The Erotic Dark

by Nina Lane

  “I haven’t seen him yet,” Gabriel said. “How did you do?”

  “It hurt like hell. But I did everything right. Even Kruin said I did well.”

  “Really?” He appeared rather impressed. “High praise, indeed.”

  Lydia smiled slightly at the memory. “I thought so, too.”

  He looked as if he wanted to ask her more about the incident, but then he nodded toward her sandals. “If you’re ready, breakfast is waiting.”

  Lydia slipped her feet into her sandals and followed him downstairs. The scents of crisp bacon, rich coffee, and buttery croissants drifted from the kitchen, causing Lydia’s stomach to rumble with hungry anticipation.

  She stopped on the staircase when she heard unfamiliar voices emerging from the solarium. Gabriel turned to look at her.

  “Who is that?” Lydia asked.

  “Just a few of the guests from last night.”

  “What?” Lydia stared at him in shock, her hand going to her chest.

  “Don’t worry,” Gabriel said reassuringly. “They aren’t wearing masks, but believe me when I tell you they’re more worried about you knowing who they are than the other way around. None of them have any idea who you are.”

  “Gabriel, I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can,” Gabriel interrupted. “You will. After what you went through last night, you hardly have a reason to hesitate now. I imagine this is mild in comparison.”

  “Gabriel, nothing about this situation is mild,” Lydia said.

  “I know, but you’ve been handling it quite well so far. You’ll continue to do so.”

  He held out his hand. Lydia drew in a deep breath, somewhat reassured by his words. She walked down the stairs and slipped her fingers into his outstretched hand.

  Six guests were gathered in the solarium, four men and two women who were all clad in luxurious robes. They sat around the table in languid comfort, sipping dark, fragrant French Roast coffee and rising to fill their plates from serving trays set out on the sideboard.

  There were platters of flaky pastries and bowls of juicy fruit—fat strawberries, cherries, and blueberries, savory melon slices, chunks of sweet pineapple. Crystal carafes of freshly squeezed orange juice were lined up like glossy jewels. Heated platters of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and thick, buttered toast rested beside the fruit, along with dishes of crunchy granola and creamy yogurt.

  Lydia stopped in the doorway. Preston and Kruin were eating at their usual places, and they both gave her brief nods of greeting. She saw Helen, divested of her Cleopatra costume and accoutrements. The folds of her robe were parted to reveal her plump cleavage, and she gave Lydia a slow smile that seemed to indicate more than a simple greeting.

  Lydia wondered with another stab of jealousy if Helen had spent the entire night with Gabriel. Pushing aside the thought, she turned her attention to a man who was helping himself to a generous serving of eggs. His back was to her, but she recognized him immediately.

  When he turned and saw her standing there, Wallace gave her an unreadable smile. He wore a cotton robe that was barely closed with a belt, revealing his plump, hairy stomach and skinny legs. Lydia also caught an unfortunate glimpse of his limp member dangling between his thighs.

  “Well, good morning, Lydia,” Wallace said as he settled at the table. “You’re a pleasant sight.”

  You’re not, Lydia wanted to retort, but stopped the words just in time.

  Instead, she muttered a greeting in return, including the other guests in her words as she went to pour herself a cup of coffee. She filled her plate with food and sat down next to Gabriel, trying not to wince as pain coated her caned flesh.

  To her relief, none of the guests were paying either her or each other much attention, as they were engrossed either in their food or reading the newspaper. Furthermore, they all appeared rather exquisitely exhausted from the previous night.

  “So, Lydia, darling, how are you this morning?” Preston asked, pushing aside a section of the newspaper.

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “And your luscious backside?”

  Lydia flushed. “Sore,” she muttered.

  “Mmm. The cane has quite a different sensation, doesn’t it?”

  Wallace, who was seated diagonally from Lydia, glanced up from his plate with an intrigued expression. “When was Lydia caned?”

  “Last night,” Preston explained. “We had a little display in the drawing room. Lydia has been a naughty thing in the past and required punishment.”

  “Why wasn’t I told of this?” Wallace asked rather petulantly. “I would have liked to see that.”

  “Perhaps you still will,” Preston replied, giving Lydia a salacious wink.

  Unease rose in her throat. Surely he wouldn’t subject her to punishment again in such a short period of time. She was relieved when Kruin spoke.

  “Not for some time, however,” the big man said.

  Preston looked as if he were about to protest, but a sharp glance from Gabriel made him close his mouth with irritation. Lydia sent silent thanks to both Gabriel and Kruin.

  “Then how are we to entertain our guests this morning?” Preston asked.

  “You can watch someone else,” Helen suggested. She smiled at Lydia, her eyes sparking with a hint of excitement. “After all, Lydia isn’t the only one who’s been naughty.”

  Lydia was unable to prevent herself from glancing at Gabriel. He didn’t react at all to Helen’s comment, but Wallace gave a deep laugh.

  “My guess is that Lydia isn’t naughty on purpose, though,” he said. “Unlike some people.”

  Helen turned her smile on the older man. “How are you with a cane, Wallace?”

  “Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll find out.”

  “I’ll look forward to that, then.”

  “And what about Lydia?” Wallace remarked, turning his attention back to Lydia. “Do you want to find out?”

  “No, thank you,” Lydia said shortly. She bit into a croissant and wished Wallace would ignore her the way the other male guests were doing.

  “You were right about her, Preston,” Wallace said, his expression darkening slightly. “Not very friendly at all.”

  “Well, bear in mind that friendliness is hardly a prerequisite,” Preston replied. “And frankly, Lydia would be far less interesting if she were entirely gregarious and accommodating.”

  “Still, a measure of sociability is necessary,” Wallace continued, his watery eyes never leaving Lydia. “As is the knowledge that pain should be inflicted only at certain times.”

  Lydia recognized he was referring to her kneeing him in the groin. She met his gaze with a level one of her own.

  “Or when it’s deserved,” she said.

  He frowned, but didn’t respond. Lydia glanced toward the end of the table, where a statuesque, blonde woman was eyeing one of the men. She plucked a cherry from a bowl and slipped it between her full, ruby lips before leaning over to kiss him. The moistened cherry passed from her mouth into his, just as he began parting the folds of her robe to reveal her breasts.

  Embarrassment rose in Lydia as it became clear that the lustful atmosphere of the previous night had extended to the morning. She looked down at her plate, wondering if she could excuse herself. She still had no idea when it was appropriate for her to state her wishes.

  “So your punishment was deserved, was it?” Wallace asked.

  Lydia glanced up. “Excuse me?”

  “Last night. If pain should be dispensed when it’s deserved, then the pain of your caning must have been well deserved. What did you do to deserve it, Lydia?”

  “None of your business,” Lydia replied tartly, earning herself a glare from Kruin and a terse “Lydia!” from Preston.

  She flushed at being reprimanded in front of the guests, feeling several of them glance curiously at her. She didn’t care if they knew about her role in the house, which was all too evident, but she hoped none of them would recognize her from somewhere.
/>   “Go on, my dear,” Preston urged. “Tell Wallace what you did.”

  Lydia’s fingers clenched on her fork as she fought the urge to snap at him. She thought briefly of telling Preston what Wallace had done to her, but she suspected it wouldn’t make a difference.

  “I slapped Preston,” she finally said.

  “And?” Preston asked.

  Lydia looked at him in confusion. “And?”

  “How else have you disobeyed us?”

  Her flush of embarrassment deepened as she realized what he wanted her to confess. Her mind worked frantically trying to think of a way to phrase it with a minimum of humiliation. “I…I’ve succumbed to climax.”

  “Rather uncontrollably, I might add,” Preston said. “She comes like a cat in heat, entirely unable to control her pleasure.”

  Lydia knew her skin was burnt crimson. Anger quickened in her blood at Preston’s continuous need to shame her, even though he had proven his authority time and time again. And after last night, Lydia thought she deserved a small reprieve.

  “That must make it a joy to discipline her,” Wallace mused.

  “It does,” Gabriel agreed, giving Lydia a smile before he took his plate and returned to the buffet.

  Wallace stood and walked around the table, stopping right beside Lydia’s chair. Something feral lit in his pale eyes.

  “What kind of cane did you use on her?” he asked Preston.

  “Rattan,” Preston replied. “I prefer natural materials. And Lydia’s bottom is excellent. It fairly springs back with each lash.”

  “Show me the welts,” Wallace ordered.

  Lydia disliked the look in his expression. It was somehow vengeful, as if he wanted to retaliate for the way she had treated him. Her hand trembled as she took another sip of coffee, hoping one of the other men might come to her rescue.

  “Lydia.” Preston said her name in a brusque voice that left her in no doubt as to what was expected of her.

  Her face burning, she rose slowly from her seat. She willed Gabriel to put a stop to this, but he was busy refilling his plate with food. Lydia gathered her dress in her hands and pulled it up, taking care to make certain that at least her mons remained covered. A cool breeze drifted across her welt-riddled skin, easing the continuous burn.

  Wallace stepped behind her to examine the pattern. Lydia flinched when he pressed his hands against her bottom cheeks, flaring pain through her once again. She put her fists on the table and struggled against the urge to snap at Wallace to take his hands off her. She particularly hated the fact that she was now in the position he had wanted last night.

  Still holding her skirt up, Lydia looked at Kruin. He was watching her enigmatically, which made her wonder if she was being assessed on her behavior this morning.

  “Very nice patterning,” Wallace remarked as his finger slipped audaciously into the crease of her buttocks.

  Lydia gasped and pulled away from him as far as the table would allow, dropping her skirt back over herself. Wallace grasped her waist suddenly, thrusting his groin against her rump.

  “Get away from me,” Lydia hissed, her skin crawling at the feel of his fat belly pushing against her, his flaccid penis hardening.

  “You need to work on your attitude, Lydia,” Wallace said. He turned her around so she was forced to face him, his eyes starting to flare with the burn of lust. “I don’t care what Preston says. You’re expected to be friendlier here.”

  Gabriel turned from the buffet, his expression darkening. “Watch it, Wallace. There isn’t a—”

  “Your little plaything needs to learn some manners,” Wallace interrupted. He grasped Lydia by the neck and pulled her toward him, smashing his mouth against her lips with lecherous hunger.

  A guttural protest came from Lydia’s throat before she was able to pull angrily away from him. She would not allow people to treat her like this without her consent, for there were some things she had certainly not agreed to.

  A fierce rage broke open inside her, compounded by the humiliations and pain she had endured thus far and the rising conflict of her emotions. Without thinking, she spat furiously in Wallace’s face.

  He stared at her in abhorrent shock. Silence descended over the room like a heavy cloud. For an instant, time seemed to halt as no one moved.

  Then Wallace’s expression flared with black anger. Before Lydia realized what he was doing, his hand came up and slammed hard against the side of her face. She cried out as pain radiated over her neck and jaw, her vision blurring. Dimly, she heard Preston and Gabriel both shout, heard Kruin’s harsh “Get her away!”

  With horror, she saw Wallace’s arm rise again. Before he could strike her a second time, before she could even right herself, the three men moved into action.

  Kruin’s chair overturned as he leapt from the table and ran to tackle Wallace, his massive strength bringing the other man instantly to the floor. Gabriel rushed toward Lydia to move her away from the struggling men, pulling her into the protection of his arms.

  “Get that bastard out of here!” Preston shouted, his blue eyes hot with anger as he strode toward Kruin and Wallace. “Kick him down the front steps. I never want to see him again!”

  With minimal effort, Kruin grabbed the hapless Wallace by the back of his robe and hauled him from the solarium. The front door slammed hard.

  “Lydia, are you all right?” Preston took Lydia’s face in his hands, turning her toward him so he could examine the bruising mark on her jaw. Distress darkened his eyes. “How badly did he hurt you?”

  Lydia couldn’t reply, her body sinking against Gabriel’s as the shock began to dissipate. Preston’s fingers pressed gently against her cheek, his frown deepening.

  “Open and close your mouth,” he said. “Does anything feel broken?”

  “N-no.”

  “Sit down.” Gabriel helped her sit in a chair, his hand sliding comfortingly into her hair.

  Preston went to the sideboard and removed several pieces of ice from a silver bucket. He placed them into a linen napkin and returned to the table. Gabriel took the ice from him and pressed it carefully against Lydia’s cheek.

  “He will never return here,” Kruin said, his body lined with furious tension as he returned to the solarium.

  “Not only will he never return here,” Preston replied tersely, “he will regret ever having been here.”

  “Come upstairs.” Gabriel tucked his arm around Lydia and helped her to her feet. “You’ve had quite a time these past couple of days.”

  Lydia processed the fact that the other guests had been watching the entire incident in shock, but she no longer cared. She leaned heavily against Gabriel as they went upstairs and into her bedroom.

  She stretched out on the bed, her eyelids drifting closed with relief. Gabriel sat beside her, still holding the ice to her cheek. After a few moments, he went into the bathroom and returned with a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water.

  “Take these,” he said, tapping two pills into his palm.

  Lydia struggled to sit up, pushing a pillow behind her back. The pain slowly began to ebb, although her nerves were frayed and raw. She swallowed the aspirin, eyeing Gabriel almost warily. He gave her a gentle look, smoothing his hand over her thigh.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “We should never have let him take such liberties with you.”

  “It’s not entirely your fault. He started with me last night, so he was angry to begin with.”

  “What did he do last night?”

  When Lydia told him, Gabriel’s expression hardened with anger.

  “Why didn’t you come and tell me?” he asked.

  “You were…otherwise occupied.” Lydia broke her gaze from him and looked down at her hands.

  “Then why didn’t you tell Preston or Kruin?”

  “Because Preston had other plans in mind for me,” Lydia said. She paused, then asked, “Did she spend the night with you?”

  “Who?”

  “Helen.”r />
  He looked surprised for an instant before comprehension dawned. “If she did, do you have a right to question that?”

  “No. But I am wondering.”

  “Why?”

  Now Lydia was surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Lydia felt a flush begin to creep over her neck. “I’m…I’m curious. I saw you in the library with her.”

  “Did you, now?” Gabriel murmured. “And did you like what you saw?”

  Lydia nodded. A vivid picture of him and Helen came to mind, searing through her thoughts like a firebrand.

  “I liked it and didn’t like it,” she confessed. “It was arousing, but…”

  Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged. She felt Gabriel watching her as if he were able to read her thoughts.

  “But?” he prompted.

  Lydia pinched the bridge of her nose with a heavy sigh. Fatigue had seeped into her very bones, adding another layer to her whirlwind of emotions.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said, her flush heightening. “I didn’t like seeing you with another woman.”

  Gabriel was quiet for a moment before he leaned over to press his lips against her forehead.

  “Try and get some more sleep, Lydia. The guests will be gone by the time you come downstairs again.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “He was forced to resign.” Preston’s voice was filled with satisfaction as he poured himself another glass of wine.

  “Good,” Kruin said.

  “Who resigned?” Lydia asked.

  “Wallace,” Gabriel explained. “He was a rather prominent judge in the state court. His superiors recently received some incriminating information about him, so he’s finished.”

  “He’ll be arrested shortly,” Preston added. He lifted his wineglass in Lydia’s direction, his mouth curving. “See, darling? We’ll always take care of things. And of you.”

  A strange feeling of complacency rose within Lydia. She remembered how swiftly the three men had reacted in her defense, making her wholly secure in the knowledge they would all go to any lengths to protect her. The incident with Wallace was only a tiny part of that knowledge. Their protection was like a vast, overarching umbrella that extended far beyond the boundaries of La Nouvelle Vie.