Page 46 of A Taste for the Peculiar

Cascade hums.

Pye laughs so deliciously that Avirin wants to tear off his clothes and fuck him right in this chair. In retaliation, she rocks her hips, delighting in the hard length that stirs against her. He smirks against her neck. “My, what spirit you’ve found!”

“They’re keeping you celibate?” Cascade clicks her tongue. “What are you running here, Riften, a cider mill or a nunnery?”

Pye taps gently on Avirin’s hips to encourage her to move again. She does as she’s bid, swirling in search of every labored breath Pye takes. His mouth moves against her pulse. “You’re not going to tell them why?”

Avirin has no doubt Pye has already described their “situation” in his letter, but why should she let him off so easily? Taunting each other is the nearest they can get to indulging, and Avirin intends to tease until neither of them can stand it. Her lips turn down in a pout. “He riles me on purpose. He comes back from the orchard glistening with sweat. He walks the house in stockings and nothing else.”

From the giggle Selbie hides behind her hand, it’s clear neither she nor Cascade believe it, but they play along all the same. “Oh, my.” Cascade takes one last puff of her cigar before she sets it aside. “How fortunate I arrived when I did.”

“If he refuses to satisfy you…” Selbie rises from her seat with playful admonishment toward Pye. “Then it’s only right that someone else take up the mantle.” She extends both her hands toward Avirin. “Here, sweetness. We’ll free you from the shackles this cruel lord has imposed upon you.”

Avirin winds deeply back against Pye before she stands, and Selbie guides her to the loveseat between her and Cascade. The two women fuss and fawn over her plight until their touches become more intentional. It happens so naturally that Avirin doesn’t realize what’s changed until the soothing hands on her back become firm around her jaw. Until the chaste kisses on her cheek become lingering ones at the corner of her mouth. Until the cooed words of comfort become low sounds of encouragement.

It stokes the steadily-growing fire in her stomach, and her mouth falls open when Selbie eases a hand beneath her dress. “Come now,” Selbie whispers. “Let me relieve your burden.”

Her lips are a breath away from Avirin’s, and Avirin’s eyelids grow heavier by the second. The closer Selbie’s fingers move toward her core, the closer Avirin’s mouth drifts toward hers, their breaths caught between them until Selbie reaches the apex of Avirin’s thighs.

When she gasps, Selbie matches her, lips parted against each other’s as Selbie circles Avirin’s clit through her shift. There’s something so enticing about the layers they still wear, but none of it is enough to hide Avirin’s desire. It soaks through, wetting Selbie’s fingers as she brushes their noses together. “Gods,” Selbie breathes, “he turned this away?”

Then Selbie sinks to the floor and pushes Avirin’s skirts up to her hips. It exposes her garters and stockings, leaving a draft on her bare sex mixed with the heat from everyone’s eyes. Selbie hums appreciatively, and Cascade leans back to watch. Pye tips the cider glass to their lips and never looks away from Avirin.

Selbie presses her mouth between Avirin’s legs, making her gasp and arch. Her pupils threaten to expand, but she holds them back, trying to keep focus. Cascade twirls one of Avirin’s curls around her finger. “You have been left in need, haven’t you?”

Selbie’s tongue rolls against Avirin’s clit and presses into her with a lascivious sound. She pulls back only enough to speak against Avirin’s folds. “Perhaps I should have given you a proper welcome to the cottage.” Her lips brush Avirin’s clit. “I should have snuck into your bed and laid under your covers until you retired. I would have licked you from sunrise to sunset.” With two fingers, she parts Avirin’s cunt and drags the flat of her tongue against her. “I wouldn’t let perfectly good pussy go to waste.”

“It’s true.” Cascade rests her arm on the back of the loveseat to brush Avirin’s hair behind her ear. “She can go for hours. You’d have to beg her to stop.”

Avirin whimpers, and Cascade soothes her sounds with a kiss. She tastes as rich as syrup, her movements smooth and decisive, opening Avirin up until she’s breathless.

Cascade trails her tongue against Avirin’s swollen bottom lip. “Do you like the way she eats your cunt?” When Avirin nods, Cascade tilts Avirin’s chin to look at Selbie. “Tell her. Tell her how much you like it.”

Avirin’s head swims. Selbie’s mouth is wet and messy, her cheeks glistening while she works, her eyes honed on Avirin’s.

Avirin pants. “I like — the way you —”

Innocently, Selbie’s eyes widen, but she suctions her lips around Avirin’s clit, tongue fluttering until Avirin loses her thoughts.

“Poor thing,” Cascade clucks before she, too, sinks to the ground between Avirin’s legs.

Both women press Avirin’s legs open, keeping her pinned and spread while they lick and suck and kiss her. Their tongues swirl and tangle together, smearing over Avirin’s pussy, their moans vibrating through her body.

Pye watches it all. His expression never changes, reclined and relaxed, so in control that Avirin would almost believe he was unaffected — if not for the fire blazing in his eyes.

It fans the flame inside her. Everything he does provokes her, inspires her, refuses to allow her to remain where she is. He fills her mind with possibilities, calling to her like a faerie ring in the forest.

What if?

She wants to move him just as profoundly. She wants to break him. She wants to sabotage his control so that he can’t resist her, so that he no longer cares for doing what is “right.”

She pulls Cascade and Selbie up to meet her. They both kiss her hungrily, the three of their mouths smeared with the taste of her. Avirin inhales slowly, and blue smoke spills from both them into her.

It’s heady and intoxicating. Avirin had forgotten what it feels like to have her thirst quenched and filled to the brim. She drinks and drinks until Cascade eases her back against the loveseat.

Avirin takes labored breaths and pats her hair to assure herself that no horns have sprouted. Cascade and Selbie run their hands over her breasts, down her stomach, around the curve of her hips. “Look at you.”

Avirin can imagine the disaster she is: hair mussed, dress wrinkled, cheeks red and puffy. But her senses are sharper, her skin brighter, her body nourished. She is more powerful. She can handle more.