by Lacy Danes
Icy smooth stone was pressed to her fingers, and she closed them about the object, her gaze snapping back to his. He turned abruptly and strode to one of the males who remained.
A white marble dildo, half a palm’s breadth wide and as long as her forearm, lay in her grasp. Her fingers ran across the frosty smooth surface. Rupert stared at her as he passed to position the man as his rook on the board’s far corner.
Her body trembled. In her mind, Rupert’s hands eased the cold hard prick into her until the tip pressed to her womb. Rupert’s hands…Her chest tightened. Could Rupert be the man who liked to watch?
He returned to her and dragged his fingers along the scar on her belly to her hip. The muscles of her torso tensed and jumped. Oh indeed, her body knew that touch. Or did she? The control that oozed from him was opposite from what she experienced in the entry. Yet, that power shook her just as much.
When he placed his hand on the small of her back, spirals of warmth radiated from the contact up her spine and her lungs locked. Yes, indeed it was he. That soothing heat.
Her body remembered and the sensation gentled her. The strength of the irrational emotion was unexpected and a bit frightening too. Was she sure? Or could she be so hungry for a potent man’s touch that any man who touched her would do?
She wanted to turn around to look him in the eye and see if that same intensity sparked his soul. Her heart beat through her limbs.
He guided her to the closest corner black square, placing her next to a knight, a man of equally impressive stature as Rupert’s, and behind a woman, a pawn, who she stood a head above.
His hand left her, and he strode to the last woman who remained—a pretty, short, auburn-haired girl. Handing her a riding crop and a length of leather, he placed her on the board as his queen.
Cora narrowed her eyes. If Rupert was her watcher, shouldn’t he place her in that important position, his queen on the board?
Her body might have been wrong. Damn and blast. If only he would speak, she would know for sure. The last man, a big stocky fellow, became his king.
Rupert strode down the line of pawns and stopped in front of the woman who stood before her. His hands ran down the woman’s hips. Squeezing, his long fingers slid up the insides of her thighs, then disappeared, reappearing at her sides about breast height. He leaned in, his head dipping below the woman’s shoulder, and suckling sounds ensued.
Cora stood on her tiptoes, but blast it, all she could see was the dark hair atop Rupert’s head. The woman groaned, her head tilted back and her shoulder blades shuddered.
Her teeth clenched and she tore her gaze away as envy seared through her. She wanted his lips on her skin, sucking her breasts.
As his head rose, green dilated eyes met hers and he winked. Winked. Good Lord, he possessed no compassion. He damn well knew he affected her, and he taunted her with it.
He continued up the row of pawns, sucking and pinching each woman until they groaned. Caressing and rubbing each man’s prick until they grew stiff. Then he came down the back line.
What would those graceful hands do to her when he touched her? The carnal animal in her cried out for his hands on her body, to control her as he so effortlessly did everyone on the board. Her muscles grew tense with desire for a man she didn’t know. How terrifying. Two men? Hmmm…
His brother aroused his power pieces first and now ended with his pawns. Placed in the far corner of the board, she would be the last piece Rupert touched. Was that significant?
She tried to behold anything that made his actions toward her seem like that of the man in the hall. There was nothing. Foolish girl wishes. You are certainly no longer a girl.
Did she think that finding the man who touched her soul would be that easy?
He approached her, his eyes heavy, pupils dilated in arousal and a happy cat-that-ate-his-cream grin on his face. Any man would be elated to have a harem of men and women to order about and touch sexually. She rolled her eyes at him, and he chuckled as he stepped behind her. Her breath caught at the deep tone and extreme closeness of his body. He had not stepped behind any other piece on the board. His steamy hands squared her shoulders to face the opposite team.
She imagined his gaze running down the length of her spine, stopping to caress the swells of her bottom. He inhaled a choppy breath as his fingers slid down her collarbone to the top of her breasts, then flexed.
Gooseflesh raced up her arms, and he wrapped his hold about her shoulders. Fingers slipping lower, he pinched her straining nipples.
Those hands. She sighed.
The scent of warm smoky honey slid through her nose, and she groaned deep and low in her chest. Warm breath wafted her ear.
“Who am I, Cora?”
A wave of heat washed over her at the sound of the deep voice that had caressed her so thoroughly in the hall.
Without a doubt, it was he. The smell, the sound, the touch, all the same.
His hands slid farther down her stomach to the mound of hairs that covered her sex.
“Yes.”
“Who am I?” His finger lightly pulled, pinching the hairs.
“Mr. Rupert Roland, the wicked scoundrel.” Who knows exactly how to touch me. Yes, oh yes. Her knees weakened. She wanted this man.
“How astute. Is there more?”
One of his long fingers slid into her slick folds, and she whimpered, holding herself still.
“N-no.” Oh indeed, a lot more. Her eyes fluttered shut. He pressed his erection against her bum, and a groan puffed past her lips.
“Do you desire me, Cora?”
Her insides quivered. Couldn’t he tell? She was a puddle on the floor. Trembling gooseflesh primed her skin. His finger circled her clitoris, and her hips arched into his hands.
“You need to ask?” A gush of wetness seeped from her body, showing him without words. She moaned.
Grunting, he trailed his tongue down the line of her neck. He slid his fingers from her tingling flesh and, trailing them back up her stomach, released her.
She turned her head toward him, and he ran a finger coated with her cream across her lips. Her tongue slid out and lapped her scent from him. His eyes flashed with desire at the sight. He turned and left her to make his opening move.
She closed her eyes as chills of excitement chased up her arms. Not only would this man watch her, but he would also put her in situations he desired. Her skin dewed with moisture.
What would the wicked Mr. Roland have her do to titillate him?
Rupert’s muscles clenched hard as a rock. His heart beat triple time, a reaction he had not experienced because of a woman in ages.
She desired him. Knowing who and what he was.
So why had she turned him down so many times? He had not changed in physical appearance…well, except for a bit of gray in the sides of his hair.
It was a question he needed answered. None of her being here tonight made sense to him. The fear he glimpsed on her face on occasion compounded his bafflement. With her strength, her experience, this game, one of the club’s milder events, should be tame to her. He hated to see those heart-shaped lips frown. A pout—that was one thing, but a genuine frown made his gut clench.
His brother stood across from him and nodded for him to start the game.
Concentrate, chap. Not only do you want to win, you need to figure out how to get Cora into a taking position.
If he maneuvered her right, he just may get to see her pleasure more than one of his brother’s pieces. Rupert strode to the center of the board and leaned down to the pawn in front of his king.
“Move two spaces forward. Rub your hand over your cock but do not spend.”
The pawn strode forward to the center of the board; once there, the pawn’s hand slid up the silky surface of his prick. Rupert turned to watch Cora.
She stood watching his every move. A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed hard. Her desire shone in her eyes and in the pretty blush that tinged her skin.
&nb
sp; He couldn’t believe how beautiful she was. More so than he remembered. Maybe it was because he’d never seen her naked or touched her. No…At eighty, she would be more beautiful than most silly debuts.
He couldn’t wait to see her face as he moved her into play and forced her to spend. His heart beat a maddening tattoo beneath his chest, his cock stiffer than any erection he had experienced in years.
But who? Emma and Kit were both pieces on his brother’s board. Either one of them would do, but having her fuck the black king in a checkmate would be the ultimate win and a sight to feed his vigor.
His muscles clenched and he rolled his shoulders, imagining her light moans and a spine-tingling scream when she spent. A pearl of arousal drizzled from his cock, dampening his pants. Randy, chap. He chuckled to himself.
Well, it was too soon to get lusty for an act that may never happen. He would have to see what opportunities arose.
5
Watching human chess was erotic, so exciting. Cora shifted her stance to get a better view. The control that eased from the players stole her breath. They so effortlessly moved each piece into play. No one hesitated. Not one piece considered the order to self-gratify and arouse themselves demeaning as they were placed into play. They all respected the players and wished to do nothing but what they were told.
Already she had learned Rupert liked to watch the pleasure, the emotions of the pieces through their expressions. If she paid attention, she would learn so much more about how to pleasure this man.
“This is your first time?”
The whisper came from beside her. She glanced at the tall fair knight. He remained facing forward as if he said nothing. She turned back to the game.
“If the master stared at me that way, I would leave the board on my knees to pleasure him and forgo the game.”
“Pardon?” She regarded him.
“Master Rupert. He studies you. Your face, your body.” He remained facing forward as he spoke.
He was right. She shouldn’t move either.
She glanced at Rupert. He studied the board intently. Turning back to the board, she peered from the corner of her eye. Just as the knight had said, Rupert’s gaze lingered on her face and then traveled her body. His lips curved into a seductive smile when he caught her gaze.
“He can’t keep from ogling you. He enjoys watching. I can’t imagine why he is playing.” The knight’s gaze traveled down her. “Then again…” His head snapped back forward.
“Do you always play?”
“Yes, on Lord Brummelton’s board. But this time I couldn’t resist being on Rupert’s. To do as he wishes.”
“Oh.” She was just another moth snared in his light.
“Not that we have an affinity. We don’t. It is just…well, look at him. He is nonesuch.”
“Quite,” she mumbled. He certainly had that presence about him, and he quickly became important to her too. But if he had all this, and so many willing to please him, could she hold his interest?
What an utterly maddening thought. This was for one night, so why did it matter?
Rupert walked to a female pawn that stood in the middle of the board. Cora’s body was so aware of him she swore his steamy breath puffed her ear as he whispered his command to the pawn. The pawn sidestepped in front of the black male pawn that his brother first moved and dropped to her knees. A smile pulled at Cora’s lips. The futter was to begin.
Removing his hands from his staff, Rupert’s pawn sucked the hard erection into her mouth. Her lips fanned out over his stiffness, and the sides of her cheeks sunk in and out. His head tossed back as he groaned, lacing his fingers into her hair.
The breaths of the pieces who fondled themselves labored and muscles clenched as the woman’s sucking noises became louder and wetter.
“You would think those in play would spend at the sight,” she whispered to the knight beside her.
“Most of us have played for years and know to enjoy the slow build of pleasure. By the end, the taking will last a few strokes and the opponent’s piece will fall.”
Amazing. They played this game for years and she, who made her living in futter for years, never knew such a game existed.
Men and women stood around the edges of the room watching the play unfold. Rupert stared at the couple in the center, his fists clenched and a furrow between his brows. He should be enjoying this, but he concentrated on the game, not on the pleasure of watching these people mate. That was the reason he didn’t play. She understood that now. He wanted to savor the sights in front of him while playing, his attention focused on the game.
The furrow between his brows grew deeper as he assessed his brother’s pieces. She wanted to run her tongue up that indentation and rub her breasts in his face. To taunt him and brazenly break his control, his concentration, to release that animal who caged her between his legs in the hall.
She closed her eyes as the sensations flooded back to her full force. Large muscular thighs pressed her legs together, his ballocks caressing her legs with each press of his burly prick into the crease of her thighs. Her nipples hardened to stiff painful peaks and her womb pulsed.
Why hadn’t he entered her? She’d asked him. No, begged. Her head grew light. Control. In neither of these situations she had control. Amazing how she had missed the similarities.
Rupert played this game devoid of all feeling, but he did have passion. The heat of his desire was in the spark in his amazing green eyes. Just one look from him set her whole body quivering like jelly.
A grin turned her lips. She would tie him up and make him say why he did not taken his pleasure as he licked her curls.
No! She shook her head. That was the old her. The new her would simply ask, “Why did you not take your pleasure in my body, Rupert?” And if he wished to answer, he would.
Just as she would stand here for the rest of the game and do as he wished. Her skin tingled. She stood here to please him. Her head spun in the heady pleasure of it all. No decisions. Wonderful warmth slid through her.
A loud cry came from the male pawn as he spilled his seed. The woman sucked off his prick, and he walked from the board to recover next to Rupert.
Rupert’s brother’s move came next. He strode to his male bishop, leaned in, and whispered his command. The bishop wrapped his length of black silk about his hands and strode diagonally to Rupert’s knight. Tying the knight’s wrists behind the tall woman’s neck, he stuck his fingers into his mouth and removed them wet with spit. He ran his slick fingers down the crack of her bum and pushed them inside. The woman whimpered.
Cora gaped. Never had she expected to see a man of this caliber bugger a woman.
One of the servants strode onto the board with a bronze pitcher. Holding it over the bishop’s prick, he poured thick golden oil over the erection. The bishop rubbed his hand back and forth over his phallus to coat himself to a glimmer. Then with tiny thrusts, he slid his hard member into the knight’s heart-shaped bum. The knight cried out and shifted her stance to adjust to the pressure. He grasped her hips and large male thigh muscles shook with the force of their passion.
Oh my! Cora’s teeth snagged her lip as heat shot through her stomach to the flesh of her sex and bum. Wetness slid down her leg, and she closed her eyes. Once Rupert moved her, a puddle of her cream would remain on this spot. Her eyes fluttered back open and she groaned.
Fully seated in the knight’s pucker, the bishop reached around her body and frigged her with his hands. Pulling back his hips, he buggered the knight, her fleshy bum jiggling in waves as their bodies collided. They both shuddered, muscles straining as they tried to remain balanced and joined in the upright position.
Too much time passed since a man desired her that way—the sensation immensely pleasurable, the pressure, easing way to fullness, followed by intense sensation. Oh, she never had the pleasure with men like these and never in the standing position. Would Rupert enjoy it? She would find out all his pleasures. She bit her lip as her heart tigh
tened. Would he be interested in her for more than one night?
She shot him a quick glance and a startled gasp passed her lips. Matthew stood next to Rupert in deep conversation.
He turned his gaze to the board, his black eyes catching her startled expression. She gasped. Blast it. Whatever you do, don’t turn away. Stand your ground. Her muscles strained with the force to turn, but her will won.
Matthew’s lips curved up in the smile that had turned her knees to jelly so many times in the past. Her fists clenched. How dare he use that smile on her now. Anger at all the dreams he shattered flooded her veins. She couldn’t stop him from gazing at her. But to use that smile…Her teeth ground together. Her hand itched to slap that grin from his face.
“Ahhhh.”
The sound pulled her attention back to the play. The knight spent with a high-pitched cry as the bishop heaved and came up her bum. A servant man scurried to them with a bowl of water and cloth.
Rupert paced the side of the board, assessing the game. His long legs encased in black trousers rolled up to his calves showed beautiful hairy ankles and wide masculine feet.
The picture he created set her stomach fluttering. She longed for a man like him—casual, strong, controlled, but kind. Above all, his passion called to her. The way his muscles shook when he touched her. Tingles raced her skin.
He glanced at her and a wicked smile curved his lips. That smile…She would give anything to have that smile flashed at her before he possessed her each night.
Rupert winked, then strode past her to his queen. He whispered to her. The emotions that coursed through Cora frightened her. How could she feel this bone-deep connection to a man whom she had barely spoken to two dozen times? She had come here tonight hoping to put her past behind her and to engage in wicked acts with a man she desired once more. Could she have found more? Her chest tightened. That was a scarier thought.
The queen strode to the bishop who had just finished buggering the knight and washed his member in a copper bowl one of the three eunuchs held.
Where did they find these men? She would have to remember to ask Rupert. If there ever was time to ask. For all she knew, he would watch her, find her too old or not arousing, and decide to take his queen home.