What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [118]
The dark desire that had just deepened his voice made Jenna’s breasts heave slightly, and she suddenly wondered if hers would be the ones to spill from her dress.
When a sensual female moan met Jenna’s ears, she turned to see a blond man sucking the breast of a woman in a tall powdered wig. The bodice of her cornflower blue frock had been drawn down to reveal just one small but perky tit, and her eyes were shut, jaw lax, as she sighed and groaned her pleasure.
The quartet’s music now quickened, becoming lively, playful, yet expressing an urgency Jenna began to feel in her bones as she observed the debauchery starting to infest the lavish room. She caught sight of another couple on a chaise lounge—a handsome man in a small powdered wig playfully shoved his hand under the lady’s dress, making her squeal in delight, and then purr with pleasure. A moment later, another woman—a redhead in an even redder gown, alit on the lounge on the other side of the lady, soon reaching up to begin massaging her breast, then kissing her lips.
Brent’s warm voice in her ear made her shiver. “Is your pussy getting wet, Lady Jenna?”
She looked up, meeting his gaze behind the gray mask. “It’s been wet all day, my lord.”
“I hope to make it wetter,” he promised.
Jenna bit her lip as hot desire trickled all through her. She kept her eyes on Brent’s, letting him know she was ready—for anything.
When next he spoke, though, he was more Brent than Lord Sexingham. “Tonight, Jenna, no commands, no submission. But I hope you’ll let yourself be free. No doubts or worries. I want you to do what your body urges you to.”
What her body urged her to, huh? That sounded so easy now. So easy that she said, “If you insist,” then pressed herself against him, breasts to chest, cunt to cock. Hard cock. A warm purr left her throat as that hardness filled her with pleasure. “Mmm, so big,” she breathed, curling her hands into his ass through his breeches.
“And your pussy feels so fucking soft, my lady,” he whispered deeply in her ear. “Is it hot? Swollen?”
She let out a small moan. “Yes, and yes.”
At that, Brent led her to a plush divan upholstered in burgundy velvet and gently pushed her down onto it, stooping in front of her. She’d just begun to wonder what he was planning when he reached beneath the hem of her beautiful dress, his hands closing warm around her ankles, then smoothly slid his touch upward, to her knees, taking the skirting with him. Her spine tingled as his palms glided still higher, soon revealing the playful ivory satin bows at the front of each stocking, halfway up her thighs. She sat with her legs demurely together, feeling at once innocent and naughty.
Until Brent pushed her legs apart, wide. Then she felt only naughty. Delightfully so. She bit her lip as he studied her cunt, appearing enraptured, and her entire body pulsed to realize that, around them, more and more people were breaking into couples or groups, touching, kissing, pulling down bodices, raising skirts. She sensed their eyes on her, too—on her slit, which surely glistened in the candlelight, and it made her all the more eager.
“Lady Jenna,” Brent said from between her knees, “your pussy looks delectable.”
She sucked in her breath, felt her breasts lift slightly within the tight confines that held them, and offered her most inviting expression. “You should taste it.”
When Brent’s warm mouth sank over her cunt, she cried out from the abrupt pleasure. She couldn’t have held in her hot sighs if she’d tried—so she didn’t try. As the classical music swirled around her, as the elegance blended with decadence, Jenna sank fully into the strange ambience of the gathering: the sex, the atmosphere, the fantasy. Brent feasted on her vigorously—licking, kissing—and she relished the way he looked between her stocking-covered thighs,