Chapter 2: The Alcove's Second Act
Elara felt the heat of their stares long before she turned to meet them. Two young barons, barely past their majority, stood at the edge of the dance floor with their wine glasses frozen halfway to their lips. They had been watching her all evening, tracking her path through the ballroom with the furtive hunger of schoolboys caught at a keyhole. She let her gaze drift over them, slow and deliberate, and saw the flush creep up the fair one's neck.
The crimson curtain swept aside with a whisper of velvet. Elara stepped into the alcove and let the fabric fall shut behind her, muffling the string quartet into a distant murmur. She heard their boots on the parquet floor a moment later, hesitant, then urgent.
The taller one spoke first. "My lady, we saw you with the others. We thought, perhaps..."
"Did you now." Elara settled onto the low chaise with the practiced grace of a woman who had done this a hundred times. The gold charms at her waist chimed softly. She tilted her head, letting her chestnut hair spill over one bare shoulder. "I wonder which of you has been watching me most closely."
They exchanged a glance. The fair one, Lord Ashworth, took a half step forward. "I confess, Lady Vance, you've commanded my attention since the moment you entered. Your gown, your bearing. Everything."
"Flattering." She crooked a finger at him. "Come closer, then. Don't be shy."
He came. She reached out and caught the front of his breeches, squeezing the bulge beneath the fine brocade until he gasped. The other baron, darker and more serious, circled around to her side. She let go of Ashworth and turned to address his companion.
"And you, my lord. Do you fancy what you see, gentlemen?"
"Every piece of it," the dark one murmured. She felt his hand settle on her shoulder, then slide down the inside of her arm. "You're more beautiful than the dancers they brought in from the city."
Elara laughed, a low musical sound. "The dancers are hired. I am here by choice."
She rose from the chaise and knelt before them on the thick rug, looking up through her lashes. The position lifted her breasts against the cream lace bodice, spilling them over the top. She watched both men struggle to keep their composure and found the sight delicious. Young noblemen were always so eager, so desperate to prove themselves. They made the easiest work.
"Unfasten your trousers, sirs. Let me see what you've brought to my evening."
Ashworth's fingers fumbled at his buttons. The dark one made a cleaner job of it, and his cock sprang free, long and flushed at the tip. She took hold of it lightly, stroking once, twice, while Ashworth freed his own. His was shorter but thick, with a broad, blunt head and a neat thatch of golden hair at the base.
She wrapped her lips around the dark one first, taking him deep with a slick glide that made him grip the curtain rod above her head. His taste was clean, a hint of salt and soap. She worked her tongue along his shaft as she pulled back, then drew him in again, deeper this time, until her nose brushed the curling black hair at his root. He groaned and thrust shallowly into her mouth, one hand threading into her hair.
Elara curled her fingers around Ashworth's cock while she sucked the other, stroking him with firm, even pumps. The gold charms at her hip jingled with the rhythmic motion of her arm. His tip grew slick with the fluid beading at the crown. She slid her thumb across it in a slow circle and felt him shudder.
"You're not going to last, are you," she murmured against the dark one's shaft, pulling off for a breath. "Neither of you. That's quite all right. I like a quick spill."
She took the dark one back into her throat, relaxing her jaw until the head pushed past the soft resistance, and held him there. Her eyes watered. Behind her, Ashworth's breathing grew ragged, punctuated by small choked sounds. She felt the pulse in the dick she held, the hardening urgency that preceded release.
But she pulled off before he could spend. She wanted them both ready when she gave the word.
"Whichever of you finishes first," she said, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, "will have my company for the remainder of the evening. The other may watch."
She returned to the dark one with new determination, taking him hard and fast, her hand working the base while her mouth took the crown. His hips bucked. Ashworth stepped closer, offering himself at the corner of her mouth, and she took him in her hand again, jerking him with vicious intent.
The dark one came with a strangled cry, flooding her tongue with the bitter salt taste. She swallowed every drop, drawing it out until he sagged against the curtain. Then she released him and turned all her attention to Ashworth.
He was trembling. The head of his cock was dark with blood, slick with precum. She took him between her lips and sucked deeply, hollowing her cheeks, and within half a dozen strokes he spilled into her mouth in hot, pulsing jets. She swallowed that too, then licked the crown clean until he whimpered.
She sat back on her heels and smiled at them. Both cocks were wet, still half-hard, glistening in the candlelight.
"Now," she said, "that's a pleasant start. But I confess, my lords, I haven't had my own pleasure yet. I expect you to attend to that before the night is through."
She rose, smoothing her skirt. The cream lace bodice was damp with her own mouth's moisture. The two barons stood before her, dazed and pliant.
"Shall we find somewhere the music isn't so terribly loud?" She gestured toward the far end of the estate with one elegant hand. "I know a chamber overlooking the gardens. Warm, private. No one will think to look for us there."
Ashworth nodded eagerly. The dark one recovered his composure and straightened his collar. Elara led them out of the alcove by a circuitous route, through a servants' corridor she had memorized years ago, past the kitchens and up a narrow staircase. Her hand brushed the small of Ashworth's back once. She felt him lean into the touch.
The room she chose was small and dim, lit by a single candle on the windowsill. A bed stood against the far wall, draped in a worn but clean quilt. She closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock with a satisfying click.
"Sit," she ordered. They obeyed, side by side on the edge of the bed. She stood before them and unfastened the low neckline of her bodice, letting the lace fall away until her breasts swung free. They were full and heavy, the nipples rosy and tight from the cool air of the corridor.
"Fondle them," she said. "I want to feel your hands on me before anything else."
They reached for her together. Ashworth took her left breast in both hands, kneading the flesh with clumsy urgency. The dark one bent to her right nipple and drew it into his mouth, sucking until she hissed through her teeth. She cupped the back of his head and pressed him closer. The sensation built low in her belly, a warm throb that made her thighs clench.
"Good," she breathed. "Yes. Like that."
They took turns at her breasts, trading off, licking and sucking and rolling the nipples between their fingers until she was wet and aching. Elara reached down and hiked her skirts up past her hips. She was bare beneath them, a decision she had made hours ago in anticipation of just such a night.
"See what a proper lady wears to a ball," she said, spreading her thighs. "Nothing. Because I knew I'd find eager cocks to fill me."
Ashworth groaned and dropped to his knees before her. He pressed his face between her thighs, his tongue finding her clit with the flailing enthusiasm of youth. The dark one pulled him aside moments later and took his turn, more deliberate, more skilled, circling the swollen nub until she was gripping the bedpost and biting her own lip to keep quiet.
"Enough," she gasped. "I need a cock inside me. Now."
They argued briefly over who would take her first. She decided for them, tugging the dark one onto the bed and straddling his hips. He slid into her in one smooth stroke, the wet heat of her cunt welcoming him. She rode him hard, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, while Ashworth knelt behind her and pressed his thick cock between her cheeks.
She reached back and guided him. "There. Push into me. I can take both."
He was hesitant, and she was not. She bore down as the dark one withdrew, opening herself, and Ashworth's head breached her with a slow, burning stretch. She cried out and took him deeper, until they were seated inside her together, their cocks pressed against each other through the thin wall of her flesh.
They found a rhythm. The dark one thrust up as Ashworth pushed in, a careful alternating dance that made her see stars. Elara lost herself in it, her head thrown back, her moans rising past the point of discretion. She did not care who heard. The moon was high, the house was full, and she was the choice of two young gentlemen.
The dark one came first, spilling into her womb with a shaking groan. Ashworth lasted barely a dozen strokes more, pulling out at the last moment and jerking himself across her back, painting her skin with thick, hot ropes of seed that dripped down her spine toward the small of her back.
She collapsed forward onto her hands, breathing hard. The room smelled of sex and candle wax.
"Not bad, my lords," she said, between breaths. "For your first time with a woman of taste. But the night is young, and I intend to enjoy it fully." She rolled over, and the seed on her back smeared against the quilt. The two young men stared at her, spent and incredulous and already stirring again at her words.
Elara smiled in the candlelight. "I haven't decided which of you deserves the rest of my evening. Perhaps you should persuade me."