A Lesson in Thorns (Thornchapel #1)(86)
What’s the point of searching for the divine if that’s not true once you find it?
There is one extra complication, however, beyond blowing up essentialism and binaries, and that’s the very nature of Delphine herself, her burgeoning identity as a sexual and kinky person. She’s a submissive and she’s supposed to take charge right now, and I can tell she’s worried. I can tell she’s not sure where to begin.
I rise up to my elbows to help, suddenly very aware of everyone around us. Auden’s on my left, reclining on an elbow like a Roman emperor watching a bacchanal, his eyes raking over my naked body and Delphine’s naked body, one hand flexing and relaxing as if itching to touch us. His other hand is predictably in his thick, beautiful hair, twisting it in a slow anguish. He’s wearing one of his Brideshead Revisited outfits, wool trousers and a tweed jacket layered over a sweater and button-down, and there’s no mistaking the big erection pushing against his pants. I wonder if he’s ever seen Delphine naked; I wonder if he still wants to have sex with her; I wonder if I should be jealous.
I wonder if it’s strange that jealousy is such a fucking turn-on.
Saint’s on the other side of me, kneeling like he’s at Mass, his glittering eyes and glinting lip ring flashing with light from the fire, and he has his eyes on me, only on me, while Becket sits at my feet, his eyes on everyone, eyes so blue that even the flames can’t change their color.
And Rebecca is settling next to Delphine. She’s graceful and assured as she uncuffs and rolls up the sleeves of her nearly sheer white silk blouse. She discarded her coat a few moments earlier, and her boots, but there’s still something so effortlessly dominant about her, even in bare feet and riding pants and an untucked blouse. The fire gilds her cheekbones and the sharp point of her chin, and that same burnish highlights the delicately fluted line of her collarbone.
“I have this, Proserpina,” she says, noticing me sitting up to help Delphine.
She tosses her braids over her silk-clad shoulder in an audible waterfall, and she puts the back of one slender hand on Delphine’s cheek. “The Consecration is quiet about what happens here, and so I think given the circumstances, we can be inventive. I’m going to guide you.” She turns her hand to cup the side of Delphine’s heart-shaped face. “Tell me if you don’t want that.”
Delphine nods, her full mouth parted. “I want it.”
“Good girl,” Rebecca says quietly, and the change in Delphine is immediate, a glowing happiness suffusing her entire body. Rebecca smiles at that, but her smile looks troubled, the smile of someone who’s just now realizing they might be in danger and they’re not sure how to escape. But it’s gone before I can analyze it any further, and Rebecca is all calm, teacherly Domme again.
She uses her hand to slide the thick hair off the back of Delphine’s neck, and then Rebecca begins running a slow, soothing hand from the nape of Delphine’s neck down to the small of her back, whispered touches of reassurance all along the valley of Delphine’s spine.
“Proserpina is already having fun,” Rebecca says to Delphine, and then she asks me, “Aren’t you, Proserpina?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Show us,” Rebecca commands, and next to me, Auden makes a noise at how quickly I obey. At how I obey, which is by letting my knees fall open to expose my wet, swollen cunt.
“Fuck,” Saint says on a guttural moan from the other side of me.
“See?” Rebecca tells Delphine. “See how wet she is already? Can you see how red and flushed her cunt is? That means it wants you. It wants you to kiss and rub it. And do you see this?”
She takes Delphine’s hand and guides it right to the plump berry of my erect clit, strumming their fingers across it, and sweet, needy pleasure sings up my body.
“Oh God,” I pant, trying to squirm back toward their touch for more.
Rebecca laughs a little. “I think Proserpina might be a little slut, Delphine. Which means she’s our little slut tonight. Our little virgin saint-slut. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
Next to me, Auden drops his head back in unadulterated agony. I manage to look away from the tormentors between my legs to see the strong column of his throat working in long, tortured swallows.
“It does sound fun,” Delphine says, sounding braver and happier again.
“You know what little sluts love best? Other than being fucked, of course?”
Delphine shakes her head.
“They love hearing all the ways you’re going to fuck them. Put your hands on her thighs and push them farther apart; there you go, sweetheart, that’s lovely, just lovely.” Rebecca puts her hand on the back of Delphine’s neck, not gripping hard, but holding her with just enough pressure that Delphine will still feel kept and guided as we move forward.
I’m spread even farther now, the chilly breeze fighting with warm drafts from the fire and sending hot and cold air dancing over the slick split of my pussy and over the stiffened tips of my breasts. Delphine’s hands are warm on my thighs, if tentative, and I watch as Rebecca instructs her to examine my pussy as if deciding whether or not to use it.
“See how silky those curls are?” Rebecca asks. “See how those little petals in the middle are unfurled?”
“Yes,” Delphine whispers. “Yes.”
“Your mouth is going to be there, right?”