Gilded Lily (4 page)

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Authors: Pauline Allan

Tags: #BDSM, #menage

BOOK: Gilded Lily
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“I want you to sleep.” He wiped his soaked lips with the back of his hand.

“Tony?” she quietly asked.

“Yes, I’ll stay until morning,” he reassured her.

She curled up under the covers as he finished tucking her in. He turned the tiny knob on the bedside lamp and leaned over to press a kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she fussed around in the blankets like a cat finding the perfect position.

Tony watched her for a moment before retreating to the window seat. Seeing the pillow and blanket there for him made him feel like he was going to bed in his second home. Hell, maybe this was his first home. He got comfortable and watched the bed from afar. The thought of having to go back to the office and leave her alone for the day made his stomach ache. Tony knew she’d find things to keep busy, but she’d long to have Nicholas show up for tea. Now he knew he should’ve been able to get away sooner to have seen Nicholas more.

The office had him double booked. The operating schedule was a bitch and a half and the meetings were eating him alive. Coming to Lily’s place was his only vacation time. Seeing Nicholas had always been an added bonus. The bastard had died too soon. The familiar anger bubbled up. Tony quickly buried it in the dark space he kept for all those emotions. Anger. Grief. Love.

 

SUNSHINE SCATTERED THROUGH the window, making Lily squint to see the lump sleeping on the window seat. She remembered the afternoons when she was younger and staying over for a visit. Summer thunder would crack in the sky, breaking through the tranquil patter of rain on the window. She would sprint down the hall to this very room. Her grandma would welcome her into the bed, where she would burrow under the covers and watch out the window as the lightning flashed against the blackness. She ran her hand over the duvet. In the morning the bright sunshine would shine at the edges of the pink curtains that used to hang over the windows, as if the chaos of the night before never happened. Some nights the thunder still rippled through the silence and the lightning still whipped through darkness, but it wasn’t as scary now. As an adult it felt safe to burrow under the covers in the bed that was now her own. The morning sun rays filled the room just like they had when she was a little girl.

She watched as Tony shifted on the cushioned bench. A tilt of her head blocked the sun enough that she could make out a faint grin on his handsome face.

He tossed the blanket aside and yawned. “What are you doing up?”

“I don’t know. I’m just up.” She crawled out of the mess of covers and padded over to the window seat. “You’re going to be late,” she said and started to fold the wadded-up blanket beside him.

“What time is it?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes and started to sit up.

“It’s eleven o’clock.” She dropped the blanket back onto the bench.

“Come here.” He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. “I need you to go get the salve from the kitchen.”

“Now?” she protested, feeling the precious time slipping away before he had to leave. “I was hoping you could play with me before you go. I understand if you’re going to be late. I can wait until Wednesday.”

He groaned as she wiggled her hips. The stiff rod under her bottom made her want to rub her ass even harder against the front of his underwear, but she knew better. He hadn’t told her to move, and bringing him any kind of pleasure without his explicit instructions would cause her only heartache. He’d punish her with restriction, and that was the worst punishment of all.

“Not until those have had a few more days to heal,” he said. “You know the rules.” He lifted her off his lap. “It’s been the same for the last three years. Have I ever not protected you? Since the first day I watched you behind that podium in your class, I knew what you needed. I won’t fail you, poppet. Now, go get the salve and bring it back up here. I’m going to get in the shower.”

By the time Lily returned, she could hear the water running. She crept into the bathroom and leaned against the large glass casing of the shower. The steam swirled in frothy mists inside the enclosure.

Lily stood in silence, admiring Tony’s powerful form. His broad shoulders attached to compact biceps and strong forearms. It amazed her how a man built for such power had the ability to be so gentle. He turned and let the water spray over his head as his agile fingers massaged his scalp, rinsing the shampoo from his hair.

Lily’s pussy contracted. She owned a sense of pride at how well he’d trained her body to respond to the thought of pleasure. She quickly cupped her mound and slid her fingers between the swelling lips. The tight knot had already begun to throb, teasing her to tickle it.

“Lily, stop touching yourself.” The sound of Tony’s voice bellowed from inside the steam. “I know you’re there. I can see you.”

She dipped her chin, hoping the minor infraction wouldn’t lead to a restriction. “But how do you know I’m touching myself? Maybe I was just itching my thigh.”

“Because you have no restraint. That’s one lesson we’ll have to review next week. It seems like that’s the one rule you tend to need reminding of…often. Grab a towel.” He turned the water off and opened the glass door, allowing the fog to roll out in front of him.

She handed him a towel from the cabinet and watched as he vigorously rubbed his face. Lily looked down to find his immense cock so engorged it appeared painful.

“See?” He reached his hand between her thighs, slowly massaging her delicate space. “You’re all wet. Just the way I like you.”

Lily gasped as he slid two fingers deep inside her body.

“Wait, poppet. Don’t come again. I’ll send Renee tomorrow, if you’d like.”

He withdrew his fingers, leaving her feeling empty. “That would be nice,” she whispered.
Restriction punishment.

“Go lie on the bed. I have to put your medicine on before I go to the hospital.”

Lily did as she was told and flopped on her belly atop the disheveled blankets. She turned to find Tony standing above her. The long, thick shaft bobbed against his tight waist. Lily longed to suck it deep into her mouth and coax him to come, but she knew it had been a long time since he’d let her give him pleasure, and she wasn’t going to change his mind now.

Tony twisted the lid off the glass container. He’d made the healing ointment himself, especially for her. Her skin was delicate, and he hadn’t wanted any infection to set in or scarring that would be too extensive. He’d applied it after the first time he whipped her and every time thereafter.

Lily flinched with the first swipe of the cool cream. He knew this was not her favorite part of their visits, but once again reassured her it was a necessity. As he talked to her, she relaxed, letting him apply the rest to her buttocks and shoulder.

“Tony, I’m sorry if I’m keeping you from going into the hospital,” she said as she rested her chin on her crossed forearms. She really was. The last few months she felt more like a pain in the ass than the loving submissive she’d started out as.

“I told you before not to worry about my schedule. Just hold still. Are you going to get any writing done today?”

Lily let Tony’s massaging touch ease the tension from between her shoulder blades. Religious history was the last thing on her mind today. “I don’t know. My lecture series doesn’t start for a while. I’ve got time to work on the book later. Besides, my agent’s had me running around like mad, doing all these stupid phone interviews. I’ve had two more universities sign up for the book tour. I guess everyone is interested in how Mary Magdalene spent her days.”

She felt a pang of guilt. He did need to get going soon. She knew it, but part of her selfishly didn’t care. Nicholas was gone, and she didn’t want to be alone. The hospital where Tony worked was an hour away. She knew because of the many times he’d called her from his office and she’d wait in the kitchen and watch the clock until he walked through the door.

He patted her on the backside and twisted the lid back on the container. “Wear something light so that can soak in. No interviews for a couple of days. Got it? You need to rest.”

She nodded as she rolled off the bed.

“I mean it, poppet. Have some tea while you sit out in the bath today.”

She looked to her bare feet, unable to bear having him watch her cry yet again. Her chin felt so small in his big hand as he tipped her face to see his gaze.

“He would want that,” he said and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll call you tonight.”

Tony took his time dressing. Lily knew it was a small piece of pleasure he let her have. The fragile glimpse into something so personal made her feel close to someone, like she was a part of a pair and meant something. She loved to watch him in these quiet moments, and he knew it. The inevitable would one day come, and she wouldn’t have this opportunity any longer.

Lily relished the feel of his firm lips as he feathered tender good-bye kisses over her cheek. Then he was gone. She took a steadying breath, realizing the loss of his powerful presence and how it only magnified the loss of her best friend.

ADAM PULLED ONE of the three suitcases he owned from the hall closet. It still had sand scattered throughout the silky lining. The last place this case had seen was the inside of a cargo hold as he flew back from Iraq. The luggage carried more than sand. It swelled with memories of dust storms, disabled Humvees, and young men with only three limbs. Blood stained more than his traveling gear. It was forever imprinted on a psyche that was already as fragile as an IED.

Taking time off to travel to Louisiana would be a much-needed escape. It’d give him an excuse to delay the next shoot and not piss off his editor. His adrenaline-pumping brain wanted him to go, go, go, but he was tired. Tired of dead bodies and scars. He flipped his hand over and inspected the mangled skin. This was the result of getting too close to get the shot. The blood running down his cheek hadn’t even dawned on him; he’d focused on the soldier in front of him. The guy was obviously yelling, but Adam couldn’t hear a damn thing. The dust billowed up around them as the soldier motioned for the unit to move back. The bomb ended up taking three soldiers out, leaving him behind. Why? So that he’d have another day to tie a woman up and tell her how much he needed to fuck her until she went limp? No, he was spared so that he could go back. Tell the story in pictures—the ones that glorified the effort and the ones that condemned it.

Another war. Another story. Same trapped feeling of never leaving.

Adam lugged the suitcase into his bedroom and dropped it on the bed. This time he wasn’t packing for the desert. This time he was packing for leisure. The luxury of spending time with the lovely princess. His brother’s Lily Flower. His stomach flipped, making him feel like a sixteen-year-old girl with a crush on the quarterback. Only this was no crush. This was something else altogether. This was a desperate need. Lily had been his lifeline when the nights turned cold and the bunkers were eerily quiet.

The last time he’d come home to his barely used New York apartment, he’d found a letter in the mail slot. It was a letter from Nick. The last one he’d ever receive.

The finality gripped his chest. Nick had written often and Adam enjoyed receiving his letters. They had become his tether to sanity while he was abroad. He especially liked when Nick wrote about his Lily Flower. Somehow Adam felt as if he already knew her. Nick spoke so fondly of her, and yet there was something dark he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Adam assumed Lily and Nick were intimate from the mounds of affection Nick piled on when he’d go on and on about her. The night he’d opened the envelope containing a picture of Nick and Lily sitting on her swing, he about lost it.

Nick was laughing so hard his eyes were wrinkled and squeezed shut. Lily was curled up beside him with her head resting on his shoulder; a mischievous grin tilted her full lips. An easy smile that spoke of a woman who knew a secret but wasn’t about to let anyone else in on the ruse. The picture was a bit worn now. The edges were frayed and a white line creased the center where it’d been folded and refolded every time he’d taken it out of his wallet.

When he’d spotted her at Nick’s wake, he’d known her right away. The picture in his wallet was a tease, a hint of her beautiful body. She had the perfect form he’d always coveted. Round hips, soft stomach, big tits. Yeah, he was a breast man for sure. The one thing he did know how to do was tease the subs’ breasts. Feathers or whips, he had that one down to an art form.

Art form.
His thoughts rolled back to his brother and how they’d competed to earn badges at scout camp. Truth be told, his little brother had started the campfire on his own, but Adam wasn’t about to let his
little
brother take all the credit. He went over to the dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer. The sash was still there—had traveled with him to Bosnia, Kuwait, Pakistan, Iraq, Afghanistan, Russia, China, and Cuba. The green material was stained all over, missing a few badges too. But not that damn fire badge. He’d made sure that one got sewed back on a time or two. By the end of the summer, it was going to have to make yet another trip. Hopefully this would be the last overseas assignment he took for a while. The time to stay stateside was creeping up on him. Had been for several years, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him moving and the jobs coming. This time away would be a perfect refresher before he had to fly out again.

Sometimes, in the ravaged dumps Adam ended up in, there was no phone service, no e-mail connection. Nick’s handwritten words always seemed to reach him just when he was most exhausted or homesick. Stories reminding him that home was real, the people he loved most were safe, and life was moving along while he was stuck in hell.

Nick’s letters talking about his friend-slash-landlady were Adam’s favorite. Days spent painting and eating, swimming and laughing. Adam could’ve leaned down and almost smelled the sunshine on the paper.

Lily was his beacon of hope. She’d been his reason to come home. The elusive flower was what kept him from heading out on another mission to capture the essence of war. His book was going to have to wait. He had a worn body ready for some R & R.

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