Authors: Maya Hess
‘Ah, here they are.’ Liz carefully placed a tiny pair of scarlet panties on the bed and then began to sift through her wardrobe. ‘And this will get his blood pressure soaring.’ A flimsy red and black garment slid off the hanger and joined the matching panties while Liz grinned at me. The towel was draped loosely around my body and apart from that I wore nothing but a widening smile and a bemused expression that hadn’t really left my face since the day I arrived on the island.
‘Is that our aim?’
‘He’s going to need a paramedic by the time we’re done.’
‘Done?’
‘Put these on,’ Liz instructed, answering my question with an exaggerated pout. ‘And get yourself in the mood.’
I didn’t intend to argue with her. While my conscience wasn’t entirely clear – I still had Connor rattling in my mind – I instinctively knew that in a couple of hours I would be feeling as delicious and outrageous as I had when I’d bound and spanked Dominic. If only I could convince myself that none of it was my fault, that my stolen thoughts were responsible for my irrational behaviour, then I would feel a whole lot better about slipping into the garments that lay on the bed.
I stared at the sheer red fabric. I felt certain that Connor would be poring over my diary with Steph nestled beside him. The thought made me even more determined to play Liz and Lewis’s games although I couldn’t help wondering what Connor would think of me if he discovered what I’d been up to. An ache gripped the pit of my belly, a needy, desperate ache that would exist as long as Connor wasn’t mine. I hoped he would be jealous as hell.
‘Oh, Connor,’ I said out loud, my imagination noisily crossing the boundary into reality. But I quickly realised that messing about with Liz and Lewis had no bearing on whether Connor was attracted to me. It was thankful distraction, especially as he was most likely spilling himself into Steph at that very moment, while I was considering how I’d look in Liz’s little red baby doll number. ‘I love it,’ I said, hoping she hadn’t heard what I’d said before. I forced and jammed and kicked Connor out of my mind. I couldn’t quite close the door, though.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror, balancing on my toes. Liz had said that ideally I should be wearing high heels, but hers were a little too small for me. While she sought out some make-up, I admired my new appearance. It felt strange wearing someone else’s panties but I enjoyed the feeling of the thin strap running between my legs and couldn’t help admiring the way the band of lace pulled up high on my hips, emphasising the length of my legs. I didn’t think I needed heels at all.
‘Lewis bought that for me last birthday. He’d love to see you in it.’ Liz approached me with a scarlet lipstick and carefully streaked it on my lips. I’d never worn such a vibrant colour and if I hadn’t been adorned in the naughty lingerie I would have felt ridiculous. As it was, I was beginning to realise why men loved all this stuff so much.
‘Let me fix your hair.’ Liz had to stand on tiptoe herself as she swept a brush through my long hair. The bathroom steam had added waves and gloss and the darkness of it against my pale face and scarlet lips made me feel as if I’d been touched by the devil.
Suddenly, greedily, I wanted Liz all for myself.
‘Let your hair fall forward, like this. It looks really sexy.’ She pressed against me, the fullness of her breasts melding around my back, her voice slow and winding like smoke curling from a winter bonfire.
‘Do you think so?’ I played with my hair but found myself turning away from the mirror and facing Liz. ‘Do you think I’m attractive?’
‘Lewis will adore –’
‘Do
you
think I’m attractive, I said.’ For some reason, my eyelids felt heavy and my cheeks flushed strawberry as I realised how provocative I was being. The new, impulsive me, when faced with the thrill and danger of Dominic at Creg-ny-Varn, had acted impetuously and without a care for the consequences. Now, more practised in the art of spontaneous seduction, I quickly plotted and considered how I could charm Liz and keep her all to myself. One thing was certain: I wanted to make love to her more than anything. Even more than Lewis had told me she wanted me.
‘You are as beautiful as the sea,’ she said, smiling, her rich voice again filled with experience and poise. She dabbed beneath my lip, wiping away smeared lipstick. ‘And in that naughty little get-up, you’re irresistible.’
I glanced down at my body. My breasts just showed through the gossamer weight of the scarlet fabric, appearing larger for some reason, while my still damp stomach was exposed through the deep slit up the front, allowing a clear view of the tiny panties I was wearing. I’d never felt so sexy.
‘Touch me, if I’m irresistible.’ To indicate where I’d like Liz to touch me, I lifted up the fine net so that it shrouded my face like a veil. I closed my eyes. For a moment, I felt nothing and imagined that Liz was staring at me blankly, her open mouth a sign of her shock, truly believing that I was shameless. If only she knew how far from the truth that was. I was simply tumbling through an adventure, initially fuelled by my lost inheritance but now powered by far more potent emotions.
Her open mouth came down upon the tanned skin of my belly, just below my navel, sketching a wet line down to the top of the tiny knickers. I drew in a breath and held it for safekeeping, capturing the loveliness of the moment for ever. Liz moved slowly, pressing her tongue into my skin as she dropped lower so that finally her lips and teeth nipped at the rim of lace decorating the thong she had dressed me in. My breath escaped in an encouraging whimper.
‘Get on the bed,’ I heard someone say and then, as Liz went to lie on the quilt, I realised it must have been me. I touched where her mouth had been and then followed her to the bed. She looked stunning in her expensive French lingerie with her breasts vying for space beneath the lace and her misty eyes drawing me closer. She lay on her back, her fingers resting on the teasing expanse of naked skin between her corset and knickers, and I couldn’t help folding myself around her legs and letting my mouth do what she had just done to me.
But unlike me, who had let out a breathy gasp in a vain attempt to hide the desire I harboured for another woman, Liz quickly began to pant and moan in response to my kisses and licks. She rocked her hips as I peeled aside the fresh lacy triangle at the top of her legs to reveal a neat patch of blonde hair that dissolved into her creamy skin.
I gazed at her, my eyes dizzy from the sight and my mind woozy from her scent. The very core of another woman was inches from my face and I don’t know how long it took me to lower my mouth to the dainty pout that she offered up, or even how I separated her soft lips with my tongue. But I do remember the first taste of her juice as clearly as my first sip of an exotic cocktail. Liz was blended to perfection with just the right amount of musk to send a tremble of need down my spine and plenty of sweetness to make me salivate for more. As my tongue flicked through the delicate groove of her pussy, I realised why men desired women so much.
I thought of Marco and his rough search of my body every time he took me in the heat of the day; I recalled how Dominic had slipped his fingers inside me as he told of Ethan Kinrade’s loneliness, their presence an indication of his boss’s need. I recalled, too, Liz’s own husband as he had taken me so suddenly in the beach cottage and realised that if this was what a man experienced each time he explored a woman, then it was a wonder our bodies weren’t constantly being looted.
I removed Liz’s panties completely, allowing her to spread her legs wide and offer a total view of her pussy. Lying beside her, as her fingers brushed tenderly through my hair, I began to take small, interested laps from the tip of her mound down to the gentle spread of her bottom as it melded into the quilt. Never before had I seen another woman at this close range. I was fascinated and driven wild by the possibilities. At that moment, I didn’t want Lewis to spoil our fun and I didn’t even want Connor or Dominic or Kinrade to invade my head with the complications that each of them presented. I just wanted to devour Liz – although she had other ideas, which included her being allowed a fair share of me. After all, it was her fantasy in the first place that drew us together and as I lay amongst the pillows, with Liz taking her turn on my body, prising open every possible place with her fingers and tongue and driven forward by my little moans of delight, as all this was happening to me, I became more determined than ever to fulfil the mission that I had set out to achieve.
The orgasm that unexpectedly crashed through me, with the power of the insistent breakers on the beach, sealed my resolve not to give up. But first, before I committed to my final assault on Kinrade, I wanted to make Liz feel as delicious as I did.
When Steph arrived at the beach cottage, she was all fizzed up and excited. Having met her only a couple of times previously, I should have found it difficult to tell if her behaviour was typical, but such was the force with which she bounded across the rocks and such was her agitation, in a positive way, that her enthusiasm was unmistakable.
‘It’s going to be just like Cinderella’s ball,’ she squealed, catching her ankle on a sharp rock but ignoring the pain. There was no ‘hello’, no explanation for her behaviour two days ago at Connor’s place when she brazenly informed me that she had stolen my diary. I glanced at her hands to see if she was returning it but I didn’t make out that she was carrying anything. Steph approached me, as I was collecting mussels from the rocks, as if she had known me all her life. I stood and stretched, my back a little sore from the harvest and also from the contortions Liz and I had performed yesterday. I gave a little smile at the thought.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘Did Connor tell you where I was staying?’
Steph nodded, her almost white-blonde hair frothing in the sunlight. The day was blessed with a hint of warmth from the winter sun. ‘How do you manage down here?’ Her zeal was temporarily halted as she raised her hand to her brow and squinted at the low, weathered walls of my cottage, her mouth curling into an expression of what I believed to be distaste.
‘Just fine,’ I replied. ‘Apart from having to lug fresh water down here daily, I get by very well.’ I knew what she was thinking as she glanced at my thoroughly wrapped-up body that showed no shape whatsoever beneath the six or so layers I had put on earlier. ‘If I keep the fire going, I stay toasty warm and the shop is within walking distance.’
‘Are you going to invite me in, then?’ Steph exuded impertinence, especially from the smile that had hardly left her face since she came bounding across the beach.
‘Of course,’ I said and gathered up the mussels in one of my mother’s old tablecloths. ‘Come and have tea.’ I was hoping that she might be tempted to deliver my diary and also give away details about her relationship with Connor. It still bothered me immensely.
Once she had finished poking about the cottage, which she evidently saw as a cute plaything rather than my home, she settled in an armchair and watched while I made tea.
‘Do you have it, then?’ It was my diary after all. ‘My pocket book,’ I added when she appeared perplexed.
‘Yes, yes, I’ll get to that. I want to know what you think about the Christmas party up at the big house.’
‘Creg-ny-Varn?’ I said stupidly. ‘Connor has asked me to go with him but I’m not sure if I will.’ I waited for the change in her expression, watched for the downturn of her pretty almond-shaped eyes and the barely-there lines of a frown when she realised that Connor had asked me to the ball rather than her. It was obviously a token gesture on Connor’s part but unfortunately the only ammunition I had.
Steph continued to grin. ‘Aw, you must go. He’d be devastated if you didn’t. It must be just about the most exciting thing to happen on the island in a long time and I can’t say that I’ve ever been to a masked ball at such a fine country mansion.’
‘Devastated?’
‘I doubt if he’d go alone. Connor’s not big on socialising. If you don’t go with him, I will.’
I swallowed. ‘A masked ball, did you say?’ There were simply too many things to take in at once. My life in Spain was uncomplicated, quite unlike the emotional rush that had swamped me since my arrival on the island, and now all of a sudden I was facing new relationships, however serious or permanent, legal battles and a desire for someone I hadn’t seen for fourteen years.
‘Such a fun idea, don’t you think? Apparently Mr Kinrade himself thought it up, but I’ve never met him so I have no idea what it will be like.’ Steph’s excitement was incessant. ‘And I have nothing to wear.’
‘That sounds fitting,’ I said, not really to Steph but more to myself as I mulled over the implications.
‘Huh?’
‘The secrecy, the elusiveness. Sounds like Kinrade, all right.’ I handed Steph her tea and she didn’t even notice that it wasn’t exactly boiling and that the milk was in short supply. ‘Biscuit?’ I offered her a packet of chocolate digestives and she took several.
Why I was being civil to the girl, I didn’t know, although her enthusiasm was infectious and rapidly attaching itself to me. I began to experience symptoms of anticipation like hers. Going to Kinrade’s ball with Connor – for I saw no other way to gain access to what I presumed would be a strictly controlled event and it would at least prevent Steph from being his date – would be my initial and perhaps only chance of contact with Ethan Kinrade. How I would react to his presence, I didn’t know. It could go to either extreme: I could fall mute and be so intimidated by his presence that I wouldn’t utter a word of protest or, and I suspected that with the build-up of anger inside me this was the more likely, I would hammer my thoughts into the man and demand that my case be heard. Either way, worrying about what to wear to the event was far from my mind.
‘There’s a shop in town that specialises in ball gowns and cocktail dresses and has some wild fancy dress outfits.’ Steph was unstoppable. ‘You are the only other woman I know on this entire island and I absolutely
demand
that you come with me to help me choose a costume.’
‘Sure,’ I said absentmindedly, unaware of what I had let myself in for. My head was a soup of thoughts and for the first time I actually realised that I was soon to come face to face with Ethan Kinrade. ‘I would love to help you choose a costume. I’ll need one myself.’ And I grinned almost as brightly as Steph.
It was nearly an hour later when Steph finally ran out of things to say about the party. Her desire to meet the elusive Kinrade was almost as great as mine, although for strictly different reasons. Steph, it seemed, was on the lookout for any wealthy, good-looking bachelor going and Kinrade fitted her criteria almost perfectly. I felt a pang of jealousy on Connor’s behalf. The woman was obviously brazen and had no morals. I was sure Connor, on the other hand, would be a loyal partner. I wondered whether to tell him about Steph’s interest in other men but decided that Connor was big enough to make up his own mind. It did, however, give me some hope that Connor and Steph might not be the inseparable couple I had first thought.
‘I’m destined to be an old maid,’ she said and then confessed to being only twenty-three. What she really meant was that she hadn’t had good, sorry,
great
sex since her Parisian escapade. Steph was in love with the idea of seducing a powerful man in possession of a large fortune and currently saw herself as Lady of the Manor, even though Kinrade might look like one of the limpets clinging to the rocks outside my cottage. ‘If I don’t get it soon, I’m going to have to hire an escort.’
I breathed a sigh of relief. Did that mean she hadn’t slept with Connor yet? I was by then thoroughly used to Steph’s frankness and laughed at the thought of her being escorted by a paid-for stranger, most likely to the nearest bed.
‘So you’ve been staying with Connor for a week now.’ I was thinking out loud, trying to work out the probability of them having had sex based on the number of nights they’d been together.
‘Yes,’ she replied casually. ‘He’s such good company.’
All I did was nod slowly and bite my bottom lip. My gaze ended up focused on the shore and I watched the frothy breakers tease the black rocks. I would just have to be honest with her, hoping she would reciprocate.
‘And, you haven’t…you know, got a thing for him?’
‘Me and Connor?’ she asked incredulously. ‘Nah.’ Her reply was quiet and unconvincing, as if she was holding something back. The short flicks of her hair as she shook her head didn’t persuade me. In fact, the very way that she purported to be uninterested in Connor told me she was madly in love and besotted with the man. ‘You like him, too?’ she added.
Too?
I was right.
I shrugged. ‘We go way back. We’ve known each other since we were kids.’ I hoped that would seal my claim on the man we both desired.
‘Yeah, so have we.’
I had to put this out of my mind, at least until I had confronted Ethan Kinrade. Connor and Steph would have to wait until after the party.
‘My diary,’ I said, attacking the other pressing matter. ‘You have it?’
‘That’s the thing,’ Steph said, giving me that mischievous look again.
‘The thing?’
‘I thought I’d slipped it in my jacket pocket before I left but…’ She raised her arms and dropped them to her sides before slurping her tea. ‘Sorry. It must still be back at Connor’s house.’ A little pout gathered her lips and she gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders, which caused some tea to spill on her fingers, and then she was yelping because she’d burnt herself and I was finding a cloth to mop her and so it was a little while before we were talking about my diary again.
I sighed, not quite sure where to begin. I wanted my diary back, possibly almost as much as I wanted Connor and Creg-ny-Varn, but I had to handle the volatile Steph carefully. Even though I didn’t know her very well, I’d already deduced that she was a wild card. Besides, I was missing my evening ritual of writing up my fantasies and, for the first time in my life, there had been
real
events to record. It didn’t seem fair.
‘It’s very personal, Steph, and I’m pretty angry that you stole it from my pack.’
‘It just kind of slipped out.’ The way she hung her head and her eyes closed momentarily convinced me that it hadn’t slipped out at all.
‘I definitely recall wedging my diary deep inside my bag. You stole it.’
‘Well, you’d been writing about me.’ She stood and paced about the small room. ‘I’d every intention of handing it in to the ferry company when I’d read it. I guessed that you’d call their lost property number. I just haven’t got around to it yet.’
‘Has Connor read it?’ Aside from getting it back, that was a major concern.
‘Maybe. Not sure.’ She shrugged and squinted out of the window as the low sun caused spangles to bob on the waves.
‘Well, we’re going to get it back. Now!’ I stood and retrieved my jacket and stoked the fire so it would still be burning when I returned. I was determined to have a night of comfort and warmth and smiled inwardly at the thought of playing catch-up with my journal. I’d already bought supplies from the shop and had treated myself to a bottle of Glen Broath. Drinking something Connor had produced made me feel a little nearer to him.
‘Couldn’t we go via the fancy dress shop to get our outfits? They’re bound to be in short supply as virtually the whole island’s going to the ball. Do you really want to go looking like that?’ She gestured at my jeans and walking boots. Steph had a point. ‘Please? And then you can have your diary back. Promise.’
I glanced at my watch. If we didn’t go soon, the shop would be closed. If I didn’t get an outfit, I couldn’t go to the ball. If I didn’t go to the ball, I wouldn’t be able to confront Kinrade in the totally demeaning way I had planned and Connor would probably take Steph as his partner instead.
‘You have a car?’
‘No, but I can borrow the Land Rover. It’s up at the distillery.’ Steph began bouncing around the cottage, animated at the prospect of choosing a costume.
* * *
We’d virtually run up to Glen Broath, our excitement showing as shots of hot breath in the still winter air. Steph had briefly asked Connor for the keys to the Land Rover and he agreed, insisting we return by six as he had some errands to run. Steph drove to Douglas as if we were about to miss a flight and all the while she was muttering about masks and bodices and what colour suited her best. I didn’t care what I wore as long as it got me into the party.
The tiny boutique, which smelled of lavender and mothballs, was stuffed with an overabundance of gowns and ludicrous costumes ranging from court jesters to dominatrix gear. Steph was drawn to the traditional, Cinderella-type gowns and pulled several off the rail.
‘What do you think?’ She held up a scarlet dress that puffed out from its tiny waist in an explosion of voile and crumpled silk and another jade gown with a slim-fitting design.
‘Beautiful,’ I agreed. ‘But they both look a bit too big for you.’ Steph was a size eight at most.
‘I mean for you, dummy.’ She pressed the dresses against me so that I had to take them and then she began rummaging in a rail of what looked like vintage gowns. Something had caught her eye as she began panting and stuttering at what she had found. The shop assistant watched.
‘Heavens, he’ll adore it.’ Steph was breathless as she held up the gown.
‘Who will?’ I asked perplexed.
She didn’t answer. ‘You must try this on.’
I didn’t need much convincing. While the ball was a nerve-racking necessity, it was also a chance to see Connor under conditions that might at least procure a dance or some intimate conversation. I wanted to look my best, especially when I confronted Ethan Kinrade, which I planned on doing in an entirely public display of revenge.
I stepped out of the changing cubicle with my cheeks flushed and my small breasts heaved to new heights by the boning in the bodice. Both Steph and the shop assistant were speechless. I turned and stared into the mirror, thinking that someone had stepped in front of me because I simply didn’t recognise the reflection. My entire body was encased in swathes of faded toffee-coloured lace, while ruffles of scrunched net skimmed my shoulders in a provocative but not overstated way. The cream bodice clung to my ribs so that I hardly dared breathe in, every little hook beneath the magnificent trim of leaves and snowdrops tying me into this masterpiece.
‘Nice,’ I said, knowing that was not the way to describe such a unique gown but lost for any other word. ‘Is it expensive?’ The skirts tumbled and swished around my legs as I turned to the shop assistant. As she was checking the price, Steph spotted a cream feather mask and handed it to me to try.
‘Fabulous! If you don’t wear this dress, I’ll –’
‘One hundred and seventy five pounds. But I’ll include some shoes and the mask.’ The shop assistant snapped her price book closed.