Edward shook sense into his brain, then slunk out of his study with his portfolio of new schematics under his arm. He went downstairs to the laboratory, carpet muffling his footsteps until he arrived at the wooden stairs to the basement.
Stopping cold in the stairwell he stared down.
The lab should have been dark. Instead light filtered in from the bank of windows at the entrance.
It was a soft glow. Possibly Sebastian had left a lamp burning. But the servants were designed to douse all unattended flames in the big wooden house.
Edward continued down the stairs. The curtains had been carelessly drawn over the lab windows offering a sliver of a view. He peered through.
His skin tingled to goose flesh, his pulse thrummed at the extraordinary sight.
Miss Bennett was doing something very naughty with the spanking machine.
It took him only a moment to figure out why she lay half-naked on a padded bench, her legs splayed open, her calves supported by a sling contraption, the wheel of the spanking machine spinning furiously between her alabaster thighs while steam poured out of the safety valve. Every time the rubber swatters hit a particular part of her anatomy she emitted excited squeals and moans.
Edward’s cock jolted to full stand.
Instinctively, he glanced around. Of course he was alone. Sebastian wouldn’t return for hours. And, from the sound of it, the lovely Delia Bennett had been in the lab for quite some time already. Her climax was imminent.
He tore open the fly of his trousers sending a cream-coloured celluloid button clattering to the floor. Luckily he had had the foresight to dispense with drawers that evening. Why bother if one were working alone?
He grabbed his prick, the tip wet with his emission, and slid his fist along the shaft. Miss Bennett arched and writhed on the bench, her moans growing in intensity and rapidity matching the blasts of steam escaping the boiler. Her feminine pleas for release resonated in his core. She would be dripping wet, like she had been the other day. His balls tightened at the memory as he increased the rhythm of his frenzied strokes. He sucked in his lips to muffle his huffing breaths. He needed to hear only her, needed to share her journey to ecstasy.
She stretched her legs in the slings, her pointed toes straining to the heavens, her head rolling side to side as she murmured senseless entreaties to an imaginary lover. He pumped with determined vigour. He was almost there, and so was she.
Suddenly she jerked her hips, holding them in the air, her orgiastic cry unmistakable.
“Edward!”
He doubled over and spent against the painted wainscoting.
Edward’s heart pounded in his ears as he slumped to the floor. He leaned against the wall, watching blankly as his milky ejaculate oozed down the drab panelling.
He sighed. The fabulous Delia Bennett wanted him. The thought simultaneously thrilled and terrified him.
***
Delia had so wanted to join Sebastian at the pub after supper, but he was enamoured of some pretty mandrake and being jealous about it.
“It’s nice to be on top for a change, Deel. Besides, you should take advantage of a night left alone with your Edward.”
Except he wasn’t her Edward yet. And he had made himself scarce over the last few days so he likely wasn’t going to be her Edward any time soon.
She exhaled her frustration. She could drink alone at the pub or drink alone in the library.
A warm fire, a glass of sherry, and a good book sounded ideal.
She buttoned her high-collared black velvet dressing gown over her camisole and drawers, slid her feet in her shearling booties, and wrapped her paisley shawl around her shoulders. The hall was dark and quiet, but the air pulsed with tension and expectation. More probably that was just silly hopefulness or the mechanical servants.
She opened the door to the library, surprised to find the fire recently laid. It was eerie how the servants could anticipate wants and needs, and it still unsettled her how the mechanical staff resembled actual maids and footmen. She sauntered over to the bookshelves and tilted her head to skim the spines hoping for a salacious Gothic novel.
“Miss Bennett?”
Professor Ockham’s baritone shot a spark of desire through her. “Professor?” She turned around.
He was dashing in his Turkish robe, an ascot tucked under the generous shawl collar, wide-legged chocolate brown silk pyjama bottoms underneath. A jaunty fez which should have looked ridiculous was simply becoming. He held an unlit pipe and a taper.
“I thought you had gone out with Seb.” Was there a tremor of nervousness in his voice?
“He wouldn’t let me join him. He’s got a new bloke. I thought I might read.” She smiled demurely. “If you don’t mind my company.”
A hint of pink coloured his stubbled cheeks. “Of course not.” He held up his pipe and gazed at her through lowered lids. “May I?”
His awkwardness was endearing. And encouraging. “Please.”
He bent down to light the taper in the fire. She resumed her perusal of the shelves, now a mere subterfuge for planning a seduction.
The comforting scent of pipe tobacco filled the air.
“Miss Bennett, you’ve been with my lab for about a year now, right?”
Delia turned to face him. “Yes, Professor.”
“You do cracking good work, and I know you get on famously with Seb.”
“Oh, yes, Sebbie and I - ” She flushed. “How do you mean?”
The pink on his cheeks deepened. “I mean you work well together. And I know you enjoy yourself in the lab - ” He flushed crimson and flicked his gaze away ostensibly to place his pipe on the mantle.
A chill crept up her spine. She had thought someone had been watching her play with the spanking machine, but had assumed it was the ever-present servants. Now she knew. He had seen her. Professor Ockham had seen her in the lab the night before.
The chill heated to excitement.
Delia took a few steps toward him. Professor Ockham swallowed audibly.
She stepped forward again, closing the space between them.
Professor Ockham met her gaze, worry furrowing his forehead, firelight glittering in his wide eyes.
Delia stood on tiptoe and plopped a fleeting kiss on his lips.
His startled gaze fell to her mouth. He cupped her face, holding her steady as he kissed her tentatively, tenderly, the depths of his mouth warm and welcoming. He let go too soon.
She wavered on her feet, drugged by the unexpected sensuality. He wrapped an arm around her waist and smiled his devastatingly handsome smile.
“Miss Bennett - ”
“Delia.”
“Delia,” he murmured as he kissed her neck, following the pulse point to the nape. “Delia.” His breath dampened the suddenly too constricting high collar of her dressing gown. “You don’t know how I have longed for this.”
She tugged at the sash of his robe. “I think I do, Professor.”
“Edward. Darling, you must call me Edward.” Starting at her collar, he slowly pulled each button loose down the front of her gown.
She arched to give him better access. Her shawl slid from her shoulders to the carpet. “Edward.” Her Edward. His robe untied, she slipped her hands inside. Her heart skipped a beat. He was nude, gloriously nude, rippled muscles under soft hair. She tore off his ascot. The fez tumbled to the floor.
“You’re gorgeous.” She tugged his robe over his thick shoulders and he obliged her by pulling his arms through the sleeves.
“So are you.”
He stripped her of her robe and unbuttoned her camisole. His hands at her waist, he bent over and drew a nipple into his mouth.
A rush of desire pulsed like laudanum through her veins, weakening her against the assault of pleasure.
She gripped his back, his muscles flexing under the pads of her fingers. His erection pressed into her thigh.
“Make love to me, Edward.” She was breathless.
He lifted his head, his face beaming. He kissed her again, his lips soft, his tongue demanding. “Here? In the library?” he murmured against her mouth. “In front of the fire?”
“Yes, please.” Her knees threatened to buckle, but he held her fast as he threw pillows and cushions from the sofa and club chairs before the hearth.
He supported her as she knelt, then remained standing and stripped off his pyjama bottoms. He was magnificent in his nudity, the glow of the fire gilding his pale skin. Above well-muscled thighs, his thick cock jutted before her at full stand. He was stunning. He was awesome.
He was pierced.
A dressing ring of pure silver looped through the head of his cock, and glistened with the evidence of his desire. Delia swallowed her astonishment. Sebastian had never mentioned such adornment.
She leaned over, slid her hands over the taut cheeks of his bum, and wrapped her lips around the head.
He groaned in appreciation.
She languidly licked the underside of his shaft, teasing her tongue around the cowled foreskin, coaxing the ring through its hole, sucking the drop of excitement from the tip. As she removed her slippers and damp drawers, he tangled his fingers in her hair, loosening her braid, grabbing fistfuls of strands, muttering lustful oaths.
She smoothed her palm down her stomach to her motte, sliding her fingers through her sex. She was dripping wet, the slipperiness thwarting her attempts at pleasure.
He pulled back, his prick popping from her mouth.
“Let me.” He extended himself on the cushions, light and shadow dancing on the sculpted planes of his torso, his eyes sparkling with invitation. He drew her down alongside him and kissed her mouth languidly as he fingered her clit.
Delia yelped, bucking up amidst his chuckles. He teased the nub mercilessly, expertly. For a man who preferred other men, he was amazingly good. She relaxed into the cushions, letting him take control.
“I’ve dreamt of this moment for a long time, Deel.” He massaged harder. “I dare say my imagination was pretty spot on.”
She stared at him, open-mouthed, fighting against the finality of orgasm, wanting the delirium of rapture to never end.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward with an unexpected sinister seductiveness. “Come, Delia. I want to see la petite mort.” He slipped a finger inside her cunt.
She could resist no longer. She cried out, jerking away from his now-drenched hand. He smiled and propped himself over her, nudging her thighs apart, holding her gaze as he entered her slowly.
She twitched against him, still so sensitive from his ministrations, his ring cool inside her heated passage. His brow lifted as he thrust inside wickedly. She clenched around him with a moaning sigh.
Her Edward. Finally he was her Edward.
His movements soon found a steady rhythm. His rapid breaths, his bowed head, the tension in his back signalled his own descent into sexual oblivion.
He glanced up at her, his twisted brow shadowing the need in his eyes. “Delia - ” His voice held urgency. He was going to spend.
“Edward, stay inside me.”
“But - ”
She pecked his lips. “Trust me.”
He thrust with determination, huffing hoarsely, his breath hot on her shoulder, then slammed inside her. He held himself aloft, his face contorted in ecstasy, and growled his climax, branding her with his emission.
He gazed down at her with a grin. “Delia,” he began as he stretched out at her side. “You’ve been with my lab for a year now, right?”
Didn’t he already ask that? “Yes, Edward.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. “I’d like you to stay.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Why would I leave?”
“Well, there are so many opportunities for a clever young woman such as yourself.”
It thrilled her that he thought her clever. “Thank you, Edward.”
“Better paying opportunities, in fact.”
“This house is a wonderful place to live.”
He kissed her hair. “I would give you a superlative recommendation if you felt you had to leave.”
She nestled against him. “I have no intention of leaving, Edward. I like it here.”
He gave her a squeeze. “Good. Because we make a marvellous team, don’t you think?”
The hair of his chest tickled her nose. “We do.” Delia smiled, then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
***
Edward’s lids fluttered open as morning light streamed through the bow window of his bedroom. The soft, warm, and very feminine body next to him on the mattress shifted sleepily.
He stared at Delia, all dishevelled and perfect. So it hadn’t been a dream.
Memories of the night before flooded his brain, maintaining his morning erection. They had made love in the library, falling asleep from contented exhaustion. The chill of the dying fire had woke him. He had carried her upstairs to his bedroom, making love to her again.
Then again.
His cock wanted still more. As if it were trying to make up for the year it had been denied Delia’s delights. He moved over her.
The bedroom door flew open. Sebastian sauntered in looking rather Bohemian. A servant followed in his wake carrying a breakfast tray, rolling to the bedside to place the tray on the night-stand.
Sebastian flopped on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.
“Hey!” Delia howled in complaint. She clutched the bed covers to her chest. “Sebbie! What the devil are you doing?” She kicked him from under the sheets.
Sebastian laughed. “Dispelling the post-coital awkwardness, my sweet.”
“Ugh.” She kicked him again. “And now I have to piddle.” She got off the bed and walked to the commode utterly naked. Her ivory skin, flushed with the rosy glow of satiation, was seductive in the morning sunlight.
Edward glanced at Sebastian, but Sebastian wasn’t looking at her. He was ogling Edward’s very obvious erection apparent under the sheet. Edward glowered, then resumed watching Delia as she squatted over the commode and peed. A most excellent diversion.
She returned to the bed, blushing under Edward’s gaze. She sniffed the air as she passed by Sebastian. “You reek of absinthe and cigars,” she said as she slid under the covers. “And sex with a stranger.” She burrowed into the crook of Edward’s arm.
“Very astute, Deel.” Sebastian sighed. “But one must do what one must.” He fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out a bundle of paper. He tossed it to Edward.
Banknotes. Possibly worth thousands of guineas. “What the devil is this?”
“An advance on the project I’ve been working on.” He leaned in. “A fucking machine. Deel knows all about it.” A devious smile crept on his lips as he leaned back on his hands. “I’ve just promised dozens to Newcastle’s finest underground clubs and bars.”
Edward was beyond grateful. “Seb, this is - ”
“Just part of my job here.” Sebastian bit his lower lip, the sign he was abashed and didn’t want to talk about it.
“Yeah, well.” He’d thank him later. The fiasco that was the spanking machine meant any expected payment from Miss Debenham’s School would be delayed.
“She’s staying, right?” Sebastian winked at Delia.
Delia lifted her head to gawk at the two men. “You talk about me behind my back?”
Sebastian smirked. “When we’re not fucking.” He grabbed Delia’s foot under the covers. “I’d stay, but Deel thinks I need a bath.”
She kicked him playfully.
H
e kissed her big toe. “Enjoy breakfast.”
“Sebbie, come back when you’re all cleaned up?” Delia’s entreaty was sincere.
Sebastian flashed a grin. “Yeah.”
Edward cradled Delia in his arm as he watched Sebastian leave. The last link in their sexual triad had finally been adjoined, and Sebastian had just solved their economic woes. Suddenly, life’s possibilities were endless.
He extended himself over Delia’s delicious body, urging her knees apart, positioning his achingly hard cock at her cunt. She smiled, her beautiful brown eyes twinkling joyfully. He kissed her willing mouth, swallowing her moan as he pushed through her throbbing wetness.
Edward, Sebastian, and Delia. They made a very good team.
Captain Barnabus
By Nicole Gestalt
Captain Barnabus closed the door behind him, quietly tightening the locking mechanism as he glanced around the room. A small light in the corner of the room hummed, its argon haze casting the room in a warm glow, under the humming of the light was a constant deeper throbbing noise of the engines as they moved through the sky. The deep throbbing was hardly noticed by the Captain who was so used to spending his time upon airships he had to have a noise-box to recreate the noise when he was back down upon land if he wanted to sleep.
Happy the door was locked he stepped forward, his footfall covered by the plush carpet and silently he moved to the bed. Within it a figure could be seen sleeping, red hair stuck in very odd places that brought a smile to his face. Aware his time was limited he moved to the edge of the bed and shook the figure quickly placing his hand over Megan's mouth as he did so. The last thing he needed was for her to give his presence away.
Megan tensed under his hand her own grabbing hold of his wrist as her eyes opened wide with horror. Barnabus felt a pang of regret for causing her distress but was thankful when recognition caused her to relax. Removing his hand from her mouth he sat down and leant close to her.
“We don't have much time. The Swallow will dock in less than two hours so I need to know everything you have now.” He murmured into her ear. An unfamiliar perfume wafted around him, lilac with a hint of something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Valves & Vixens Page 23