To Disappear (24 page)

Lydia flushed with hot fervor at the idea of masturbating in front of her dark trinity. But her hand moved slowly to her vulva, her fingers beginning to work with accustomed ease over her flesh. She had not manipulated herself with erotic intimacy in a number of weeks, but knew exactly how she liked to be touched.

The men watched her as sensations began to twine through her body, as she pressed her fingers into herself and massaged the little knot of pleasure. Her back arched as pressure began to mount, her channel still throbbing from the delicious invasions, and within moments a second orgasm rocked violently through her exhausted body. She cried out, her fingers working furiously as she absorbed every luscious, sensual vibration.

Preston knelt beside her and stroked a hand slowly across her burnished front. ‘You see,’ he murmured, ‘how easy it can be when you learn to accept your situation?’

Lydia’s eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him, her brown eyes luminous. ‘Why did you want me here?’ she whispered. ‘Why me?’

‘So you would finally learn who you truly are.’

Lydia sat up slowly, wincing as her reddened flesh throbbed in protest. ‘How do you know who I am?’

‘Ah, I’ve always known, even when we were younger,’ Preston said. ‘You may have thought you were so well bred, so proud, but really all you ever wanted was to give up your airs and graces. Think about Cassie, how she lured you into discovering the pleasures of feminine flesh. You never would have learned if she hadn’t been bold enough to take the lead.

‘And think about Alex Walker. After Cassie, you began to realize the power of your body, didn’t you? You became assertive with your sexuality. Did you expect Alex to do the same thing? He turned the tables on you, showing you exactly how exquisite it feels to be subjected to the authority of one more powerful than you. You never forgot that, did you? You remembered every aspect of it, everything he made you feel.

‘They were your real lovers, Cassie and Alex. They were the ones who introduced you to your true nature. You forgot about it though, when you went to university and then started work. You continued your role of the proud, confident, savvy young woman while all the while you secretly longed for someone to take you imperiously in the ways that Cassie and Alex had.’

His fingers stroked through her hair. ‘For one so strong, you needed someone stronger. For one so in control, you needed to be controlled. And for one so accustomed to dispensing pleasure and pain… oh yes. You didn’t know that? You caused people pain with your rejections, your taunting, your flirting. When all the while you needed to be the recipient of such treatment, needed to feel it yourself.’

Lydia stared at Preston in disbelief, unable to fathom the truth of his words. She had never imagined that her early sexual experiences might affect her to the degree he had just exposed.

‘And that’s what you always wanted to do, isn’t it?’ she whispered.

He smiled. ‘I have often dreamed of nothing else.’

Preston entered Lydia’s bedroom. Her bed was rumpled, a cotton dress lay discarded on the floor, and her dressing table was strewn with lotions and powders. A Mozart sonata lingered on the air from the CD player in the corner, and the door to the bathroom was partially open, emitting a misty cloud of fragrant humidity.

Smiling to himself, he went into the bathroom. Lydia was lounging in the tub with her eyes closed, her head resting back against a small inflatable pillow. Peach-scented bubbles covered the surface of the water, and her creamy skin was flushed pink with heat and moisture, making her look as edible as a soft, scrumptious teacake.

‘Are you enjoying yourself?’ he asked, and Lydia’s eyes flew open, her face pinking further, which rather delighted him. He had thought that after her self-discovery several nights before, she might have lost her modesty in front of him, but he was pleased to discover that didn’t appear to be the case.

‘I hope you’re not doing something naughty underneath all those bubbles,’ he mused as he sat on the edge of the tub.

‘I’m not quite that insatiable,’ Lydia replied.

‘Aren’t you?’

She eyed him somewhat warily. ‘You still think I am?’

‘I still think you’re capable of anything,’ Preston admitted. ‘Although I cherish the fact that you’ve discovered the truth about certain aspects of yourself, I know these things take time. There are ebbs and flows to everything, including self-discovery.’

He took a washcloth from a rack and dipped it into the hot water, instructing Lydia to rise, and she looked at him with a glimmer of trepidation.

‘What for?’ she asked warily.

Preston tutted. ‘Now, now, don’t forget yourself already. Do as I say. On your feet, please.’

She rose in a mini cascade of perfumed water and soapy bubbles, making him think of a beautiful mermaid rising from the ocean. His cock instantly tightened in his trousers at the delicious vision of her wet, naked body. He took the washcloth and began stroking it over her, creating a lathery coating. Intent on his task, he rubbed the cloth beneath the soft under-curves of Lydia’s breasts, over the erect buds of her nipples, the smooth crescendo of her waist and hips, and down to the sleek length of her legs.

Lydia’s breathing became audible as the cloth moved with leisurely ease over her, stimulating her blood. Her skin glowed with a rosy hue made all the more enchanting by the cascades of froth slipping from her body.

Preston slid the cloth between her legs, slowly rubbing it against her inner thighs. To his amusement and approval her legs parted to allow him access to the smooth fissures of her sex. He stroked the cloth into the soft creases, noting that her vulva was beginning to feel rough with stubble.

‘Hmm,’ he murmured, ‘I see you’re in need of another shave.’

Lydia’s thighs tensed. ‘I was going to—’

‘Hush,’ Preston cooed, ‘you’ve been very good about keeping yourself shaven, but this is not acceptable, now is it?’

Lydia anxiously nibbled the fullness of her lower lip. ‘No, of course not,’ she acknowledged.

Preston stood and moved to the bathroom cabinet to get a razor, while Lydia watched and waited apprehensively.

‘Preston, I can do it,’ she said hastily. ‘Really, I was going to—’

‘I don’t appreciate your tone, Lydia,’ he said sharply and frowned. ‘Go and lie on your bed.’

She looked as if she were about to protest further, but then lowered her gaze and reached for a towel, but Preston promptly grabbed it from her hand.

‘Go, do as I say,’ he ordered sternly, and Lydia hastened from the bathroom, leaving a trail of fragrant water and bubbles as she padded into the bedroom, while Preston filled a bowl with warm water and another with shaving lather before following her.

To his delight she was stretched out on the bed in the proper position with her knees bent and her legs parted, although now she was reddening from embarrassment rather than heat from her bath.

Her skin still glistened with beads of water, making Preston want to lick them up with sweeps of his tongue. But he resisted the urge and positioned himself between her legs, examining the fullness of her intimate lips, unsurprised to feel her dampening already as he began smoothing lather over her mons. Her arousal was still quick and strong in spite of her shame.

Entirely pleased with her reaction he began carefully sweeping the blade over the offending stubble, and Lydia’s thighs tensed in response to the kiss of the sharp metal, her hands clenching at her sides as she fought her natural instincts to jerk away from it. A musky scent rose from her sleek folds, mingling with the fragrance of peaches and shaving lather.

Preston thoroughly enjoyed his task, and pressed his hands against Lydia’s soft inner thighs to indicate that she should spread herself more fully. He smiled, thinking he could not have planned this entire scenario more to his satisfaction. Carefully he stroked the blade over Lydia’s intimate peaks and valleys until her nether regions fairly glistened with smoothness. Then he rubbed a few drops of oil into her flesh, his fingers brushing against her clitoris.

He briefly considered manipulating her to an orgasm, but decided against it. It was, after all, important for her to remember that they would not allow her to climax during every sensual interlude.

‘All right, my dear,’ he said, wiping his fingers on a towel. ‘You are sufficiently exposed again now.’

Lydia’s skin tingled as she rose, reaching automatically for a robe to cover herself, and she met Preston’s gaze briefly before looking away.

‘You thought it would become easier, did you?’ he called knowingly, as he returned the items to the bathroom. ‘It might do, some day, but you are still too fresh, Lydia. Too raw and untrained.’

She looked at him curiously when he came back into the bedroom. ‘What made you choose the name Lydia?’ she asked.

‘Ah.’ Preston lowered himself into a chair opposite her, crossing his legs. He gazed at her for a moment, delighted again at the knowledge that she was his to command. When younger he would never have imagined that one day they would hold these respective positions. Indeed, such a scenario would have existed only in the depths of his fantasies where all his lecherous, erotic thoughts of the young Lydia had taken root, and only now were they truly blossoming.

‘Lydia was an ancient region, actually,’ he explained. ‘Located on the coast of Asia Minor and ruled by the wealthy King Croesus. The king once consulted an oracle regarding what he should do to live a happy life, and the oracle responded, “Know yourself, Croesus. Thus you will live and be happy”. While Croesus found that to be a difficult task, here at
La Lierre et le Chêne
you can do nothing else. Everything we do is intended for the purpose of knowing yourself.

‘Lydia was also the home of Arachne,’ he continued, ‘a young girl who was such a skilled weaver that she challenged the goddess Athena to a competition. Athena, although enraged by the girl’s conceit, eventually agreed to the challenge, and wove a magnificent tapestry of her contest with Poseidon for the patronage of the city of Athens. Although everyone doubted that Arachne could create anything as beautiful as Athena’s work, the girl sat down at her loom and began to weave.

‘For her theme, Arachne wove a tapestry of the love affair of the gods, who were engaged in wanton acts with mortal women. Athena grabbed the tapestry and tried to find flaws in the work, but the girl’s weaving was utterly flawless. So angered by the subject matter and furiously jealous, Athena tore the tapestry to pieces.

‘Then she changed Arachne into a spider, condemning her and all her descendants to a life of eternal weaving. Again, this is a vastly important aspect of living on this plantation. Life here is an endless array of spinning fantasies, weaving beautiful scenarios to create tapestries of visual and sensual pleasure.’

Preston thought for a moment, and then went on. ‘Oh yes, and Lydia was also the home of Tantalus, a rather unfortunate king who tested the power of the gods by serving them a stew with the massacred remains of his son to see if they could determine what he had done.

‘As punishment he was condemned to reside in the Underworld. He was placed in a pool of water beneath abundant fruit trees. When he bent to drink the water would recede, and when he reached for a fruit the wind would push it out of his reach. He also had a huge boulder hung over his head, which constantly threatened to fall and crush him.’

‘Well, that’s not very pleasant or romantic at all,’ Lydia pouted.

Preston chuckled. ‘Not at first glance, but think about it. The word “tantalize” comes from Tantalus, and we love all things tantalizing here. The difference is that while Tantalus is forever hungry, our desires are sated. We actually reach the succulent fruit and drink the cool water. Of course, we become hungry shortly thereafter once again, so draw your conclusions of that.’

‘And there are metaphorical boulders threatening to fall on all our heads,’ Lydia retorted.

Preston snorted laughter, his eyes twinkling merrily. ‘Ah, Lydia, you are a sharp one. I hadn’t thought of that, although I suppose it’s true to some extent. But rest assured that the boulder never falls upon poor Tantalus. Nor will it fall upon us. Ever.’

He rose and crossed the room to her, pressing his lips against her forehead.

‘She was reigned over, Lydia was,’ he murmured. ‘And my own ruled Lydia should take the advice of King Croesus’s oracle. Know yourself and you will be happy. I believe you’re already on that path.’

Lydia stretched her arms above her head as a breeze whispered through her hair. The hammock swayed lazily, rocking her in a gentle, comforting rhythm. She pressed her feet into the soft grass and rubbed them slowly, feeling the blades tickle her soles.

She lifted her hand to shade her eyes as she saw Gabriel approaching from the mansion. She liked watching him; the slow, easy movements of his body reminded her of animal grace – the swoop of birds, a cat’s predatory walk, the supple cadence of a swimming dolphin.

Lydia thought that Gabriel had missed his calling. Instead of living in the corporate world as she had, he seemed to belong in nature. He would fit in perfectly walking among fragrant trees, feeling the breeze off the roaring ocean, stretching out underneath the deep blue sky.

She smiled to herself. Maybe Gabriel’s own situation at the plantation was also a strange blessing in disguise. As with her, he had slipped away from a world of business suits, lengthy contracts, portfolios, mergers and meetings, and into a world of natural delights.
La Lierre et le Chêne
was certainly a place in which Gabriel belonged.