by Lexi Post
How strange. It was as if they strolled along the street, Victorian fashion, and had not just passed a couple about to make love.
The woman on the bed pulled away from her husband’s fingers, causing her nipples to stretch, and her breathing increased. The husband let go and shook his finger at his wife, who promptly took it into her mouth. His expression changed from playful to lustful in a heartbeat. The woman scraped her teeth along his finger before releasing him. She turned, repositioning herself. Now she faced Rena. She sat on the bed and spread her legs wide, or rather her thighs were wide as there were no body parts lower. Her husband removed his tails, cravat and shirt, and knelt next to her.
As the woman opened her labia to show her clit, warmth flooded Rena’s body with excitement and embarrassment, but she couldn’t have looked away unless the room was on fire. Unfortunately, she was on fire.
The husband removed his wife’s hand and at her pout, replaced it with his own, spreading the folds, pulling them back until his wife’s hard nub was visible as well as her opening below. With his other hand, he presented one finger and brought it under his wife’s leg and up. This gave Rena a clear view as he sank the finger as far as it would go into his wife’s pale pussy.
“Oh.” Rena started at the sound of her own voice. Already wet between her legs, she squirmed. It would be too easy to lie back on the couch and play with herself, but not in front of these people…ghosts…whatever.
The man pulled out his finger, added another and sank them deep inside before pulling them half out and back in. At the new invasion, his wife lay back on the bed, her legs still over the edge.
Rena’s attention was distracted by another couple meandering into the room. They were dressed in similar fashion, but the woman wore a hat with a feather and had dark hair. The two appeared to chat as they strolled through, though no sound emerged. Then the brunette noticed the couple on the bed. She had a brief conversation with her husband, and they redirected their stroll to the settee next to Rena’s fainting couch.
Rena wondered if she would need the couch for its stated purpose at the rate things were progressing.
As the new couple sat, they kissed, but the wife kept her eyes on the pair on the bed. Her husband reached inside her scooped neckline and pulled out one breast to tweak with his fingers.
Rena’s breasts ached as her own nipples turned painfully hard. She closed her eyes, blocking out the scenes before her, but when she opened them again, the husband on the bed moved his hand to circle his wife’s clit. Slowly, he used two fingers to penetrate her at the same time. Her hips pressed into his hand as she reached out to grasp the silken sheets. She opened her eyes and stared at Rena.
It was as if she participated in their intercourse by watching. Squirming on her own couch, she pulled her t-shirt down a little farther, hoping the wetness between her legs had not leaked onto it.
The woman’s eyes closed as her husband stroked in and out while increasing his rhythm on her hard nub.
The couple next to her were enjoying themselves as well. The man now had the woman’s skirt hiked to her waist as his hand buried between her legs and his mouth suckled on the nipple held aloft for him by the gown. His lady continued to watch the couple on the bed, licking her lips and panting as her husband played with her.
Rena wasn’t quite sure how she found herself watching two couples having sex, but there was no way Bryce would have approved. She should be ashamed of herself. Bryce would be. She was too hot and ready to be wife material.
She returned her gaze to the couple on the bed just as the lady came. Rena imagined a high-pitched sound as the blonde screamed, her whole body shaking with her passion. Her husband removed his hands from her and dropped his pants as she lay panting. His long, hard cock stood straight before him. He rolled his wife over and, pulling her up by the waist, set her into the doggy position.
Now the couple was in profile, and Rena couldn’t stop watching as the husband found his wife’s cunt and slid his cock inside. The woman threw her head back as he pulled out and pushed in again. The next time he drew out, his wife pulled away and slammed back into him. He grabbed her hips to control the rhythm as if he knew she wanted to climax immediately, but he wouldn’t let her. He reached one hand under his wife and tugged on a nipple. She went wild. Soon they were both out of control, their sexual desires rampant. He grasped his wife’s shoulders and pounded his hips against her ass, his cock visible as it slid in and out, gleaming with his wife’s juices.
Within minutes he had thrown his head back, the muscles in his chest tightening while his hips stayed glued to his wife.
Rena’s own pussy throbbed with wanting as she gripped the edge of the fainting couch. She’d never seen someone else make love before, at least not in person. She glanced at the couple next to her. The woman’s head had fallen back, both breasts were hanging over her neckline and the man licked between her legs.
It was all so erotic, so hot. She needed to go to her room and come. She looked back to see if the couple on the bed were finished and her gaze collided with Synn’s. He leaned against the archway of the room, breathtakingly handsome, with one eyebrow raised.
Oh, shit.
Watching Rena become excited had Synn’s cock growing to twice the size he remembered it ever being. He’d entered the Voyeur Room earlier, before noticing her presence, and dematerialized just in time. He’d seen hundreds of Eve and Jonathan performances, though they always made him a bit uncomfortable. Jonathan made love to his wife, instead of having sex like Victoria and Mathew on the couch. His lovemaking was too intimate for the Pleasure Rooms.
The last place Synn expected to find Rena was in the Blue Room after midnight. His hopes had risen at her continued presence, but though it was apparent she had experience, it could not have been very adventurous. Her blushes were many and she did nothing to relieve her own growing lust. Still, watching her as she stared, hearing her breathing increase, smelling her musky desire mixed with the tartness of the scent she wore, and knowing her quim was wet with need, had him excited in a new way. He had to retreat to a safer distance, unsure he could keep himself transparent while becoming so hard. He was glad he had because from the look on her face, he was back to being solid again, and she was mortified.
This could work to his advantage. He held out his arm to her, much as he had earlier in the day. As she rose, Eve motioned for her to stay, but he shook his head. Eve gave up and Rena shyly linked her arm in his. He couldn’t help his smirk. “Are you ready for bed now?”
She nodded, refusing to look at him.
He wanted to ask if she was ready to come, but that answer was already clear. More important, was she ready for the Pleasure Rooms? He needed her to go through each one. The Blue Room was the Voyeur Room, the beginner’s room. How the bloody hell would he get her through the other six? Perhaps the fact she had begun the pleasure journey on her own proved her potential.
As they ascended the stairs, he could see her mind working. Was she thinking about how she would make herself come tonight? He needed her desperate to orgasm in order to get her through the next room. To want it so much, she’d do anything.
What a bloody fix. Why couldn’t a couple have braved these walls? Then again, as he glanced down at her profile, her button nose barely reaching his shoulder, he found her far too interesting and enticing to give up.
“Synn?”
They had reached her bedroom and he had to let her go in. “Yes.”
She disengaged herself from his arm, but stood before him and stared into his eyes. “Why do you wear nineteenth-century clothes?”
Flummoxed, he remained silent, though his brain ran through a number of possible responses. “It makes the residents here more comfortable. Would you prefer I don modern wear?”
Distracted, she shook her head. “No. That’s fine. You can wear what you want.” She continued to stand in front of him, her eyes on his chest, her hand scrunching the side of her nightshirt.
He used his finger under her chin to bring her gaze to his. Her eyes were heavenly. He’d noticed their green tint earlier in the day, but it was their roundness with a slight narrowing at the corners that fascinated him. They made her appear to be interested in everything. “Did you have another question for me?” Perhaps, will you kiss me?
Her eyes widened. “Yes, I did. How did you start the fires for the light in that room? I didn’t see a propane tank.”
Damn, but she was a curious one. He hoped her curiosity extended much further. “I’ll give you a complete tour in the morning. There is little of the night left and I’m sure after the show you watched, you must be tired.”
Even in the dimness of the moonlight filtering into the hall from the floor-to-ceiling window, he could see her blush.
She turned away, embarrassed. “Yes. I’m very tired. See you in the morning.”
She didn’t give him a chance to respond, but opened the door to her room and escaped him.
He grinned at the closed door. The lady would need to find a better barrier than that if she wanted to keep him away.
Rena leaned back against the door, embarrassed heat still flooding her limbs. He saw her watching those couples. How long had he been there? A few minutes? How could she face him? She should have said something intelligent instead of asking random questions, but that had always been her way when faced with an embarrassing situation. Usually, it worked to take attention away from her predicament, but Synn hadn’t been detoured.
She walked to the bed and crawled in, leaving her t-shirt on. She’d need a barrier between herself and her sex dreams. After her fiancé had broken off their engagement, she expected her sexy dreams and wild urges to go away, and the last month at home in Maryland, they had. But ever since she stepped foot in Ashton Abbey, her libido had gone into overdrive. No, make that since she met Synn. Maybe it was his name. It was like a subconscious suggestion. Sin, Rena. Sin.
Or maybe it was the Abbey. Images of the loving couple on the bed and the couple on the settee came back to her in a rush. It was easy to block what she had seen when she was embarrassed down to the wrinkles in the bottoms of her feet, but back in her silky sheets, she couldn’t help but replay their actions in her mind.
Refusing to be sucked into any more erotic sensations, she forced her eyes closed and made a to-do list in her head for tomorrow. She would need to buy food and supplies. Synn could tell her the history of the ghosts. She wanted to know every ghost in the building, their names, their life stories. Oh, and she could name the rooms after them. The honeymoon suite would have to be named for the couple on the bed from tonight.
He had undressed his wife so tenderly. She loved how he kissed her, running his hands over her breasts and waist to eventually cup her between the legs.
Rena squirmed, but then a featherlight touch brushed her temple. It was gentle, like the husband downstairs, and she relaxed into her dream. She turned her head away as light kisses tripped around her ear, past her jaw, and along her neck. As her dream lover’s mouth found the hollow near her shoulder, he licked. His tongue tickled and she brought her shoulder to her ear.
The hand on her thigh surprised her. She almost opened her eyes, but refrained. If she wanted to orgasm, why not be brought to it by a dream lover?
As the hand stroked her leg, she took a deep breath, stepped over to the forbidden side and let her legs fall open. The hand hesitated before moving to her inner thigh, progressing upward until it reached the crease between her labia and her leg.
Her heart beat faster and her muscles stilled as she waited, anxious for the fingers to touch her pussy. She wanted them to play with her clit and stroke inside her like the man downstairs had done for his wife. But the hand remained motionless, and she moaned in frustration.
She needed to come. Couldn’t he feel her wetness? She lifted her hips from the bed, hinting at her willingness. Finally, the hand moved. Fingers deftly combing through every fold of flesh involved in the design of her pussy. She pressed her pelvis against those exploring digits, her breaths growing shorter. Then fingers found her clit and held it.
“Oh, yes.”
A finger slipped inside her opening and she bucked her hips against it. More. She needed more. She gripped the sheets in silent plea. The finger withdrew but then two entered her, spreading her more, invading her like the woman in the Blue Room. She ground upward, desperate as her heated body begged for release. The fingers moved out and in, in slow, tantalizing strokes, building the pressure between her legs, tightening her core.
“More,” she ground out. “Please.”
Three fingers entered her.
This is what she wanted, needed. She panted, bucking against the fingers moving inside her.
They disappeared.
Breathing hard, her pussy seeping, she opened her eyes and whined after her vanished dream. “Nooo. You can’t leave.” She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the dream to continue, but it didn’t. “Urgh.” Opening her eyes again, she sat up and lit her lantern. She peered into the darkness just in case it wasn’t a dream. She was alone. “Damn it.”
Synn stood frozen where he had landed, in the Purple Room beneath Rena’s bedroom. He took deep breaths to make his raging cock more comfortable, but it didn’t help. He glanced at the threesome on the stage before striding through the door into the Blue Room. Far enough from Rena’s room now, he dematerialized and floated straight up to the roof.
Stepping into the cool night air helped, a little. He leaned against an embrasure and studied the moon. A few more days and the ghosts would have more solidity to them along with their voices. This was the hardest time of the month when he had no one to converse with. Convincing a man or a couple to complete the Pleasure Rooms of the Masque would have been easier, but bringing Rena through the gantlet of sexual experiences would be much more pleasurable for him now that he had the need again.
If he was correct, her completion of the rooms would mean the spirits’ release. Since ghosts were essential to Rena’s plans, she would never allow that to happen. A nagging piece of conscience told him to tell her and let her decide, but he couldn’t risk it. They had waited over a hundred and fifty years to be released from their purgatory and Rena was the closest they had ever been. She simply had to do it.
Somehow, he would make it happen. He owed them that.
Chapter Three
Rena leaned with her back against one of the dining room windows and stared hard at her friend. “Val. I’m not going to let you tell me it can’t be done.”
“It can’t be done.”
She ground her teeth and stalked back to the table. Putting both hands on the dark wooden surface, she scowled. “I said, don’t tell me that.”
Valerie sat back in her chair and clasped her hands. “Look, I know how important this is, but unless we can find a way to drill through this stone that will take less time, there is no way you will be able to open until next year.”
“My finances won’t make it until next year. I have to get this place up and running by fall and I’d still be missing the entire summer tourist season.” She dropped her head in defeat, a familiar sensation.
Valerie placed her hand on hers. “I know, kid. I’m doing the best I can.”
“Can I help?”
Rena turned at the sound of Synn’s deep voice, loving the way it reverberated through her like a well-played bass cello, chasing away her inadequate reality. He stood leaning against the doorway of the dining room in a pair of tight, muscle-defining tan leggings and a loose white shirt. Very casual and very sexy.
At her inspection of his person, he returned the favor and she wished she’d left her hair down instead of in the clip she’d thrown it in. Her jeans and baggy sweatshirt didn’t exactly say “sexy” either.
Synn strode toward them to peer over Valerie’s shoulder at her list of tasks. “What is it that is causing you trouble?”
Valerie glanced at him, and Rena had to smack down a little gree
n envy bug at the attention he paid her best friend. She should be grateful. Valerie could be doing a dozen other jobs right now instead of helping her with this bed-and-breakfast project.
Valerie circled two items on her list and pointed with her pen. “These are our major projects, updating the running water and adding electricity. The last, the electricity, is huge. We have to drill conduits into these walls for every inch of line we need to feed, and that will take a lot of time. From the size of this place, I’d say there are literally miles of conduits we will need.”
Synn stepped back and looked at the walls. Without a word, he strode over to a brass candlestick set upon a built-in shelf and pulled it down. The wall moved.
She and Valerie scrambled to see inside.
Synn swept his arm toward the opening. “Will this help?”
Grabbing her flashlight off the table, Valerie walked through. Rena followed.
“We’ve got a freaking racetrack back here, Rena. Look at this!”
She did look. It was a narrow hallway built between two walls, yet in the distance she could see a small window where light spilled onto the floor. She stepped back and bumped into Synn. “Damn, but you’re quiet.”
He steadied her with a hand to her shoulder. “These are the servants’ corridors. They run throughout the Abbey. Can you use these as conduits?”
Valerie couldn’t have smiled wider. “Of course! We can run the lines high on the wall so the employees can still use these hallways. Then all we need to do is drill through the thickness of the walls to where you need the plugs and lights. It’s perfect.”
Rena dared to hope. “Really? Are you absolutely sure, Val?”
Her friend nodded.
“Yes!” She turned to Synn and gave him a hug. “Thank you so much. I owe you one.”
He quirked his brow. “I like the sound of that.”
A shiver raced across her skin and deep inside her chest. She still didn’t know what he thought of her little escapade the night before and didn’t have the guts to ask. Nope. Not knowing would save her all kinds of embarrassment. She glanced back at the hidden servants’ corridor. “Hey, wait a minute. Why would an abbey have a servants’ corridor? Don’t priests or monks take a vow of poverty or something?”