The New Girl (Fantasy Heights) (3 page)

Thomas being Thomas, his costume was more ‘rogue lord’ than noble. His longish dark, wavy hair had been pulled back in a suitably Victorian ponytail. He wore cuffed black leather boots, breeches that laced up the front and an elaborately corded vest showcasing a torso that had populated some of her more graphic dreams of late.

He returned her inspection, circling around to judge from all angles. “You are absolutely perfect.”

At the unexpected compliment, she went very still. “Thank you, I think. What’s the fantasy from the client’s point of view?”

“She’s a servant girl, first day on the job. She’ll be waiting in attendance to you during an evening’s entertainment at court. Basically, sit in the throne looking regal and bored until you decide you want entertainment. Order the others to undress and stimulate each other in front of the client, and then put her into play. Delay it a good bit to build up some tension. Have the others service you. Order me into the act, if you want. Then order me to fuck the client, of course. Easy enough?”

She stopped thinking clearly somewhere around the casual mention that she could order him to do things to her. Her mind raced with the possibilities. Unsure she would like this new fantasy package, she nonetheless nodded. “Sure.”

“The client will be the one in blue. Oh, and before we go in, there’s something I need to explain before tomorrow, just in case you were planning on getting the wrong idea about why I let Steph give your fantasy to someone else.”

She frowned at him. “Why would I get the wrong idea?”

“Because some people go looking to be offended. I don’t know whether you’re that type yet or not. Just understand that it wasn’t anything personal. But I’d still like to know who was important enough to make Steph pull rank that way.”

“What do you mean? Steph gave my fantasy away to someone, and you don’t know to whom?”

He smirked, his beautiful mouth stretching out to the side and revealing white, perfect teeth. “You don’t know, either.”

She’d just learned two things: Despite his unperturbed tone, Thomas did not appreciate Steph encroaching on his territory. He also found it highly intriguing that she had no idea who would take her anal virginity.

Now annoyed as well, she watched him narrowly.

He ignored her. “Guess you’ll find out tomorrow. For now, get into character. It’s time to go on.”

She straightened her spine and took a deep breath, turning toward the event room door. “It’s a good thing for you that terrible handmaidens don’t hold grudges.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes and blew out a breath. “Oh Christ, if only. Just don’t get too carried away. This client is a regular, and trust me when I say I’ll need some stamina left by the time you let me have her.”

The proverbial ice had just been shattered between them. She could feel it, though she had no idea how or why it had happened. Amanda produced her most wicked, queenly smile. “Poor thing.”

Thomas lifted the peplum and gave her a sharp crack on the ass. The sting and aroused twinge between her legs did not help her nerves as Thomas opened and held the door for her.

Visualizing how a queen might enter court, she clasped her hands near her navel, set her shoulders into a rigid line, and strode forward in short but measured steps. Inside the event room, once she’d seen how they’d transformed the place from a bare soundstage into a stone-walled, marble floored and balconied dining hall, she had a hard time not gawking. No detail had been spared. Gilt fixtures, real silver on the table, and thick tapestries made the room a believable backdrop. Soft harpsichord music added sparkle to the atmosphere.

Her throne, once she saw it, gave her a chill. High-backed and ornate with a padded sleigh-bed form to the seat, just about anything could be accomplished by way of sexual positions. Three steps led up to its platform. The dining tables had been laid out in a
U
. At its center sat a padded, square table that sparked her imagination. On it, she could order staff and clients to carry out many interesting acts.

She changed her mind and decided she loved this fantasy, even more so as she noticed the four elaborately dressed cast members who sat at the table. One man was a lord in emerald green silk, another man dressed as a sea captain in black formal uniform. Two courtesans sat beside them, each in frilly, dark purple organza. Behind them, against the far wall, a servant girl stood at attendance, wearing a bland camel-colored velvet costume covering her from collarbone to ankle. Beside her stood a waist-coated pile of muscle, recognizable as Thomas’s usual observer.

Amanda recognized the servant and courtesans as well, but the lord and captain were unfamiliar. It wasn’t until Amanda reached the throne that she spotted the client standing on the far side. Even without the soft blue velvet bodice and skirt, Amanda would have recognized the woman as one of the captives she’d oiled and aroused for Thomas. Every inch of the woman’s slightly plump, curvy body was familiar to her. She knew the taste of their client’s juices, and if she thought hard enough about it, how strong the pulsing of her inner muscles when she came.

Amanda gave no sign of greeting or friendliness. Holding her expression clear, she took her place, standing before her throne, looking over her guests. Thomas had slipped in, taking his place at table. His eyes stole to their client, then flicked warily to his queen before falling back to his plate. He made it impossible to miss the dynamic he wanted: the client was forbidden to him. As queen, she would never permit him to trifle with a lowly servant.

Amanda had to hand it to the guy. He might be an arrogant bastard, but there were award-winning actors less able to portray raw emotion. Someday, perhaps, she would master half so much talent. In the meantime, she would enjoy this. Thoroughly. She would make sure he and his client did, too.

Murmured small talk between the courtesans was the only sound as she allowed her guests to stew in wary nerves and anticipation. She sat rigid and silent, crossing one long leg over the other. Her eyes fell to the young lord at table. He was likely twenty-four or five, very muscular, very tan and handsome enough. With a point and a gesture, she called him to stand at the base of the throne.

“Disrobe.”

The young man responded eagerly to his queen’s command, and she watched, genuinely enjoying the show as he shed his waistcoat and breeches to expose a muscular torso and an impressive erection. She felt an instant reaction in her pussy, a tightening, warming sensation of pure desire. It had been a very long time since she had felt a man inside her, though she didn’t imagine Thomas would appreciate it if she let his client’s fantasy become her own, even temporarily.

Still, she was queen, and he was so very, very hard. Surely Thomas wouldn’t mind if she ordered the young man to stick that cock inside her.

She was on the verge of caving in to the whim when she caught her trainer’s eye. A harsh, loud reprimand couldn’t have answered her question as eloquently as the warning sparkle heating his eyes.

Okay, so the answer was no. Time to move on. Now that the young man stood nude and waiting, she directed him to lie on his back on the padded, central table. Amanda then raised her right hand to snap her fingers at the client. “You, girl. Come.”

She pointed to the spot where the young man had stood, then ordered the client to strip as well. Instead of directing the client to join him on the table, she pointed at the steps to the right of her booted feet. “Sit here. Part your knees for our guests. Let their eyes feast upon what their mouths cannot.”

The client obeyed, taking a seat on the steps, and spreading her knees wide. Thomas’s eyes went directly for the client’s pussy, adhered there, flaring hungrily and darkening with desire.

Amanda moved on, allowing the prolonged exposure to work on the client, while she drew the blandly clad servant girl into the act. This time, her orders sent the servant onto the central table, to stand over the naked lord, and disrobe.

“Take his cock into your mouth.”

The servant, too, obeyed, getting onto all fours between the young man’s knees. Slowly, reverently, she began to tongue his shaft.

Figuring more visual stimulation would be nice, Amanda called up the other young male guest, the sea captain. This one was dark and brooding. She ordered his clothes off, and made him crouch on the bottom step.

Amanda stood and descended to the second step. Planting her feet wide apart, she snapped her fingers at the captain. He knew instantly what to do, burying his face between her legs.

The contact and his forceful, rough style made her gasp in approval. She had an exceedingly hard time maintaining her rigid composure as he slid his hands up under the peplum, grasping her buttocks to hold her in place while he tongued her aggressively as a wolf.

She wanted to bend her knees, to grind her cunt against that ravenous mouth. If she did, she’d come before her client. Bad idea, though the show she and her captain put on had brought a deep red stain of excitement on the client’s skin. Her breasts rose and fell with every heavy and erratic breath.

It was almost time. Glittering heat now pooling between her legs, Amanda drew the remaining two courtesans into the act. She ordered the ladies to stand on either side of her and attend to her nipples. The greed of her courtesans was almost more sensation than she could withstand. Their mouths showed no mercy, biting and sucking, their hands pulling away each other’s costumes until they too were naked. Then three pairs of hands snaked between Amanda’s legs and buttocks while the courtesans and the captain fought over who could bang her hardest and deepest.

Nearing orgasm, Amanda glanced down to see what state their client was in. The woman’s eyes devoured everything before her, greedily taking in every move the courtesans and captain made.

An idea occurred to her. She decided she would not play the queen as a mere sexual puppet master, but a more cunning, calculating one. With a few barked orders, her captain and courtesans turned their attentions onto the client, who was already crying out in ecstasy by the time Amanda descended to the floor and approached Thomas. His eyes boiled with rage now. His expression warned he was seriously displeased that his noob-let had both left him out thus far, and taken over so completely.

Amanda didn’t care. She fell even further into the role, knowing he could not refuse what came next unless he broke character himself. She led him away from the table to stand on the floor, mere steps away from his client. He watched while three skilled and determined players pleasured his desired one. As if to taunt him, the client made noises of pure, unrestrained joy when she climaxed the first time.

With a nod toward the central table, where the young lord and servant girl were still playing with the man’s cock, Amanda ordered the others to carry their client there. Again, she needed to provide no further instruction. They would allow the client to recover briefly, playing with and around her, holding her suspended, surrounded, in sex.

Now for Thomas, she thought. She forcibly turned him to watch the writhing tangle of limbs upon the table. The courtesans held their client spread eagle, and explored at their leisure. Hands cupped her breasts, mouths sought her juices, and one of the courtesans began to kiss her, deep and hard. The client responded avidly, everything about her body language open and needful.

Amanda stepped closer to Thomas and curled her fingers around the collar of his vest, pulling it slowly down until it slipped free of his hands. She allowed it to fall and placed her hands at his navel, travelling lightly over his skin in a teasing, playful taunt. She sought his nipples and spent some time there, rubbing, while she watched his face over his shoulder. He glanced down at her, the quality of his expression morphing between lingering anger and growing desire.

Defiant, she sent her hands to his waist, finding the breeches’ front lace and giving it a tug. He wore nothing beneath, and she closed her fingers around his shaft, pulling up and down, stroking with a firm grip of ownership.

He whispered a warning. “Mind yourself.”

“Why? Your client looks happy.”

“Do I look happy?”

“Not even a little. Are you afraid I’ll steal your client away?”

“Not even a little. You keep this up, though, and you might find yourself bent over that throne.”

Again, she gave him her most wicked, queenly smile. “That’s not a very good threat.”

“You want me to bend you over that throne?”

Given the sudden heat in his eyes, the hunger, and her own responding flare of frenzied anticipation, she faltered. She thought about it a moment, the ramifications of giving in to this ill-advised attraction. Once again she was reminded of the very thick, sharp-edged line between business and personal. “I do and I don’t.”

Thomas watched her a while, then did what he did best. He assumed control all at once, nudging her gently away from him, and shedding the rest of his clothes. Then he snapped his fingers to the young sea captain whose mouth had fed on her so demandingly.

The young man left the table to lean close to Thomas. Amanda stood uncertainly by while Thomas shared a whispered word. Finished, he stepped away to kneel on the table, giving an order that his client should be on all fours before him. The courtesans helped position the woman, then slipped away from the table, removing themselves from the fantasy. That left the young lord and the servant girl, who had moved on from oral pleasures. Now the servant girl sat astride the lord, riding him, undulating at a rapid, mesmerizing pace. The girl’s full, soft breasts jiggled with every wave, and the young lord could not keep his hands away, grasping, holding the weight of them in his palms.

The captain, meanwhile, came over to lift Amanda’s right arm and deftly unzip her corset. Her costume fell away, and the young man tossed it onto the throne. He caught her up with one strong arm behind her knees, the other at her shoulders. Up the stairs and behind the throne he went, then into a narrow hallway. A few feet later he took a sharp right into a softly lit Moroccan-themed room. Cushions littered the floor, and her young captain set her down on one.