Читать книгу Three - Noelle Mack - Страница 6

Black velvet suited her, Fiona thought, looking in the mirror with the faintest of smiles. And the lustrous triple strand of pearls around her throat provided a demure touch of white. She touched them with a fingertip, then pulled her rumpled gown back down over her bare thighs and legs as her naked and muscular companion bent down to kiss the nape of her neck. She laughed and tipped her head to one side, allowing him, inviting him, to dally with her once more.

He slid his hands inside the front of her gown and over her breasts, tugging gently at her nipples as he whispered into her ear. “My dear lady, I am sorry to leave you. But I must.”

“Then do not delay,” Fiona said calmly. “And give your wayward wife my fondest regards.” She removed his hands and sat upon the small armchair placed before the mirror, taking down her honey-colored hair pin by pin, in no great hurry. It tumbled free over her shoulders.

“I shall,” Thomas sighed, standing in back of her and running his fingers through the glossy locks. “If I can persuade her to leave her lover’s arms long enough to come downstairs.”

“Do you permit her to entertain the fellow in your house?”

“It is her house,” he pointed out. “And she does whatever she wants. I don’t care. I have all the freedom a man could wish for. She has never asked where I was going or when I might return.”

Fiona nodded. “Then you are fortunate.” She rose from her dressing table, unclasping the pearls and coiling them in a tortoiseshell box with an open lid. Dear Thomas. He did not have to know that she had several necklaces very like this one, hidden in other elegant boxes and silk bags.

He frowned. “Must you take them off? I rather fancied the idea of you wearing nothing but the gems of the ocean, like Aphrodite, rolling about in the billows—or should I say pillows? It is nearly midnight, you know. Sleep with the pearls on.”

“Since you will not be here to see how I look, what does it matter?”

He clasped her around the waist and kissed her on the cheek. “The moon will see you. And I will see the moon on my way home and it will tell me how beautiful you are.”

“You are being ridiculously romantic.”

“Not at all.” He kissed her again, long and tenderly, capturing her mouth with his, and not stopping for at least a minute.

She broke away at last. “Ah. How you can kiss, Thomas.”

“I have had some talented teachers. Including you, Fiona.” He kissed her again and looked down at his stiffening cock. “We might have another go. Would you like to?”

“Of course,” she lied. “But I was going to bathe before bed. The maid will be bringing up the hot water soon.”

Thomas laughed. “Wonderful! I can imagine you wet and naked!” He put his hand between her legs and gave a rude squeeze. “And ready for…soft lips upon lips that are softer still. I know how much you like to have your cunny licked, my sweet.”

“Mmm.”

“Is that all you have to say? Merely mmm? Then I shan’t let you come right away. Imagine my tongue sliding deeply into you, Fiona. In and out. In and out. Like a cock. One that cannot come and only wants to delight you.”

“Mmm,” she said again with considerably more enthusiasm. She could almost be tempted, especially by that scenario.

Thomas clasped her again beneath the velvet. “You could close your eyes and imagine that the infamous Lady Raynald has her head between your legs. I understand that she is considered an expert in Sapphic skills.”

“I have heard that she is an expert horsewoman as well,” Fiona said, “and rich enough to indulge her unusual tastes.”

“And what are those?”

“She likes brothel girls of twenty or so. By that age many are weary of men and quite prefer their own sex. She pays for two at a time and they undress…and kiss…and embrace…while she fondles and teases their plump cunnies.” Fiona ran a brush through her hair, humming idly. “She prefers them to be shaved there.”

“Pretty peaches, dripping juice…what else?”

Fiona twisted her hair around one hand and studied herself in the mirror, amused by his impatience. The best way to tell such a story was slow-w-w-ly.

“Fiona, you are a dreadful tease!”

She touched his bare buttocks affectionately with the bristly part of the brush. “One naked girl straddles the other, gripping tightly with her thighs, and…”

Thomas put his hands on his narrow hips and tried to glare the rest out of her. “And what?”

“Lady Raynald gives them riding lessons. With a crop. Then they service her as she desires. They kneel in turn to lick her pussy, after begging their stern mistress for the privilege.”

“How delightfully perverse.”

Fiona waved a hand airily. “And then, of course, she straps on a large dildo for their pleasure.”

“How ingenious,” Thomas said. “But I should like to see the horseplay most of all. Do the girls neigh?” He smirked, obviously in need of a smack, which Fiona supplied, with the smooth side of the brush. “Ow!”

“You deserved it.”

“I did not. I was merely expressing a healthy curiosity.”

“Then inquire at Mrs. Quaintree’s establishment. They offer bareback riding as a specialty. I believe it is near Covent Garden—you could ask a friend.”

“Never. You are all that I desire. Now, what was I saying?”

“You were telling me how you would go about licking me,” she said patiently.

“Ah, yes. I want to see you open your legs all the way so that I can see inside the juicy folds. You may touch yourself with a finger for a little while but not for long.”

“Then what?”

“I haven’t decided. Perhaps I shall spread those beautiful legs of yours myself and tie those pretty ankles far apart so my tongue can go far up inside you.”

“Indeed.” She smiled demurely. “But not now.”

“Ah, well.”

Her indifference seemed to wilt him—or perhaps it was the sudden chiming of the clock, reminding him of his duty to his bitch of a wife, Fiona thought.

“Next time, then, my dear lady. I look forward to it.” He almost bowed, then remembered that he was naked and gave her a rueful grin.

“As do I.”

“Then promise me, Fiona,” he began, slipping first one leg and then the other into the breeches he picked up from the floor.

“You know that I do not make promises.”

“I was only going to ask that you wear my gift a little longer. Those damned pearls cost me a small fortune.”

“Well,” she said lightly, “if it means that much to you, then I will wear them in my bath. And to bed. And to breakfast. And all through the day until I see you again.”

“Thank you.” He took the pearls from the box and clasped them once more about her throat, fumbling a little. “Then I know you will be thinking of me.”

Fiona raised an elegant eyebrow. “Of course.”

“Is that so much to ask? I love you.”

She shook her head. “You shouldn’t. I am a thoroughly wicked woman, according to your dear mama, the countess. She said as much to me at Almack’s when she thought no one was listening.”

“Oh, dear,” Thomas said. “I expect she thinks I ought to spend more time at home and sire a few grandchildren. But my wife is not likely to produce any that look like me.”

Fiona stroked his hair. “Why did you marry Anne? She is far from beautiful and never faithful.”

Thomas shrugged. “Her dowry. Her parents let it be known that a considerable sum would be awarded to the suitablest gentleman of pure pedigree, as they put it, so that their darling daughter could marry up. They hoped to rub elbows with the gentry themselves.”

“How romantic,” Fiona said dryly.

“Isn’t it?” He took her by the waist and twirled her around. “I much prefer your company, my naughty angel.”

“Did you ever love her?”

“Certainly not. And as far as the marriage, I had very little choice in the matter. My forebears had a bad habit of burning through money. Gambling, extravagant living, mistresses—” he chucked Fiona under the chin—“that sort of thing.”

“I see,” she said. “Then you ought not to give me trinkets, Thomas.”

“Pshaw. You deserve those pearls. As I was saying, I married Anne because my family’s London house costs the deuce to keep up and Mama has two in the country to maintain as well. In fact, the roof at Castleward has sprung a number of leaks this very spring and I must—”

She shot him an impatient look. “You must place pots and pans in strategic places upon the floor, Thomas. Return home, my lord. You have done what you came to do, and I pronounce myself well satisfied.”

Her lover grinned and fastened his breeches, looking about for his boots.

“Over there.” Fiona pointed. The boots had been hastily pulled off and flung into a corner. He could have done the honors with them on and his breeches partway down, like any other man, she supposed. But Thomas preferred to be quite naked, though he usually insisted that she keep on some of her clothes.

Tonight he had lifted her black velvet gown up to her waist and yanked down her lace-trimmed drawers a second later, revealing her bottom, which he had stroked tenderly—at first. He’d kneeled to kiss both soft cheeks all over, spreading them so he could see everything, then stood up to administer tingling slaps from his strong hands, keeping her bent over the bed, quite unable to do anything but enjoy herself until he thrust deeply inside her.

She was positively glowing from his attentions to that part of her body. And her nipples were still tight and hard. Once he had turned her round and got rid of her drawers, he had freed her breasts from her lowcut gown and let them bounce in his hands while he rammed his thick cock, well roped with veins and slick, into her again and again. He had tugged on her erect nipples for good measure, in an irregular rhythm that excited her into a second climax soon after her first.

Still, the gown had ripped under the sleeve. Thomas was nothing if not virile, but his preferred mode of lovemaking was hell on clothes.

He set about retrieving the rest of his own attire rather quickly, as married men were wont to do, Fiona thought to herself. But he dressed carelessly, having no need to put on a show of propriety for his straying wife. He left his shirt un-tucked and went to the window to look out—a precaution, Fiona supposed, to avoid an angry rival or the occasional love-struck miss who might follow him about.

The moonlight silvered the window on the opposite side of the narrow street…and then a cloud passed over the moon and the glass darkened. Thomas’s eyes widened. “Fiona, come here. I can see quite clearly into the house across the street. I believe that is a bedroom…and your neighbor is beautiful. Who is she?”

Fiona crossed the room to stand near him and looked out. “I don’t know. She is visiting. The owners of the house are away.”

“Is she all alone then?”

Fiona shrugged, a little annoyed by his interest. “I suppose so. I have never talked to her, Thomas.”

He laughed softly. “Then it will not seem so wrong to spy on a perfect stranger.”

“Hmm. I would rather not argue that point. But if you insist….”

Moving closer, they looked out the window together and Thomas put his arms around Fiona’s waist as the woman in the house opposite began to disrobe. She was tall, even when she kicked off her shoes, with a willowy figure and firm breasts. The candelabra she had set by the bed illumined her body but kept her face mostly in shadow.

The night was warm and she sprawled on the bed, leaving the candles burning. She stretched, luxuriating in her nakedness, and opened her legs to reveal an intimate glimpse of female flesh that shone wetly in the candlelight. Then the woman slid her hands down over her belly, sinking several fingers into the dark hair between her legs.

“Ah,” Thomas murmured. “I hope that she doesn’t stop.”

She seemed restless, twisting her hips this way and that, keeping her fingers in her cunny.

“She is imagining a lover,” Fiona murmured back.

They watched the woman withdraw her hands and get up on all fours, rearranging the bed pillows into a high mound. She flung herself into them face down, lifting up her hips to tuck a soft little bolster covered in pale velvet between her upper thighs. This she began to squeeze in a regular rhythm, keeping it clasped between her thighs. Her hips thrust down into the pillows, going faster and faster.

The shadows of the candlelight flickered upon the walls of the room they viewed. Thomas gasped. The woman moved with sensual abandon, relishing her solitary pleasure, quite unaware that she was being watched.

Fiona stirred in Thomas’s arms. Hugely erect, he drew her tightly against his body as he riveted his eyes upon the darkened window across the street.

What man would not be aroused, Fiona thought with an inward smile, watching a round, womanly arse like that tighten and relax…tighten and relax…as its possessor enjoyed a private session of frottage, using soft pillows to rub and pump herself to a strong climax. One did not always need a man.

But luckily Fiona had a lover at hand to ease her own restless desire. Shamelessly asking for his attention, she lifted her skirts once more and pushed her bare bottom against the cock that strained against the confinement of Thomas’s breeches.

He reached around to grab her cunny with one strong hand. “Ah, good girl. Right where I want you, hot and ready for me.”

Fiona laughed softly. “Yes. Always.”

“Show me,” he whispered. “Play with your nipples while I penetrate you with your dress up. You know I love to see your arse bared for me. And bare your breasts too. Now.”

She obliged, pulling out one creamy breast and then the other, tugging at her own nipples, while Thomas glanced down over her shoulder to see and then returned his gaze at the other woman, still thrusting sensually against the mound of pillows.

Then the woman reared up, reached between her legs and pulled the bolster out. Fiona could just see the wet spot on the pale velvet before the woman flung the bolster on the floor. She lay down upon her bed again and began to stroke and stimulate her cunny, giving it a few smacks for good measure, writhing like a woman possessed.

They continued to observe, fascinated and expecting her to climax at any second. But the woman sank into the pillows, scattered now upon the bed, resting.

Thomas pulled back a little and undid his breeches, taking out his stiff cock and letting it rest upon Fiona’s bare behind. She stepped so that her legs were farther apart, granting him full access, although the difference in their height made intercourse in this position impossible.

He hooked a foot over the leg of a low ottoman and dragged it to them. Fiona stepped upon it, holding onto the windowsill with one hand and keeping her gathered skirts up with the other.

The woman in the room opposite rose from the bed and went to the mirror, holding her breasts in her hands. She pinched her nipples hard and repeatedly.

“Do that to yourself,” Thomas said into Fiona’s ear. She felt the throbbing head of his cock enter her nether lips, but he did not thrust in. “Now. And do it as she does. Pull on your nipples and make them stand out. You have beautiful high nipples, Fiona. I could suck them all night.” He clasped her hips and her bunched-up skirts at the same time, giving her a free hand.

Fiona tugged one sensitive nipple, then the other, crying out softly when the feeling intensified, wanting only to make it more intense. Nipple teasing went right to her cunt, and her lover knew it.

“Ah,” Thomas murmured. “I love watching two big-breasted beauties play with their nipples. Keep on. It excites me tremendously.” He nudged Fiona’s swollen cunny with the tip of his cock again, still holding on to her hips. “Which one of you will come first?”

“If all you give me is the hot tip, then I will be crazy with desire. Must I wait? She will come first, mark my words,” Fiona said, wriggling back and trying to make him slide inside her. But Thomas was far stronger and held her still.

“I want to make you wait, love. Does it excite you to watch in this way?”

“Yes,” Fiona whispered.

The woman turned from the mirror and went back to the bed, rummaging through the drawers of the nightstand. She took out a huge dildo of ivory, with attached balls made of softer stuff, round and heavy, which swayed in the air when she gave them a playful slap.

“Ah. Now for some devilish good play.” Thomas’s voice roughened with male lust.

Then the woman settled back on the bed and spread her legs more widely than before, touching each bottom bedpost with an elegantly arched foot. Fiona and Thomas had an excellent view, despite the flickering of the candles next to the bed.

They watched her slide the ivory rod in and out, vigorously thrusting it into her snug pussy, obviously enjoying the bounce of the stuffed leather balls against her arse cheeks. Then, without further ado, she twisted up and around, turning her bum to them and holding in the false penis. The sudden screwing motion seemed to excite her even more.

The woman crouched on her knees, reaching back between her thighs to slide the thing in even deeper, but the last inch or so of the thick, gleaming ivory rod stuck out from her swollen nether lips.

“I would love nothing more than to see you push that dildo in for her,” Thomas said into Fiona’s ear.

“We must be content to watch,” Fiona replied. She heard Thomas gasp when the woman began to rock on all fours, making the dangling balls swing and slap hard upon her cunny.

He could stand it no longer. He rammed his cock into Fiona, all the way. She thrust back against him, matching his strokes, employing the same rhythm as the woman they watched, to give him even more stimulation.

Then…they both stopped when a door opened in the room of the house across the street and a tall, well-built man entered, quite naked.

“Perhaps he was watching her as well from the closet or the next room,” Thomas said softly, holding Fiona still once more but growing even larger inside her.

Fiona nodded. The woman, half-crazy with pleasure, didn’t even notice that she was no longer alone. Her face, when they could glimpse it, was wet with sweat, close to the ultimate satisfaction she craved, giving herself deep, repeated thrusts of the dildo and harder slaps from the attached balls, her mouth open in a moan.

Fiona could see that the woman’s eyes were closed, until she felt the man who had entered her room caress her cheek. She raised her head, eyes wide to see his enormous erection was only an inch away from her panting lips.

Thomas began to slide in and out of Fiona’s pussy again, with tantalizing slowness but he speeded up when he saw the woman take the other man’s cock into her mouth and begin to suck greedily, as if it were the most delicious thing on earth.

Unattended, the ivory rod fell out, pulled down by the heavy balls. The man took his cock from her mouth, withdrawing slowly as the woman tightened her full lips around him, reluctant to let him go. Her lover or master or whoever he was grabbed the ivory one to replace his, putting it in her mouth and making her taste her own juices. The woman licked the long dildo clean, looking up at the man with lascivious affection, eager to arouse him even more.

She succeeded. The man took the dildo away and stroked her tangled hair, her back, her haunches, as if soothing her…or preparing her for what he wanted to do next.

Then he turned around, spreading her buttocks wide open and resting his big hands upon them while Fiona and Thomas watched, transfixed. Did he prefer the tightness of the hole that women shared with men? Would he lubricate it with a dash of spit and enter her there? Her beautiful bum was the only part of the woman’s body that not been thoroughly stimulated, stroked, or pleasured with a probing finger.

Thomas and Fiona both strained to see, joined and moving in a way that made Thomas bite his lower lip to keep from ejaculating straightaway. “What next?”

“I think I know,” Fiona said softly.

The woman kept her arse up but buried her face in the pillows.

“Yes,” Fiona breathed. “She loves to play the wanton. And she loves extreme stimulation. He will give her what she craves, Thomas. Just you wait.”

“I cannot restrain myself much longer,” he growled. “Do keep still!” He clasped Fiona’s hips even more tightly. “But do keep talking…the sound of your voice is as erotic as the show…” He ended with a low moan.

“A man’s firm hand upon her soft flesh is what she wants,” Fiona went on in a whisper calculated to arouse. “A man who will discipline her but with such gentleness that her resistance melts not from fear but from opening her soul to the one who thus commands her.”

As if the man in the opposite room had heard, he curved a strong arm around the waiting woman’s hips and gave her a long, sensual, and very thorough spanking with his free hand while she cried out her pleasure and her gratitude for his skill. Then he got on his knees behind her, plunging his very real and thickly satisfying cock into the woman, stroking her sensitized buttocks with especial tenderness to take her to climax at last. The lovers reached the moment at the same second, rocking so closely together that they seemed to be one being, not two, and collapsed upon the bed, twined around each other, lost in erotic bliss.

“Thomas…oh, Thomas…”

He groaned and rammed his cock into Fiona to the hilt, moving too fast to administer the slaps and tingling smacks she enjoyed so much herself, focused entirely on the irresistible sensation that engulfed his body. Then, with another shuddering groan, he began to shoot pulsing jets of come inside her. “I cannot hold back…ohhh…my sweet love…take it all! All!” He finished with a roar and let her go, stumbling a little.

Fiona hardly cared. She would rather finish herself and remember the erotic scene they had happened to see after he had gone. Though Thomas had done his best, the subsiding organ he was wiping off at the moment was of little use to her. No, she would have a more intense climax with her own hand and her own imagination.

There came a soft knock upon the door. Fiona and Thomas hurriedly put their clothes to rights and turned away from the window.

“Who is that?”

“Sukey, no doubt. With the water for my bath.”

“Oh, of course. I quite forgot.”

“She has excellent timing.” Fiona smothered a giggle. “Just go, darling.”

Thomas cast a look at the closed door when Sukey knocked upon it again, hastily did up his breeches, threw his dark coat over his shoulders without bothering to put his arms in the sleeves, then picked up his boots.

“The footman will assist you with those.” Fiona smiled indulgently. Thomas’s dark curls and flushed cheeks gave him the look of a lad lately come from a first assignation. Yet he was only a few years younger than she, and nearly as experienced in the myriad pleasures that awaited lovers behind closed doors.

He smiled boyishly. Damn it all. If she was not careful, she might very well fall—

Never, she told herself. Not with him. In any case, Lady Fiona Gilberte did not believe in love and had never experienced that unnerving emotion.

“Give my regards to your beautiful neighbor if you should happen to see her on the street.”

“I shall do nothing of the kind.”

Thomas laughed. “Of course not. Good night, my dearest.” He clutched his boots while he gave her one last kiss, nipping her lower lip with the gentleness of a man whose passion had been fully satisfied.

“Good night, Thomas,” she said softly.

A clanking and sloshing sound came from the hall outside her door as the unseen servant set a bucket of water down heavily and gave a rather theatrical groan.

“I will leave by the other door,” said Thomas. “Though I should like to see Sukey scrub your creamy skin. The little minx must enjoy attending you, Fiona. Tell me, have you two ever—”

“Do shut up,” Fiona whispered. She waved to him, one hand on the doorknob so her maid could not come into her bedchamber too soon. He blew her a kiss and closed the other door behind him with a faint click and went down the back stairs. Lady Fiona counted to five, opened the door and looked out to see…a large, nearly full bucket standing in a puddle of water. But there was no sign of Sukey.

The puddle of water, nice and hot, seeped quickly into one of her silk slippers. Fie! Was she supposed to lift the damned bucket herself?

Fiona would not. Indeed, she could not. She peered into the corridor and saw Sukey at the other end, talking to the footman, Summers, who usually helped Thomas with his boots. The fellow had one hand on the little maid’s round rump and the other was sliding between the front folds of her gown to feel her breasts. As usual, Sukey seized every opportunity to find someone who would appreciate her charms.

“Sukey!”

The maid whirled around before the footman had a chance to let go of the front of her gown. Her breasts popped out, pink-tipped and plump and startlingly white in the half-light of the hall. The footman gasped out an apology, whether to the maid or to her, Fiona could not tell.

Sukey drew the edges of her opened gown together, in no very great hurry to do so.

Fiona only shrugged. She was well aware that the wanton maid thought nothing of displaying her body, having been encouraged to do so by her lecherous master—Fiona’s late and unlamented husband—who had been so kind as to seduce the new girl at once and get her with child in the first year of her employment at Aldrich Hall. Sukey had given the unfortunate infant, a boy, to Coram Foundling Hospital on the day of its birth and never spoke of it again.

But Fiona had kept her on nonetheless, feeling that Sukey would be unlikely to disapprove of her mistress’s own affairs. A prudish innocent might whisper to the housekeeper and other servants. Therefore, Sukey was permitted a degree of familiarity that Fiona would not countenance from the rest of the staff.

The maid was well paid—and allowed to choose from milady’s discarded dresses and inconsequential jewelry from milady’s discarded lovers. Were she not bribed in this fashion, Sukey might take it into her head to carry tales to the London scandal sheets, as Fiona knew.

She looked at the footman, who stood up even straighter, his dignity preserved by the rapid decrease in size of a magnificent erection still somewhat visible under his tight breeches. Her late husband had hired only servants with the proportions of classical statuary, liking to watch them rut and romp from various peepholes that he’d had drilled into every secret place in the vast Mayfair house.

At first Bertie had invited Fiona, his newly wedded third wife, to join him in this pastime; but she had politely declined. Her explanation: it was quite impossible to sound properly authoritative to servants she would see naked, whether or not they would know it.

Her elderly husband had not seemed to mind her refusal, since he had married her chiefly for her decorative qualities anyway. And he had cared not a whit that she was no longer a virgin, and had never asked her for particulars on that score.

A good thing, too. She would have hated to explain, with the customary tears and tragic protestations of ruined innocence, that he simply wasn’t the first man who’d bedded her. Or the second. Or even the third.

She had married Bertie for his money, not having a penny to call her own despite her impeccable bloodlines. Fiona’s father, the impoverished son of a venerable earl who was never going to die, had made the match—and as good as sold his only daughter, she often thought.

This particular footman, Summers, had been hired just before Bertie’s death and perhaps had not known of his master’s voyeurism. But Fiona imagined he might well prove a satisfying stud. He seemed to be trying not to look at Sukey as the maid sauntered down the hall to her mistress.

“Come. Prepare my bath,” she said impatiently. “The water is precisely the right temperature. And do not look at me like that. Such impertinence.”

Sukey tossed her head and gave Fiona an insolent look before bending down to the bucket’s handle. She hoisted it with ease and brought it through the doorway without spilling a drop, kicking the door shut behind her like a performing pony.

She lugged the bucket through the bedchamber into a connecting alcove, where a gleaming tub stood on lion’s paws of bronze. There she lifted the bucket high and poured in the hot water all in one go, a crystalline stream that splashed into the cold water already in the bathtub, sparkling in the candlelight. Steam rose from the tub in delicate wisps.

“Shall I undress you, my lady?” Sukey inquired, looking as if she knew perfectly well that someone already had, at least half way. The rumpled state of her mistress’s black velvet gown—the disheveled bed, which looked very much as if someone had been clawing at the covers while in the throes of bliss—gave the evening’s delights away.

Of course, the maid knew nothing of the lovers in the house across the street…Fiona caught a knowing glance from Sukey. Hmm. Perhaps the girl had she seen the show. “There is no need for that, I can manage. Just go.”

Sukey nodded and took her leave, swinging the empty bucket by her side and closing the door quietly enough behind her. Fiona heard the maid’s footsteps echo down the hall and return, then patter down the stairs. Evidently the easily aroused Summers had decamped. Fiona had no doubt that Sukey hoped to finish what she’d started.

If she didn’t waylay Summers, the maid would have to find another man to tease. It was a miracle that Sukey got any work done at all.

Fiona undid the ties of her bodice and let the black velvet gown fall into a heap on the floor, stepping out of it. Since Thomas had already done away with her drawers, she was quite naked, not having bothered with stays.

She pushed the dress aside with one foot and walked to the alcove, enjoying the feel of the cool night air on her heated skin, wearing nothing but the triple strand of pearls. The rim of the bathtub was wide, warmed by the water within, and there she perched, swishing a hand to and fro through the water, anticipating the delicious sensation of a good long soak.

She touched a hand to her tender nether lips, still slick from Thomas’s spunk, wondering if it might be a better idea to wash there first, separately, and deciding that it would.

There was a porcelain ewer and a matching basin resting upon an ebony table in the alcove. Fiona rose, picking up the ewer and dipping it into the tub. She poured the water into the basin and added a soft cloth, wringing it out to just the right juiciness before rubbing it luxuriously between her legs, cleaning herself as thoroughly as a cat.

Stimulating her already far too stimulated flesh in this fashion aroused her once more. She dropped the washcloth back into the basin and stood before the mirror, legs apart, admiring her proud breasts and curving hips for a few seconds. Then Fiona took the little bud that just showed between her nether lips with her forefinger and thumb and stroked it. With womanly delicacy, she increased the speed of her strokes until she felt soft thrills pulse through her body. Fiona closed her eyes, dropping her head back and letting the deeply sensual feeling overtake her.

It was her third climax of the night and much stronger than the two that Thomas had given her before they watched the passionate encounter across the street. A solo session could be extremely enjoyable, she thought dreamily. Of course, she couldn’t very well spank herself or kiss her own flesh or writhe the way she liked to in the powerful grip of masculine hands.

Nonetheless, entirely satisfied, she turned once more to her bath and stepped in, settling into the warm water with a blissful sigh. Fiona watched the candles flicker through half–closed eyes, not thinking of anything at all. Relaxed and happy and delighted to be alone, she lolled in the water until it grew cold.

A draft was coming from the bedroom. Perhaps Sukey had left a window open. Fiona shivered and sat up, reaching for a towel and patting the wet pearls that encircled her neck, then rubbing her breasts and arms somewhat dry.

She gripped the rim of the tub and rose from the still water, dripping and looking about for her new robe. Ah. There it was, on a nearby hook. Its silken folds shimmered in the candlelight, and its elaborate embroidery of full-blown peonies and butterflies seemed to glow. Hardly a practical garment, but then Lady Fiona owned very few garments that fit that description.

Her wardrobe was designed to be alluring. Workaday woolens and puritanical linens were not fabrics that interested her in the slightest. She preferred sheer things, soft things against her sensitive skin. And if her dress and underthings could be easily removed by her lover du jour, so much the better. Being attended by a lady’s maid before and after an amorous interlude had definite drawbacks. Though Sukey, a little hussy if ever there was one, never seemed shocked by anything.

Fiona clambered out of the bathtub rather awkwardly. Well, no one could be a picture of elegance all the time, she thought, not when faced with the peril of falling on a slippery surface and landing on one’s backside with a loud splat.

She tossed the towel with which she had dried her neck onto the floor, and picked up another, wrapping it around her hips and rubbing her bottom slowly and sensually. If Thomas were watching, he would have had her on her knees immediately, her head down and her hands reaching over her hips to spread fully open for him.

He loved to look at her that way, loved to stretch her cunny a bit wider to see the luscious pink of its inside walls before he began the two-fingered fucking she liked so much. Then, before she could have his thick cock, he would give her the royal treatment: prolonged, deeply erotic foreplay followed by delicious bare-bottom disclipine that combined mastery and gentleness. Exactly what the nameless lovers in the house across the street had enjoyed together. Fiona had relished the unexpected show. Very much.

She melted with pleasure when Thomas spanked her that way, not caring if her buttocks quivered under his welcome chastisement—a quivering she could not control and did not want to control, because she knew that the sight aroused him beyond measure.

And she loved the feeling of shameful pleasure that pulsed through her, loved hiding her face in her tumbled hair, a woman with no name and no identity for a little while, begging with her whole body and a few gasped-out words to be dominated by him.

Then, when he could restrain himself no longer, he would ram his hot shaft inside her all the way, until she screamed his name and came hard, thrusting her hips back, back, back…taking every drop of his hot come as he too cried out with lusty joy.

Tucking the towel between her legs, she squeezed and then let it drop, reaching for another to dry her legs with quick strokes before slipping into her gorgeous robe. The mirror cast back a reflection that pleased her and she turned this way and that, enjoying the glorious colors and the way it felt to be swathed in expensive China silk.

Her bed had been turned down and a warming pan placed between the sheets, she saw as she entered the room. Had Sukey come and gone so quietly? Yes, her black velvet dress had been picked up by unseen hands and put away. Fiona realized that she must have dozed a little in her bath, but no matter. How pleasant to simply curl up in a welcoming bed and drift into dreams without further ado.

She bent over the bed, taking out the warming pan and setting it to one side. Then Fiona slipped her robe down her shoulders, enjoying it for a few seconds more before putting it over the chair that stood by the bed.

Quite naked, she slid between the warmed sheets and pulled the swan’s-down comforter up to her chin. Heaven. And she was content to be alone. She would sleep well tonight.