Between my legs, the goat worked on and I shuddered at the first of what I knew would be many orgasms that night. I sucked harder as wave after wave hit me. I could have ground into the goat’s tongue, increasing the intensity of the sensation, but I didn’t. With so many guests determined to have me, I knew that if I went too far, too hard, too fast, I could be overwhelmed.
As the ripples of my satisfaction faded, the goat tapped my wet pussy with his palm gently, almost a love pat and then rose to his feet, motioning to the crowd to pass me over to the next lover.
As the stag continued to gently take my mouth, I looked down my body. It was a woman who stepped up next, the one with the pretty fox mask. She moved between my legs and touched my sex gently, exploring it tentatively as if she had never been with a woman. I thrilled at the idea that I would be her first. Of course I had been many a lady of London’s first but it was always so wicked to corrupt an “innocent”.
She swept her hands over me as she moved to all fours. The goat who had just been pleasuring me moved behind her and flipped up her skirt. I couldn’t see him enter her, but the gasping sigh of the fox told me he had. He took her in long, heavy thrusts and that seemed to encourage her. She slipped two fingers into my hungry sex and began to fuck me at the same tempo he used on her.
She was close to the edge of her own crisis, I felt it in the way her hands began to shake inside of me. She cried out, her tempo in my body going erratic and wild and my second orgasm trailed hers. I rocked against her fingers, moaning so that the cock in my mouth slipped free. The man in the stag mask didn’t seem to mind. He grinned down at me and turned to the woman in the peacock mask. She welcomed him, lifting her skirts as he laid her down next to me and began to take her as I watched.
“Do you like to see me like this?” she groaned, lifting up into his hard thrusts.
“Yes,” I moaned, for my penchant for watching is well-known in my most intimate circles. She leaned over and kissed me, her tongue driving into me.
The woman between my legs pulled free of me and I sighed at the loss of her questing fingers. I was not bereft for long though. A man, I know not who for my eyes were closed as I kissed the woman beside me, slid into my sex with a long cock, filling me to the hilt. He pounded hard at me, stretching me to my limit.
Soon, I was utterly lost. I came again, this time from the combination of the tongue of the woman beside me and the man working hard within me. He withdrew as soon as my orgasm faded and was replaced by the delicate tongue of a lady who licked me clean from the juices of all my pleasure and then built me to yet another explosive orgasm as she purred and cried out with her own.
Bodies merged together as the room devolved into passionate claiming. A man took me as another licked my clitoris while yet another filled my mouth once more. I watched through heavy lids as my female guests were ravished by the male, by my servants, by the men in the orchestra, who gave up their playing once it was clear they were invited to join the fun. It was thrilling and made more so by the fact that I had no hand in it. I was pleasured at the whim of those around me and they exercised that whim again and again.
Finally the crowd gathered around me again, circling me as I arched against the ties that bound me. They still touched each other, teasing, but they were clearly waiting for something. It became clear right away what the something was. They parted and there was Christopher, still wearing his devil mask, but naked beyond that. His cock was hard, red and slick with the hands and mouths that had pleasured him while he watched me tortured and tormented by the others.
I could see his eyes and they locked with mine. He chuckled as he moved between my legs, lifting me up like I was in offering to him. I was spread open, likely pink and definitely slick, for my pleasure had known no bounds that night. He opened the lips of my pussy with his fingers and positioned me before he speared me with his cock.
I screamed out pleasure anew and writhed against him. My lover. My love. My angel. My demon. He stroked into me with hard, long thrusts and the crowd watched. The men began to pump their hands over their cocks, the women finger themselves and I shivered. We were all going to come together, it seemed.
I couldn’t wait.
But he made me do just that. He slowed his strokes to tease me, to allow the others to catch up and ready themselves for release. I whimpered as the pleasure boiling in me faded a fraction. Now it teased in the background, but I wanted it so very badly.
He rolled his hips in the circles he knew I craved and the pleasure returned, sharper now for being lost momentarily. I made wordless cries of pleading, I thrashed my head against the floor as I struggled against my bonds in the hopes I could push him to the brink and force him to take me there with him.
It went on that way for an eternity but then he seemed to take pity on me. As he thrust into me, he began to circle my tender clit with his thumb. The need sharpened in response and I cried out in desperation. The others in the circle moaned too and I looked around. Every one of our guests looked as ready as I was for ultimate release.
“Oh yes,” he murmured as my eyes returned to him. “It’s time. Come for us, Eve. Now. Come for us all.”
My body jolted and obeyed without needing any further encouragement. My orgasm slammed into me with as much force as a carriage accident and I thrashed uncontrollably as pleasure mobbed me. Around me, the men began to groan and the women cry out. We came together, their juices falling around me, on me and Christopher grunted out my name as he filled me, staking his claim back on the body he had so generously shared over the past few days.
When I had nothing left, when those around us were spent, he leaned over me and untied my hands, my ankles. He swept me up, tucking me into his chest and padded naked from the room and the others. Many of them would swiftly find their passion again, I was certain, and spend a few more hours pleasuring and playing.
But for us, the party was over. And as Christopher took me to our bed, cradled me in his arms with words of love and lust, I was already thinking about our next party. The one we held in London just a few months from now.
And wondering what new pleasures would await me there.
Other Books by Jess Michaels
The Wicked Woodleys
Forbidden (Book 1)
Deceived (Book 2)
The Notorious Flynns
The Other Duke (Book 1)
The Scoundrel’s Lover (Book 2)
The Widow Wager (Book 3)
No Gentleman for Georgina (Book 4)
A Marquis for Mary (Book 5)
The Notorious Flynns Bundle (Books 1-5)
The Ladies Book of Pleasures
A Matter of Sin
A Moment of Passion
A Measure of Deceit
The Pleasure Wars Series
Taken By the Duke
Pleasuring The Lady
Beauty and the Earl
Beautiful Distraction
Mistress Matchmaker Series
An Introduction to Pleasure
For Desire Alone
Her Perfect Match
Jess Michaels raffles a FREE Kindle or Amazon gift certificate EVERY month to members of her newsletter, so sign up on her website:
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About the Author
Jess Michaels writes erotic historical romance from her home in Tucson, AZ. She has three assistants: One cat that blocks the screen, one that is very judgmental and her husband that does all the heavy lifting. She has written over 50 books, enjoys long walks in the desert and once wrestled a bear over a piece of pie. One of these things is a lie.
Jess loves to hear from fans! So please feel free to contact her in any of the following ways (or carrier pigeon):
www.AuthorJessMichaels.com
PO Box 814, Cortaro, AZ 85652-0814
Email: [email protected]
Twitter www.twitter.com/JessMichaelsbks
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Jess Michaels raffles a FREE Kindle or Amazon gift certificate EVERY month to members of her newsletter, so sign up on her website:
http://www.authorjessmichaels.com/join-the-jess-michaels-newsletter/
Lady Waverly's Lovers Page 4