Lydia closed her eyes as if that could stop the startlingly arousing power of his cruel words, just as he pulled out of her and ejaculated long and hard over her bruised flesh, rubbing his abating shaft into the valley between her plump buttocks as he rode out his final pleasures.
Lydia struggled not to lower her hips from her obscenely exposed position, knowing he would interpret that as a personal insult, and she could not afford to insult him further.
Only when he gave her bottom a light slap did she ease herself cautiously onto her sore front. She heard him rustling about the room, but didn’t lift her face from the pillow until her body had ceased trembling and she had absorbed some more of the lingering pain of the whip.
Her sex continued to yearn erotic release, and she tried to detach herself from the persistent urge. A self-preserving part of her mind filled with relief that she had been able to prevent herself from surrendering to the need to climax. She rose and wearily lowered her feet to the floor, eyeing Preston warily as he emerged from the bathroom.
He had slipped into a pair of cotton shorts, but was otherwise naked. He had a lean body, his chest broad and covered with a mat of light brown hair, his arms toned. He gave her a smile, reaching out to chuck his fingers affectionately underneath her chin.
‘That was also for continuing to defy our simple orders,’ he explained, his eyes roving over her inflamed breasts and her belly. ‘How lovely you look marked by my whip,’ he mused. ‘If you’re not careful I might be tempted to keep you that way.’
Lydia shuddered with horror at the mere thought of what he said, and bent to retrieve her discarded dress, only to stop when he tutted and shook his head disappointedly.
Lydia looked at him, confusion in her eyes. ‘I thought you’d want me to leave now,’ she said.
‘Hardly, my precious one,’ he said. ‘No, no, tonight you sleep with me.’
Lydia stared at him in shock. Of all things, she had never even considered the idea that one of the men would actually want her to share his bed for the night. She was oddly horrified by the thought, for such an intimate act would truly mean she had lost the final vestiges of her privacy and independence. At least when alone in her room she could obtain some respite from the dominating authority of the three men. She could be alone, read alone, bathe alone, sleep blissfully alone – but now…
To her dismay fresh tears came to her eyes and her lip began to tremble. Her emotions were painfully raw, simmering just below the surface, so unprotected she could not muster the strength to control them. The tears spilled unbidden down her cheeks as despair rose in the depths of her soul.
Preston lifted his eyebrows in mock surprise and patted her shoulder. ‘Oh, come now, think of how fortunate you are to be allowed to sleep in my bed,’ he mocked patronizingly. ‘And if you’re good and don’t steal all the covers, I might even let you suck my cock before we rise in the morning. After all, I know how much you enjoy that particular act.’
His eyes hardened with a hint of cold jealousy, and Lydia knew he was remembering the night he walked in on her sucking Gabriel’s erection. Would he make her pay for that as well?
‘Come now,’ Preston folded back the luxurious coverlet and sheets of his bed, patting the plump feather pillows, ‘get into bed.’
With a sick sense of dread about spending the entire night by his side, Lydia forced herself to slip underneath the covers. The heavy sheets rubbed against her welts, but she bit her lip and suppressed a moan of discomfort. Although it would take a lot of determination, she would not allow him the satisfaction of knowing she was still sore.
He slipped in beside her, reaching out to pull her close to him. ‘Rest your head on my chest,’ he coaxed. ‘That’s right.’ His fingers traced the thin welts crisscrossing her breasts, pinching her taut nipples.
Lydia closed her eyes and fought not to cry again. His chest hairs were rough against her cheek, his chest moving rhythmically with his breathing, his fingers caressing as if he had every right to touch her as and when he liked.
Which, Lydia knew with a feeling of dismay and utter helplessness, he did.
Chapter 9
Lydia pressed her thighs hard against the horse’s flanks, easing the animal into a gallop so rapid and smooth it felt as if they were flying. Wind whipped through her loose hair and buffeted hot and sweet against her skin. Her body flowed with the horse’s rhythmic movements as if they were one, galloping unfettered over the lush grounds. A sense of wild freedom streamed through her blood, driving away all despondent moods.
When they began to near the edge of the swamplands she reined in Sugarfoot and turned. Gabriel was approaching astride Pirate, his body moving with a similar ease as the horse galloped towards them. He reined in beside her with a smile, his green eyes bright with the exhilaration of a good ride, his dark hair windswept.
Lydia looked at him, wondering not for the first time how such a seemingly kind man could ever possess a criminal past. Without thinking she reached out to brush away a dried leaf that clung to his thick hair.
‘I’ll race you back, but you don’t get a head start this time,’ he said.
‘Okay, but…’ Lydia wanted him to answer a question that had been lingering at the back of her mind for some time, but she couldn’t gather the courage to voice it.
‘But what?’ Gabriel asked.
Lydia shook her head, pulling her gaze from his intent expression. Sugarfoot stomped and snorted restlessly beneath her, and she patted the horse’s neck in a soothing motion. ‘Nothing,’ she muttered.
She shifted in the saddle with a bit of discomfort, as the welts on her thighs and bottom continued to pulse dully. She had wondered about the wisdom of attempting to ride only a few days after enduring the bite of Preston’s whip, but nothing would keep her from the freedom of riding. She had so few moments of liberty that she was determined to make the most of each and every one. A good long horse ride never failed to do wonders for her spirits, and somehow her bizarre life in hiding seemed strangely gratifying when she was galloping unhindered over the plantation grounds. Riding Sugarfoot also seemed to hearten her soul, filling her with the knowledge of hope and the ever-present reminder that she was extremely fortunate to be sheltered at the plantation. It made her remember that this erotic use of her body was almost a privilege compared to what she would have endured beyond the boundaries of La Lierre et le Chêne.
‘You okay?’ Gabriel asked, noticing her little wince of discomfort, and Lydia nodded, secretly rather enjoying the mild stinging sensations that tantalized her bottom. ‘Ready, then?’ he asked, and Lydia nodded, lightly digging her heels into Sugarfoot’s flanks. ‘On the count of three – one, two…’
With a mischievous chuckle she propelled the horse forward before Gabriel finished the count, laughing at his surprised expression as Sugarfoot began pounding back towards the stables.
‘You’ll pay for that, Lydia!’ Gabriel shouted behind her as he urged Pirate after them with increasingly rapid strides.
Pirate was a more powerful horse than Sugarfoot, so it wasn’t long before he overtook them, galloping smoothly past, and Gabriel and Pirate had already reached the stables by the time Lydia and Sugarfoot caught them up, reining in to a snorting trot.
Lydia grinned at the angry expression on Gabriel’s face as he jumped from his horse and stomped towards her. He was frowning darkly, his eyebrows drawn menacingly together.
‘I was just joking,’ she said hastily as a pleasurable little glimmer of fear sparked inside her. ‘Really, I mean, you have to give me a head start if you—’
She shrieked as he reached up to grab her around the waist and pull her from the saddle. For an instant she fell against him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her eyes level with his mouth. Her heart began to thud wildly, and not just from the exertions of the ride.
‘You little cheat,’ Gabriel said. ‘You�
�ll definitely pay for that.’
Lydia shrieked again when he hauled her over his shoulder in one fluid movement so that her torso was swaying against his back and her legs were pinned to his front.
‘Wait!’ she yelped, pummeling his rear ineffectually with her fists. ‘I’m sorry! I was joking!’
Without a word Gabriel strode towards the stables, reaching up once to give her a firm spank on the buttocks.
‘Ow!’ Lydia squirmed, trying to escape his grip even as something within her thrilled at the realization that she could not. ‘You know, you men are all the same. A girl gets the better of you and you turn completely Neanderthal… ow!’
Gabriel entered the stables and proceeded to dump Lydia unceremoniously onto a pile of scratchy, sweet-smelling hay. He pulled the stable doors closed and stood before her, looking not a little menacing with his hands planted on his hips and that scowl still darkening his expression.
‘Remove your boots,’ he ordered, his voice laced with intimidation. ‘And turn around.’
Lydia scrambled backwards, her feet slipping on the hay. A deliciously apprehensive excitement surged in her as she met his emerald gaze. Although he certainly looked threatening, there was a glimmer of amusement in the depths of his eyes that aroused her even more than his vexation. The knowledge that he was feigning anger, that he wouldn’t truly hurt her, stimulated her every nerve. So she hastened to take off her riding boots, tossing them to the side.
‘Turn around,’ Gabriel repeated, snapping his fingers with a sound that echoed against the warped wood of the stables, and with a sharp intake of breath she turned onto her hands and knees to present him with her rounded backside clad in a tight pair of jodhpurs that stretched deliciously over her full globes.
‘Pull them down.’ A husky timbre entered his voice, and Lydia unbuttoned the trousers and tucked her fingers underneath the elastic waistband, her breathing short and hard. Their earlier sense of fun dissipated rapidly within the confines of the stable. The smell of hay, horses and rotting wood invaded Lydia’s senses like a potent aphrodisiac.
Slowly she eased the jodhpurs over her hips, squirming slightly as she did, exposing the reddened cushions of her bottom in the dim shafts of sunlight penetrating the rickety building. Riding never failed to stimulate her incessantly seething arousal, and today was no exception as her sex pulsed hotly.
She waited with increasing tension as Gabriel approached and brushed a hand lightly over her welted flesh. ‘What did he use?’ His voice was oddly strained.
‘I don’t know, some horrible thing with a bunch of leather strips.’
‘Does it still hurt?’
‘A little.’ Lydia’s teeth sank into the plumpness of her lower lip as Gabriel began tracing the uncomfortable marks with his fingers. He pulled her jodhpurs down further to examine the marks on her shapely thighs. Feeling his fingers brushing against her skin elicited a curl of arousal deep in her loins, her eyes closed when his hand touched another welt, and she experienced a strange desire to feel him pressing them harder, to make them really sting.
‘What else did he do?’ Gabriel asked.
Lydia was mildly surprised that he didn’t know, and blushed when she heard the words coming from her mouth.
‘He… he cuffed me to his bed. He made me tell him about losing my virginity. Then he fucked me, of course. And he’s forced me to sleep with him for the past three nights.’
She shuddered at the memory of waking several times a night to feel the weight of Preston’s arm across her front, the bulk of his body next to her, his leg thrown possessively over hers. Even in sleep she seemed to be constantly aware of his presence.
And this morning he instructed her to fuck him before they climbed out of bed, while the previous two mornings he insisted she suck him to orgasm, both acts serving their intended purpose of further shaming her.
Lydia turned to look at Gabriel, who was watching her with an unreadable expression.
‘That’s the worst,’ she confessed, her voice low. ‘Actually sleeping with him – worse than the humiliations, and worse than the punishments. Isn’t that strange?’
Gabriel shook his head slowly. ‘No, it’s not strange.’
Lydia looked at him for a long minute, her heart beginning to pound as his hands lingered on her exposed buttocks. She couldn’t bring herself to ask him why only Preston and Kruin had fucked her. Gabriel, by contrast, hadn’t made the slightest move to indulge himself in that particular manner.
‘Do you want to…?’ Lydia’s voice tapered off weakly; she still could not summon the courage to ask him. With a desperate sigh she lowered her forehead onto her crossed arms, her eyelids drifting closed as the sweet smell of hay invaded her sense of smell. She was already perspiring from the humidity and the exertion of the ride, and droplets of sweat began to trickle between her breasts and along the length of her spine. Despite her aversion to sleeping naked with Preston, the contact with his body when combined with her incessant simmering arousal had put her in a state of suspended erotic urgency; one that she desperately wanted Gabriel to satisfy.
She shifted a little as if in invitation, her curved hips gyrating sexily. The sweep of her upper body pushed her bottom further outward, the full orbs parting a little to reveal her tiny puckered entrance and the moist petals of her labia.
‘Did you control yourself?’ Gabriel asked.
‘Yes,’ Lydia murmured, not without an odd glimmer of pride. ‘I did.’
‘Good.’
The jodhpurs around Lydia’s knees were constricting her movements and increasing the arousal simmering in her loins. The hay scratched rather deliciously at her knees and thighs, and she could almost feel the hot burn of Gabriel’s eyes as he looked at her half-naked, prone form.
She gasped suddenly, her limbs stiffening with shock when she felt the unmistakable touch of his tongue flicker between her thighs. She tried to rise onto her hands in some strange need to protest, but he placed a strong hand on her lower back and pushed her gently down again.
‘Don’t move,’ he ordered, and Lydia pressed her forehead against her arms, quaking with aroused anticipation and stunned gratitude as he held her bottom cheeks in his hands, opening her fully for the penetrating quest of his lips and tongue.
A whimper of sheer delight escaped her throat as she felt the tip of his tongue begin to stroke the humid folds, sliding with heavenly ease up one side to circle around her juicy bud before descending the other. His mouth sealed passionately over her bared sex, his fingers digging with increasing force into the pale, trembling buttocks uplifted so temptingly before him.
Lydia’s sensitive flesh pulsed in response to the wet contact, her nerves tightening with urgency. The sensation of Gabriel’s hands holding her so fully exposed augmented both her arousal and sense of submission, only this time she had no desire to cover herself. She realized it was the first time in ages she had indulged in erotic activities that weren’t colored by fear and shame.
‘Ooooh…’ she cried out with pleasure when his tongue delved into the taut hole of her sex, his saliva mingling with her female emissions. ‘Gabriel, oh yes, that’s so good… so good… please…’ Unlike with Preston, her plea was one of natural, lustful encouragement. Lydia pushed her hips back as if to impale herself upon his agile tongue, and he obliged by thrusting deeper into her, her inner flesh clenching around him with urgent greed.
Gabriel muttered something low in his throat as he flicked his tongue with leisurely enjoyment in and out of her body before sliding it back around her labia. Lydia muttered gasping little cries, her body jerking in reaction when he closed his lips around the tight sphere of her feminine core while slipping a finger deep into her elastic passageway.
Lydia’s thighs quivered with the effort of maintaining charge of her climax; with Gabriel pleasuring her so willingly, she wanted from the depths of her being not to d
isappoint him by reaching her summit before he had granted her permission.
She started in surprise when a forefinger trailed against the furrow of her bottom before pausing at the opening of her anus, and her spine tingled with a bolt of excitement when he pressed his finger against the tiny fissure until her muscles relaxed to allow him access. She began panting, her mind awash with nothing but rapture as Gabriel expertly stimulated her most intimate regions. His finger moved easily back and forth into her gripping sheath, while his lips and tongue continued to work with hungry insistence at the slick flower of her sex.
Lydia moaned low and deep, her hands clutching at fistfuls of hay as she fought to succumb to the carnal pressure spreading throughout her body. Perspiration dripped from her skin, dampening her white shirt and the cotton bra she wore when riding. Her nipples pressed with delicious friction against the damp material, inducing the salacious desire to feel Gabriel’s adept fingers plucking the stiff crests.
In an audacious but meager substitute, Lydia ripped at the buttons of the shirt and tugged down the cups of the bra to allow her breasts to spill into her own eager hands, and lowering her brow into the fragrant hay she began massaging the succulent globes, twisting the nipples between her fingers to feel the shocks of pleasure that traveled clear down to her toes.
‘Gabriel,’ she gasped in desperation as her body began to tremble with the need for relief. ‘Oh Gabriel, please… I can’t…’
He lifted his mouth from her sex only long enough to huskily consent to her release before closing his lips around her clitoris again and sucking as he pressed two fingers of his other hand into her wet sex. Lydia could suspend her rapture no longer, and one more tormenting rasp from Gabriel’s tongue sent her spiraling over the edge into an exhilarating collision of stars. She cried out with both happiness and carnal ecstasy as he affectionately milked every last rich sensation from her pulsing core.
To Disappear Page 12