Nature of Desire 8 - Divine solace

by Hill, Joey W.

  “You’re great at distracting conversation topics,” she said, and earned a smile. “I’m too chicken,” she admitted. “I’m not sure if it’s something she wants or needs to hear.”

  “But you thought it was something I might want or need to hear?”

  The neutral note made her draw back. “If you don’t want me to say something like that…”

  “Do you really feel that way?” His eyes were everywhere but on her face.

  “Noah, I need you to look at me. Don’t leave me alone up here.”

  His gaze snapped back to her in an instant. “You’re not. I’m right here. It’s okay.”

  It was amazing, how he could be so uncertain of one part of his head, and yet one hundred percent in tune with it when it came to caring for her. As Lyda had said, it was a heartrending dilemma for someone who loved him. Yet it made her answer to his question easy.

  “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. It’s been a long time since I’ve said it to anyone.”

  He considered that, his visage troubled. “Yet you said it to me, even knowing I can’t…that I’m not…that it doesn’t work for me that way.”

  “Doesn’t it?” For a brief moment, her conviction on that was important enough to forget her fear of heights, to make her touch his face again. “I don’t believe that, Noah. I don’t care what anyone has said to me about it, even you. Just because it might feel or look a different way, doesn’t mean it isn’t the same thing.”

  Noah didn’t say anything to that, but he did stretch his arm across the back of her chair and take a firmer grip on her hand. Completely in the now and wholly protective, the Noah she knew…and loved.

  “Okay,” he said at last, so quiet she almost missed the word. “I don’t know about that, but I do know you should tell her, Gen. You’re the bravest of the three of us.”

  If he’d told her she had horns sprouting out of her head, she couldn’t have been more stunned. Then they went under another of those damn poles. She could swear the chair shuddered more ominously.

  “Do you know they have synchronous lightning bug displays around here?”

  She choked on a laugh, both sets of fingers clamped around his while he slid his arm off the back of the seat onto her shoulders. “You made that up.”

  “I did not. The Tennessee synchronous lightning bugs are world famous. This is only one of two places in the whole world you can see it happen.”

  “So what do they do? Flash ‘buzz off, tourists’ in Morse code?”

  “No.” He grinned, appreciating her. “During their mating season, bunches of them congregate nearby, in Elkmont. The males fly around and flash, and the females watch and respond by blinking back. Sometimes the males all flash at once, sometimes it’s in wave patterns, sometimes they don’t synchronize at all. It’s like watching those programmable Christmas lights, in a way. RVs have to reserve camping passes during that time of year, it’s so popular.

  “Why do they do it? The bugs.”

  “Competition between the males is the theory. They figure if they all flash together, a girl bug can compare flashes and decide who she likes.”

  “So for lightning bug males, it’s the size of the flash, for human males…”

  “Kind of cuts down on the whole human superiority thing when you figure out most species are the same about things,” he said, eyes twinkling. “And the bugs have never divulged whether it’s the size of the flash. It could be how many times they can flash, stamina, rhythmic ability, that kind of thing.”

  She chuckled and managed to bite back the whimper, mostly, when the wire vibrated because the two teenage idiots in the lift ahead rocked their car. On purpose.

  She looked back to verify Lyda’s presence. While Lyda was taking time to enjoy the view, their Mistress met Gen’s gaze, showing she was keeping an eye on her. Had Lyda put Noah and Gen together first to clear the air? Like most things Lyda proposed, it had worked. Noah’s acceptance of the truth Gen had spoken in front of his grandmother was settling into a quiet, powerful thing between them, something that altered how he acted toward her. Since it was new for him, that difference was tentative, exploratory. But it was a good thing. She felt it in the clasp of his hand, his bemused looks at her.

  Gen now knew the unsettling truth that Lyda could put her into an eager submissive role with a look or a word, yet it was a state that made Gen want to call Lyda hers right back, a two-way street. Surely Noah had that desire somewhere deep down inside, buried by the horrible behavior of his family. Everyone wanted someone who belonged to them, in all the ways that comforted in the middle of the night, that made the yawn of the future not so lonely or frightening. Someone with whom to share experiences, successes and failures, tears and laughter.

  Once on the overlook, the three of them pressed hip to hip, Lyda on one side of Gen, Noah on the other, as they took turns peering through the viewfinders. Her fear of heights had to do with dangling at a high elevation, not standing on terra firma looking down the mountain, so as they walked along the deck, Gen enjoyed seeing Gatlinburg transform from garish saloon girl into a mysterious beauty. The buildings softened into silhouettes, lights twinkling across them like a carpet of stars.

  When Gen’s stomach growled, Noah rubbed his as if it had made the offending noise. Lyda chuckled but admitted she was hungry too, so it was time to seek out dinner. However, when they returned to the lift and it appeared as if Lyda was going to follow the same seating arrangement, Gen gave her a reproachful look.

  “You said you’d hold my hand on the way back.”

  Noah grinned at Lyda. “You did, Mistress.”

  “Big babies, the both of you.”

  Despite the fond deprecation, Gen thought Lyda was pleased Gen hadn’t accepted the idea of returning with Noah. Unfortunately, the good feeling about that wasn’t enough to keep her mind away from a sudden, serious problem. As they positioned themselves on the platform, Gen looked out in front of them.

  She’d expected things might go better, with it getting dark and her heading down. Unfortunately, it wasn’t dark enough. Instead of staring at a mountainside as she had going up, she was looking out over a lot of open space. Like a million stories of open space.

  “Lyda…” The panic in her voice caused an undignified squeak.

  “Sit.” Lyda had her arm, had her pushed into the seat, and then they were airborne. Gen’s heart rabbited, her lungs squeezing down to the size of the furry mammal’s.

  “Gen. Breathe. One breath, two breaths…”

  Maybe Noah would have been the better choice on the downward run, his fingers more resilient against Gen’s bone-breaking grip. Lyda transferred Gen’s grip to her thigh, covering her hand with her own, but she put an arm around Gen as bolstering as Noah’s. “Put your face into my neck and close your eyes.”

  Gen pressed against her side, obeyed. “There,” Lyda murmured. “Keep breathing. In. Out. It’s all right. My little control freak.”

  “Pot. Kettle.”

  “You can’t be too afraid if you’re being feisty.”

  “I react to terror with aggression.”

  Lyda brushed a kiss over her temple. “We’re all afraid of something. Being able to get past it shows courage. It’s beautiful. Open just one eye, and look at the city lights. Keep your head where it is. I’m right here.” She rubbed Gen’s upper arm briskly, squeezed it. “You’re all right. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, am I?”

  Gen opened the one eye, saw the pretty lights spread out before them. Now that the sun had set, it was getting darker fast, which helped. She didn’t want to move, but she wanted to show Lyda she could be brave. “I…I think I can lift my head. Is that okay?”

  “Yes. Go ahead. Good girl.” Lyda stroked Gen’s fingers. “If you can manage it, look back at Noah and assure him he shouldn’t scale the cable like a monkey to come help. God save us, he’d do it.”

  Startled, Gen looked back. Even in semidarkness, she read the deep concern in Noah
’s expression. The need to reassure someone else helped. She gave him a nod, a wave of her hand. He smiled in return, settled back. He made a nice distraction, long legs relaxed in a splayed knee posture, his arm along the back of the other empty seat, his hand holding onto the chain above the outside frame. His hair fluttered across his brow.

  Gen drew a breath, faced front again, looked at Gatlinburg. “I’m in love with you too, you know. I don’t know if that’s okay with you or not, but I want to say it, in case it changes anything…for all of us.”

  Lyda kept stroking her upper arm. A little slower, more methodical. Gen didn’t look toward her, but she was already petrified, so she might as well go for all of it.

  Gen cleared her throat. “Chloe told me there are subs at The Zone who would follow Marguerite into hellfire. They think that Domme-groupie thing is the same thing as love, the same as what Tyler feels for her. But it’s not. I don’t think this is that. Maybe it could be, but…”

  “You’re not the groupie kind. Just leave it there, rabbit.”

  “Okay.” All things in their own time. For now, it was enough. Gen was a grown woman. Whatever Lyda was thinking, Gen was responsible for handling her own feelings. Unlike the heights thing, she wouldn’t ask anyone to pick up the slack on that if Lyda didn’t ever feel the same way. It was going to be okay.

  Really.

  Chapter Fourteen

  They walked around Gatlinburg after dinner. Gen picked up souvenirs for Marguerite and Chloe, and some caramel popcorn for her and Noah to enjoy at the cottage later, despite Lyda’s unnatural aversion to junk food. Gen observed she would probably melt like the Wicked Witch of the West if she indulged in a bite. The observation earned her an evil eye and Lyda nabbing some popcorn to prove her wrong.

  When they prepared for bed that night, Lyda ordered them both into it naked, though she wore a T-shirt and panties. Putting Noah in the middle, she laid her head on his left shoulder as Gen put hers on his right. He had his arms around them, an indirect restraint that kept his hands out of the way while Lyda played with him. Gen propped on an elbow, stroking his chest, his throat, her own getting tight at how he lifted his chin to let her put her fingers around it, a light collaring as Lyda gripped the base of his cock. He had his hand curved around Gen’s hip, forbidden by Lyda from fondling either woman’s ass. Yet through the pressure of his palm, Gen felt his desire as vividly as she saw the hardening of his cock under Lyda’s skillful touch.

  Lyda had made them leave it at that, though. In time, she’d taken her hand from him, linked it with Gen’s fingers on his chest, and they’d all fallen asleep that way, Noah stroking a line down Gen’s back, her upper arm.

  At some point, she must have turned on her side, since she tended to sleep facing outward. When she opened her eyes, she saw it was just past two in the morning, and the bed was moving in a rhythmic sway, like a boat on lazy waters.

  Already anticipating what she would see, Gen slowly shifted to her back and to the other side. It put her only a handspan from her other bed partners. Gen folded her hands under her cheek, drinking in the sight of Noah, his gaze trained on Lyda’s face, his body stretched out beneath her as he gripped the headboard. Their Mistress was riding him deep and slow.

  Their tiredness and Lyda allowing only a little bit of play before settling them to sleep had kept simmering libidos manageable. With sex saturating the air and seeing what she was seeing, Gen was aware of every place the sheets touched her bare skin.

  Lyda hadn’t removed any clothes. She’d pulled the crotch of the panties aside to sink down on him. Under the T-shirt, her nipples and sway of her unbound breasts were on delectable display. She’d dropped her head back on her shoulders and her hair was loose, caressing her shoulders. When her chin lowered, the glaze of her eyes said she was lost in pleasure, but not so much she couldn’t issue another command.

  “Push the blanket down and play with yourself, Gen,” she whispered. “Cup those pretty tits, put your fingers inside your cunt.”

  As Gen complied and shifted to her back, Lyda spoke again. “You’re not allowed to look at her,” she told Noah. “But you feel what she’s doing, the movement of her body… He’s getting harder inside of me, Gen. Harder than when I told him you’d wake up wet. Even asleep, you knew what we were doing. Show him, Gen. Prove to him I was right.”

  Gen found his long-fingered hand, already releasing the headboard. Rubbing his calloused palm over her wet pussy, she pushed two of his fingers into a curved dip inside of her. Noah’s breath left him in a gratifying near-growl.

  “Good. Put his hand back now. My pets don’t get to play with one another unless I say so. After you make me come, I’ll blindfold you, Noah. Let you eat both of our pussies, see if you can tell them apart. You don’t come until I’m satisfied.”

  She lived up to that threat, riding Noah until she came. By the time she was there, Noah’s body had that delicious, all-over straining, hard-muscled look to it, his face taut. As she climaxed, Lyda hoarsely commanded Gen to do the same. She was more than ready, her fingers furiously tugging at her clit, stroking her labia. She was distantly aware of Noah’s frustrated groan, then his whisper, goading her on. “Love…hearing you both…come. Fuck…”

  By the time she came down, gasping, Lyda was shifting off Noah. Despite the fact she’d just climaxed, Gen gave his cock a covetous look, swollen up hard and thick, the head glistening with Lyda’s juices. Once again, he wasn’t wearing a condom. She wanted the pleasure of riding him bareback, using the slickness left by Lyda’s body.

  But they were at Lyda’s mercy, their desires secondary. Lyda pulled off her T-shirt, giving them both a view of pale breasts as she draped it over Noah’s face, teasing his lips through the fabric before folding it back and tying it around his head.

  Their desires might be secondary to hers, but sometimes they aligned. Pleasure surged through Gen when Lyda shifted her attention back to her. “Can you ride him without a condom, Gen? He’s safe.”

  Gen nodded, moved by the trust they were both showing in her. But when Gen took Lyda’s place and Lyda straddled his face, planting her knees above his shoulders, lust took the upper hand.

  Gen groaned at the excruciating sensation, pushing Noah’s engorged shaft into her post-climactic tissues. She worked her way down, her arousal refueled by the idea she and Lyda were marking him together. He was totally theirs, every gorgeous inch.

  Lyda gripped the headboard, fingers overlapping his. She brought her pussy down on his mouth, the curves of her ass pressing high against his chest. She glanced over her shoulder at Gen, her eyes gleaming.

  “Put your hands on my waist, Gen, and don’t take them away. We ride this horse together.”

  Gen obeyed, thumbs sliding over the rise of Lyda’s buttocks, just inside the elastic waistband of her panties. As Lyda began to rotate her pussy against Noah’s mouth, her body shuddering at whatever incredible thing he was doing with his lips and tongue, Gen began to rise and fall, taking full pleasure from every inch of his steel cock. Because she’d recently climaxed, she took it nice and slow, building her arousal again. It was clear Noah was in an agonized state of near orgasm. He groaned against Lyda’s pussy, his hips bucking against Gen. Gen drank in the sight of stomach muscles rippling, biceps quivering, the beauty of Lyda’s body doing its sinuous dance over his mouth.

  “Such a good boy,” Lyda rasped. “Holding out until you’ve pleasured us.”

  Despite his faithful intentions, some things were beyond even a trained submissive’s control. Gen expected Lyda knew exactly how much strain that rope could take. Because their Mistress enjoyed punishment too, she delighted in forcing it to snap. Gen felt it all the way to her womb when Noah lost the battle, coming with a hoarse, muffled shout, his hips plunging and pulling back, making Gen spasm right into a spinning climax. Lyda tightened down on him, coming again, either because she’d been that close or the situation was just too much for anyone to resist.

  When they slowed
down at last, and Lyda ordered her to slide off their “mount”, Gen saw she’d left fingerprints in Lyda’s sides. As they nestled back into the sheets, this time Lyda was between them. Noah kissed one side of those fingermarks, Gen the other, and they each took a turn at cleaning their Mistress’s pussy with their mouths. They worked around one another, Gen laying kisses on her thighs while Noah tongued her labia. They fell asleep with Gen’s head on her breast, and Noah’s on her stomach, his arm slung across Lyda’s thighs, hand curled on Gen’s hip. Lyda murmured to them both, an incoherent lullaby of words that told them they’d pleased her well.

  * * * * *

  Gen woke to sunlight streaming through the window. It was nearly eight o’clock, and she was alone. Despite the warmth of the bed, she decided she’d rather risk the cool early air of a morning in the mountains than be without Noah and Lyda. Donning robe and slippers, she made a quick trip to the bathroom and then headed for the smell of coffee. Thinking of last night, she wondered if it would ever get old, the endless sensual pleasure the two of them wove around her.

  The erotic sight awaiting her in the kitchen suggested a giant no.

  Lyda sat at the kitchen table. She wore nothing but one of her enticing robes and a wicked pair of four-inch stilettos. She’d dropped one to the floor and had her supple leg stretched out, her bare foot braced on the opposite chair. The other foot, still in the shoe, was pressed against Noah’s genitals. He was beneath the table, arms cuffed to the base, knees bent outward to touch the floor, an incredibly vulnerable pose, especially with the toe of the shoe pinning his cock down against his pelvis, the spike heel stabbing into his nest of testicles.

  He was blindfolded, and there was dried semen on his belly, his chest. She’d obviously made him come at least once this morning. Gen wished she wasn’t such a deep sleeper, but a ball gag, buckled so the ball depressed his tongue and the straps cut into the corners of his mouth, suggested it wouldn’t have made a difference. He wore a real blindfold this morning, the black eye patches pressed tight against his eyes so not even light would get through.