They all wore nightgowns of transparent silks that clung to round breasts and crested over erect rouged nipples. One was willowy and tall, her chocolate brown hair loose and brushed straight. It swayed over her generous bottom. Her bush of abundant dark nether hair was visible through her thin gown. The smallest was the fairest blonde, with neatly pinned curls and enormous blue eyes, a nipped-in waist and full, large breasts—almost the size of soup tureens. Honey-gold hair spilled over the shoulders of the third, and she flashed almond-shaped eyes at Marcus.
Each carried different wands but Venetia couldn’t help lifting her gaze from the assortment of toys to their sumptuous bodies. She remembered how her breasts had enjoyed Lydia Harcourt’s attentions even as she’d been shocked at first…
“But please, my lord,” cried the tallest, the brunette. “First you must stuff our cunnies and arses. We’ve been told you are dedicated to your Vixen, so we can only pretend these dildoes are your enormous cock!”
V
enetia was enraptured with this game. If it were a painting, she could call it…
The Lord Stuffs the Giggling Jades
, for the women tittered like schoolgirls as they held up the wands and dildoes they wished him to use.
Venetia’s face burned—as did her quim, her breasts, her very soul. Embarrassment warred with excitement.
Did she dare let him play? Could she stop him?
“It would amuse Vixen and me to watch you fill yourselves, my dears.” His drawl sent shivers through her, delicious shivers.
Venetia caught her breath as Marcus elegantly lowered his firm rear onto her chaise, stretched his arm alongside her legs. Three bosomy, seductive women had offered themselves to him, yet for her, he’d refused. Raw desire glowed in his eyes as he shared a look with her. “Is this what you wish?” he asked softly. “A little adventure?”
Heart in her throat, she nodded. Her hand rested on her hip, he slid his fingers over hers.
In the soft light of the ballroom—the chandeliers were not all lit—the three women had the softness of a painting. As one they whisked off their nightdresses, exposing smooth, creamy naked skin. All three were unique—hips, breasts, legs, faces entirely different—yet each was beautiful. No wonder men sought to explore many lovers, for each woman’s body was a novel adventure.
And then they began to kiss. With painted mouths open and pouting, the women kissed each other’s lips, necks, breasts, leaving streaks of scarlet cream on fragile skin. Pretty sighs rose up. The girl with the china shepherdess coloring clutched her friends’ heads to her enormous breasts. Dainty hands cupped the large mounds, lifting the nipples to hungry mouths.
The blonde’s nipples were brown beneath the paint, and grew to an astonishing length. The girls used their teeth, stroking small white teeth along the thick jutting nipples.
For a fleeting moment, Venetia stiffened as Marcus bent to her breasts, but she was on fire as well, and desire consumed modesty. She held him there, hand on his warm, strong neck. Moaning. Lost to all but sensation. His mouth on her clothed breasts stoked and soothed the burning need. He lifted his head as the blonde squatted with her legs parted. The dark-haired girl winked at Marcus. “I am going to cram this toy into Sukey’s cunt, my lord.” She gave a curtsy. “I am Lizzie.” She pointed at the honey blonde, who put a wand to her lips and licked it. “That is Kate.”
And with the introductions made, Lizzie began to push the dildo she held between Sukey’s thighs. She did so from the side, so Marcus could watch, and Sukey prettily played between the curls with each slow thrust. The thing was monstrous—it appeared to be a foot in length.
Venetia felt her quim pulse as each inch disappeared. Each throb was agonizing, demanding, and she thought of Marcus’ beautiful cock…
“And now for her arse,” Lizzie announced. She took the wand that Kate’s mouth had wetted. Sukey bent over to display her nude rear, Kate licked her nipples and held the other thing in place as Lizzie invaded Sukey’s tight rump.
“Oh, yes, yes,” Sukey moaned as she was stuffed completely full. Both toys were enormous, she must be painfully stretched, but she appeared to be in utter delight. She immediately attended to Lizzie, and then Kate, slid the wands inside both girls’ rears and pussies. Kate took the shortest but fattest wand inside her rump. Shaped like the bulbous decoration on a newel post, the entire thing popped inside her, with only the base exposed. Lizzie waggled her derriere in front of Marcus—which meant it was in front of her face as well. The toy inside Lizzie was the longest and half of it stuck out of her rump, swaying back and forth.
Eyes glued on the sight, Venetia felt Marcus move her hand. Wool brushed her palm, heat and hardness filled it. He’d pressed her hand to his rigid cock.
“Oh, I do love to have a big cock in me arse,” Lizzie exclaimed.
Sukey had hold of each of her dildoes and was thrusting them into herself. Her face was red, her eyes glazed.
“Ye’re not to come yet!” Lizzie cried, but it was too late. On her feet, hands clutching the rods buried in her, Sukey climaxed. She rocked with it, screamed with it, and when it was done, she fought to catch her breath. She sashayed over toward the divan, her breasts jiggling, her hips swaying as she sought to keep her toys inside as she walked. Sweat gleamed on her skin, and the ripe, exotic fragrance of her pleasure teased the air.
She held out her hands. “Join us, Vixen.”
Venetia’s heart pounded. To join a scandalous sex scene? Did she dare?
Her gaze met Marcus’. What she saw made the juice flow lushly from her pussy. Lust and desire, but there was a deeper fire in his eyes as he looked at her.
“What is your desire, my sweet? I would love to watch you have a sexual adventure. And this one would be…safe.”
Safe because it did not involve men? The lure was there, the three women with dildoes within, squirming and sighing, the lure to have an adventure. With his permission. The choice. And she wanted to be, if only for one night, a truly sensual artist.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“But I forbid the use of toys on Vixen,” Marcus instructed.
Kate clapped her hands. In an instant she was on her knees. Venetia watched as Kate parted her legs wide, Marcus moved to give room. To feel a woman’s soft hands on her thighs…it was titillating. Shocking. Thrilling. So different from his strong, rougher hands.
She felt embarrassed as Kate’s long fingers touched her nether lips and felt the dew there. “Oh, she’s ever so slick!” Kate’s shout made her blush more.
The golden curls spilled over her belly as Kate drew her lips apart to expose her clit. Kate gave it a good looking over, and Venetia let her head lay back, too shocked to look now. She closed her eyes. As Kate parted her lips more, the tug pleasured her hard, tingling clit. Cooler air washed over it. She opened her legs wider, wantonly displaying herself.
“Such a lovely cunny.”
Was it? Venetia opened her eyes, to find Lizzie standing close, her cunny mere inches from her face. She saw the thick black rod sticking out from between Lizzie’s glistening nether lips. Lips a darker red than hers—a purplish red. She inhaled the scent of Lizzie’s juices. She became aware of Marcus’ hand on her thigh—she knew it to be his without even looking. Two hands stroked her legs—his large, rough masculine one and Kate’s delicate one.
Wet pressure slid around it. Kate’s tongue! Luxuriant, loving, caressing. Then suckling. In such a wonderful rhythm that her every inhibition spiraled away. She stroked Lizzie’s thigh. Daring herself to touch the curls, the fake cock. But Lizzie spun, presenting her derriere and the large dildo.
“Would ye hold that between your lips, Vixen? And let me thrust upon it?”
So close she could smell Lizzie’s bottom—a ripe scent that excited. She realized that this toy also was carved to look like a cock on this end. She could hold it in her mouth, pretend she was sucking Marcus—
Oh! She had to moan at Kate’s wonderful sucking. Fingers touched her. Large fingers. Marcus playing between her thighs while Kate licked. Naughty! But she could be the young lady in
The Page Turner
. A cock in her mouth while mouths and fingers played in her quim.
Sukey, on hands and knees, wriggled between Lizzie’s spread legs. She got up on her haunches to pull down Venetia’s bodice. With a good tug, Sukey tore the seams. Venetia gasped as her breasts popped out, then Sukey bent, ice-blond hair tumbling, sucked her left nipple, and robustly pinched the right. But Lizzie thrust her bum back, offering the long white cock, and Venetia opened her mouth. She caught the end of the dildo inside and held it with her teeth.
“Christ Jesus,” Marcus muttered.
It became a mad, delirious, lovely tangle of bodies, of pretty moans, husky groans.
Lizzie’s derriere pushed back and she had to hold the cock tight, to let Lizzie pleasure herself. The jade had a lovely bottom, full and smooth and round. It quivered as she rocked. To have her mouth so close to it—
Venetia reached up, to control Lizzie, and the girl grasped her fingers, dragged her hand to Lizzie’s wet cunny. There she pushed the other rod in and out, gasping and sighing around the one in her mouth.
Her gaze shot about the room. To the tangle of bodies on the floor and their moans. To Chartrand, who led a blond woman by chains attached to her nipples and quim. To Lady Yardley, who sucked young Cole while John fucked her wildly from behind.
Pleasure rose, swelled, and she knew she was about to—
A finger teased her bottom. Kate’s? Or Marcus’? All she knew was she wanted it inside. She bounced on it to take it in. Slowly her anus opened, the length filled her. Spiraling within to tease tight walls, her stretched rim.
Mouths on her nipples and quim. Two fingers in her anus—moving with different rhythms at different times! Kate’s tongue lapping, while she bounced on the two dildoes inside her. And Lizzie screaming, coming, drenching the black cock and her hand. Lizzie’s climax ignited Kate, who sucked her clit throughout her release, and Sukey came too, squeezing her nipples.
Venetia felt her senses overload. Felt glorious tension arc through her, burst, and her orgasm exploded. Her teeth clenched around the cock in her mouth, she sucked at it as she came, salivating around it, loving having it in her mouth. Her dutiful lovers licked at cunny and nipples and the pleasure racked her endlessly.
The little death! How she understood! Her cunny and clit pulsed, her nipples stood as tall as they could. And she moaned and whimpered around the cock between her lips.
Finally, she slumped back, and the other girls tumbled against the divan. They sighed and panted like she did, and she floated in communal ecstasy.
Then, all four of them together looked to Marcus. He still wore his evening dress—though sweat trickled into his cravat. Venetia realized that she’d been so captivated with her pleasure, she’d forgotten him and his rigid cock. Four women had climaxed in front of him—he must be in the most intense sexual agony.
Kate and Lizzie reached for the buttons on his trousers. Four slender hands, and two enthusiastic mouths. But he shook his head. “No, angels. I wish to share private pleasures with my Vixen.”
How could he turn down such a delight?
The girls pouted, but got to their feet, gathered their discarded dresses, their used toys. They quickly surrounded another dark-haired man. Lord Swansborough. “Let us wash our toys,” Lizzie said, “And then let us whip you with three sets of tits!”
But what private pleasures did Marcus want? He got to his feet, adjusted the placket of his trousers with a groan. “Come upstairs with me, Venetia.”
She smoothed down her bunched skirts. “To protect me from more?”
“No, because I want to spend the rest of this night with you. Only you.”
As Marcus locked the door of her room and Venetia undid the strings of her mask, guilt rose. And propriety. “You must think me…w—wanton for what I did. It’s improper. I’m improper.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think there is anything improper about a healthy enjoyment of sex.” Rumbling, low, suggestive, Marcus’ voice rippled over her. His scent wrapped around her. Her senses sang as he stood in front of her, cradled her cheek. His signet ring gleamed, cool against her heated skin. His gloves were already discarded on her bed.
“But you wouldn’t marry a woman who wasn’t a virgin.” Why had she said that? It had been his concern all along. Losing her virginity. Now, he would think she pictured him in a marriage. To her. She didn’t. Preposterous.
“Let us not talk about marriage,” he murmured. “Or propriety. Tonight is your night of pleasure. Tell me what you want.”
“You with me…inside me. I saw couples rutting in the ballroom, saw the men plunging deeply into the women. I know that is what I want. Kissing and licking is lovely, but I ache to be filled.” She reached out and let her fingertips trail over his swollen cock. His eyes shut at her touch, his mouth tightened. “You need your release, don’t you?”
“I won’t be a slave to my cock, love.” He turned her, kissed the back of her neck, his mouth hot and silken on her skin, the touch of his hands so familiar now on her back. He dispensed with the row of buttons in agonizing moments, nibbling her nape all the while. Truly, her limbs felt as frothy as the syllabub. “I can’t go inside your cunny, sweeting. I won’t tear your maidenhead. But there is a way for us to make love but preserve your virginity.”
A shiver of anticipation coiled along her spine as he brushed one fallen curl aside. “If you trust me, I would like to pleasure you through your bottom.”
The warmth of the room caressed her back as he slid the gown off her shoulders. Silk slithered over the curve of her hips, to pool at her feet.
“But are you certain you trust me enough?”
“I do trust you, Marcus.” And she did. Yet this man had thwarted all her plans. Her plan to paint. Her plan to deal with Lydia. He’d stolen her independence away. Yet she trusted him.
His hand cupped over her hip, warm and large, bunching her thin shift. “That means very much to me, Venetia.”
He knew what to say, her rake. But she knew not to believe in romantic sentiment.
He tugged the ties of her corset loose. “Take off your shift but leave your garters and stockings on for now.”
No. In this she would be independent and she wanted to be completely naked. Lifting her foot to the edge of his bed, she rolled down garter and silk stocking in slow, seductive motions. She hoped she looked truly tempting.
At his raised brow, she murmured, “I want to be nude for you. To be completely unclothed is…exciting. Naughty.” Even in her art, her participants were never entirely naked. Stockings remained on the women and often the men were fully dressed, only revealing their staffs.
He dropped to one knee, hooked his finger in her other garter. It would be so easy to be enthralled by the intimacy, to forget he was a lofty earl and she a scandalous artist.
No, that couldn’t be forgotten. Not ever.
In a heartbeat, she was a nude artist. She stepped out of her last stocking, her best gossamer-fine stockings. He drew the filmy fabric across his lips. It looked like a mask, made him look even more dangerous.