Submitting to His Lordship (21 page)

After struggling with the awkward intrusion into her mouth, Isabella managed to calm her reflexes. Devon pulled her head to and fro so that her mouth moved up and down his shaft. Occasionally she appeared to choke when he pushed himself too far into her mouth.

“Is there a reason for your hesitation?” Devon asked Rockwell with a pointed look at the baron’s crotch.

Rockwell frowned for the hundredth time at Lord Devon before unbuttoning his own pants. Deana had seen the Baron’s cock before but not at such an intimate distance. Like Isabella, she stared at the appendage with its bulbous head and rigid veins. She had never taken a man’s cock into her mouth before. She looked into his eyes. His pupils seemed to have melted.

She parted her lips. He took the invitation and inserted the top of his cock. She tasted a drop of saltiness upon her tongue. He eased more of himself into her mouth. She wondered how this member had become so hard. She wrapped her lips closely about him and thought she heard him groan. He closed his eyes. Reveling in her ability to have such an effect upon him, she attempted to take more of his cock. But when it reached her throat, she, too, could not refrain from gagging. He retracted himself. Wanting to try again, she grabbed his cock and guided it into her mouth once more. Surprised, he allowed her. She was unsure if taking a cock into her mouth was demeaning or empowering, but it was clearly something that the men enjoyed.

“Yes, yes!” Devon cried as he bucked his hips at Lady Isabella. “Eat it as if it were your last meal!”

Deana attempted to glide her mouth in a similar manner up and down Lord Rockwell’s erection. Eventually she found a rhythm, cradling him upon her tongue. She liked the sound of him groaning as he eased himself further into her.

“You’ve a natural ability, Miss Sherwood,” he grunted, fisting his hand into her hair.

On the other side of the room, Devon growled as he began to spend. Isabella appeared to retch. Halfway through, he pulled out his cock and sprayed the remainder of his seed about her face. A bit found its way into her hair. Devon stumbled backwards, shaking his head.

Deana looked at Rockwell, wondering if the same end would come to her. But Rockwell pulled himself out completely. She could not help her disappointment. She wanted to bring him to spend.

“That was delightful, my dear,” Devon said to her ladyship. After collecting himself, he looked over at Rockwell. “Problem?”

“I can wait,” Rockwell responded evenly.

“Why wait? Or is it you cannot run more than one race?”

Rockwell made no reply.

“See there? Mine is hardening again already,” Devon said as he fondled himself.

“You have a need to impress me?” Rockwell inquired.

Devon rolled his eyes, then turned his attention to the bed. He patted the mattress. “Up here, my dear.”

Wiping at her face, Lady Isabella made her way to the bed. Devon had her face the footboard and applied a pair of short shackles to her wrists. They pulled her down and made her look as if she were embracing the mattress. He lifted her hips so that she was on her knees, her derriere high in the air. Devon began to shed his clothes.

While Halsten unlaced his cravat, Deana went to assume the same position on the bed. Earlier she had avoided gazing at the other couple, but now she felt a little transfixed at seeing them. There was undoubtedly a wanton quality at witnessing others, a quality that was both uncomfortable and titillating. Rockwell certainly looked over frequently, but was it because he found stimulation from being a spectator or was it Lady Isabella that drew his gaze? Sans her beautiful attire, her ladyship was no less attractive.

Deana was able to glimpse and admire the naked form of Lord Rockwell before he applied similar shackles to her wrists. Pinned to the bed, she could do little more than shift her head from side to side. He lifted her hips, and her cunnie tingled in anticipation.

Devon had walked over to the wall and found two wooden paddles. He tossed one to Rockwell.

“Let us make their arses red with anger.”

Isabella began to whimper.

Deana twisted her head and could barely make out Lord Devon and Lady Isabella from the corners of her eyes. She felt the bed sink with Rockwell’s weight. He was kneeling behind her. Once more she felt his hand between her legs. With a delighted moan, she parted her legs further to allow him full access. He fondled the nub of flesh at the gates of her womanhood, coaxing from her that clear honey of desire. With his other hand, he caressed the curve of her rump. He swatted one cheek. His next blow landed a little heavier, but nothing to make her jump. She was more engrossed in the delightful sensations being generated between her legs. He strummed her clitoris while pressing his thumb upon a raised and sensitive area inside of her. Wonderful, agonizing tension flared deep and hot inside of her.

Whap!

Devon had applied the paddle to Lady Isabella, who screamed. Both Rockwell and Deana stilled.

Whap!

Another scream.

The paddle was thicker and harder than the tails of a flogger, Deana considered. Rockwell resumed his fondling, and she forgot her concerns. Would he let her spend? Could she spend before witnesses?

Yes, oh yes
, she answered herself when his ministrations intensified. He slapped her derriere with his hand. The bright sting felt delicious. Awash in that tangled mix of pain and pleasure, she felt her ascent looming.

But then he let fall the paddle, and she heard her own scream.

The pain was large and penetrating. She heard a steady rain of slaps from the other side of the room.

“Stop! Please stop!” Isabella cried. “Ah!”

Deana hoped her ladyship screamed for effect. She hoped Lady Isabella remembered the safety word.

The paddle struck the bottom of her own buttock, and Deana gritted her teeth. Rockwell attended to her cunnie once more. Moaning, she reveled in his skills as he took her body through that blissful craving. The sounds from the other side of the room blurred with her increased desire, her increased need for release. He rubbed her more intensely, making her toes curl. She prayed he would not stop. Her cries became ones of urgency and anticipation.

But just as she approached the precipice, he withdrew his hand and once more applied the paddle. It smarted, but she was more intent on her release. She pushed her cunnie at him, wanting him to finish the job. He spanked her once more with the paddle.

“Ah! Please...” she groaned.

On the other side of the room, Lord Devon discarded the paddle and lay upon his back, his head between Lady Isabella’s thighs. He pulled her cunnie down to his face.

Lady Isabella looked as if her eyes might pop from their sockets, but then her eyelids lowered as she realized the pleasure from Lord Devon’s efforts. Deana and Rockwell both paused to observe her.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Isabella cried, then shuddered as paroxysms of ecstasy overcame her.

Filled with envy, Deana implored Rockwell to continue, arching her back and pushing her backside toward him.

“Are you offering your arse or your cunnie?” he asked in response to her movements.

“Please finish the deed,” she murmured.

He caressed her sodden flesh, then buried his cock inside of her.

Glory!
Her cunnie took him in hungrily. He sank the full length of his cock into her. She closed her eyes and marveled at the fullness between her legs. Circling an arm around her hip, he played with her clitoris. It did not take long for her to become undone. His thick, hard rod filling her combined with the stimulation of her clitoris shot her over the precipice. She shattered into spasms, losing all control of her limbs.

She had yet to recover when he began his next assault. He bucked against her, holding her up by the waist. His scrotum slapped against her nether lips. She felt the hair at his groin against her arse as he drove himself deep inside of her. At first there was some discomfort as her first wave receded, blocked in part by another coming wave. As the second grew in size, she felt herself awash once more. His cock pommelled into her cunnie with increasing speed.

“My God! My God!” she screamed.

Her body crashed into the heavens. All else became nothing.

* * * * *

When Deana settled back down, she became vaguely aware that Rockwell had pulled out of her. Her legs had buckled beneath her and she lay prone upon the bed. She heard panting and grunting from the other side of the room. Prying open her eyes, she saw Devon buried inside Isabella, pounding her into the mattress. With a howl, Devon found his release and collapsed onto the bed.

Rockwell got off the bed, and Deana saw his cock was still stiff. Why had he not pushed himself to spend? Did he find her unsatisfactory somehow? Did he not wish to impose upon her now that she had finished? Or was he somehow saving himself for Lady Isabella? She watched Rockwell approach Lady Isabella and release the shackles from her wrists. She turned onto her side and lay beside Lord Devon.

Returning, Rockwell then removed the shackles form Deana. She sat up and rubbed her wrists as Rockwell gathered his clothes. He stepped into his trousers and pulled on his shirt. Assisting her off the bed, he assumed the role of chambermaid and helped her into her shift, stays, and gown. The rest he slung over an arm. He looked over at Lady Isabella and Lord Devon, who had begun to snore in his sleep.

“Come, we have fulfilled our loss at whist,” Rockwell told her.

They left the room and headed back to the West Wing. Cognizant that they were scantily clad, she hoped they would not come across anyone.

“The guests in the East Wing are often in a state of lesser dress,” Rockwell said as if reading her mind.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Rockwell appeared grim. He must not have enjoyed himself, she concluded. Surely it was unpleasant to watch another man with the woman he wanted for himself.

“Perhaps we ought not have played whist,” she said as they approached her room.

He looked at her sharply. “I’m sorry you had to endure the consequences.”

“No, I have no regrets. I wanted to experience the East Wing. It was...wanton and thrilling.”

He seemed relieved.

“I only meant that you seemed the least agreeable to it.”

“If it pleased you, Miss Herwood, then I am satisfied. How fares your arse?”

“I think I shall not enjoy sitting tomorrow.”

He grinned. “Perhaps you will think twice before ever accepting a proposition from Lord Devon.”

“Alas, I am prone to accepting improper propositions.”

His gaze bored into her, and without warning, he pinned her against the door with his body. His mouth descended on hers, engulfing her yelp of surprise. He raised both her arms above her, locking her head in position as he devoured her. She could barely catch a breath, and for the moment, she cared not that he wanted the Lady Isabella. He was with her, and she would satisfy him.

She attempted to return his kiss, but he was too much in command, too hungry. She felt the hardness of his desire against her and arched her back, pushing herself further into him. He opened the door, and they tumbled into the darkened room. She fell on top of him, their lips still joined. His left hand cradled her head while his right hand grasped a buttock firmly. She ground herself against his erection.

They kissed as if searching for something within the other to satiate their appetites. Her head spun from the effort to keep up with his forceful exertions. He rolled her beneath him, and moved the one hand from her head to a breast. Her stays had been loosely tied and slipped to allow him access to her nipple. He pinched it gently through her garments. She cried out as the nipple was still sensitive from the clamps.

With a groan, he pulled her up, swept her off her feet, and deposited her upon the bed. Her hands made quick work of his shirt and pants. Remembering his look when she had him in her mouth, she encased his cock once more and sucked hard. She tried to take in as much of him as she could, but her inexperience made her gag when he hit the back of her throat. Forcing herself to relax, she made an attempt with better success. Rockwell emitted an oath and undulated his hips, pushing his cock in and out of her mouth.

He pulled her head away. “You’ll make me spend.”

She stared at him. “That is the intent, my lord.”

Shaking his head, he pushed her into the bed and turned her on her stomach to access the buttons upon her gown and the ribbons of her stays. Soon he had her stripped to the buff once more and on her back. His hands roamed over her body, kneading breasts, gripping hips, and squeezing her buttocks before finding their way between her legs. Still wet from before, she felt slippery to the touch. She enjoyed his caresses there but she wanted him in a deeper way.

“Take me with your cock,” she said in a husky voice beside his ear.

He looked into her eyes as if contemplating the invitation, then slid off the bed. He pulled her to the edge of the bed and spread her thighs wide. His thumb strummed her clitoris, heating the familiar sensations of delight and agitation.

“Take me,” she implored.

“Your servant, Miss Herwood,” he replied, pointing his cock at her cunnie and driving it into her.