Brazen Ivy, page 17
“Do you want to come, Soph?” Liam asked.
With her eyes squeezed tight, she could only nod.
“I can’t hear you,” he said.
Her tongue appeared, and she licked her lips. The man between her legs continued to thrust, and I saw her struggle and fight to respond. “Yes. I want to come.”
Liam spoke with the three men lined up to take her. After a curt nod toward Sean, he stepped aside. The next three approached the lounger. The first claimed her wet heat, his eyes closed and his head thrown back in ecstasy. The second began to stroke her clit, while the third slid a finger in her ass. Her hips lifted from the cushions, her nipples tight and her skin flushed.
I glanced toward Liam in that moment. Satisfaction lined his face. He enjoyed this. Accepting Sophie’s trust with her body. Managing who touched her. Fuck her.
“I see what Sophie meant now when she mentioned the word director. She said you were one,” I whispered, unable to tear my gaze from Sophie and the four men in charge of her needs.
Elliott captured my hand, brought it to his mouth and swiped his tongue at the sensitive area across my wrist. “You want me to take the role of director for you; I’m thrilled to comply. Your consent is still the most important. Our society focuses on mutual pleasure.”
Sophie’s hands gripped the cushion. Her hips rose to meet the fingers and cock stroking her. She began to tremble, her moans of bliss like nothing I’d ever heard before, and I knew she’d reached her peak. I envied her.
A woman and man broke off from the group, aiming for their own lounger. Two women joined hands and escaped to a place cloaked in trees, seeking a more secluded trysting spot.
I lifted my champagne glass to my lips, but I’d already drained the contents. I turned toward my date. “I need, uh...”
“I know what you need, my little storm.” He grasped my hand in his and made for the champagne fountain. The lone female staffer had filled several empty glasses, and she handed Elliott one with a smile. I grabbed another to wet my dry mouth. After Elliott reached for a third, he guided me to a sturdy picnic table under a bright orange umbrella lined with LED lights. “Follow me.”
This was it. My turn. No, his turn to direct. He waited for me to down my champagne, then snatched the flute from my hand. He stared at me, no hint of laughter, only tight concentration. He’d captured my complete attention. I was his to direct.
“Take off your shorts, Ivy.” His firm, authoritative words snared the notice of numerous society members. Several approached us, including Liam and Sophie. She wore nothing but a man’s dress shirt and a smile. She winked at me in encouragement, and my hands trembled to the tie at my waist and released the belt. The sound of my zipper lowering seemed to echo, but knew it must be my imagination.
My black shorts pooled around my feet and I stood in only my lacy cheeksters and strappy sandals. Elliott moved and cupped me my between legs. I hissed in a breath at even the barest touch to my pussy. The debauchery I’d witnessed left me a yearning inferno. His fingers grazed the material, and I purred. “How wet you are, Ivy. Show everyone.”
Eager to obey, I hooked my fingers around the band of my panties and slid them over my hips. I stood naked before the crowd, my nipples hard pebbles, my core aching for relief. Confusion stole into my excitement. I didn’t want to disappoint him, but how did he want me to show them?
“On the table,” he instructed.
He must have seen my confusion, and now the lights around the umbrella made sense. This was a place to be viewed. A shiver danced down my spine. I wanted to be flirtatious and exciting for him, to prance and strut like a woman used to showing off her body, but this was too new. Instead, I hurried to the table, hopped onto the top and reclined until the smooth wood of the umbrella stand poked against my back.
“Spread your leg,” he said.
My heart raced, and I thought of that night, that fateful night where he’d caught me dancing and then fingered me to orgasm in front of Archer, Julio and Graham. That evening gave me four new lovers and set me on the path to tonight. After taking a deep breath, I shifted my legs apart. The sultry air teased my wet and aching clit.
I expected him to touch me then, sink inside me and draw out a response. He surprised me by dipping his fingers into one of the champagne flutes and painted my skin with the bubbly liquid. Now I understood why he’d grabbed two glasses for himself. His wet fingertips dragged along my thighs. Over my belly. Down my arms.
The tightness of my muscles eased wherever he traced. Seducing me. Easing me into what happened next. When only a few drops remained in the glass, he tipped the flute allowing the champagne to drip over my nipples.
“Tyler, touch her.” Elliott husked. The instruction he’d issued excited him.
Goose bumps formed on my arms as I waited. The moments between Elliott’s directive and when I’d experience a stranger’s touch stretched. My nerve endings tuned to a fine point, and I was ready to be played.
Warm hands cupped my breasts and my breath hitched in my chest. Tyler’s palms were rough and calloused like a man familiar with physical labor. This stranger’s foreign touch was exquisite. I don’t know why; Tyler barely touched me.
Every one of my senses felt heightened and acute.
The husky indrawn breath of a man who’d tweaked my nipple.
The woodsy scent of another’s cologne.
The honeyed taste of the champagne.
I felt alive. In tune with my body in a way I’d never experienced.
“Drew. Taste her.” Elliott’s order made me tremble. Where? Taste me where?
A man leaned forward, and his tongue found me and traced a path from my inner elbow to below my ear. “So good,” he whispered. His breath tickled me and I trembled. Tyler chose that moment to pinch my nipple, and I moaned, pulled from a deeply buried, primitive side of me.
“Michael, touch her where she needs it,” Elliott said.
My hometown-girl manners suggested I should make eye contact with the man who’d take over my pussy. But I’m lost in a hidden part of myself, and afraid to break the spell. I sensed him move and then felt the man’s touch. He used both his hands. His thumb circled my clit, while his finger slid lower along the seam of my cunt. I lurched forward when he pushed past the folds and entered me. My back arched off the table.
“Easy, Ivy.” Sophie’s voice penetrated my disorientation, a soothing balm to my battered patience. “I know you want to rush it, but I promise you want to enjoy every moment more. Experience it with your whole self, not just your mind and thoughts.”
I breathed through my nose and out my mouth, attempting to center myself. My new friend was right. I ached to savor each stroke, lick and touch. My muscles loosened and my body hummed as I allowed myself to relax.
Tyler cupped my other breast. Or maybe Elliott gave another man permission to handle me. Yes, that was it, this man’s caress was not as rough, and he concentrated on drawing a circle pattern on me. The circles grew smaller and smaller with each pass until he ended his exploration on my nipple. His breath warmed my skin before he nibbled on my tightened peak.
Michael thrust his finger inside me, then added a second and pumped me until I writhed on the table.
“Don’t make her come.”
The man followed Elliott’s instructions, and he slowed his pace. Every part of me revolted at the loss. I was done savoring. I needed release. I hungered for it. My breath came out in a frustrated sigh and I opened my eyes.
Elliott stared down at me. Somehow I knew his focus had never left my face. He held himself in tight control, gauging my reactions. “You ready to come?” he asked.
“So much.” My frantic nod must have convinced him because he tapped the shoulder of a man penetrating me with his fingers. He vanished in a flash of a blue shirt and blond hair. I’d never even caught the sight of his face. I should feel weird about that, but I didn’t. This was Elliott’s show, and I trusted him. Showing my awkwardness would only embarrass the man who’d brought me and took such good care of me. Would dampen my pleasure.
Instead, I would revel in the power of my body. How it gave me such erotic bliss. With more to come. Already Elliott reached for the buckle of his pants. Yes. It should be Elliott who propelled me over the edge. His cock sprang forward, beautiful and hard and so very wanted.
He rubbed the tip of his cock against my folds. With his hand, he coated his length with my wetness, preparing himself to sink inside me. Elliott grabbed my thighs and pulled me to the end of the table until we aligned to perfection. His unhurried thrust drove me to the brink. So right, so perfect, he pushed forward until he sunk all the way to the hilt.
My core closed around him instantly, and my eyelids fluttered shut.
“No, Ivy. Can’t have you coming just yet. Tyler.”
The man stroking my breast gave me a quick and unexpected pinch to my nipple. The shocking lick of pain drew me out of my body and stopped me from tipping over the edge.
“There you go, Ivy. You’re back.”
I wasn’t ready to climax. At last I fucked Elliott where I could see him, and I wanted to stretch the time out as long as I could. He drove into me in deliberate controlled strokes, how like my focused engineer. With a nod, the men at my breasts continued stroking and toying with me. Drew nibbled on my ear and I closed my eyes so I could block out every sense but touch.
“Your pussy’s amazing,” Elliott said, his voice held a bite to it now.
“So soft,” complimented the unnamed man squeezing my breasts.
Elliott’s cock thickened inside me, his thrusts harder and with less finesse. “She needs more stimulation.”
His words acted as an open invitation. Several men stepped forward to caress me into oblivion. Someone even gripped my ass. Tongues licked at the dried champagne on my chest, while another sunk his teeth into my earlobe. Deep inside, my core contracted. No matter what Elliott ordered, I could not prevent myself from tumbling into the bliss of my orgasm.
Elliott tunneled into me, hard and forceful and I loved every plunge of his body into mine. “Liam,” he called.
The man’s breath swept over my thigh before he tongued my clit. I’m invaded both inside and out, a thousand connections. Elliott’s powerful thrusts stir my G-spot and he set me aflame like kindling. Liam sucked without mercy and I squealed, a raw, primitive sound ripped from my chest. I shook and trembled and sunk my fingers into Liam’s hair as he worked me with his mouth.
Wave after wave of powerful tremors racked my core. Elliott pounded into me. It’s brutal and I elevated my hips for more. I want every inch. All of him. He ground against me and his control busted. He came in long bursts, bellowing out his pleasure and triggering ripples of satisfaction that scissored through me. I’d made him lose control. Finally.
Liam lifted from me after the last tremor faded. The hands of strangers drifted away after giving me a final pat or gentle squeeze. I sensed our viewers walking off, finding a new performance to watch or even to find their own release. Elliott collapsed against me, his energy temporarily zapped, his body spent. I hugged him close to me. As the rapid thump of his heart slowed, I grew more aware. The light chatter of the men and women who’d watched and participated in our show. The summer breeze on my heated skin. The scent of champagne and the blooming flowers.
After a few moments, Elliott rose from my damp body, his cock sliding from me. I rolled to my side, drawing my legs to my chest. Tight.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Concern punctuated his words. “Ivy?”
Sophie answered for me. “She needs a moment, Elliott. This is new to her, and she must process it. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her. Meet us by the fountain in twenty minutes. Liam, get him something to eat.”
I sensed his reluctance. He even laced his fingers through mine. But after Sophie’s second steady assurance he strode off with Liam.
“Finally,” Sophie said with a heavy sigh when the men were out of earshot. “Ivy, it’s time to come out of it. Open your eyes.”
I followed her instructions, which was on par for the night. But complying with direction was what I’d signed up for when I stepped out of the car and took Elliott’s hand. I blinked a few times, forcing my sight to focus.
“You’re good,” she reassured me. Sophie smiled at me, despite her date’s expert lip service on me. “Time to get up.”
With a nod, I pushed myself up and sat on the edge of the picnic table. “It felt like I went somewhere. As though I was more aligned with my body than ever before, while also unfocused and off in the distance.”
She made a humming sound. “You were in the frenzy, and it’s fucking addictive. Your first time, I take it.”
I blinked up at her. “The frenzy?”
Sophie’s lips twitched. “I mean, I’m sure there’s a technical medical term for it, but that’s just what I call it. You’re so deep inside; you’re a captive of sensation. No thoughts, and never any worries.”
“It scared me a little,” I admitted.
Her brows drew together in concern. “Are you okay now?”
I shrugged, my naked breasts jiggling, and still so so sensitive. “I’m not sure.”
“That’s okay. Obviously I don’t know you well, but I see you’re trying to work this out in your mind. Maybe don’t try. At least tonight.” Her gaze searched the night until she found Liam. “The first time Liam brought me here I didn’t speak to him for a month afterward. I blocked his number on my phone. It took me awhile to get it. To come to terms with it. How could a man, a man who cares for me, share me with others? And then an even worse thought emerged. How could I want it, too?”
My lips parted. “Exactly.”
“If you’re anything like me, you’d love a shower. Tate has a cabana just for us to use.”
I hopped off the picnic table, the folds of my pussy rubbed together, reminding me I’d fucked only minutes earlier. Hard. I scanned the ground, looking for my clothes. “I can’t find my panties,” I said, clutching my shorts tight in my fist.
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Someone probably took it as a souvenir. C’mon. I got you covered.”
I thought about slipping into my shorts, as I’m only wearing my sandals, but I’m surrounded by sculpted men and beautiful women, all of them naked. I passed a ménage in full swing on a blanket on a rolling hill. Near the pool a man performed a strip routine for his several onlookers. His ripped body revealed one piece of clothing at a time. Still more guests splashed and laughed in the pool.
“How often do you get together?” I asked.
“At least once a month, but more in the summer when we can really enjoy Tate’s grounds. Sometimes we’ll rent out a club or party in a suite, but there’s never as much freedom as we have here.”
Sophie led me to a building off the main house. I don’t know what I expected when she said cabana, maybe columns and gauzy drapes. This structure resembled an athletic club and bigger than any home where I grew up. We stepped inside, and the gentle strains of piano and flute soothed my frayed nerves. A large whirlpool dominated the room, surrounded by loungers. Tate maintained the Mediterranean style here, too. Candles bathed the tiled walls and floors in a warm glow.
“The shower is through there,” Sophie prodded, and I kicked off my sandals.
The designer of the shower room embraced an open concept approach. No stall walls blocked the room’s flow. Showerheads suspended from the ceiling poured water from above like a summer afternoon rainfall. Smaller jets along the walls doused us in water shoulder to ankle. What the bathing deck didn’t offer in privacy, it compensated for in luxury. A small shelf offered dozens of little bottles of gel and shampoos and conditioners, brands I could never afford, some of them printed in foreign languages.
Sophie adjusted the taps, and I yelped when the water first flowed over me. I grabbed one bottle and smoothed pear scented gel over my skin. The light scent of coconut filled my nose. Afterwards we draped ourselves in thick, fluffy white robes and relaxed on the loungers by the Jacuzzi.
“Tate knows how to end the night right. I adore a little luxury after a raucous orgasm,” Sophie said, finger combing her damp hair.
I sucked in the corner of my lip.
Sophie giggled. “C’mon. I can tell you want to ask me something. As you’ve seen for yourself, I’m not a lady with a lot of secrets.”
“Does it bother you? That many men fucking you?”
She waved her hand. “Not at all. I trust Liam. The man knows what I hanker for.”
“And it doesn’t make you feel, uh, like someone’s toy?”
“Well, don’t knock being someone’s fucktoy,” she said with a wink, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Here, what we do with one another, it’s grounded in pleasure. I make them feel good, they make me feel amazing. Before I met Liam, I was a woman easily dismissed.”
I eyed her voluptuous curves. Sophie was a Titian-haired goddess. “I doubt that.”
She lifted a perfectly arched brow. “It’s true. I’d grown up in a home where girls should be seen and not heard. Raised to believe everything is your fault has you escaping to the shadows. It took me a while to believe I deserved anything special. Liam gave me a path to be the center of attention, and I adore it.”
My face flushed. “I adored it, too. But how do you handle the jealousy? Seeing Liam with other women, and him directing for you?” I asked. Despite my deep relaxation, tension coiled in my stomach remembering how Sophie watched Liam’s lips fastened to my clit.
The humor of her face faded. “I had to rewrite in my mind what I’d thought a proper relationship was. What happens here, in the society, it’s one part of our life. I love Liam, and he’d crawl on broken glass to protect me and what we’ve built together. Jealousy never plays into our time with the society. Out in the real world, away from this bubble, our bond is monogamous all the way. Does that make sense?”
I nodded because I’d experienced a bit of that two different world scenario inside our cabin with Julio, Graham and Archer. Elliott kept a distance between us since our initial group night. It hurt in the beginning, but his reasoning made sense now. Our first time he’d been the director. The four of us had followed his instructions. And while he often provided direction to a particular guy, I still chose the who and the how.
