Master of the House - Page 64

‘Besides,’ I said softly, once I could fill my lungs again, ‘I have another idea for tonight.’

‘Back to bed?’ he said greedily, but I shook my head.

‘Do you know about the little gap in the wall, up at the top of the woods?’

‘Radley used to pester me about it before I had to let him go. Could never afford to sort it out. Why?’

‘I want to go and spy on your visitors.’

‘Lu, no.’ Joss’s head shake was vigorous and resolute. ‘If they see us …’

‘They won’t. I spied on you dozens of times. You never saw me. And that was in broad daylight. There’s a vantage point, thick in the trees.’

‘If you see him you’ll fuck off up to London with your scoop and I won’t see you for dust.’ Ah, here were the real grounds for his objection.

‘You think I’m using you, don’t you? Sweetening you up so I’ll get what I want before you’re ready. Jesus, Joss. Why did you ask me to move in if that’s what you think of me?’

‘Because I want you so much,’ he said, and the note of helpless bewilderment in his voice touched me. ‘I don’t even care if you kick me to the kerb once you’ve got what you want from me. If it means I get you for a few months, weeks, days …’

‘You get me for as long as I’m happy to be got,’ I assured him. ‘I’ve never stopped loving you. You’re the only man I’ve felt this way about. I want to spend time with you and I want to do every depraved thing you can think of with you, and I want to help you. I promise. I won’t desert you if I find out who he is.’

‘I’ll get you electronically tagged,’ he said, only half-joking. ‘You needn’t think you’ll get away from me.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘All right then. Let’s go.’

Chapter Twelve

It was a quiet, moonlit night. At Joss’s insistence I’d left my mobile phone in the caravan, so there was no chance of a quick pre-scoop snap or two. He walked ahead of me, holding my hand tightly as if he thought I might make a break for it.

‘Which way now?’ he whispered at a fork in the path.

‘Right.’

Within a few yards, we were at the little slope, fronted by foliage, from which the whole of the back garden and rear of the house could be viewed. Many times I had stood here watching Joss look for me in one of our savage games of hide and seek. I was always the hider, he the seeker. If he found me, there would be pain and tears. He had never found me here.

I stood, looking over the darkened lawns. He was behind me, his hands on my upper arms, chin resting on my shoulder.

‘I don’t think they’re coming out to play tonight,’ he said.

We could see lights on, in the east wing only. People were there. It was an eerie kind of knowledge.

‘It’s a warm night,’ I said. ‘They might still.’

Joss reached around so his hands were clasped on my stomach. He began to kiss my earlobe and the tender skin beneath it, rubbing his face against mine. I shut my eyes and let the sensations couple with the loamy, woody smell of our surroundings. An owl hooted somewhere close by. Joss’s body felt warm and strong, enveloping mine. I wanted him, even though we had gone back to bed after our momentous conversation of earlier and worn each other to scraps.

Our breath was heavy, and some of our clothing lifted to allow access for wandering hands, when the sound of a voice calling not far distant put an end to our petting.

There were figures on the lawn, carrying lamps, which they set in a wide circle. Twelve people in all – quite a gathering. The interesting thing was that quite a few of them were naked, or nearly-naked. They weren’t close enough for features to be made out and, besides, the ones wearing clothes also wore full face masks with large eyeholes, which Joss seemed to find a relief. The naked ones wore blindfolds. Once the circle of light was made, one naked woman was brought into the centre of it by two clothed people and forced to her knees.

She put her hands on her head and knelt there, in a position familiar to me from my exercises, while the others walked around the circle.

It appeared to be some kind of game. The promenaders came to a halt at somebody’s command, and the person closest to a large stake set in the circumference of their route moved towards the kneeling woman.

I watched, half-appalled and half-intrigued, as the man lowered his leather trousers and fed his semi-hard prick into the kneeling woman’s mouth. She took it in and sucked it until it was rigid, at which point the man moved behind her, pulled her to her feet, ordered her to bend over and fucked her.

The others in the circle clapped in rhythm and shouted encouragement while the man, his hands on the woman’s shoulders, pounded her hard. She staggered forwards and fell on to her knees, but he didn’t get off her. Only when he had come did he disengage.

Tags: Justine Elyot Erotic
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