"I prefer live entertainment options when I can get them. Sshh." Lyda stroked the side of her face, coiled her fingers in Gen's hair. She kept doing that for a while, until lassitude settled over Gen's limbs and she thought she could stay this way forever.
But at length, the Mistress took off her blindfold. The intensity in Lyda's gaze, the tempting beauty of her mouth, made Gen quake helplessly. And Lyda saw it all. The power of her expression, what Gen was feeling, was too much, such that Gen's gaze lowered before she even realized she'd done it. But the gesture gave her some room to notice other things.
Lyda had her other hand braced on Noah's hip. She hadn't yet removed his blindfold, so the press of his lips, the musculature of his body delineated by the aftermath of his climax, was all Gen's to enjoy without him seeing her stare, giving her a taste of the exclusive pleasure Lyda had enjoyed. His climax had spurted over his sectioned stomach muscles, up to his chest. Despite the depletion of energy that came with her climax, Gen wanted to slide her fingers through it, paint it over his nipples. Taste it, and him.
"He's so beautiful, isn't he?" Lyda ran a hand down his side, over his buttock, back up to his shoulder. "My sweet boy. My gorgeous, lost soul. Wonderful man."
Noah turned his face to the carpet as Lyda slipped the blindfold from him. His eyes stayed closed, his face relaxed, still lost in a haze. Gen understood the feeling. The only thing tugging her toward reality was the trickle of shock at the extraordinary things she'd done tonight. Her languid state kept worry at bay. For now.
"Time for bed, for all of us." Lyda rose, offering Gen a hand. When she hauled her to her feet, she swayed. Lyda slid an arm around her waist, letting her lean.
"I..."
"Sssh. Let it all go for tonight. You did beautifully."
Relief filled her. Yet following, allowing things to happen, wasn't what she did. She never trusted anyone else in that way, but Lyda simply took control and Gen let her. Lyda was right. She didn't have the brain power to interpret that, think about it now.
As Lyda held her in one arm, she prodded Noah with her foot, a gentle tease. "On your feet, you worthless male animal."
Noah cracked an eyelid, but agreeably complied, pushing himself up onto his hip and getting his feet underneath him. When Lyda reached down to him, Gen automatically did the same. Noah paused, as if he might wave off the help, but in the end, he clasped their hands, though he used his own strength to pull himself up, tightening his grip on their fingers as a sign of connection. Despite that, Lyda watched him with her sharp eyes to ensure he had his balance before releasing him.
Gen thought she could have walked on her own as well, but having Lyda's body pressed against her side wasn't something she'd deny herself. She hadn't tied the robe, completely comfortable with exposing her breasts, the slope of her abdomen and the shaved point of her sex, her long,
toned legs. Gen had tasted those breasts, that sex. She wanted to taste her everywhere, wanted to taste Noah's flesh. Though it was a low-level hum beneath the emotional and physical exhaustion from the big events of the day, it was a tone that was steady and true. A promise that she'd want more than one night of this.
Lyda took her down the hall and up a set of steep, narrow stairs smelling of old wood. Noah followed close behind them. Gen had the impression of more interesting artwork along the way. No photographs, except for a couple art pieces, not family photos. At the top of the stairs, they turned right, passing a guestroom, a bathroom, and then they were at the master bedroom.
Lyda had a tester bed with thick pillars and a carved wooden overhang. It looked like an antique, but some unusual customization had been done beneath it. Something startling enough to break Gen out of her post-coital trance. She balked, uncertain. Lyda's grip tightened on her.
"It's all right, Gen. Trust me."
Tester beds sat high enough off the floor that there were usually steps to allow shorter people easier access to the mattress. Gen remembered Chloe talking about them once, suggesting they'd been designed by adults who missed childhood bunk beds.
Nothing childish about what had been built beneath this one. A cage, as long and wide as the mattress, sturdy enough to also serve as the frame of the bed. The six-inch spaced bars looked like steel. A twin mattress inside the cage ran parallel with the long side of the bed. It was a freaking cage.
"I don't want to do that."
"It's not intended for you." Lyda said it calmly enough to soothe Gen's nerves. Until she realized the implication.
When Lyda pointed to the enclosure, Noah knelt and rolled gracefully into it. He stretched out on his stomach, bending one leg up and shifting his hips in a way that had his ass flexing as he adjusted to his preferred sleeping position on the mattress. Given that he was entirely naked and seemed to want to sleep on top of the covers, he looked like a Playgirl centerfold. She wasn't sure Playgirl got into bondage, though. She was trying to stay appalled, but when his heavy-lidded brown eyes slid over her with lazy erotic pleasure, she remembered comparing him to a sleepy wolf.
Letting go of Gen, Lyda leaned over to close the cage door. Gen noticed the latch had a padlock eye, but it didn't contain a padlock. Noah could get out on his own if needed, which made her feel somewhat better. Reaching through the bars, Lyda tousled Noah's long hair. His eyes were already closed again, and when he grunted at the attention, she snorted. "Typical post-orgasmic male. Useless."
She said it fondly, rising to face Gen. Pressing her fingers to her own lips, Lyda laid the transposed kiss on Gen's forehead. "Bathroom's down the hall. I have a guest bedroom next to it, or you can come back to bed with me."
Giving her a direct look, Lyda dropped the robe. As she stepped onto the short set of steps that led up to the bed, Gen noticed Noah's eyes opened again. He took his fill of his Mistress naked, and once she'd ascended to the bed, he slid a hand out between the bars to snag the robe. He reeled it in until he had it in a silken puddle by his pillow, close enough he could dream with her scent in his nose.
"You get any drool or other disgusting male fluids on that, I will cut off your balls with my pruning shears."
He let out a snuffled sound that could have been a chuckle.
Lyda stretched out her lithe body to turn off the bed lamp. A nightlight, shaped like a porcelain orchid, glowed by the antique dresser. Then she turned on her side, facing away from Gen. The cover was off her bare shoulder, her hair loose along the pillow.
Gen found herself several steps closer to the bed, but she wasn't sure of her intent. Her gaze went between the woman on the bed and the man beneath it. If Lyda extended her hand over edge of the mattress, Noah could reach through the bars and clasp her slim fingers, if she so desired. The appeal of that thought disturbed Gen. Then she felt Noah's fingers slide over her foot, take a loose grip on her ankle, stroke. Soothing.
"Why a cage?" she asked softly.
"Because it underscores that he's in my care," Lyda answered for him. "That he can trust my ownership, whether it's simply for a night or for a longer period. And because it fucking turns me on to see my sub locked up that way."