Flood Tide

Flood Tide
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ISBN:  9781780801728
Author:  Carol Anderson
Word Count:  78,997
Format:  eBook



A Private AffairA Private Affair
A Private EducationA Private Education
A Private PerformanceA Private Performance

Her eyes were heavy with desire as she let the towel fall slowly to the floor. This time Daniel didn't hesitate. He crossed the room in two strides and then his hands were on her naked body. His halo of blond curls gave him the look of an avenging angel. As his lips closed on hers, Rachel knew she was losing control...

Free at last from a mis-matched marriage, Rachel Ingram makes her home by the sea in the country house she adores. At last she has the time and money to live a life that fulfils all her needs. And, despite the disapproval of her friends and the social restrictions of the 1920s, what she needs is the sensual bliss she finds in the arms of a golden youth fourteen years her junior.

But the world will not leave her alone to enjoy her affair with Daniel. The aura of sensuality that surrounds her attracts others whose erotic intentions are not so innocent...

Onboard his boat, Julian poured Rachel another glass of champagne and slid his arm around her waist.
   'Relax,' he said softly. 'Another half an hour or so and we'll be moored up on the sandbar. Have you ever been there? It's just like a desert island. I used to go out there as a child when I stayed with my great-uncle. Pine trees, a golden sandy beach...' he stopped. 'What on earth is the matter? You look quite pale.'
   Rachel stared up at him. The atmosphere on deck was tight with expectation. The other people on the deck seemed unnaturally close as if they all shared some strange erotically charged secret. Rachel was so uneasy that she felt physically sick.
   'Julian, what is going on? This isn't just a day trip, is it? We both saw Izzy and that man downstairs in the galley. I thought you and I had agreed that we could begin again.'
   Julian smiled. 'We can, we can, it's just that I thought you might enjoy a little diversion from all that earnest morality.'
   He tipped her face up towards him and kissed her gently. 'Nothing is going to happen that you don't want, I promise you. We're just going to have a little fun, that's all.'
   Rachel stared out over the sea; the harbour was just a distant white shape, a flash of brilliance amongst the green and golden coastline. Along the shore a little way she could make out Albion, standing sentinel at the head of one of the channels, looking like a beached schooner amongst the rolling dunes. Ahead of them was the curved shelf of sand that the locals called the sandbar. It was a small, horseshoe-shaped island with a shallow sandy bay in the mouth of the U. The draft in the bay was so shallow that the boat would have to sail out around the back of the hook to make a landing, to be sure they didn't run aground. At very low tide it was possible to walk across to the island from the mainland, but the tides were so treacherous and came in so fast that the unwary could easily find themselves cut off. The centre of the island was dominated by a straggle of pine trees.
   Julian piloted the little boat the last few hundred yards towards a makeshift dock. As one of the crew jumped ashore to secure the bow line, Rachel felt as if she was being crushed under some unseen possibility. When the boat was made fast every one of the passengers - ten or twelve in all - started to ramble ashore, each carrying rugs and picnic baskets. They struck out over the sand towards the pines. The view from the top of the sandbar was quite spectacular but Rachel barely noticed it. Something was about to happen, she could sense it.
   Julian took her arm. 'Come along,' he said cheerfully, 'don't dawdle.'
   When everyone was in the shade, Julian took out his watch and said with a grin, 'Right, ladies, you have ten minutes to get away - after that you are all fair game.'
   Rachel stared at him, while around her the other women, with whoops of delight slipped off their shoes and ran helter-skelter towards the cover of the dunes and deeper into the pine trees.
   'Julian?' Rachel said, wanting some sort of explanation.
   He shrugged philosophically. 'Don't look so disapproving. You don't have to play if you don't want too,' he said with a grin. 'It's up to you.'
   The other men were spreading rugs on the sand and unfurling parasols, but their activity could not disguise the tense longing in the air - they were keen to be off. Rachel stared into the trees, her stomach quivering. As the seconds passed she felt the adrenaline beginning to build. A cold tingle rose and fell in her spine. The young men began to pace, counting the seconds until they could begin their pursuit - and then suddenly, without thinking, Rachel knew she couldn't stay with them any longer. She kicked off her sandals and ran into the trees as if the devil himself was behind her.
   Even as she did it she knew it was a mistake for by running she had consented to play Julian's game. It was madness but she couldn't stop herself. Running away, and the growing sense of fear, seemed instinctive. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she ran left and right and between the wind-contorted trees. Here and there she saw flashes of colour as the girls ahead of her broke up and scattered for cover like a flurry of bright leaves. If she ran too far she would emerge on the far side of the pines and be easy prey.
   Behind her she heard a wild banshee shriek and knew that the men were now in pursuit. Gasping for breath she tumbled down into a sandy hollow, completely enclosed by a ring of trees and a jumble of broken branches and crouched down low, praying that the men would run straight passed her. Her heart beat out a frantic tattoo against her ribs, which sounded so loud that she wondered if it might give her away. Covering her head with her hands she waited - and waited.
   'So there you are,' said a voice above her. 'You're Julian's new friend, aren't you? Rachel, isn't it? Don't try and run away, I can see you. You'd better come out or I'll come down there to get you.'
   Rachel glanced up into the eyes of one of her fellow passengers. He was a tall, thin man in his late thirties, with sandy red hair. His eyes were alight with lust and desire and she realised with a growing sense of panic she had no idea what his name was, which seemed a ridiculous thing to think of. She got to her feet slowly and began to back away as he clambered down the bank towards her.
   He was eight or ten feet away from her when she suddenly turned and made a break for it. As she did she saw to her total horror that there was another man behind her - Paul Thursford, who she had seen earlier in the galley with Izzy. He must have been creeping up on her when the first man had been speaking. He lunged forward and grabbed her arms, spinning her round to face the man who had spotted her.
   She began to fight them in earnest, as if her life depended on it, aware at the same time that her struggles seemed to have ignited a deep excitement low in her belly, something as feral and ancient as the chase. The ginger man caught hold of her legs and lifted them off the ground. Between them they manhandled her down onto the sand.
   Paul Thursford, breathing hard, snorted. 'Looks like we've got a lively one here, Perry. Will you do the honours first or will I?'
   Perry wiped his hand across his mouth. 'How about we both mount her?'
   Rachel stiffened. 'What?' she gasped in horror.
   Perry grinned down at her. 'We caught you, now we can do exactly what we like with you. Those are the rules. Unless of course you object, in which case...' he shrugged and then grinned at Paul. 'Not that we've ever had any complaints before.'
   Rachel was so stunned she couldn't find her voice. With rough hands they turned her over onto her belly and then pulled her up onto all fours. Behind her, Paul Thursford ran his hand up between her thighs and slid down her knickers.
   'Nice catch, Perry,' he murmured appreciatively.
   She knew she was already excited and gasped with a mixture of shame and embarrassment as he slipped a finger inside and then grunted with delight.
   Perry meanwhile undid the front of her dress, and slid a hand under her camisole, cupping her breasts, gently rolling the stiff little peaks between his thumb and forefinger. Rachel closed her eyes and shivered - she had seen his other hand working at the buttons of his flies and guessed what was to follow.
   Behind her, Paul Thursford pushed his fingers forward to stroke her clitoris, and as he did so, guided his cock between her thighs. He snorted with pleasure as he found his mark. Rachel was stunned. Her whole body was trembling and hot - she could hardly believe what was happening. Something warm brushed her cheek and without thinking she opened her mouth to take Perry's cock between her lips. He moaned softly and renewed his attentions to her throbbing breasts.
   Amongst the trees above them, Julian Morton looked on with a mixture of amusement and pleasure. His demure friend crouched between the two men, her hands working in harmony with her mouth along the shaft and balls of Perry Comerford, while her hips thrust back frantically to drive Paul Thursford deeper inside her. Between them they had undone her top and pulled off her camisole so that her breasts swayed and trembled like liquid silk. One man's hand slipped back to catch hold of them, another drove his fingers deep between her thighs. Rachel was gasping and moaning with sheer pleasure - as were both the men. It seemed to Julian that he had a convert on his hands.
   After a few seconds they found their rhythm, as compulsive as a heartbeat and so smooth that it might have been choreographed. The two men, eyes locked on each other's faces, guided Rachel back and forth. Julian smiled; at that moment Rachel seemed to be lost in their passion, an exquisite body to be used and enjoyed. He suspected it was a role she was used to.
   Peter renewed his attentions to her sex and suddenly, unexpectedly, Rachel arched up like a taut bow as the first intense waves of orgasm struck, taking both men out over the brink of pleasure. Paul snorted and pulled her back onto him, driving his hips forward like a battering ram. Rachel's cries of delight were stifled by the thrusting gushing stroke of Perry's cock and then - very suddenly - there was stillness. Perry slipped out of her mouth, Paul from her sex and then they got to their feet as a man.
   'Are you set to bag another?' said Perry, bent over with hands on his knees.
   Paul snorted, struggling to get his breath. 'You bet. Might want another little snort of champagne first though.'
   Still huddled on the sand between them Rachel lay as if unconscious, half turned on her back, her breasts exposed, chest heaving as she caught her breath. Julian slid down the bank towards the men, who lifted their hands in greeting as they began the climb back to the picnic.
   Julian crouched down beside Rachel, relishing her nakedness and the subdued, exhausted expression on her face. He sat for a few seconds and then very gently opened her legs. She looked up as if she was having trouble focusing. Without a word he leant forward and ran his tongue over the folds of her exhausted, dripping sex. He could still detect the compelling hum of her orgasm deep inside her, a soft resonant glow that excited him...

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