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Noah gave that half chuckle, an amused sound of agreement. Gen turned her gaze down to him. "What does it do for...you?"
He tilted his head up, meeting her gaze with those distracting brown eyes. "Come inside and find out," he said simply.
Instead she slid her foot from his grasp and retreated, mumbling something about the bathroom.
Lyda had an appreciation for top-of-the-line fixtures. Gen had briefly glimpsed the master bath, and seen a shower with multiple sprayers and corner benches, the area large enough to double as a steam room. There was a smaller version of that in the guest bath. The walls and tile were white, but she'd highlighted the blank canvas with a spray of purple and yellow flowers over the commode. Along the side of the wide mirror, she had a trio of colorful, whimsical watercolors of mermaids.
Gen studied the pictures. Lyda's reserved humor came in sporadic flashes, but like the touches of color in this room, that gave it more of an impact.
Gen pulled a makeup wipe from the beauty products in a sample basket on the counter. Worrying about being seen without makeup seemed pointless after how vulnerable she'd made herself tonight. Lyda had come out of the bedroom to do her "reading" without makeup, dressed for bed, but of course with or without makeup, she was striking. The force of her personality overrode any embellishment.
Gen cupped her hands over her face. She inhaled Lyda's damp pussy, the fragrance lingering in her nose, on her lips, her cheeks. She was reluctant to wash it away, but she did.
Leaving the bathroom, she found the guest bedroom. The white spread had fine needlepoint depicting sprays of greenery. Well-tended house plants clustered in the corner, next to a rocker with a stuffed white bear in it. The bear was new enough to suggest it wasn't a cherished childhood memento, so she wondered how Lyda had acquired it and why she kept it, though it added a further touch of comfort to an already welcoming room. Lyda had said she could stay in here.
Or she could get her clothes, find her keys, leave. They wouldn't stop her.
Instead, she wandered down the hall, closer to the main bedroom, though she paused at Lyda's home office. A laptop on the desk, a printer and router, the usual things. There was also a TV in there, a shelf of books and a portable heater for winter, a necessity in a drafty older house to cut down on heating bills. Though it had looked as if Lyda had a main office out by the greenhouse, Gen knew running one's own business successfully was more than a nine-to-five endeavor, something she appreciated even more now that M had increased Gen's involvement in the running of Tea Leaves.
She was back at the entrance to the master bedroom. The mistress bedroom. A weak joke, underscoring her anxiety. The nightlight showed Noah sprawled on his stomach, pillow bunched under the curl of his arms, Lyda's robe a neat swirl under his elbow.
His breath seemed even. She couldn't tell if Lyda slept, but as Gen circled to the other side of the bed, she hesitated. She'd been invited earlier, but it felt wrong to simply slip in the bed with Lyda, now that her eyes were closed. She shouldn't be intimidated by her. She was just a woman, like Gen, or Chloe...
No, she wasn't like them. She was like Marguerite, a different classification. Something inside Gen recognized it and responded accordingly. That would bear some thinking about. She really should go home.
"Are you sleeping in that dress?"
Lyda's eyes were half-slits, studying her. Sliding her hand toward Gen, she hooked the covers, flipped them back. "Take it all off, rabbit. Come to bed."
Gen turned to the closet. She slipped the dress off, hesitating when she saw her thong panties hanging over the knob. Lyda must have been carrying them in her robe pocket.
Even with a handy vibrator, Gen was usually a one-orgasm-a-week kind of girl. It seemed impossible that thinking of Lyda han
dling her underwear, marked by her arousal, could stir her up again. Lyda was sleepy, though. There wouldn't be anything more happening tonight. Take a breath.
Tucking the thong inside the dress and hooking both on the closet knob, Gen turned back to the bed. She used the steps on that side to crawl onto the mattress, slide under the covers. She hadn't slept with anyone since her second husband. Well, except the night before Chloe's wedding, when Chloe and several of her early female guests had dog-piled onto Gen's bed, talking into the wee hours of the morning. Chloe had eventually fallen asleep there, arm wrapped around Gen as she slept, that fond affection that Chloe did so well. This was very different.
Lyda slid closer, propping herself on her elbow and pushing Gen to her back so she could gaze down at her. Lyda cupped the side of her face, her fingers drifting along Gen's jaw, down her throat, her sternum.
"Ass sore, rabbit?"
"A little."
"I could see the marks I left on it when you undressed. I liked that." Lyda folded back the covers so she could see all of Gen. She watched the Mistress gaze at her body, fingertips trailing Gen's rib cage below her breast, circling over her stomach, teasing her hip bones. She was being explored. Lyda stroked her knuckles over Gen's hip, her upper thigh. When she exerted pressure on it, Gen opened her legs without thought. The approving murmur made Gen tremble. Inside and out.
Lyda didn't touch cunt or nipples, barely grazed Gen's breasts at all. She stroked her arms and upper thighs, inside her thighs, high enough to caress the tender pockets on either side of her pussy. Walking her short-nailed fingers over Gen's mound, Lyda played with her navel.
Then Lyda lowered her head and put her mouth on all those same places.
Gen's breath accelerated, her body moving restlessly. She bit back a moan, not wanting to disturb the hushed charge in the air. Was Noah awake and listening to the shift of the box springs above him, wishing he could be part of this, watch? She bet he was, as much as she wagered that was a vital component of Lyda's pleasure, denying him the view to goad his arousal, while stoking Gen's.
"You thought about going into the cage, didn't you?" A seductive whisper.
"No. Yes...but it's not for me."
"But it's a nice fantasy." Lyda kissed the valley between her breasts. Gen had kept her hands at her sides, thinking Lyda would prefer that, but she couldn't resist sliding her fingers through her hair now. Lyda didn't stop her, and Gen thought nothing had ever felt so lovely as those silken locks sliding over her fingers, over her breasts. "Would you like to know how I imagine it, Gen?"
"Yes." She was whispering too. Lyda discovered more of her with mouth and fingertips, at the leisurely pace of someone getting used to a new treasured toy.
