by Golden Angel
There was no better demonstration of Elijah’s control over her than how he played her body as though it were an instrument and he a concert pianist.
Elijah
The combination of watching Josie’s bottom go from pink to red, hearing her cries, watching her squirm, and seeing her creamy arousal coating her cunt lips and upper thighs, was the ultimate aphrodisiac. Granted, the short rest between the carriage and now, his hand was sufficiently recovered to give her a judicious spanking, covering every inch of her delectable bottom.
The cheeks jiggled, the end of the ginger finger bobbing between them every time she clenched and released. Beneath her pink cheeks, her pussy lips were pink and swollen, begging for attention. Every time his hand crashed down, she gasped and cried, then lifted her hips up, pushing her rear at him, her body begging him for more.
His cock pulsed, insistent in its need to be buried inside her. Elijah paused in the spanking, running his hand over her hot red skin while considering his options.
Her pussy was hot and wet, eager, and waiting for him. The brown ginger peeked from between her bottom cheeks, but it would not stretch her out much. The finger was not so thick to truly loosen her tight entrance.
It was the pants that decided him.
So, she wanted to dress as a man? Then Elijah would roger her like one. A cock in the bottom was a surefire way to bring out a woman’s submissive nature, and it would ensure the next time he and Josie discussed her involvement in dangerous matters, she would remember the consequences of going off on her own.
While Elijah had meant he would listen to and carefully consider her arguments, he was determined she would not have her way all the time. When she did, he wanted to ensure she acted with circumspection.
Another few swats scattered across her bottom left her writhing and crying out. Elijah pulled away to disrobe and smear oil from the bottle over his cock. The thick stalk ached, throbbing against his palm as he prepared to claim his bride’s most forbidden entrance.
Josie
The maelstrom was dragging her under, leaving her spent and breathless against the pillows. She was so far gone, she could not even tell if the spanking hurt anymore. The flames of her arousal licked through her, confusing her senses and leaving her lost in a sea of hot need, pained ecstasy, and throbbing hunger. She was a tightly wound coil, ready to snap, yet unable to reach the final twist that would snap the tension and send her soaring.
It took a long moment for her to realize the spanking had stopped, and only because the bed shifted beneath her, and Elijah was climbing on behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, dazed, and realized he had taken off his clothes. How? When had that happened?
Not that it mattered. All that mattered was the need pulsing inside her, the aching emptiness demanding to be filled.
Fingers probed between her hot cheeks, pulling the ginger out. She would have moaned in relief, but at some point, its presence had ceased to matter. Because it had already spent its full effect? Because the combination of the spanking and the pinch of her nipples between the prongs had overpowered it? There was no way to know.
Dropping her head, Josie pushed her hips up, silently begging Elijah to fill her, to fuck her, to ride her into the hot rapture her body so craved.
Instead, his cock pressed against the space the ginger had just vacated.
Her mind went blank.
Her body froze.
Elijah pushed in, slowly but firmly, stretching her far wider than the ginger.
With a shriek, she tried to dive away from the unnatural invasion, but his hands gripped her hips, holding her in place. She jerked on her bound wrists, wildly trying to pull them free, to no avail. There was nothing she could do—she was bound, bent over, and utterly at his mercy… and he was putting his cock in her arse.
Hot need pulsed wildly, simmering her blood. Josie cried out with despair at her body’s betrayal as Elijah’s slick cock sank deeper inside her rear entrance, stretching her open. The burn was far more acute than the ginger’s sting, a cramping, humbling sensation that affected her more than physically.
“Please… Elijah… it’s too much!” More tears fell from her eyes as he thrust in deeper, filling her in a manner that was painfully intimate.
“Shhh…” His fingers caressed, thumbs stroking the back of her hips soothingly. “You have seen the men at the Society. You chose to dress as one tonight, so you shall be treated as one.”
Josie shuddered. Panted. Clenched. All the while, Elijah’s cock slid deeper inside her forbidden channel. The hole some of the men at the Society of Sin used with each other. If this was what wearing breeches got her…
Then you will probably do it again, you tart.
If only she could deny the little voice, but deep down, she knew it was true. Even as she begged, as her body tried to bear down and push the intruder out, there was a part of her loved every second of this wicked act. Loved the invasion, loved the burning sting, the way he forced open her body for his pleasure, the very helplessness that left her defenseless against him.
She craved the penultimate climax, and her passion was growing with every violation, her climax hovering just out of reach.
“Take it, Josie… take my cock up your sweet arse for me. I know it hurts, but I want you to take it for me, anyway.”
If words could melt her into a puddle of lust, Elijah’s would have. His cock thrust deeper, his groin finally settling against her hot cheeks, but the stab of pain aroused her even more. She was taking it for him. Taking the whole punishment to please him. To pleasure him.
When he pulled out, she cried out again at the odd sensation of him receding inside her. She was even more sensitive to the movement, her fingers scrabbling for purchase. It felt as if she was being dragged along with him… then he thrust in again, more smoothly this time, and she was full again.
“Oh, please! Elijah!” She threw her head back as he rode her with long, slow strokes, causing chaos within her body.
The sensations were too new, too odd, to give her the satisfaction her body was clamoring for, yet each thrust sent her arousal soaring. She gripped the sheets beneath her bound hands, her toes curling as the strange sensations rippled through her in spasms.
It felt different from every time before and yet similar. Her pussy ached, clenching emptily, but with every stroke of his cock, he pressed against something inside her that made her body hum and buzz, pushing her closer to orgasm.
Elijah’s fingers moved, sliding over her hip and down between her legs to stroke her aching pussy. Josie screamed at the shocking sensation of his touch where she needed it most, pushing her to a climax while he fucked her arse.
It was depraved, punishment and pleasure combined, and so utterly delicious. She was his—completely. Every part of her had been thoroughly dominated by him, claimed and conquered.
She splintered apart at his touch.
Her back arched as he rubbed, her orgasm overpowering her senses, leaving her bucking beneath him, driving her hips back against his thrusting cock. It hurt deliciously, the pleasure increasing because of the pain it had to overcome, and the climax felt fuller, more all-encompassing, than any from before.
Josie collapsed, and his body drove hers into the bed. Her pinched nipples pressed against the mattress, trapped under her body, the compression making her scream again as another climax wracked her. La petite mort, the little death—true to its name, darkness took her as she heard Elijah groan as he buried himself deep, his cock throbbing as he filled her bowels.
Elijah
On the heels of utter bliss, there was a small moment of panic when he realized Josie had fainted, but he calmed quickly. Such an occurrence was not common within the Society, but it was not unknown. Once he saw she was breathing evenly and easily, he relaxed.
By the time he had unclipped Josie’s rosy nipples, cleaned her with several damp cloths—since the dirt she’d added to her person required more than one—and unbound her wrists, Josie
was softly snoring. Elijah’s lips twitched.
This time, as he curled up in bed beside her, pulling her into his arms, he did not care what gossip it might bring. Somehow, he would protect her. For now, he wanted her here in his arms, where he could feel every breath she took and knew she was safe.
The next morning, when she sleepily snuggled into him, he rolled her onto her back and thrust between her willing thighs, riding both of them to climax before breaking their fast.
Chapter 34
Josie
Sore all over, inside and out, Josie stared at her husband across the table. He looked utterly normal, reading his paper, making the occasional comment to his brothers or his father, as if they had not had life-altering relations in his bed last night.
Perhaps for him, it had not been life-altering…
For Josie… she had never imagined giving up so much control to a man, but as she sat gingerly on her chair, she kept sneaking glances at Elijah, hoping for his approval, and when he met her gaze and smiled, she felt warm all over.
Part of her was shrieking she was a ninny for allowing him to do all those awful things to her, but another part of her knew as soon as she was fully recovered, she was wont to get him to do them again—even putting his cock in her bottom. It had been awful and wonderful at the same time. This morning, he’d taken her the usual way, his hands gripping her sore bottom, chest hairs abrading her sore nipples, and she had exploded in climax.
Now, it was impossible to look at him without feeling the aches throughout her body. Blasted man. Yet she had never felt so happy and satisfied, albeit annoyed it would be days before she was comfortable riding a horse. At least they were in London, not the country, so it was not such a great loss.
As if he could hear her thoughts, Elijah lifted his gaze, and Josie blushed.
The next few days passed peaceably, though she could sense Elijah’s tension as no new information about the traitor came in. Jacques had hardly been a font of information. Unfortunately, investigations took time, and Josie was not a very patient person.
Three mornings after they had met Jacques, a letter arrived for Uncle Oliver at breakfast. Sitting at the head of the table, as he always did, he sat up straighter when he saw the handwriting on the outside of the letter, drawing Josie’s attention and curiosity.
“Father?” Adam’s attention had also been drawn, and Elijah and Joseph looked up from their own plates as well.
“It’s from Evie,” Uncle Oliver said, breaking the seal. No other words could have grabbed all of their attention as quickly.
Josie had checked in with Mary and Lily the night before, but neither of them had heard from Evie recently. Things had been at a standstill as they waited for more information, whether from one of Uncle Oliver’s operatives or from Evie. She had enjoyed the time with her friends and Elijah, but she also felt itchy, as if something terrible was about to happen. Knowing Evie was well enough to send a letter was a massive relief.
“Dear Uncle Oliver,” he read aloud. “Tell Elijah he needs to be more careful—the man he met at the Tramp’s Den was murdered. If he would like to verify, he needs to visit St. Bartholomew’s immediately.”
“Damn.” The curse exploded from Elijah’s lips as he threw his napkin onto the table beside his mostly empty plate. He caught Josie’s startled gaze and grimaced. “My apologies, Josie. Just…” His voice trailed off, and he sighed, shaking his head. Glancing around the room, he got to his feet. “I will go now.”
“Now?” Josie could understand why he wanted to verify Evie’s information, but why the rush? The men exchanged glances, piquing her ire, and she narrowed her eyes at them. There was something they knew they did not want to tell her. “Why do you have to go now? Why can he not wait? Surely, they will not bury him so quickly.”
“Not bury, sell.” Elijah corrected, startling the other gentlemen with his candidness. Joseph staunchly disapproved, while Adam and Uncle Oliver were more hesitant. She blinked as she took in Elijah’s statement. “St. Bartholomew’s is known for selling bodies that go unclaimed, and it’s very possible our Frenchman will be sold.”
Her mouth popped open in shock and horror before she managed to recover herself. If she reacted too strongly, Elijah might not tell her about such things in the future.
“They will sell him?” She was proud of how even she kept her voice, as though she was asking after a horse, not a person.
“If we do not get there to claim the body first, yes.” Elijah stepped away from the table, giving them all an apologetic look. “I will go now.”
“Take Joseph with you,” Uncle Oliver said, relieving Josie of the worry Elijah would go out alone, but still…
“I want to come, too.” Josie delicately placed her own napkin down.
“No.” Elijah met her narrowed gaze. “There is no need. There will be nothing you can do there, and considering the man I met the other night was in good health, it is likely he died violently. That is not something you need to see.”
Josie opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. Joseph, Adam, and Uncle Oliver were staring at her. Elijah had worded his objection carefully, not indicating she could also identify Jacques—and truth be told, he was right. There was no reason for both of them to go. He could identify the man without her.
Since Elijah had taken the time to reasonably lay out his objections, Josie would show him she could be reasonable as well. Besides, giving in now would give her more ammunition later to join him when she was more interested.
“Very well,” she said stiffly, granting him the concession and giving him a significant look to ensure he noted how cooperative she was being.
Elijah
“I cannot believe Josie wanted to see this.” Joseph stared down at the battered face. It was Jacques, recognizable despite the beating he’d taken before his death.
The St. Bartholomew’s orderly coughed from his place in the corner, and Elijah elbowed his brother. The orderly was already agog, probably wondering why two members of the haut ton showed up out of nowhere to see an unclaimed body. They did not need to fuel his curiosity.
“She did not want to see this,” Elijah muttered. “She did not want to be left out. There is a difference.” Joseph snorted but did not argue.
Jacques’ death had been hard. He had been beaten and eventually strangled, then his tongue had been cut out. One could only presume his talking to Elijah had been discovered and punished, especially since he had divulged information he was not supposed to have disclosed.
Or maybe just talking to Elijah had been enough?
Then why had he been given a story to tell if someone came asking questions?
Frustrated, Elijah stared at the corpse and wished he could ask Jacques a few more questions, wondering if the man had information he’d held back.
However, there was nothing more for them here.
“Come on.” Although he felt a small pang of conscience leaving the man there on the slab, it was enough he stopped by the orderly. He arranged to pay for a proper burial for Jacques rather than allowing him to be sold to the anatomists or end up in a pauper’s grave. The man had been helping a villain, but he had not seemed dangerous on his own. He had unknowingly gotten mixed up in the wrong business and paid dearly for it.
“Now what?” Joseph asked, trotting at Elijah’s heels, his brow furrowed. “That’s another lead dead. Somehow, this villain always knows our moves.”
“Yes.” They had a leak somewhere. “I need to talk to Mitchell.”
He had already directed Mitchell to look into the men Jacques had recently gambled with, hoping they could backtrace the steps to the person to who he’d owed his debt. Elijah did not have any other avenues to investigate at the moment. Now, he could have Mitchell ask around about Jacques’ death as well. As much as he wished he could do so directly, the kinds of men who would have the answers he sought would answer Mitchell far more readily than they would him. He might send Adam around as well.
This was one of those instances where his upright reputation worked against him.
Unless he went disguised, but his mind balked. He foresaw a fight with Josie and was not sure he had enough arguments martialed to keep her out of things. Besides, if there was someone on the inside, going out in disguise would be even more dangerous than going out as himself.
Thugs who would hesitate to attack a member of the nobility would think nothing of attacking someone dressed like one of them. Though Anthony and Nathan would be up for accompanying him, he was better off in the ballrooms, where both the French and Russian delegations were. He had spent too much time trying to trace threads among the villain’s henchmen rather than searching for him directly.
“Do you think this will impact the wedding?” Joseph was hesitant about asking, but Elijah did not judge him. Though they were hunting a traitor, which was of utmost importance, it was so people could live peaceably, get married, and have children without having to worry about their futures. Which made the wedding just as important in its own way.
They were securing futures worth fighting for.
Joseph and Miss Bliss’ wedding wouldn’t be in London. They had eschewed having a wedding during the Season in favor of having it at Camden Hall three weeks after the Season proper was over. According to Joseph, Miss Bliss had been perfectly happy to go along with his suggestion, which had been made out of love for his home and for safety concerns. They had better control over everything at Camden Hall.
“No. Thankfully, you chose to have a small wedding. Well, for a ton wedding.” Elijah grinned. Most of the guests would be their neighbors. As a second son, Society did not have the same rabid interest in Joseph’s wedding as they had Elijah’s, especially since Elijah was married and—they would assume—well on his way to producing an heir.