Chapter 118 Unknown hybrid
Like Mordaine said we would, we shared the tiny bottle of rare quality champagne and ate the macarons in the kitchen right after I woke up from a short nap.
Then he asked me to join him on a walk.
We followed the edge of the lake and set off into the woods behind his mansion. We did not exchange a word the whole walk, but as we returned to the house, I could feel the energy shifting between us.
We were back to our regularly scheduled program. Freaky sex.
“I like to see you like this,” that deep bass said, as our footsteps hit the staircase with a padded sound.
I was naked now, having stripped the moment we returned to our bedroom and I could feel the air on every inch of my naked skin. Blindfolds kept me in the dark as he led me down the stairs with a collar around my neck.
“You do, sir?”
“Yes pet,” he that voice returned, still walking in front of me. “You look clueless right now. A little scared, trying to feel your way even though you probably know I will never let you fall.”
I swallowed.
“And all this with your curves on display for me.”
I gripped the banister tightly, feeling a rush of heat travel between my legs at his degrading compliment.
The leach relaxed just as the sound of his footsteps ceased. But he asked me to take a few more steps.
I did. And immediately heard the sound of metal kissing behind me. My stomach lurched when the floor moved suddenly under me. We were in the elevator.
Were we heading to his vault then? What could he have for me in there?
Ding! The elevator announced our arrival, closely followed by the soft mechanical whisper of its doors opening. I listened to him exit the elevator first, and then, there was a tug on my collar.
My knees trembled as I walked forward like an old lady, terrified that I might misjudge my steps and the doors would snap shut, trapping my legs.
Irrational fear, seeing he was standing right here, I could smell his lilies and metal and heat, and he likely would not let that happen. I was many steps away when I heard the door sliding close again.
Another tug, and I walked faster, inhaling deeply to steady my heart, racing with nervous excitement.
My surroundings felt closed in, and our footsteps sounded muffled, but then a rush of air hugged me just as I heard the soft lap of water and the low whir of what could only be a ventilation fan.
We were in the natatorium.
“You’ll soon realize there is no reason to feel nervous. I am here to treat you.”
“Mm,” I did not believe a word, he said.
Of all three men, he was the most wicked. We were now nearing the end of day one home alone, and he had tortured me till I was bright pink and orgasming to the stroke of a lily stem. Some treat that was.
And he had not once touched me after. I was still in an aroused state, stimulated by the lingering feeling of pressure around my breasts from the silk earlier.
The collar relaxed around my neck and I stopped. My ears were stained, listening for just about anything in the darkness that surrounded me.
What part of the natatorium were we? Just how far from the pool's edge was I standing? Will I slip and knock my head if I took another step?
This uncertainty was extreme sport, and kept my heart pounding and palms sweaty. True to what I discovered in the bedroom with all three men days ago, a haywire nervous system in a consenting environment birthed an unreasonable level of arousal.
My clit had its own heartbeat at this point and the ache deep at my core was becoming impossible to ignore.
I wanted him in me.
As if on cue, he touched me then. A gentle curling of hands around my shoulders. I shivered all the way to my toes. He pushed gently, stirring me forward.
I took micro, uncertain steps, still scared.
He gripped me suddenly, halting me. “You're standing before a table. Raise your leg and get on.”
“Oh.” I stretched my hands out, blindly feeling the area in front of me. But it was all air until I thought to lower my hand a bit. The wood was cool and firm to touch.
I brushed my hands over it, trying to gauge the width, and then I lifted my knee onto the surface. If I had misguided the width of this table, my fall would be painful.
But I hadn’t. And when he asked me to turnover and lay face down, I did so without once feeling the edge.
“Relax pet. I want to give you a massage, that’s all.”
But I had barely sighed in relief when his dark chuckle filled the room. Moon above. I almost fell for that. Maybe it was really just a massage, but there was undoubtedly a twist in it.
And the uncertainty of that twist spiked my temperature and sent my heart thudding harder. I could smell wax now, a sudden smell that had been absent even two seconds ago.
“Mmm,” my shoulders relaxed when I felt his hand on my calf, caressing softly. Mint. Was that mint I smell?
My head lifted off the table and Mordaine started to chuckle again.
“I thought you would find your husband’s scent comforting,” he said from above me as his hand doubled, moving up both my calves, oiling my skin.
“I do. Thank you.” I whispered.
“Did Finn tell you about how he was trained?”
My body tensed. This habit of suddenly changing subjects suddenly would always startle me.
“He did.”
His hands were between my thighs now, moving them apart and my whole body, tense, seemed to be attuned to that one spot where his hands whispered over without really touching.
“Good. Finn was the second hybrid I had to deal with in all my years, but the most difficult.” He squeezed my ass cheeks, his hand gliding and sleek with oil. “Do you think you’ll be difficult?”
“I’m not a hybrid."
I was struggling to squirm, not to make a sound, as my skin was hyper sensitive at this point, and every little touch made my abdomen contract over the table.
He caressed my labia, once, and my hips arched off the bench and relaxed again. “Are you sure?”
“What?” I let out deep breaths, trying to control myself, to be patient. What did he mean if I was sure?
Grandma was only a witch. Was that considered a hybrid in dragon vocabulary?