Highly Strung (Food Of Love 1) - Page 49

“Nice,” said Natasha sardonically. “I guess you aren’t such a good girl as you think.”

Lydia, her face hidden in Milan’s chest, made no reply, but her body froze in anticipation of further hostilities. The applause of the audience drowned her words, but they were sharp enough for each of the foursome to catch.

“Did you think you were better than me? Is that why you wouldn’t fuck Ross at first? You’re no better than me, sweetie. You’ll take cock from anyone. Tell you what, Ross, let’s invite her round. I’d love to go to town on her with my strap-on.”

“Okay, Tash, leave her alone,” said Milan. “You were confident your first time?”

Ross laughed.

“Are you kidding? She walked out before anything happened.”

Tash huffed and stalked out of the room, clutching her clothes.

Milan clung to Lydia, stroking her hair and kissing her head.

“You were so brave,” he whispered. “You were brilliant. I love you.”

She emerged from her refuge to stare up at him.

“Do you?”

“Of course. You know I do.”

Did she? But before she could pursue the thought, Milan had rolled her over on to her back on the divan, covering her body with kisses, and Ross had joined in.

Kissed and licked into perfect relaxation, she lay there, naked and dreamy, watching Ross and Milan make out, then make love, through a haze of satisfied longing.

She didn’t notice Natasha return to the room until she pulled Ross out from underneath Milan and barked, “We’re leaving.”

Lydia sat up and watched Natasha snatch Ross’ clothes and hurl them across the floor. With one hand covering his recently vacated arsehole, Ross hopped around the room, swearing and plucking at the scattered garments before chasing Natasha out into the lobby.

“Oh, dear,” said Lydia.

Milan’s face reflected his irritation at being interrupted mid-stroke and his cock pointed rebelliously towards the departing figure of Ross.

“Fucking divas,” raged Milan, which s

truck Lydia as a little ironic.

He removed the condom and discarded it then, reaching for a fresh one, appealed to Evgeny.

“Evgeny, help me out here.”

But Evgeny simply stood and walked out after the movie stars.

“I think the party’s over,” said Lydia.

Werner stood and begged his guests not to be put off by this small setback, asking if anybody else wanted to perform.

A gaggle of enthusiastic libertines rose from their seats. It appeared to be Lydia’s cue to get dressed.

She pulled the scrap of gold fabric over her head, relishing the prospect of getting a shower and a good night’s sleep, but Milan, dishevelled and devilish in his crumpled black tie suit had other ideas.

Taking her hand, he led her over to a sofa and sat her down.

“Aren’t you going after Evgeny?” she asked tentatively.

“No. If he wants to sulk, he can sulk. I’m not going to ruin Werner’s evening by running out on him. I want to get another invitation some time. Unfortunately, I don’t think Evgeny’s name will be on it.”

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