“That’s enough of that. Gen, help me dress. Noah, take our place in the shower and then go get your things out of the guesthouse. You can get dressed in the guest bath.” Her gaze met his. “From now on, I want you both staying in the house.”
His face had that hard-to-read expression, but he nodded. “Yes Mistress.”
Lyda gave them a sweeping look. “Remember, when you’re deciding what to wear tonight, I expect proof that my pets want their Mistress.”
Wanting Lyda was as inevitable as wanting air to breathe. A feeling that became more agonizing for Gen when they’d left the shower and Lyda decided her foundation garments for the night would be a black corset and sheer black panties that hinted at the folds of her sex. The tiny sparkles sprinkled over the fabric enhanced the tempting look. After his shower, Noah was called to help with the lacing. Gen had helped Lyda into the short black skirt that went under it, so their Mistress stood unsteadily in just that, holding onto Gen’s hands, while Noah arranged the ties in back.
Watch this, Lyda mouthed, giving Gen a wink.
Gen had seen Chloe lace up a corset before, and though the girl knew what she was doing, it was a pull, adjust, pull adjust, tie-off process that could take a few minutes. Apparently, Noah put all the adjustment into the front end of the process, his brow creased, his eyes intent as he worked. When he finally said “Ready?” Lyda met Gen’s gaze and tightened her grip on Gen’s hands.
Noah pulled the corset tight in one, smooth pull that nipped in Lyda’s waist, pushed her breasts upward, and gave her hips that appealing flare.
The breath that left Lyda from the expert adjustment was no more about the hold of the corset than the one that left Gen, just watching it. Lyda gave her a knowing, amused look. “Any thoughts about what you want to wear tonight?”
If she owned a corset, that question would have been answered in a heartbeat. But Lyda had a solution. And a mandate.
“There’s a waist cincher in the bottom drawer of my lingerie chest. It will fit you. Have Noah put that on you first. It’s soft enough to wear under your clothes, and he loves the look. It will make his cock so hard he’ll be trying to figure out what he can wear tonight without embarrassing himself. Won’t you?” She reached behind her to caress Noah’s face. When he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, she put her temple against his jaw before shrugging him away with casual indifference. It was entirely deceptive, since Gen saw anything but apathy in Lyda’s eyes as she sent him off to get dressed.
Lyda glanced in the mirror, frowned. “Fuck. I look like a scarecrow.”
“No, you don’t. You need to put on ten more pounds, but you look way healthier now than you did a few weeks ago. I promise.”
Lyda gave her a wry look. “Are you reassuring your Mistress?”
“Sometimes she gets insecure too. Rare as a lightning strike, but it can happen.”
Lyda snorted. Gen brought her the bolero jacket she wanted to wear over the corset, and then they accessorized with silver earrings and necklace with a tiny diamond pendant. Gen hadn’t been giving Lyda empty praise. Yes, she was still too thin and pale, but she was getting healthier. A few weeks ago she had looked like a scarecrow. Now she was an ethereal Fae queen, fragile and yet mesmerizing, inspiring protectiveness and a desire to be as close to her as possible. She wouldn’t share that, though. Lyda would laugh at her.
When she noticed Lyda looking a little drained from the shower, she coaxed her to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Shoes are a challenge.” Lyda stared in the closet. “I want to wear heels, but the doctor says the left leg needs to be about six months stronger. Barbarian.”
“Well, he’s probably thinking more about protecting your leg than what you should wear to dinner.”
“That’s what happens when a man sees you vomiting and bleeding and your head shaved.” Lyda gave a mock shudder. “I have no power over him.”
“Not true.” Moving to the closet, Gen studied the racks of shoes. “Noah saw all of those things, and he couldn’t wait to be at your feet tonight. But then, when someone loves you, you always have power over them, for good or bad.”
When Lyda got quiet, Gen bit her lip. “I know he hasn’t said it, but I think it’s true.” Based on what she was starting to believe love was, she was getting pretty convinced that saying the words weren’t what made it real to the parties involved.
“You didn’t say anything wrong, Gen.” Lyda grimaced as she shifted on the bed. The crash had wrenched her back and neck, sometimes bringing painful twinges. Gen had learned not to make a big deal out of them, but she made a mental note to suggest a pain killer to Lyda before they left. She knew their Mistress wanted tonight to be pleasurable. The trick was going to be getting her not to overdo so she had the energy to do what she wished. While that would be to Gen and Noah’s benefit, Gen wasn’t really thinking about the selfish side of things. She thought they all needed it tonight.
“How about the black flats with the quarter-inch heel?” Lyda sighed. “At least they give my feet a nice shape, and they’re rubber-soled.”
“What if we use the transport chair tonight, and you can wear these?” Gen lifted the black spike heels Lyda had been eyeing as her preferred choice to show off her legs, scars or no.
“I’m not clueless, Gen.”
Gen blinked innocently, said nothing. Lyda’s lips quirked. “All right, rabbit. But the only reason I’m agreeing is I want the reason I collapse tonight to be because of what I do to you and Noah.”
“And we appreciate your agreeable nature, rare though it is.”
“Little bitch. Come here.”
Gen brought the shoes. When Lyda extended a foot with royal haughtiness, Gen bent over to slip it on. Then she snapped up straight and fast at the hard, sharp pinch on her bare ass. Nothing wrong with the strength in her Mistress’s fingers. “Ow.”
“You deserved it,” Lyda said. Her gaze slid over Gen, lingered. “I like having a naked servant. I may keep you like this more often.” She ran a finger down the inside of Gen’s thigh. “It turns you on as well, doesn’t it?”
“Yes ma’am.” Breathlessness returned as Lyda’s finger slid higher, teased her pussy, just a tantalizing touch before she drew away.
“All right. Get me settled in the living room so I can take a little predinner rest while you make yourself pretty for me.”
Once she had Lyda on the couch, Gen found the waist cincher, slipped on a robe and went to find Noah. He’d dried his hair and brushed it to silk, catching it on his shoulders with a bronze clip. Slacks and a dress shirt were an appealing look on him. When she sidled up to him, he was tying a thin silk black tie. His light spice cologne teased her senses, along with the rest of the package.
Lyda obviously wanted to heighten sexual tension between them, so teasing touches and lots of innuendo should be okay. At least that was Gen’s logic as she cupped him through the slacks, earning a startled look that became heated as she stroked her way up a cock that was immediately attentive to her. “I need help with the waist cincher.”
“I’m here to help.” His tone promised some very unhelpful distraction.
She’d said beneath Gen’s clothes, so Gen took off the robe and stood in front of the guestroom bed, her back to him. As he approached, the currents of air he disturbed sent a shiver through her. His hands landed on her shoulders, caressing. Did he recognize the proprietary message he sent through that grip? She wasn’t going to point it out, not wanting to break the sensual hope it created.
“Watching you serve her naked made me crazy as it made her.”
“I think that was her plan. I didn’t mind it either.” When he pressed a kiss to her nape, she drew a shuddering breath. “Waist cincher.”
“So you said.” He took it from her, turned her to hook the front. He started from the bottom and worked up, the heel of his hand brushing her lower abdomen. When he reached the top, his knuckles were grazing the lower curve of her breasts.
“She
wants to drive us insane tonight,” he said conversationally.
“It’s working.”
“Hell, yeah.” His lips curved. “But I’m concerned she’s not up for it.”
“We’ll take it easy. Follow her lead. And our own.”
When she met his gaze, he nodded. They would care for their Mistress however she needed care. They’d make it work.
He turned her then, started making his adjustments. “Hold onto the bedpost,” he said. “How tight do you want it?”
“As tight as you want it.”
A muffled chuckle, and a muttered, “Yep, completely crazy,” had Gen smiling. But she noticed he also hadn’t done what he usually did, deferred to her or Lyda, refusing to acknowledge his own wants.
Then all thought disappeared as she experienced firsthand what Lyda had. Oh…my. Their Mistress might be a Domme, but no woman in her right mind could be unaffected by that smooth flow of motion that gave her both the sense of instant restraint at a strong man’s hands and a heightened awareness of all her curves. Then there was how tempting the resulting display would be to a man’s appreciative gaze. Noah settled his hands on her waist, smoothing over it, checking the fit. She rotated her ass against the front of his slacks and purred, finding his cock straining beneath the fabric.
“Hope you’re wearing a jacket. Or you’re going to scare women and children. Well, maybe just the children.”
“Your ass really needs a handprint to go with that pinch Lyda gave you.”
“I’ll tell Mom.”
He snorted, then his mouth brushed her throat again. Cupping her bare breasts, he pushed his cock against her ass. “God,” she whispered. “I want you both so much. I was so afraid…I’d never have that again.”
When he pressed his face hard into her hair, she had the impression he’d closed his eyes, caught up in the same emotions she was. Gen had come to his bedside in the hospital as often as needed, touching base with him until he was discharged. Then they’d worked together to care for Lyda. When Gen faltered in worries about their Mistress, he’d been right by her side, helping, letting her lean on him, saying the right things at the right time. There was nothing weak about this man. Just broken in a few places, and they all had that, didn’t they?
“Go get dressed,” he said roughly, pushing her toward the door.
She was surprised, but when she turned to look at him, he was back at the mirror, working on the tie. As she watched him, he slanted her a glance, and the gaze that slid over her body, naked except for the form-fitting waist cincher, was molten steel.
“If you don’t, I’m going to fuck you on all fours like a damn animal, and we’re both going to be in a lot of trouble.”
She fled.
She chose a cute little black dress whose lined bodice didn’t require a bra, and thong panties with a cotton crotch that didn’t have a prayer of absorbing her arousal.
When they emerged to take Lyda to dinner, her expression told them she was pleased. As she reached out with both hands, they came to her, forming a circle. Lyda gazed at them. “Mine,” she murmured. “My beautiful pets.”
They had a wonderful time at the restaurant. It was obviously a celebration of what lay behind them, possibly what lay ahead. Lyda ordered a pasta dish and gelato for dessert, even taking a bite of the chocolate cake Gen ordered and the cannoli Noah wanted. Gen noticed they often caught the intrigued attention of the patrons, probably because Lyda was liberal with her touches, caressing Gen’s hair, touching her cheek, laying her palm high on Noah’s thigh. Playing footsie with them beneath the table. What they all wanted was the sweet touch of cream in their after-dinner coffee, the steam rising off it like the sexual current running between them.
Finally, Lyda handed her credit card to Noah, giving him a burning look. “Pay for our dinner, Noah. It’s time to go home.”
Moments later, they were in the car, him driving. Lyda had Gen sit in the back with her, and she quickly discovered her Mistress was not in the mood to be patient. Lyda pulled her over, fingers delving into her hair and destroying the swept-up style as she took over Gen’s mouth. Gen moaned against her lips, and gripped Lyda’s waist, wanting the body beneath the corset.
“Eyes on the road, Noah,” Lyda ordered against Gen’s skin. “You listen to us get hot and bothered. You don’t get to look until you have us safely home.”
“Yes Mistress.” But his voice was raw with the thrilling edge of male impatience.
Lyda put her hand beneath Gen’s skirt, and Gen gasped as Lyda broke the elastic of the thong’s leg opening with one fierce jerk, causing her no constriction as she pressed her fingers beneath it into Gen’s soaking pussy. “Ah, there she is. I just shoved four fingers into her cunt, and all she did was tremble, Noah. She wants to be fucked so badly she’s hurting for it. But so am I. What do we do about that?”
It was a rhetorical question, one Lyda already had plans to answer, Gen was sure. Which was good, because Noah had all he could do not to run them off the road. Lyda obviously had no post-traumatic issues about being in a car tonight. And with her fingers scissoring up inside her, Gen had no brain cells to answer the question, either.
Lyda wrapped her fingers around Gen’s throat, pushing her back against the car seat and tipping her head back so she was staring at the ceiling. Lyda stroked her pounding pulse, held her collared. “Spread your legs as far as they’ll go, Gen. Be shameless for me.”
When she obeyed, Lyda pushed up under the clit hood, causing an uncomfortable and overwhelming sensation. “Such a sensitive bundle of nerves. You can torture a girl like this, make her feel so aroused yet so overstimulated, it’s pain and pleasure at once. Do you want more, Gen?”
“Yes.” Gen squeaked as the dual sensations ramped up. “Yes Mistress.”
“Better. I’m feeling tyrannical tonight. I’ve been out of control too long. Who’s in charge, Gen? Who owns you?”
“You, Mistress.”
“Good.” Those fingers stroked, plucked, while Gen writhed, pinned by that hold on her throat. “Noah, she’s so beautiful, her legs spread out like that, pretty little skirt pushed up. I can’t wait to strip her down to that waist cincher. Do it now, Gen.”
Gen pulled the dress over her head, getting rid of it, gasping as Lyda kept her fingers working between her legs. Lyda ripped the side of the thong, finishing the job, leaving Gen in the waist cincher, heels and jewelry.
“Don’t speed, Noah. We might have a policeman joining our threesome if he saw Gen like this.”
Gen managed to speak. “I don’t think Noah is into sharing that way.”
Lyda noticed Noah’s set jaw, his grip on the wheel. “My pets share with each other, but nobody else.” Reaching over the seat, she flicked Noah’s neck. “I like that too.”
* * * * *
When they pulled into the drive, Gen had lost her mind to full-blown lust. Lyda had kept stroking and teasing her cunt, and the stimulation of that, added to her provocatively naked body in the waist cincher, was enough to have her ready to do anything Lyda wanted, even if it involved farm animals.
When she made that observation, Lyda gave a sexy chuckle. “Don’t think I want to share you that way, either, rabbit. She needs to be carried, Noah. Her legs are shaking.”
The terrain to the door wasn’t smooth. It also wasn’t designed for the light transport chair. So when Lyda reached for the cane that had recently replaced her crutches, Gen’s glazed eyes met Noah’s in the mirror. Lyda anticipated them.
“I can and will do this,” she said. “Bring her inside, Noah.”
Noah paused. Though they both realized proving herself was important to Lyda, protecting her was equally important to them. So Noah scooped Gen up and brought her to the door as Lyda bid, but he did it fast. By the time Lyda was out of the car and had taken the first step or two with the cane, he was back by her side.
She’d removed the heels, held them hooked on one finger, so he took them from her with gentle courtesy, keeping his
gaze on her progress. Lyda kept her eyes on Gen, waiting for them in an outfit designed for one thing—to encourage lots of hot, over-the-top sex. Gen already had the door open.
When they stepped inside, Lyda moved past them, toward the living room. Dropping the keys she’d taken from Gen onto the side table, she dropped into a wing-backed chair. As she placed the cane at her side, Noah and Gen came to her, hand in hand. They sank to their knees before her that way. Gen remembered the first time she’d knelt to Lyda, struggling with what it meant. Now it was pure instinct and desire.
“I’ll watch the two of you first.” Lyda’s voice was low, the command unmistakable, running a thrill up Gen’s spine. “Noah, she’s yours right now. All yours. You fuck her exactly the way you’ve been wanting since you laced her up tonight. And Gen…when you don’t think you can hold back anymore, you ask him for permission.”
Lyda had never placed that power in Noah’s hands. Gen sensed his surprise, his flicker of uncertainty. But then his gaze slid over to her. Giving him a look under her lashes she intended to be a sexual challenge, bringing him right to the end of a frayed leash, she tipped forward, sank onto her elbows, leaving her hips high in the air. She adjusted her knees wide, the points of her heels facing upward. Adding to the whole erotic quotient, she wrapped both her hands around Lyda’s right ankle, her forehead against the tip of Lyda’s shoe. She was at both their mercy.
Noah’s hand slid along her calf, caressed the muscle. Taking hold of her foot, he slid off one heel, then the other. As she shivered, he teased her ankle with light caresses. Her pussy got wetter.
“She’s dripping on the carpet, Mistress.”
“Take care of the mess you’ve made, then.”
Gen heard him slip the buckle of his belt, the whisper of the zipper of the slacks parting. Then his hands were on her ass.
Nature of Desire 8 - Divine solace Page 44