Page 27 of The Awakening of Ivy Leavold
“Our rules, sweetie,” Molly said from nearby. “Every wrong guess costs you one article of clothing. And the dress counts as one.”
Hooks were unfastened, bustles unhooked, and suddenly the dress was pulled up above my head and cast aside. I now wore only my corset and petticoats with a very low-cut and thin chemise underneath them. I shivered—partly from the feeling of air brushing against my shoulders but also from a feeling of excitement. The knot in my belly tied itself anew, tightening itself at the unexpected thrill of being exposed before so many, and at Mr. Markham’s behest.
I caught another woman next, and this one did kiss me, parting my lips with her soft ones. She pressed her body against mine, and even through my corset and her clothes, I could feel her curves.
“Ettie,” I said confidently.
“Hmph,” she said, pulling away. Another point for me. And so it went for two more turns, until I came upon a man. Not Mr. Markham—I would know him blindfolded, deafened, and deprived of touch. This man was slightly taller. And rather than kiss me, he took my hand and brought it to the front of his breeches.
“How am I supposed to tell from this?” I said, a little bit indignantly and to the great mirth of the onlookers. “Owen?” I guessed.
“Silas,” he replied and then my hand was inside his breeches and he curled my fingers around his quickly stiffening cock. “Maybe before I leave, I can make the memory of this so indelible that you’ll never lose a game again.”
I withdrew my hand, feeling Mr. Markham’s gaze even while blindfolded, and Silas clucked in disappointment. “What shall she have off then?”
“The petticoats!” the others cried.
“Just one,” I said, “just one!”
But all three came off. “They really work together as one unit,” Silas explained. He was the one who reached his arms around my waist to untie them and pull them down over my hips. I was now only in my stockings, corset and chemise, which came down to the middle of my thighs.
“I do feel less impeded now,” I said to the general amusement of the room, and I found myself much less self-conscious than I would have imagined, being so exposed. It must have been the wine.
The next person I caught was Molly—I knew it by her slender figure and the familiar way she nipped at my neck. But after that, I mistook Adella for Helene, and lost my corset. Adella herself unlaced it, quickly and deftly, and I felt my breasts released as she pulled it off me. They felt swollen, ripe, and the sensation of the now-loose chemise brushing against my nipples was enough to make me shudder.
“Oh!” Adella exclaimed, pulling up the chemise to expose my backside. “Regardez-vous,” she ordered the others. “Très délicieux.”
She ran a finger up my thigh and I jumped, moving away from her. “Now, now,” Silas reproved. “You’ll frighten our little deer.”
I had no sense of distance without my vision, but I moved fairly quickly away from Adella and ran right into someone tall and lean, someone who steadied me with calloused fingers on my arms. This time, I initiated a kiss, knowing it was Mr. Markham, and wanting nothing more than to press my body against his and feel his skin against mine.
“I know you,” I breathed against him.
“Well, by all means, hide it from the others and guess incorrectly.” His hands slid down my hips. “It’s time for this to come off.” He rucked up the chemise.
“Not a chance,” I said. “I intend to win. I’ve caught you.”
“I think you’ll find, wildcat, that I’ve caught you.” And then he tugged the chemise up and over, sliding it off me with an ease that suggested practice with a lady’s underthings. I was now naked, save for the stockings, blindfolded and completely helpless. I should have felt embarrassed or frightened, I should have wanted to dart away. But I didn’t.
I did reach up for the blindfold, thinking that the game must be finished now, but Mr. Markham caught my hands and stopped me. “Not yet,” he murmured.
He kissed my bare neck, letting his mouth graze over my collarbone and over to my shoulder. I shivered. And then I felt warm hands on my back—more than two.
Then there were lips on my back, along my calves and on the outside of my thighs. Mr. Markham guided me back until I was on the plush rug by the fire. The blindfold made every sensation seem magnified, sharper, and I could feel the heat of the flames on one side of me, and the cool rug beneath me, feel the fingertips that began to trail along my arms and legs. There were too many to tell which belonged to whom, and I could feel the rougher skin of the men alongside the soft hands of the women.
And then Mr. Markham was kissing me again, his mouth claiming mine. He was braced on his arms above me, his jacket hanging down and brushing against the sensitive skin of my nipples. I arched my back, and he moved down, his lips searing a path from my breasts to my navel. My legs parted instinctively as he kissed down to the swell of my pubic bone, and an unfamiliar hand brushed over my breast, squeezing it, rolling my nipple between slender, deft fingers, making me whimper.
Mr. Markham opened his mouth, his tongue hot and lashing, and then there were more hands and lips—kissing my neck, stroking my hair. I gasped as someone took my nipple into their mouth, sucking hard, and Julian continued to pass his tongue over the same spot, and then he slid his finger inside of me, and I wished it was more, I wished it was so much more, but at the same time, it was all too much, the hands and the mouths and crashing tide inside of me.
“Look,” I heard Molly say, “she’s about to come.”
A finger followed the heat as it spread up my body, up to my stomach and into my chest, and then two hands clamped down on my hips to keep them from bucking.
“Oh,” I breathed. “Oh.”
“She’s such a pretty pet when she’s writhing,” Molly said. “Aren’t you ready to have her underneath you, Julian?”
“Don’t tempt me,” he said roughly, the breath from his words blowing against my wet center, and then he slid another finger inside of me. I tried to buck harder, and then his mouth was on me again, and then I crashed, tremors roiling through me, my back arching so far off the floor that I could feel the air flowing underneath it. The waves slowed and settled, leaving me limp and warm-feeling.
