Dark Obsession (9 page)

‘That’s right, well done,’ Crispian congratulated her, and he kissed the base of her belly, pressing his mouth down and moving her clitoris within the tight ring. She felt her abdominal muscles start to contract, felt the glorious swelling towards climax as her legs stiffened. Tania suddenly tugged sharply on Annabel’s hair and the pain distracted her at the vital moment. Again the longed-for orgasm evaded her, and this time she felt close to tears.

‘Come on,’ Crispian urged her. ‘Only five to go, and you’ll get better as you go along. Everyone does.’

Once more he began to trace a letter and this time she got it straight away, and then the next three letters came easily so that she was only left with one more to guess.

‘You’re a quick learner,’ said Crispian. ‘This is thirsty work, Tania. Got any wine?’

‘Don’t stop now!’ Annabel said; she was nearly shouting.

He gripped her breasts in his hands and she shuddered with pleasure as his strong fingers massaged them in the way she loved. ‘Sorry, have to have a top-up. Pour it on her breasts, Tania. They feel rather warm after the suction cups.’

Annabel tensed in anticipation and all at once ice-cold Chablis was poured onto her breasts. To her astonishment Tania and Crispian lapped at one breast each. Their mouths and tongues were so different that it made the experience incredibly sensuous and Annabel could hear herself whimpering with delight.

When her breasts were fully engorged, Crispian and Tania stopped lapping at them and leant over the frantically squirming Annabel. ‘Do you want me to untie you?’ asked Crispian. ‘You could go back to the house. I don’t want you complaining to Pa that we kept you here against your will.’

‘Don’t stop!’ Annabel pleaded, totally lost in the sensations the stepbrother and sister had aroused and no longer caring in the least that she was tied up and spread-eagled on a bed of straw. Even the slight prickling of the rug against the bare skin of her shoulders and legs only added to her general excitement.

‘You’re enjoying the game then?’ he persisted, his blue eyes staring into hers, as though trying to penetrate her thoughts.

‘Yes! Yes! Please, don’t leave me like this.’

‘My, my, who’d have thought you’d be quite so enthusiastic! I can see we’re going to have an exciting three weeks,’ laughed Crispian, and then to Annabel’s relief he slid down her body and at last his head was between her thighs again.

Tania continued to pour wine over the other girl’s
breasts
, but now she sucked more firmly at the swollen globes, enjoying the gentle tremors that were running through her.

Crispian allowed one finger to drift slowly up and down Annabel’s damp inner channel and, once it was lubricated by her secretions, he slid it carefully into her vagina and heard her give a tiny gasp of pleasure. Bending his head he ran his tongue lazily along the tissue surrounding her encircled clitoris and then pressed upwards with his finger, holding it firmly against her G-spot while his other hand rested softly on the base of her stomach. When he felt her abdominal muscles start to tense he pressed down more firmly. The tight pressure deep inside the fastened girl increased and he heard her breathing quicken with excitement as her body started to reach the point of no return.

Tania could tell how close Annabel was to climaxing and she deliberately let some of the wine spill into the other girl’s armpits, the cool liquid sparking further tremors of delight through her upper body.

Annabel felt as though there was a long piece of cord running the length of her body from behind her clitoris, throbbing within its copper ring, to her breasts, and the cord was steadily tightening, pulling the various sensations closer and closer together while between her thighs the hot heavy pressure throbbed and spread.

With one hand pressing her belly and a finger stimulating her G-spot, Crispian finally allowed his tongue to swirl around the stem of Annabel’s clitoris and at once her belly arched upwards against his hand.

‘Oh yes, stay there, please!’ she cried in delight.

He hadn’t expected her to be so responsive or so vocal and could feel his own excitement rising as he waited until her thighs were quaking violently, her stomach swollen and hard against his hand and her breathing ragged. Then, and only then, did he at last allow his clever tongue to dance across the swollen and fastened clitoris and as he
did
so a searing flash of exquisite pleasure tore right through Annabel and at last her whole body was convulsed in orgasm.

She heard herself screaming with pleasure, felt her head twisting and turning on the straw and her arms and legs writhing within the ropes but she didn’t care. All that interested her was the wonderful thrill of explosion, the glorious release of carefully calculated sexual tension. It was the best climax she’d ever had, and at one stage she wondered if it was ever going to end as her body continued to be shaken by tiny after-tremors of pleasure, but finally she was still and lay in an exhausted heap on the straw.

‘I hope that made up for a rather boring dinner,’ said Crispian as he and Tania unfastened the ropes.

Dazed, Annabel got to her feet, leaning against one of the poles as her legs threatened to collapse beneath her. ‘It was incredible!’ she said breathlessly.

Crispian glanced at Tania, who nodded her head in answer to the unspoken question. ‘Perhaps you’ll join us again, some other time?’ he asked.

Thinking of the excitement of the night and the unbelievable sensations she’d experienced, Annabel knew that she wanted more. ‘That sounds like a good idea,’ she said with a tiny smile.

Crispian gave her a long, level look and there was a mixture of admiration and appreciation in his eyes. ‘We look forward to it,’ he said lazily. ‘Sleep well.’

‘Aren’t you coming back to the house?’ asked Annabel.

Tania stood by her stepbrother and put her arm through his, resting her head against him. ‘We’ve still got one or two things to do here,’ she said huskily.

As Annabel turned away she was aware that the pair of them were already kissing, but to her astonishment she didn’t mind. She wasn’t concerned about what they did, or what they meant to each other. For the first time in her life she’d enjoyed a sexual experience without emotional
commitment
, and she intended to enjoy some more before she left.

David Crosbie would be surprised at how well she was getting on with the occupants of Leyton Hall, she thought to herself with a smile.

Chapter Four

THE FOLLOWING DAY
, Marina Corbett-Wynne awoke and realised that for the first time in several years she felt happy. For a moment she simply lay in her bed, which was draped with eighteenth-century lace, and savoured the sensation. Then she tried to analyse it. Why, after all this time, should she be happy? Almost before the question was formed she knew the answer, as a picture of Sir Matthew Stevens sprang into her mind.

He was a handsome man, but she’d met many other handsome men who hadn’t had the same effect on her. He was well-built and rugged looking, but so had her husband been once, and even then she hadn’t felt the way she’d felt about their visitor last night.

No, she thought to herself, nice as all of that was, what had really attracted her was the sense that Sir Matthew understood women. She was quite certain that, in the unlikely event of there ever being anything physical between them, he would be able to give her starved body the kind of pleasure that she secretly longed for.

As she thought about this her hand strayed over her flat stomach and lingered in her pubic hair, pressing down softly. She rotated her palm and felt an almost forgotten
tingling
sensation start up beneath her hand. Startled, she snatched it back and lay with both arms at her sides, shocked by what she’d done.

When the maid came and ran her bath, Marina rejected the conventional silk blouse and pleated skirt selected for her and picked out a draped chiffon dress in ice-cream pink instead. She knew that it flattered her, and since Sir Matthew had invited her to go and look at his litter of pups, she might as well go there looking her best.

‘Isn’t there any bath oil left?’ she asked as she walked across the pale grey floorboards and climbed into the deep, marbled, claw-footed bath. Opposite, the large window was draped with bright sea-green curtains, drawn up into soft folds to let in the light. The walls were also sea-green with a looping stencil pattern around the top, and once she was in the water and the oil had been added the maid drew a cream muslin screen around her before leaving.

Marina sighed with pleasure. She loved her bathroom: it was so tranquil and there was nothing in its design or the furnishings to remind her of her husband, his horses or, more to the point, his strange desires. Remembering the harness that had blighted their sexual relationship right from the start she shuddered to herself.

Her first husband had been the sexually dominant one in the marriage. To learn that her second husband wanted her to lead him round the room like one of his own horses had shocked her, and within a few months even the small amount of sexual desire she’d initially felt for him had died.

She knew about his grooms but, as long as he kept them in his own quarters and no one outside the family knew, she wasn’t concerned. At least it kept him from her bed. But although she didn’t want him she realised now that her body wasn’t ready to remain celibate for the rest of her life. At forty-four she was still in her sexual prime; all she needed was someone to bring her to life again. She couldn’t help hoping that Sir Matthew might be that man.

Once she was dressed she sent for Annabel, asked her to look over the music room, the dining room and the lobby and then dismissed her. The girl seemed competent, if a little heavy-eyed this morning, and for once restoring Leyton Hall wasn’t top of Marina’s list of priorities.

‘I’m going for a walk,’ she told her husband, putting her head round the library door and shuddering at the chaos.

His head came up sharply. ‘A walk? Are you ill?’

‘I do have legs,’ she said coolly. ‘Unlike you, I prefer to use them for walking rather than riding.’

‘First I knew of it,’ he muttered. ‘Besides, you’ve got a slender waist, lovely little breasts and a tight bum, too, but you don’t seem interested in using those.’

‘You are unspeakably coarse,’ retorted Marina. ‘Please save that kind of talk for your stable girls.’

He flushed. ‘What about your designer? Who’s going to look after her?’

‘I’m going for a walk, not a holiday abroad. By the time Annabel’s looked over the rooms I shall be back. We can talk about them then.’

‘As you like. I’m taking that new filly out for a ride later on. Don’t know if I’ll be back for lunch or not.’

‘I assume you mean the horse and not that new girl, Sandra,’ his wife said smoothly, and before he could think of a reply, she’d gone. Sighing, he went back to studying the pile of bills in front of him. They weren’t very reassuring and he decided that later that day he’d talk to Crispian again about finding a rich wife. They desperately needed a fresh injection of money and Marina’s was so cleverly tied up that it could only be touched with her approval.

At the same time as he was trying to console himself with thoughts of a ride later that day, with Sandra for company and probably a little stop somewhere secluded, his wife was walking towards The Old Mill.

As she approached, Sir Matthew’s car drew up alongside her and he wound down his window. ‘On your way to see me, Lady Corbett-Wynne?’

She felt her heart fluttering. ‘Yes, as I was passing I though I might as well look at your litter of spotty puppies.’

Knowing full well that she couldn’t have been passing because there wasn’t anywhere else for her to go along that particular road, Matthew’s pulse quickened. He hadn’t expected such a speedy response to his invitation and was glad that his planned business meeting had been cancelled.

‘I was off to London,’ he explained, indicating his smart grey suit, light blue shirt and grey tie. ‘Luckily they called me on the car phone to say the meeting had been cancelled. Hop in. There’s no point in you walking on your own.’

Secretly grateful because she didn’t enjoy any kind of physical exercise, Marina smiled prettily at him. ‘Well, I suppose you’re right, but it seems a shame to waste this lovely morning.’

‘You’ll get plenty of air on your way back,’ he replied, and smiled to himself at the look of distaste that flashed briefly over her normally carefully controlled features. His assessment had been right, he thought. She wasn’t really a country woman at heart. Leading her into the house, he called for his housekeeper to bring them tea and biscuits. ‘Unless you’d like something stronger?’ he added in an aside.

Marina shook her head, wishing that the palms of her hands didn’t feel quite so sweaty and hot. ‘Tea will be lovely. Do you have Earl Grey?’

‘Afraid not. Now that I’m on my own, as long as it’s hot and strong I’m content,’ apologised Sir Matthew.

Marina smiled at him. ‘Hot and strong sounds perfect,’ she said politely and then blushed as she realised what she’d said.

Matthew kept his expression neutral, touching her gently on the elbow as he ushered her towards one of the large armchairs in the room. Marina sank back in the deep cushions and glanced about her.

It was a nice room, warm and lived-in. A tall grandfather clock stood in one corner and she liked the reassuring ticking sound. Prints of landscapes and dogs decorated the walls while the original fireplace was untouched and laid with wood logs ready for the evening. Vases of flowers stood on each of the two tables, and both windowsills were full of potted plants, all flourishing. Marina wondered if Matthew’s long fingers attended to them, or whether this was his housekeeper’s doing.

Matthew sat opposite her, relaxing on the sofa and crossing his legs as he smiled into her eyes. ‘Once we’ve had the tea we’ll go and look at the pups. I’m afraid they’re not ready to leave their mother yet though.’

Marina shook her head. ‘Of course not. I’m not even sure that I’ll be able to take one, I mean we already seem to have too many dogs, but …’