To Love, Honour & Betray. Penny Jordan

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      ‘You’re leaving Blade and Estelle at home on their own?’ one neighbour had asked, unable to conceal her feelings.

      ‘Blade’s an adult,’ Lorraine had reminded her, affronted, ‘and he and Estelle get on wonderfully well together. In point of fact, they’re closer in many ways than if they were actually brother and sister. He’s very protective of her. It’s quite sweet, really.

      ‘Nosy cow,’ she had said angrily to Ethian later. ‘Just because she runs around those noisy brats of hers all day long and enjoys playing earth mother and martyr.’

      Estelle’s bathroom was mirrored all along one wall. Blade’s suggestion and her fifteenth-birthday present from her parents. When she walked into it, she didn’t bother closing the door. She tugged off the skimpy dress she had been wearing, let it fall to the floor and then stood in front of the mirror staring at her reflection. Her mouth was swollen, the bright red lipstick she favoured smeared. She was tall and slim, her breasts firm and high enough for her not to need to bother wearing a bra, and besides, she liked the feel of her nipples rubbing against the fabric of her clothes and she liked even more the looks she got from men when they saw their taut outline.

      Eyes half-closed, she licked the swollen flesh of her mouth, sliding her hand inside her knickers so that she could feel her own wetness. A familiar clutching sensation seized her lower belly. Closing her eyes, she wriggled out of her knickers.

      She heard the bathroom door close and slowly opened her eyes, one hand still on her body, teasing the quivering piece of flesh her clitoris had become, the other still holding her wet knickers, her gaze locking with Blade’s as she returned his silently intense scrutiny.

      ‘What have you been doing?’ he demanded expressionlessly as he came towards her, the question almost a mild, uncritical whisper, but Estelle knew better. Her heart started to pound as she felt the onset of a familiar feverish excitement and fear.

      ‘Smell,’ she taunted, holding out her knickers to him. As she knew he would, he took them, smoothing them out very gently before inhaling the scent of her sex from them. Her sex and no one else’s.

      ‘Come here,’ he ordered, still using the same soft, gentle voice, but Estelle wasn’t deceived. Trembling from head to foot with the sensation that to her was almost more pleasurable than the release from it that lay ahead, she did as he instructed.

      As she approached him, Blade unzipped his jeans, and as she had expected, he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. His penis was stiff and rigidly erect, rising from its bed of thick, coarse, tangled dark hair. In the early days of their intimacy, his sexual organ had fascinated her and as a punishment for her ‘transgressions’ he had ordered her to wash his penis for him, sometimes by lapping it with her tongue, sometimes with soap and water.

      Walking past her now, he lay down on the floor and commanded, ‘Come here.’ Estelle’s whole body convulsed, quivering with sexual urgency. ‘Sit on it,’ he demanded, drawing her towards his erect penis.

      Willingly she complied, straddling him and lowering herself eagerly onto him. As she did so, he started to thrust upwards so forcefully that the sensation of him inside her was almost more pain than pleasure and at the same time he reached down between her legs and used his fingers on her clitoris.

      It was too much for her self-control. Within seconds she had started to climax.

      They spent what was left of the night in her bathroom and after he had finally spent himself and had his orgasm, Estelle knew that she was going to be sore, but she didn’t care. She had loved every moment with Blade, every moment.

      The memory of that high still had the power to make her smile and to make her wet, very, very wet indeed. She was smiling now, her hand automatically reaching between her legs, her body turned into the protection of Blade’s doorway as she heard him answer her phone call.

      ‘Blade, it’s me, Estelle,’ she told him softly. ‘Are you in?’ That question was their private code and meant ‘I want sex.’

      She could almost feel the dark, triumphant smile slicing his face as he told her softly, ‘No, I’m afraid I’m not. It’s all right, darling,’ she heard him saying as he half covered the receiver. ‘It’s only my sister.’ Then his voice dropped to a whiplash sting of mocking sound as he told her, ‘If you’re really desperate for it, Estelle, I could always talk you through it. You’ve always enjoyed that, haven’t you? Or, of course, you could come round and watch … even join in.’

      Furious, Estelle cut the connection. She was more than well aware of Blade’s predilection for voyeurism and three in a bed, but right now she wasn’t in the mood for playing games or sharing. Right now she wanted him to herself. All to herself.

      Angrily, she turned on her heel and started to walk towards her own apartment building. There was a man standing on the pavement several feet away from her, waiting to cross the road.

      Hungrily, Estelle studied him, her eyes gleaming with predatory sexual urgency. He wasn’t her type, though, thin and pallid-looking, his body stance limp and docile, and no doubt his sex was the same.

      Glaring at him in disgust, Estelle mentally cursed Blade, knowing how much he would be enjoying having the woman who was with him right now, all the more so because he knew Estelle was going hungry … wanting him, needing him.

      3

      Uneasily, Garth glanced at his watch as he replaced the receiver following yet another unanswered call to Claudia.

      It was now gone one o’clock in the morning. Claudia might have been going out but … At this time of the night, with the roads almost empty, it would take him less than two hours to drive to Upper Charfont. He was sorely tempted to do so, but he knew perfectly well how Claudia would react to his unheralded arrival at that time of night. And someone who knew them both was almost bound to see his car there—Upper Charfont was that kind of town. Not that he minded, but he knew that Claudia would.

      He would ring her first thing in the morning, he promised himself—if indeed she was there to be rung and not … not what?

      Not with Luke Palliser.

      Irritably, Garth stretched his now-tense body, wincing as he heard the tell-tale crack of his neck. Without being vain, he knew he was in damn good shape for his age. He looked after himself, ate well and sensibly, exercised moderately, regularly counted his blessings amongst which Tara had to be close to the top of the list of the most valued and precious of all the good things that life had given him. The price of having her in his life had come so high, though, that there had been times when to his own shame he had almost wished she had never come into being and times, too, when he had been acutely and ridiculously jealous of the intensity and immensity of Claudia’s love for her, but then he suspected he had always been far more passionately in love with Claudia than she had been with him.

      He could still remember the sense of dismay he had experienced when his then commanding officer, Claudia’s father, had announced that he wished Garth to escort his daughter to the regimental ball. He had known only that the brigadier had a daughter and that she was away at university and he wasn’t quite sure what he had expected.

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