Page 23 of A Lady, Her Lord, & Their Duke

“Now, Edmund,” said Madam Arabella as she washed her hands in a bowl of heated herbed water. “What am I to do with you?”

Nev slowly stood up from the bench and flexed his legs and back, then examined his crop-patterned arse in one of the room’s many mirrors. “He needs to learn how to properly attend to your pussy, madam. And be disciplined. I would be happy to assist.”

“I like the sound of that,” she replied, discarding her dressing gown into a puddle of satin on the floor, then sauntering over to the enormous and thankfully sturdy bed in the center of the chamber. After arranging herself in the middle, Madam Arabella beckoned them both. “Nev, untie Edmund’s hands and bring him to me.”

As soon as his wrists were free of the cord, Edmund flexed them. Strangely, he already missed the restraint, the helplessness of being unable to touch himself.

Madam Arabella patted the bed in front of her. “If you wish for discipline, here on your hands and knees, Edmund.”

Trying to control his eagerness, he obeyed. Seconds later, Edmund groaned softly as a firm, masculine hand began caressing his back, arse, and upper thighs. How could such an innocuous touch feel so good?

Madam Arabella smiled indulgently as she cupped her right breast and tweaked the nipple. “Nev does indeed have magic hands and will warm up your skin before introducing you to spanking. He’ll start lightly; you may request a firmer touch if you wish. After that, you are going to make me come with your mouth. Only then will I decide whether you are permitted an orgasm. I know you badly want one…but you must please me as Nev did.”

Edmund nodded. His throbbing cock might be desperate for release, and there was still that element of confusion at enjoying another man’s touch, but there was no way he would crumble this time. Not with a reward like Madam Arabella’s pussy on offer. She was already glistening wet, and the musky scent made his mouth water. “Yes, ma’am. I’m ready.”

The first few slaps to his arse were indeed light, almost affectionate. He nearly asked for harder, but bit his tongue, wanting to concede control to someone far more knowledgeable. Instead, Edmund went down onto his elbows, so his arse was higher. He was immediately rewarded as the blows became firmer, enough to make his skin tingle. But he wanted more. To be so aroused, so mindless with lust and need that he would writhe as Nev had done.

The other man paused to roughly massage Edmund’s flesh. When Nev’s fingers delved down to Edmund’s inner thighs then up to lightly stroke the underside of his balls, Edmund moaned. Nev was so skilled. So sure! “Yes.”

Madam Arabella shifted restlessly on the bed in front of him, her hand trailing between her legs to part her bush, offering him a brief glimpse of the succulent pink petals beneath. “Tell me what you need next, Edmund,” she said huskily.

“To taste you. To burn. To be taken,” he blurted, not even sure if he was making sense. “I want to know.”

But she nodded. “Nev, darling, would you fetch a small dildo for me? Two thumb width. You’re going to introduce Edmund to being fucked.”

Edmund shivered, pure excitement coursing through his veins at her words.

Being fucked.

Something done to him, where he didn’t have to think or instruct. Just feel. In truth, alongside the excitement was pure relief. At each step, he’d been given choices. He’d had a voice in accepting or declining. And none of this was about conceiving a child. He was free to simply enjoy the journey.

Soon, Nev stood behind him once again, then came a splash of warm, slick liquid on Edmund’s lower back. Oil!

“I’ll start with a finger, then put the dildo in your arse,” said Nev, as casually as he might talk about the weather. “Don’t worry, Edmund, I’ll use plenty of oil. This will feel exceedingly strange at first, pressure and burn, but you’ll soon be thanking me, trust in that.”

Edmund chuckled at the quip, but oddly enough, he did trust Nev. And Madam Arabella. Never in a thousand years had he imagined there might be a way to learn and discover that felt so damned safe. So damned friendly. Like he mattered, not because of his title or wealth, but because he wished to submit. “I’m ready.”

Well, he’d thought he was ready. But as Nev’s oil-slick finger rimmed his anus then shallowly penetrated the tight hole, Edmund gasped. Christ. How could something feel so wrong and yet so very right at the same time? Yet his body was awakening to sensation like a sleepy dragon, stretching and sparking and sending an urgent message to his engorged cock: are you ready to come?

Edmund inhaled deeply as slowly, so slowly, Nev pushed his finger deeper. In. Out. In. Out. As the other man had warned, the penetration did burn, yet perversely he craved more of the fullness and pressure. This was so damned confusing his mind whirled and his hands clutched at the bedsheets for anchor.

Abruptly, Madam Arabella moved in front of him. Her fingers tangled in his hair and tugged his head up with just enough force that he groaned, shocked at the sexual jolt that arrowed through his body.

She smiled kindly. “You need a distraction, sweetheart, so you don’t drown in your own thoughts. It’s time to put your tongue to work. I’ll guide you. Begin.”

Soon Madam Arabella had shuffled down the bed and spread her thighs wide to reveal her gloriously slick labia. Reverently, Edmund bowed his head and inhaled, addicted to the fragrance of wild, hot pleasure. Then he extended his tongue, tentatively licking the petals, and delectable musky honey filled his mouth.

Edmund moaned, the sound catching as something larger than a finger pressed at his back entrance. Large and unyielding and utterly overwhelming. But before he could think about that, Madam Arabella tugged on his hair again, bringing his mouth closer to her pussy.

Experimentally, he circled her swollen clitoris with just the tip of his tongue, and when she cried out, a rush of victorious elation filled him. In the past, both he and Lydia had always ensured the act was completed as soon as possible, so hadn’t kissed or touched or pleasured each other. But Madam Arabella wanted it. No, she was insisting upon it.

Despite his lack of experience, he would do his very best.

“You taste,” Edmund mumbled as he flattened his tongue and dragged it along Madam Arabella’s heady center, “so good.”

She cried out again, grinding against his chin until his face was drenched in juices. “Yes. Yes.”

Edmund paused, shuddering as the burning, stretching, solid fullness of the dildo in his arse grew too pronounced to ignore. How could he bear it? Yet when he tried to buck, Nev held him immobile with surprising strength, twisting and turning the smooth, polished stone phallus inside him until Edmund’s mind threatened to splinter.