‘You bastard,’ Lydia twisted away from him, fumbling to close her dress as she started to shake with indignation. Disgust rose to choke her throat as her night with Cassie suddenly seemed sordid with the realization that Preston had intruded. ‘How dare you spy on us? What kind of a shit are you?’
Preston shook his head and tutted again. ‘Language, Lydia, really.’
Fury coated Lydia’s world in a hazy mist, and before realizing what she was doing she slapped his arrogant countenance, instantly leaving a red imprint on his cheek.
Preston was visibly shocked by the speed and ferocity of the unexpected assault, and then a mask of anger froze his features. He grabbed for her, but she eluded his grasp and ran out the French doors to the garden, clutching her dress together.
She ran as far and as fast as she could as if the very devil himself were chasing her, and then she sank down under the drooping branches of a weeping willow, her chest heaving as she gasped for air, trying to rid herself of Preston’s revelation as if it were a squalid nightmare from which she might wake up.
She collapsed onto the grass, burying her face in her arms, silently sending apologies to Cassie for having betrayed their secret… although now she knew it wasn’t a secret, and the knowledge that their wonderful private moment had been sullied by Preston’s intrusion sickened her.
She didn’t know how long she laid there, but a hand on her shoulder startled her out of her despair. She lifted her head, her eyes glazed with tears behind a veil of silken dark hair.
‘That was a dangerous move, Lydia,’ Gabriel said. He sat on the grass beside her, not moving his hand from her shoulder.
She turned away from him, hugging herself for some small comfort. ‘I don’t care,’ she grumbled.
‘You know he’ll punish you.’
‘I don’t care. He would have anyway. He’s depraved.’
Gabriel was silent. A breeze rustled through the willow tree, causing the slack branches to sashay back and forth in a seductive, gentle dance. The pungent scent of grass and fresh air filled Lydia’s senses. She closed her eyes, and an unbidden thought appeared in her mind, one that imagined how it would be to leave this place, to simply walk away and never look back.
‘You can’t,’ Gabriel whispered, seeming to voice the response to her unspoken question.
Lydia turned back to him. ‘I know I can’t,’ she acknowledged, and gazed at him for a moment, sinking into the emerald depths of his eyes, watching the sweep of a breeze through his black hair.
‘What did you mean?’ she asked. ‘When you said I have to be La Lierre et le Chêne?’
‘Ivy and oak,’ he said, his fingers brushing her forehead, stroking away a lock of hair. ‘Pliant and strong. Manageable and unyielding. Compliant, docile, but also inflexible. You have to adapt and surrender, and yet no one can take from you an inner core of pure strength.’
‘I don’t think I have one.’
Gabriel looked saddened. ‘Lydia,’ he stressed, ‘of course you do.’
‘Then why am I here?’
‘Because you wanted to retain control of your life.’
‘But I don’t have any control here.’
‘That is not true. You only think you don’t.’
Unbidden memories of yesterday appeared in Lydia’s mind; an image of how she must have looked stretched over Kruin’s lap with her buttocks flaming, on her knees between Gabriel’s legs, sucking his penis.
A horrible, sordid sensation threatened to engulf her. God, she was as depraved as they were, if she derived pleasure from such things.
And there was no denying that she had derived pleasure from them.
Lydia turned her face away from Gabriel again, feeling the damnable flush of shame creep over her complexion.
He was no better, she reminded herself. He’d left her last night to wallow in her own wantonness, her inability to resist the undeniably delicious things they did to her. He had only wanted to confirm their expertise in making her succumb whether she wanted to or not.
Gabriel stood, brushing loose grass off his trousers. ‘Come back with me,’ he said, offering her his hand, and she accepted it.
They passed Kruin on the veranda, and his stare said more than words ever could, singeing into Lydia like a firebrand. She felt like a wayward child who had misbehaved and was now required to await punishment for her wrongs.
At his curt instruction she went into the house, her heart beginning to pound hard as she entered the library.
Preston was waiting for her, his thighs propped against the oak desk, his eyes narrowed as he watched her approach. He nodded towards an armchair, and Lydia lowered herself into the plush comfort of it, suddenly wishing she hadn’t previously behaved so rashly.
Preston rapped out an order, and Lydia’s fingers flew to the buttons of her dress. She unfastened each tiny disc again, revealing her nakedness to him once more, her legs parted in symbolic invitation, her skin gleaming with sweat from the haste of her flight. Preston’s blue eyes raked over her, lingering at the savory apex of her thighs, spread for his viewing.
A tight smile twisted his mouth. ‘You think I’m going to punish you now, don’t you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you think you deserve it?’
Lydia’s eyes flashed, but she nodded.
‘I’d like to do it now, of course. However, I find it far more interesting if one is required to wait. I think you’ll be far more inclined to be compliant if you know that a punishment is awaiting you, and that I might choose to carry it out at any time.’ He smiled again and rubbed his palm against the front of his trousers. ‘The mere thought of it excites me.’
He approached her chair, stopping in front of her so that she was at eye-level with the bulge in his crotch. She fought the urge not to recoil, suddenly wishing for the presence of Gabriel or even Kruin, for she did not relish the idea of being alone with Preston in any capacity. Her fingertips dug into the velvet arms of the chair, her body tensing as Preston reached out to flick his fingers over her nipple.
‘Come now, Lydia,’ Preston said, ‘I won’t punish you today, but I do think you owe me something for having acted the way you did.’ With that proclamation lingering in the air he unzipped his trousers, releasing his penis, which quivered for release. He grasped the root of the stalk in his hand, leisurely stroking the stiff member up to the tip, from which a pearl of moisture began to leak.
Apprehension lit in Lydia’s eyes, causing Preston to smile. Although he was not quite as well endowed as Gabriel or Kruin, they both knew he had an edge over her that the other two men lacked.
‘You were always so proud, weren’t you, Lydia?’ he said.
‘Was I?’
‘So proud that you wouldn’t fuck around when we were younger. They all talked about you, you know, how untouchable you were, how haughty. I remember a bet once; who could touch your cunt first. The problem was that no one could decide on how to prove the winner.’
A sick feeling of loathing rose in Lydia’s throat.
‘I suppose none of us would have won in the end, would we?’ Preston continued thoughtfully, his hand still sliding up and down the stout stalk of his penis. ‘After all, you were too busy sucking lovely Cassie’s pussy, weren’t you?’
‘Christ, Preston, I hate you,’ Lydia complained.
‘Do you?’ Preston scoffed mildly. ‘So do you want to leave here, then?’
Lydia fought to regain control over herself, her breathing hard as defiance raged in her. She stared at the swollen member in front of her face, trying to somehow distance the organ from the man who possessed it. She closed her eyes, and an unbidden reminder of the means by which she had arrived at this place returned to haunt her. She had been overconfident; she thought she was covering her tracks so cleanly that no one would ever unearth her as the culprit embezz
ler. And this, here, now, was her lengthy punishment, her exile from the world.
A heavy silence hung around her as she opened her eyes and parted her lips.
Chapter 4
Preston smiled as he nudged the knob of his prick into Lydia’s gorgeous mouth. Dribbles of semen coated her tongue, and she closed her lips tightly around the throbbing hardness of his shaft. Her tongue laved the underside of his penis as his hands clutched her head and he began to thrust indulgently in and out of her mouth.
A glorious merriment filled him as he looked down and watched the movement of his rampant erection pumping between the pouting red lips of his captive, making his loins twitch at the thought of the glistening lips farther down. How he had always longed to fuck her there, longed to sink his stiffness into her and thrust for as long as he could until splendid rapture claimed him.
The thought cast his senses into a maelstrom as he pulled his saliva-wet shaft out of Lydia’s mouth and commanded her to perch on the desk. To his intense gratification she did, even pulling up her dress and spreading her legs to reveal the damp folds of her sex, the delicate morsel of her clitoris protruding forth as if begging to be touched, and Preston was only too delighted to comply, for although he intended to punish her for her infraction, he was not averse to her obtaining some pleasure for the time being.
In fact it made their situation all the more intriguing, as she would be obliged to struggle with her distaste of submitting to them, while at the same time unable to deny the physical pleasure she received at their hands.
Lydia’s breathing came in rapid pants as Preston began to massage the receptive button with his fingertips, everything in him thrilled at the sight of proud Lydia spread out on the desk like a lamb at a sacrificial altar, her pale skin burnished with perspiration, the tight buds of her nipples standing proud from the soft swell of her breasts.
But before she reached her climax Preston desisted. Lydia’s eyes opened, her chest heaving.
‘Ah, Lydia, not so regal anymore, are you?’ he goaded.
She didn’t respond, but her lips compressed with displeasure and apprehension. She began to close her legs, but he pressed his hands between them, against the silky flesh of her inner thighs.
‘Oh no,’ he said, his voice laced with menace. ‘And especially not in front of me, Lydia. Don’t even think of it.’
A tremor ran through her as she stared at him with wide eyes. Preston’s penis ached. He longed to envelop himself in her cunt, but he clenched his teeth and forcibly restrained himself.
He leaned over her, his breath against her face as he whispered, ‘You were more of a little sensualist than you ever let on, weren’t you?’
Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. ‘W-what are you talking about?’ she asked timorously.
‘What other activities did you engage in when we were younger?’
Lydia’s mouth tightened. ‘That’s none of your business.’
Preston grabbed her by the chin, his fingers digging into her cheeks and he forced her to look at him. Rage tightened every muscle in his body as memories of their youth flooded his mind. ‘How dare you,’ he hissed. ‘You’d better watch yourself, Lydia, or you’ll be out on the streets before you know it. Is that what you want? Do you want to escape from the investigators on your own? I’d be more than delighted to sit back and watch that happen, if for no other reason than to see how far you get. And we both know, darling, that it won’t be very far at all, don’t we?’
He drew her face closer to his, so close that their harsh breath mingled in the space between them. ‘Is that what you want?’
She didn’t respond, although Preston could not determine if she didn’t want to or if she was simply incapable. He released her and grasped his erection, which was still wet from her oral attentions. He picked up her hand and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, commanding her in curt tones to massage him.
She stared at him, then down at the movement of her hand as she began to stroke the compact stalk. Her thumb rubbed the underside, the fingers of her free hand cupping his tight sacs as her fist repeatedly engulfed him.
‘You’re quite an expert at this, aren’t you, Lydia?’ Preston whispered hoarsely, his hips beginning to thrust into her delicious grip. ‘Was this what you did to the local youths instead of fucking them?’
When she didn’t answer he cruelly pinched her nipple, and Lydia drew in a sharp breath, flinching at the pain.
‘Was it?’ Preston repeated.
‘S-sometimes.’ She didn’t look at him, her gaze still on the pumping motion of her hand.
His lips curled into a sneer. ‘Sometimes? When?’
‘When… when they asked me to. When I wanted to.’
Preston’s head filled with images of a younger Lydia masturbating teenage youths. Her wet lips would have been parted in fascination, as if she wanted to suck them into her lovely mouth, her nipples pressing against her shirt.
‘Where did you do it?’ he went on.
‘In their cars,’ Lydia admitted, her legs instinctively parting a little more. ‘At the movies, sometimes.’
‘Tell me more.’
‘I… Preston, I can’t…’
He pinched her nipple again, harder this time, and delved between her legs with his free hand. Her clitoris pulsed against his fingertips like a heartbeat.
‘Don’t you use those words with me,’ he snapped. ‘You can, and you will. Tell me.’
Her eyes closed, but her hand didn’t stop gripping his thick erection. A sigh wafted from her lips. ‘We would sit… sit in the back row,’ she whispered.
‘What did you wear?’
‘Cotton T-shirts, a miniskirt, I can’t really remember exactly.’
Preston smiled and leaned over her, rotating his thumb around her bud of pleasure. ‘To show off your figure, or so they could grope between your legs without hindrance and excite you?’
Lydia moaned, her body tensing. Her fingers slackened on his cock, giving him cause to take his hand from her slippery sex, grasp her hand again and tightened it around his shaft.
‘Don’t you dare stop,’ he murmured. ‘You have several punishments awaiting you, so don’t give yourself another one.’
She shuddered, but resumed her tight stroking from base to tip.
‘Did they?’ he pressed again. ‘Did they fumble around awkwardly to try and get into your knickers?’
Lydia nodded, and Preston smiled thinly. Oh yes, this was exactly what he wanted, to embarrass her by forcing her to dredge up all the sordid memories of her youth, to expose the libertine who had always lain beneath the surface of her refined self.
‘And you liked it,’ he accused.
‘Y-yes… I did, yes,’ she blurted.
‘You were wet for them, weren’t you? Just like you are now. And did they make you orgasm?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Did they touch you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Were your nipples hard?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did they come all over your clever little hand?’
‘Yes…’
Her pale skin was wet with perspiration, and she pressed her thighs together as if trying to draw sensations from her body.
Preston gave her thigh a light slap. ‘Open your legs, now,’ he ordered.
‘No please, Preston, I can’t… I… oh… oh!’ Her body stiffened and shook with a sudden and intense series of shudders, glistening juices bathing her inner thighs as she failed to suppress her orgasm.
‘Oh, Lydia,’ Preston crooned, his tone steely as his expression hardened with displeasure, ‘you will pay for that as well. You know that, don’t you?’
She turned her head away from him, her eyelids heavy, her eyes filled with a mixture of weary satisfaction and unease. Preston eased her back and leaned over her b
reasts, his penis sticking rigidly over the soft globes of mouth-watering flesh. He brushed the tight head against her nearest nipple.
‘Do it,’ he ordered.
She gasped softly and moved to ease his wet shaft between her glistening lips, her fingers encircling the base almost delicately. She shifted her head back and forth, her hair shifting with her movements as her tongue circled and danced over his throbbing shaft.
Preston pulled away from her as he felt unbearable pressure begin to gather in his groin. He pushed her delicious legs apart and positioned himself between them, and then with one movement he sank his bulging shaft into her opening, thrusting so deep that only the pouch of his tight testicles prevented further entry, for he truly felt as if he could sink into her completely.
Lydia moaned, her back arching off the desk as he began to grind into her, his entire being electrified by the rapture of his repeated plunges into her gripping cunt.
He bent forward to capture her nipples between his lips, tugging at the buds until Lydia gasped with pleasure and began to writhe lewdly beneath him. Honey flowed profusely from between the smooth lips of her labia, bathing Preston’s rigid cock with a glistening sheen.
Broken whimpers spilled from Lydia’s throat, inflaming Preston’s blood all the more as he stroked the pulsing knot of her clitoris and felt her inner walls clutch around his shaft. Then he withdrew from her body and gave her thigh another slap.
‘Turn over,’ he rasped.
She stared up at him, dismay darkening her lovely eyes as she realized exactly what further insult he intended to bestow upon her. Her mouth opened to protest, but then she twisted around and presented her backside to him. Preston gripped her waist to pull her to the edge of the desk so that the tips of her toes touched the plush carpet and her hips were positioned in a delicious curve that would allow him unconstrained access.
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