‘I don’t think I’ve ever been in love,’ he said carefully. ‘Not even when I was married.’
She turned her face up to look at him. ‘But in that case, how could you make love to me so tenderly?’
‘Because I find you sexually desirable, and I enjoy making love to beautiful women. I also like you, very much indeed.’
Marina wasn’t stupid; she understood that he was warning her. If their affair was going to continue then it would be on the clear understanding that it was a purely physical relationship, with no prospect of any long-term emotional commitment.
Only a couple of hours earlier she would have been shocked at the idea. Now it was different. Already her body was responding to his rhythmic stroking, and she knew that once wasn’t enough. She had to have him again; not today – she had to get back to Leyton Hall – but soon and on any terms.
‘I have to leave,’ she said quietly. ‘Annabel, the girl from London, might need to see me but I’d like to come and look at your litter again, if I may?’
Relieved at the way she’d taken his words, Matthew hugged her tightly, covering her neck and face with kisses. ‘I’d be very disappointed if you didn’t,’ he assured her.
As she was about to leave, an idea struck Marina. ‘What did you think of my daughter?’ she asked slowly.
Matthew’s eyes narrowed. ‘Your daughter?’
‘Yes, Tania. Don’t you think she’s attractive?’
‘Very.’
‘She seemed to find you attractive as well.’
‘Are you suggesting a threesome?’ he queried.
Marina flushed. ‘Certainly not! I was merely wondering whether, in the long term …’
He nodded, understanding how convenient such a marriage would be if Marina was anxious to keep him close to hand. ‘I don’t think she’d be very interested,’ he said slowly. ‘I’m told she likes slim, fair-haired young men like Crispian.’
Marina’s eyes widened in shock. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Nothing at all, except that I’m not slim and fair-haired.’
She took an anxious step towards him. ‘What have you heard? Tell me, I must know.’
He caught hold of her hands and kissed her again. ‘Marina, stop it. What do you think I might have heard?’
The touch of his lips on hers had already assuaged her anxiety. ‘Nothing,’ she said lightly. ‘I misunderstood.’
‘I wish I could run you back,’ said Matthew with a smile, ‘but somehow I think that might give the game away, don’t you?’
‘Well …’
‘Besides, I know you like walking,’ he added.
Marina nodded, wishing she’d never made up the lie.
‘You must try riding again,’ he suggested as he stood in the doorway. ‘If you went out riding it would increase the number of times we could meet. Besides, I’m told ladies find it very sexy.’
‘I don’t know,’ she said hesitantly.
‘You’ve got a man there who could teach you, haven’t you? Give it a go. Riding a horse with Chinese loveballs inside you is one of the most incredible sensations possible, or so one of my girlfriends told me.’
Between her thighs Marina felt a faint dampness beginning again, and she pressed her hands to her increasingly hot cheeks. ‘I really must go now, Matthew. It was wonderful. You’ll never know how much it meant to me.’
‘And to me,’ he assured her as he watched her walk away.
Once she’d gone he closed the door and poured himself a scotch. He’d enjoyed the encounter: her nervousness and lack of experience had been touching and he always enjoyed giving pleasure to women. All the same he knew that after time she would bore him, unless he could encourage her to experiment more.
If all the rumours were true her daughter wasn’t in the least averse to trying almost anything, but somehow he didn’t think her mother was the same. Surprisingly he had a sudden mental picture of the girl Annabel, and the way she’d looked at him the previous evening. He thought that later on he might see if she was interested, and if he could get Marina to join them then that would be even better.
‘A man can dream,’ he said aloud as he sipped at the whisky.
Annabel hadn’t had a chance to dream. She’d been busy all the morning jotting down copious notes about the rooms Lady Corbett-Wynne had wanted her to see. Her biggest problem was going to be incorporating her employer’s personal taste into Leyton Hall without losing its original atmosphere. Cream drapes and delicate furniture were all very well in their place, but that place certainly wasn’t the music room of Leyton Hall.
As she was finishing, Crispian came in through the front door. ‘Good morning,’ he said brightly. ‘Quite recovered this morning?’
Annabel nodded. ‘Yes, thank you.’
‘I’ve got something for you. A little memento of last night.’ He held out his hand and there, in the middle of his palm, lay the tiny copper ring that had encircled her clitoris in the stable.
Annabel felt a warm heaviness in her belly and struggled to keep her breathing even. ‘Thank you, Crispian, very thoughtful of you both,’ she responded, picking it up and slipping it into the pocket of her linen slacks.
‘What are you doing tonight?’ he asked.
‘Having an early night.’
‘Alone?’
‘I prefer to sleep alone,’ Annabel said coolly.
Crispian smiled. ‘If I joined you first you might sleep more soundly later.’
Annabel sighed. ‘You may be surprised to learn, Crispian, that I always sleep well.’
Crispian shrugged. ‘Only trying to be friendly. I thought, since we all got on so well last night, that you might not be averse to my company again.’
‘I’m not, but tonight I’d prefer to sleep. I’m sure Tania will keep you company if you get bored.’
‘I never get bored,’ Crispian assured her. ‘See you later then. I’ve got to spend the afternoon teaching the daughter of one of Pa’s friends to ride. Bloody boring but she’s going to be very rich one day and it will keep the old man quiet if he thinks I’m seriously looking for a suitable wife!’
Annabel couldn’t help smiling. It was impossible to dislike Crispian or to deny his potent sensuality, and despite her protests she had felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of another evening’s pleasure. Watching him walk away from her she had the pleasant suspicion that he hadn’t taken her refusal too seriously.
Chapter Five
LORD CORBETT-WYNNE WAS smiling too. He could think of nothing he’d rather be doing on such a lovely morning than riding through the Wiltshire countryside on his favourite bay gelding with a pretty groom alongside him, her shapely thighs gripping the sides of the piebald mare. He watched appreciatively as Sandra’s buttocks rose and fell against the saddle, and he thought to himself that she had one of the best seats he’d ever seen, in more ways than one.
Well aware of his approval, Sandra took care to use her thighs more than was strictly necessary as she urged the piebald on or slowed it a little, and all the time she was waiting for the move that she was certain would come. So certain in fact that she’d taken the precaution of slipping a few items in the pockets of her jodhpurs. Lord Corbett-Wynne had proved so enthusiastic at their first meeting that she was starting to wonder just how far she might be able to enslave him.
The previous evening she’d lain in bed imagining herself as Lady Corbett-Wynne but, in the cold light of day, had decided that was unrealistic. All the same, if she could keep him enslaved she might well progress from being just another of his girl grooms to a favoured mistress, which would suit her rather well as she was quickly tiring of the messy jobs she was required to do around the horses. Mucking out and rubbing down were starting to lose their appeal. She would quite happily settle for a small cottage somewhere near the Hall and regular visits from Lord Corbett-Wynne.
If her employer had known of her dreams he could have disillusioned her immediately. The whole attraction for him was the fact that she was a
groom. He loved the scent of hay and stables on his girls, and without their tight-fitting jodhpurs and rubber boots his senses would have been far slower to be aroused. As it was, he could barely control himself as he continued watching Sandra rising and falling in the saddle.
After a time they entered a copse and the horse track led them beneath some low-hanging trees and then out into a small clearing. It was a spot that Lord Corbett-Wynne knew very well. He pulled his horse up and dismounted. Sandra noticed that the horse immediately wandered off and started nibbling at the grass nearby, and she realised that this must be a regular stopping-off point for him.
‘Are we stopping?’ she asked with assumed surprise.
‘Thought we’d have a spot of lunch. You did pack the sandwiches in the saddlebags, I hope?’
Sandra swung a leg over her horse’s back and dismounted, making sure she gave him a very good view of her buttocks as she did so. ‘Of course, just as you asked.’
‘Good, good!’
The sun was shining down on them and Lord Corbett-Wynne decided that it would be better to sit beneath one of the horse chestnut trees and eat in the shade. Not that he was really hungry, at least not for sandwiches, but it was always difficult getting the girls to understand exactly what he wanted of them at this point. In fact, one or two of them never did enter into the spirit of the thing in the way he liked. He just hoped that Sandra wouldn’t disappoint him.
Well-primed by some of the other stable girls, Sandra felt fairly confident that she could make this the best lunch he’d ever had in the copse. The only difficulty lay in timing. She had to be sure that the moment was right before she changed from subservient employee to dominant female. She decided to test the ground.
‘I hope you’re not going to eat with dirty hands,’ she snapped suddenly.
Lord Corbett-Wynne’s mouth opened slightly in surprise, but then he felt a delicious thrill of excitement run through him and shook his head meekly. ‘Of course not,’ he murmured.
‘Wipe them on your handkerchief, then,’ continued Sandra, her own excitement surfacing now that she knew it was going to be all right. She watched as her employer took a clean white handkerchief out of his pocket, carefully licked it and then wiped it over his hands.
She held out the wrapped package of sandwiches. ‘Would you like something to eat now?’ she asked softly.
He nodded eagerly. ‘Yes!’
Sandra snatched the sandwiches away. ‘You didn’t say please. Haven’t you learnt any manners yet?’
Lord Corbett-Wynne felt his penis start to stir. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered, hanging his head.
‘You’ll be sorrier before I’ve finished with you,’ retorted Sandra, throwing the sandwiches to the ground. ‘Take off your trousers.’
For the first time her employer hesitated. Although secluded, the copse wasn’t on his land, and there was always the possibility of other people using the bridle path to reach it.
‘Hurry up,’ Sandra said irritably. ‘If you don’t do as I say you’ll have to go straight home.’
He didn’t hesitate any longer, but fumbled with the fastenings on his trousers, letting them fall to the ground and stepping out of them. Sandra nodded in satisfaction, but at the sight of the swelling in his Y-fronts she frowned. ‘What’s that?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised, but despite his words the swelling was increasing visibly.
With a sound of irritation Sandra drew a long piece of cord from her pocket. ‘Put your hands behind your back,’ she said fiercely. Again he hesitated, but when she turned as though to fetch the horses he quickly obeyed and he could feel his erection straining against the restricting underpants.
Sandra made him kneel on the ground and then fastened the other end of the cord around the tree trunk, leaving him on a leash about three-feet long. Once he was at her feet she caught hold of his hair, pulling his head up until he was staring up at her. ‘Now you know why you’re being punished, don’t you? It’s because you haven’t any manners, right?’
‘I forgot my manners,’ he agreed eagerly.
‘And you know you need to be punished?’
‘Yes! Yes!’ Lord Corbett-Wynne could hardly wait, but he was incredibly stimulated by Sandra’s skill at prolonging the game, and the waiting heightened all his senses. He only hoped he could control himself well enough.
Sandra bent down and very slowly unbuttoned his shirt, easing it off him with tantalising slowness until finally he found himself in nothing but his underpants as Sandra gently trailed her riding whip over his bare shoulders and across his naked stomach.
He was so hard now that it hurt, and when Sandra bent down and opened his underpants to release his erection he gave a gasp of relief. She looked at the purple tip, the veins standing out on the thick stem and felt a heady sensation of power rush through her. Dropping to her knees in front of him, she very casually started to take off her short-sleeved cotton top. As she peeled it over her head Lord Corbett-Wynne realised for the first time that she was naked beneath it, and at the sight of her breasts with the nipples already hard he thought that his pleasure was going to spill over.
Sandra watched him struggling to control himself; saw his abdominal muscles straining to subdue his excitement. When she thought that he’d mastered himself she took the rigid penis in her hands and then placed it between her breasts.
Lord Corbett-Wynne made a tiny sound, half-protest, half-pleasure, as he realised what she was going to do, and then he felt himself being massaged between the tight globes and heard Sandra’s breathing start to quicken with pleasure as she rolled her swelling flesh around his soft, velvet tip.
Lord Corbett-Wynne felt his testicles drawing up beneath him. Tiny pricking sensations started up beneath the head of his glans and he knew that if she didn’t stop quickly he would spill himself all over her and the fun would be ended.
As soon as his head started to go back and the tendons of his neck began to tighten, Sandra stopped the stimulation and rose to her feet, leaving her employer still kneeling with his huge penis standing up proud and hard.
‘You can’t have your pleasure until I’ve had mine,’ she said shortly. The tethered man made a strangled sound of protest, which she ignored, and then he had to watch as she stepped back until she was clearly in his line of vision. She pushed her jodhpurs down below her knees and he was forced to look at the tantalising sight of the snow-white G-string nestling between her sex-lips.
‘Pleasure me with your mouth,’ she instructed him, and then she moved slowly forward until she was standing over him and he lifted his head, desperate to inhale her delicate musky perfume and taste her glorious femininity. Sandra moved her G-string to one side and waited.
Lord Corbett-Wynne began by letting his tongue tickle the crevices of Sandra’s thighs until her legs began to tremble, then he pressed his mouth against her pubis and very lightly ran his tongue around the throbbing, soft tissue beneath. She felt her clitoris swelling and her body desperately wanted to feel his tongue against it, but when she moved herself into position his tongue refused to do as she wanted. Instead it moved lower and jabbed into her sex, drumming hard against the walls of the opening.
Sandra gasped and began to run her hands over her breasts, which were also screaming for stimulation. That was the only disadvantage of this game, her employer’s hands were tied and she had to fondle herself.
She was very damp now and he used his tongue to spread her secretions up and down her inner channel but still without touching the clitoris itself. Then, when she could bear it no more, Sandra heard herself shouting at him. ‘Move higher! Use more pressure!’ she screamed, totally lost in the glorious climax that she could feel building within her.
The bound man let his mouth fasten around the slippery little bud and started to suck, slowly at first but with increasing pressure until Sandra’s thighs moved to press tightly against either side of his face as her whole body began to quake. Keeping her clitoris firmly between his
lips, Lord Corbett-Wynne suddenly moved his head rapidly from side to side, almost knocking Sandra off-balance as her legs were forced to move as well.
Now the feelings were running out of control. Her nipples were hard peaks of desire, her belly felt tight and warm and every muscle in her body started to tense as the pressure built behind the imprisoned bud.
She felt herself shaking, felt the wonderful wet, warm sweetness of the imminent orgasm and yet, maddeningly, it still remained balanced on the edge. She tried to move herself around, to change the pressure and topple herself over the edge.
Her employer, though, was an expert, and knew perfectly well what she needed. Despite his desire for his own climax he was enjoying this brief moment of power as the groom shook frantically and made tiny sounds of despair as she trembled on the verge of satisfaction. Finally he released the nub from the relentless suction, curled the sides of his tongue around and then brushed almost imperceptibly the side of the tiny stem.
That final, feather-light touch was exactly what was needed and with an ear-splitting scream Sandra climaxed, pressing herself down on her employer’s face as her body went into a series of violent spasms.
When she was at last still, Lord Corbett-Wynne moved his head away and gratefully took in deep breaths of air. His own climax was once again dangerously near; he’d had to use all his self-control to avoid coming at the same time as Sandra and now all he wanted was his own satisfaction.
Sandra moved shakily away from him and glanced at his straining penis. ‘I think it’s time to see to you,’ she said briskly. ‘Is that what you’d like?’
‘Of course it is!’ snapped her employer, who was desperate for release.
Sandra’s eyes widened. ‘I hope I’m not going to have to punish you again,’ she said menacingly. If anything his erection stiffened further as he quickly apologised. No one had ever taken the game to such extremes before, and he wasn’t quite certain if he liked it or not, but his body didn’t seem to share his doubts.
‘That’s all right, then,’ murmured Sandra, and to her employer’s delight she wrapped her whip round the end of his erection and then bent her head. As he tensed in anticipation she moved back and looked thoughtfully at him.
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