Lyda shifted. The woman’s palm slid across her abdomen, curving around her waist, just above her hip. She adjusted the leg behind Gen so it was bowed around her buttocks and hip, and moved the other one off her lap to the floor so Lyda’s foot was braced between Gen’s, her calf pressed against her shin. It left Gen’s hands empty and on her lap again.
Gen held her breath as Lyda’s mint-tinged breath teased her lips, her mouth brushing over hers. Her lips were already parted. She felt a touch of Lyda’s tongue, tracing her lips, darting inside to caress Gen’s tongue. That held breath caught in her throat. Lyda’s fingers dug into her hip, and her other hand locked against Gen’s jaw, holding her still as she played with her.
A tiny, needy noise came from Gen’s lips, spoken into the other woman’s mouth. Lyda answered with an incoherent reassurance, one that had a firm note to it, reinforcing the order to stay still. Then she eased back, though she stayed close enough her arm was still around Gen’s waist, hand kneading her nape beneath her hair line.
“Let’s talk about your weekend with Noah,” Lyda said. “I understand you let him give you pleasure this weekend.”
She couldn’t claim that wasn’t Lyda’s business, right? In the context of this world, Noah was “hers”. Gen nodded.
“Did you like having him come for you? You can open your eyes.”
Gen felt Noah’s attention in her peripheral vision, even though she couldn’t pull away from Lyda’s irresistible stare. “I liked everything about him. He’s a pleasure to have around.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Lyda allowed her to look toward the subject of their conversation. Noah shifted into view from behind the couch, where he’d been standing in quiet attendance. He had that absorbed look men always seemed to have when two women were touching one another. Seeing him after having her eyes closed, all of her now quivering from Lyda’s attention and kiss, was like the well-timed stroke of a vibrator against her pussy.
Gen bit back a murmur of want as her gaze slid over all the bare skin, the way he looked in the laced pants. She wanted to tug on those wrapped bracelets, let her hands glide up his forearms, spread her palms out over his chest, tangle her fingers in the choker at his throat.
Lyda twisted one of Gen’s curls around her fingers and leaned forward. Gen saw the delicate flare of Lyda’s nostrils as she inhaled, rubbed her lips over the thick lock.
“I wondered if he smells like you.”
Lyda drew back enough to arch a brow. “Pardon?”
Gen swallowed. “Everyone carries a certain combination of scents, natural as well as soap or perfume, that kind of thing. I wondered if your scent is on him.”
Lyda’s eyes glowed like burnished metal, her glossy lips pursing. “I might just let you get close enough to both of us tonight to find out.”
Gen couldn’t help taking another look at the distracting size of Noah’s genitals beneath the hold of the pants. It hadn’t abated since he’d met her at the door.
“On your knees, Noah,” Lyda purred. “Keep your eyes on the floor until I say otherwise. Put your hand inside those pants that have all the women creaming themselves and stroke yourself.”
Gen’s heart fluttered up, not just at the direct order, but at Noah’s instant compliance. He dropped with lithe masculine grace. No hesitation. The pants had the provocative flexibility of a condom as he slid beneath the waistband, found himself. She could see the outline of his knuckles, the thickness of his cock as he gripped himself.
“Her pulse just rabbited.” Lyda had her thumb alongside Gen’s neck as she fondled her hair. “Her pussy’s getting wet, the more she thinks about your cock ramming into her.”
“No, I…” She didn’t think of it that blatantly. Couldn’t. Too fraught with potential disappointment. Lyda pushed her hair aside, put her mouth to Gen’s ear. Gen let out an unsteady breath as Lyda nibbled and teased the shell, nipped the tender skin beneath.
“What are you thinking then, fierce rabbit?”
“I think about…touching myself while he does that. The other’s…too much. Too soon.”
“Like this weekend.” Lyda lifted her head. Gen kept her eyes on Noah, not sure she could face Lyda’s intense scrutiny, but Lyda delved into her guarded consciousness anyway. “Someone’s made you gun shy. You have trouble getting out of the way of your own head, don’t you?”
Gen guessed that was part of it. She wanted to look at Noah. Doing that, not thinking, was so much easier. He was stroking himself nice and slow, that gorgeous upper body rolling with the movement. Though it captivated anyone looking their way, he didn’t seem aware of any other audience. When he dared to flick his gaze up, she saw a male desiring only to pleasure the two of them. The jolt that came from such concentrated attention beat the hell out of a hundred female self-empowerment books.
“You can tell he’s stripped for a living once or twice, can’t you? He’s done a little of everything. But that’s not where he belongs. Is it, Noah?”
The sharpness of Lyda’s tone pulled Gen out of her head. This time as Noah’s gaze rose, Gen saw more than just desire. When he shook his head, Lyda’s muscles tensed against her.
“You’ll answer me, Noah.”
“I only want to pleasure you both, Mistress. Please.” The rough plea was a clear request to stay away from whatever gate Lyda was crashing. Lyda considered, pressing her lips together.
“You get a pass for now. But we’ll come back to it.” Sliding her hand down the side of Gen’s throat to her shoulder, Lyda hooked her bra strap beneath the dress’s neckline. The pure sexual intent yanked Gen’s attention away from the puzzle of that exchange. “Did you buy something nice to wear beneath this dress?”
“Yes.” On a normal date, it would be an outrageous question. In this environment, such questions seemed normal. Though Gen wasn’t sure what she would do if Lyda told her to strip, right here, right now.
“Turn around. Lean against me and stretch out. Noah is going to give you a foot massage.”
“Oh…well, he doesn’t need to do that.”
“Don’t deny him, or yourself, the pleasure.”
Noah removed his hand from its distracting task and rose to help. Gen couldn’t resist them both. He lifted her legs, helped Lyda turn her so her upper body was settled back against Lyda and she felt Lyda’s breasts, molded and held up by the corset, press into her shoulder blades. Lyda’s thighs spread to accommodate Gen’s hips.
Her arm slid around Gen’s waist, her jaw pressed against Gen’s temple. Lyda feathered her fingers over Gen’s cheek. It started out as gentle as before, but then the pressure on her jaw firmed, turning Gen’s cheek toward Lyda’s shoulder. This time when Lyda’s lips touched Gen’s neck pulse, she gave her the edge of her teeth.
Arousal surged within Gen, but panic as well, caused by her lack of control
over her own responses. “This feels strange to me.”
“This isn’t being done for you, but for me, Gen.” Lyda spoke against her flesh. “It pleases me to hold you like this, to explore your body while you’re stretched out in front of me.” She traced the neckline of Gen’s dress and played in the valley between her breasts, causing ripples of sensation that ran across them and made Gen shift restlessly.
“When it’s not about you, but what I want, what I demand, it becomes easier. Does it feel good, pleasing me?”
It did. But Gen wasn’t sure what strings were attached to such a question, so she didn’t know what to say.
“Simple truth, Gen. No analysis.” Lyda held her chin, her mouth so close to Gen’s she couldn’t think beyond the thought of how Lyda had kissed her. “Does pleasing me feel good?”
“Yes.”
A brush of Lyda’s mouth rewarded her, but since the woman was holding her head, it was controlled, Lyda sipping from Gen’s mouth while Gen became parched with the desire to return the favor.
In the meantime, Noah had been removing her shoes. He dropped to one knee, his strong hands caressing her arches. When he closed his palms over them and began to massage, it was instant Nirvana, a paradise mix of intimacy, comfort and sensual pleasure.
“Oh…wow.”
“Exactly.” Lyda said, her tone full of feline satisfaction. “Have you noticed Noah has a tongue stud?”
She began an idle tracing of Gen’s sternum, making wider circles, finding the curves of her breasts beneath the neckline of the dress. When Noah kneaded her arches, a thrum of reaction ran up Gen’s inner thighs from the dual sensation.
“I asked you a question, Gen.”
“Yes. Yes, I noticed it.”
“He’s very skilled in its use. He said you didn’t avail yourself of it very much this weekend. I like that you exercised restraint because you weren’t sure of his relationship with me. I also think you held yourself back because things like this aren’t casual for you. I particularly like that. Noah, come up here.”
He knelt at Gen’s side, put his arm on the other side of her hip, corralling her between him and Lyda. His hip pressed against Gen, and her gaze strayed down to his cock, causing a mouthwatering stretch against the pants. “You want to touch him somewhere, Gen? Touch him there, one fingertip only.”
As tempting as his cock was, her attention had moved to the lacings on the sides of the pants. She could see his bare skin beneath them, all the way from waist to ankle. Thinking about the impressions that would be on his skin when he finally took off the pants, she caught a fingertip underneath the lacing on the nearer side, a tiny stroke of the visible inch of skin.
“A nice choice. You notice the little things. Make her smile, Noah. She’s getting too worried about things.”
Noah leaned forward, blew on Gen’s lips, which did make her smile, but he wasn’t done. As her lips parted, he pressed the advantage, bringing them together in a kiss, his tongue entering to tease hers. Then she jumped as a tickling vibration skated along her tongue, the inside of her lip.
He drew back as she caught herself in a startled chuckle, a near giggle and squirm. His devilish look made her laugh outright, her body moving against Lyda’s hold. Lyda held her in her lap, her palm flat on her abdomen right below her breasts, her other hand playing in her hair. It was intoxicating to have her vision taken up by them both.
“Yes, it vibrates,” Lyda said. “Which doesn’t seem much different from what you can buy in a novelty shop, until you experience what he can do with it.”
The part-threat, part-tease transformed Gen’s amusement into anticipation. As Noah shifted back to the end of the couch, Lyda held her body more securely. “You relaxed a little more. Progress.” Lyda spoke against her ear. “Do I make you feel safe, rabbit?”
Yes. And no. Again she recognized the echo of the feeling as something she often experienced in Marguerite’s presence. With Lyda, the core of it included a craving to get even closer, physically, not just stand under the shade of that canopy. “I keep myself safe,” Gen said.
“I’m getting that. But there’s a difference between being safe in a panic room and feeling safe in the sunshine. We’ll talk about that another time, though. Right now, I’m going to make you lose your mind.”
“Ah…” Gen didn’t have to come up with an answer for that. Noah was back to giving her a foot massage, but not with his hands. He’d started to tease her bare feet with his mouth, running that tongue stud up the arch. It wasn’t vibrating, which was probably good, because she had very ticklish feet. Yet the feelings he was evoking weren’t ticklish. The aroused strumming up her legs during his massage had been gentle waves. Now they sharpened into direct lines of sensation, shooting up her inner thighs, behind her knees. As he moved to her ankles, Gen let out an unsteady breath.
“That dress is short enough I bet Noah can see your panties. You’re nice and wet aren’t you? He’ll smell it as he gets closer.”
Gen had paid little attention to the surrounding people since Lyda had sat her down on the couch, but realizing where this was heading, she became aware of interested glances, and not just in the sitting area. Since she was in a position to look up, she saw what Noah had pointed out earlier. Both the second and third floor of The Zone allowed for mezzanine galleries to view what was happening below, even in a seemingly casual area like this. Noah and Lyda were striking enough to attract attention, even if they’d been doing this to a mannequin. She saw faces above, studying them.
“They don’t matter. All that matters is how you feel, and what I want.”
Lyda leaned forward, taking up more of Gen’s vision. She also moved her fingertips beneath the vee of the dress to caress Gen’s breast more intimately. “Spread your legs, Gen.”
Lyda said it in a low voice, but it was her first direct order to Gen, no mistaking it for what it was. By obeying, Gen would be doing what felt right at the moment, but how did that commit her future actions? If she let go of the anchor of her own will, she could be swept away on the tide of Lyda’s. She caught Lyda’s leg in one hand, white knuckled.
“Ssshh…close your eyes. Just listen to my voice.”
Gen shut her eyes. Was she really doing this, in the middle of a public room, voices all around her? Though the room was buffered, it wasn’t completely soundproof. With her eyes closed, she heard other things, as if they were conspiring with Lyda to gain her compliance. Cries of pain from one direction, underscored by a rhythmic noise like the slap of a flogger, a counterbeat to the distant dance floor music. A shriek of ecstasy, as someone else reached climax.
When Gen inhaled, she was inundated with perfumes and colognes, everything from jasmine to lavender to sandalwood to the overwhelming smell of sexual desire, which overlaid everything else. What had Noah said? Everything here was consensual, what people wanted. Craved. Needed. One of those aroused scents was hers.
Noah had reached her knees, that clever mouth making wet patterns on her flesh, his teeth adding marks from short nips. When he curled his tongue around the crease of her knee, teasing the back, she shifted restlessly. She’d spread her legs a little at Lyda’s command, but now Noah’s strong hands gripped her thighs, spread her wider. Enough that one knee was bent and pushed against the back of the couch, the other positioned so her foot was flat on the floor. Lyda adjusted her so her back and hips accommodated the change. She wanted Gen to let go of the anchor, trusting Lyda to be the vessel.
Noah’s upper body was stretched over the couch, one hand braced against her bent leg to hold it in place, the other curved over the upper thigh of her other leg to hold it down. Uncertainty returned at the restraint, but Lyda used the nylon content of the dress Gen wore to stretch the neckline of the dress open and down, revealing and framing the satin bra.
“Very pretty,” she confirmed. “And thin, so I can see when your nipples are hard. You’re already dressing for a Mistress’s pleasure.” She slid her hands inside the bra, her knuckl
es pushing back the cups to keep them out of the way. The open air touched Gen’s taut nipples. Now anyone could see. But when Noah lifted his lashes to give them a lingering stare, she couldn’t look beyond his expression or Lyda’s reaction.
“You have gorgeous breasts,” Lyda said. Noah made a noise of fervent agreement. He dipped his head, returning to licking, kissing, nuzzling her inner thighs. Occasionally she felt a tiny thrum as he let the tongue stud vibrate, then he cut it back again, its stimulation unpredictable. His hands had slid up her thighs, pushed back the skirt, his thumbs so close to her pussy they pressed against the elastic of the panties.
“Noah is going to go down on you.” Lyda leaned forward further, her beautiful hair curtaining Gen’s face. Reaching up, Gen threaded her fingers through it, pleased with the thick softness. Lyda studied Gen’s fingers on her hair. The look on her face was pleasure, laced with a reserve that told Gen she’d considered ordering her to put her hands down. But Gen wasn’t here as a sub or a Domme. Certain liberties would be allowed. At least right now.
“Noah is going to eat your pussy, drive you to insanity,” Lyda continued in that melted-sugar voice. “But he’s not going to let you come. Not until you beg me to take you home with me tonight.”
That was blackmail. Extortion. Something nefarious. Before she could argue, though, Noah’s tongue slid over the crotch of Gen’s panties, teasing her pussy through the silk fabric.
“He’s a master at this. He compares it to martial arts positions, giving names to different strokes, positions, rhythms. Hummingbird, Flowing Water… He’ll tell you all that nonsense sometime when his mouth isn’t otherwise occupied.”
Noah had a finger occupied as well, because he’d caught the edge of the panties, eased them aside, so that metal stud was sliding up her bare labia. It made her thigh muscles strain. Lyda’s thumbs and forefingers captured Gen’s nipples. It started as a light hold, but then became an increasingly firmer pinch. As the discomfort increased, the coil low in her belly got tighter, and she found she didn’t want Lyda to ease off, as if the pain was feeding into the pleasure, making it bittersweet. Gen arched into her touch.
Nature of Desire 8 - Divine solace Page 11
