Three. Noelle Mack

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.

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