To Disappear by Natasha Rostova Page A

closed her lips tightly around the throbbing hardness of his shaft. Her tongue laved the underside of his penis as his hands clutched her head and he began to thrust indulgently in and out of her mouth.
    A glorious merriment filled him as he looked down and watched the movement of his rampant erection pumping between the pouting red lips of his captive, making his loins twitch at the thought of the glistening lips farther down. How he had always longed to fuck her there, longed to sink his stiffness into her and thrust for as long as he could until splendid rapture claimed him.
    The thought cast his senses into a maelstrom as he pulled his saliva-wet shaft out of Lydia’s mouth and commanded her to perch on the desk. To his intense gratification she did, even pulling up her dress and spreading her legs to reveal the damp folds of her sex, the delicate morsel of her clitoris protruding forth as if begging to be touched, and Preston was only too delighted to comply, for although he intended to punish her for her infraction, he was not averse to her obtaining some pleasure for the time being.
    In fact it made their situation all the more intriguing, as she would be obliged to struggle with her distaste of submitting to them, while at the same time unable to deny the physical pleasure she received at their hands.
    Lydia’s breathing came in rapid pants as Preston began to massage the receptive button with his fingertips, everything in him thrilled at the sight of proud Lydia spread out on the desk like a lamb at a sacrificial altar, her pale skin burnished with perspiration, the tight buds of her nipples standing proud from the soft swell of her breasts.
    But before she reached her climax Preston desisted. Lydia’s eyes opened, her chest heaving.
    ‘Ah, Lydia, not so regal anymore, are you?’ he goaded.
    She didn’t respond, but her lips compressed with displeasure and apprehension. She began to close her legs, but he pressed his hands between them, against the silky flesh of her inner thighs.
    ‘Oh no,’ he said, his voice laced with menace. ‘And especially not in front of me, Lydia. Don’t even think of it.’
    A tremor ran through her as she stared at him with wide eyes. Preston’s penis ached. He longed to envelop himself in her cunt, but he clenched his teeth and forcibly restrained himself.
    He leaned over her, his breath against her face as he whispered, ‘You were more of a little sensualist than you ever let on, weren’t you?’
    Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. ‘W-what are you talking about?’ she asked timorously.
    ‘What other activities did you engage in when we were younger?’
    Lydia’s mouth tightened. ‘That’s none of your business.’
    Preston grabbed her by the chin, his fingers digging into her cheeks and he forced her to look at him. Rage tightened every muscle in his body as memories of their youth flooded his mind. ‘How dare you,’ he hissed. ‘You’d better watch yourself, Lydia, or you’ll be out on the streets before you know it. Is that what you want? Do you want to escape from the investigators on your own? I’d be more than delighted to sit back and watch that happen, if for no other reason than to see how far you get. And we both know, darling , that it won’t be very far at all, don’t we?’
    He drew her face closer to his, so close that their harsh breath mingled in the space between them. ‘Is that what you want?’
    She didn’t respond, although Preston could not determine if she didn’t want to or if she was simply incapable. He released her and grasped his erection, which was still wet from her oral attentions. He picked up her hand and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, commanding her in curt tones to massage him.
    She stared at him, then down at the movement of her hand as she began to stroke the compact stalk. Her thumb rubbed the underside, the fingers of her free hand cupping his tight sacs as her fist repeatedly engulfed him.
    ‘You’re quite