Hell. Please let this work.
Chapter Seven
A stranger looked back at her from the full-length mirror. One maintaining the illusion of a woman stylish, confident, and thoroughly at ease with her near-naked body.
Tilting her head, Grace continued to study her princess self, thankful for the mind-calming privacy of the Fallen guest chamber. Madame Alice and her seamstresses had performed a miracle, creating something from a fairy tale in just a few hours. If fairy tales were downright hedonistic, that was.
A sapphire satin bodice studded with crystals and trimmed in silver lace stretched from her underarms to the tops of her thighs, the sewn-in stays cupping and shoving her breasts so high it appeared at any moment her nipples might pop free. Embroidered silver muslin cascaded from the hem of the bodice, but only around the back, leaving her legs scandalously bare and offering glimpses of her pussy when she walked. A small tiara and sapphire-studded combs swept her hair back from her face, but allowed it to tumble freely down her back.
All in all, she felt…
“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”
Grace spun around in a whirl of whisper-thin fabric to see Sebastian propped against the chamber doorframe. He wore an open-necked white linen shirt with a jewel-encrusted belt about his waist, old fashioned black breeches, and had one booted foot crossed over the other. But while his pose was casual, his expression could only be described as carnal.
Emboldened by the lusty appreciation, Grace strolled forward with a deliberate sway of her hips. A smile of delight curved her lips when his gaze rested on her breasts, but when it dropped lower and halted, she laughed. “Sir! How dare you enter the domain of a princess without invitation.”
“I believe you already have some idea of what I might dare, your highness,” he replied with a groan. “Fuck. That costume. Alice is too bloody skilled for her own good. It will be perfect though, for later. Especially if…”
When his voice trailed off, Grace’s eyes narrowed. “Especially if what?”
“Especially if Baxter accepts the one-off invitation that Vice sent him, and turns up here apocalyptic with rage that his property dares to defy his orders in the very center of, now, what was it? Willful depravity.”
Her lips quirked as she kissed his cheek. “Naughty man. One would think you’d do anything to see this plan work.”
“I would do anything,” Sebastian said quietly. “To ease your mind and ensure your happiness and liberty. So in time you might choose to be with me.”
Grace stilled, her heart about to beat out of her chest. Did he mean…“In time? What about right now?”
“Very well. Then know that once this bloody night is behind us, I wish to have a long and frank discussion with you about, er, certain matters. Certain future matters. The two of us in the future, as in tomorrow onward…fuck. This is why Vice does all the fucking speeches.”
“It sounded rather perfect to me,” she said, giddy with sheer joy.
“Madam,” he purred, and in one swift movement his hand was between her legs and cupping her pussy, leisurely grinding his palm against her. “Are you by chance amused by my remarkable lack of eloquence?”
“Ah…no,” she moaned, tilting her hips to give him better access. “Never.”
A moment later Sebastian maneuvered her against the silk-hung wall, dropped to his knees and leaned forward until his breath teased the tight blond thatch between her legs.
Grace sighed, her hips circling of their own volition in slow, blatant want.
“Good,” he rasped, his thumbs massaging her outer labia. “Glad to hear it, darling. Now, spread your thighs wide and show me that pretty cunt. I’m afraid we cannot go downstairs until you’ve come in my mouth, for the perfect finishing touch to this enchanting costume is your pussy and inner thighs all wet and glistening, and a spicy perfume of needs well met.”
Oh God.
As the tip of Sebastian’s tongue flicked her clit, her head fell back against the wall, and she threaded her fingers through his hair in preparation of the sweet onslaught. He was utterly focused as he held her labia apart and licked her, his tongue a hot, relentless arrow of exquisite pleasure as it alternately lashed her clit and plunged into her pussy.
Gasping for breath, Grace writhed against his hot mouth. When her juices coated his tongue and chin, he penetrated her with two thick fingers, twisting and curling and rubbing them against a place that made her cry out with sheer bliss, helpless against a whirlwind of intoxicating sensation.
“Please, Sebastian,” she begged, ready to agree to anything if he would just boost her over that last edge and make her come. “Please, now.”
Instantly he wrapped his lips around her clit, the delicate suction contrasting so perfectly with the rough drive of his fingers that she climaxed, shuddering and jerking as waves of ecstasy buffeted her whole body.
“Mmmm,” said Sebastian, leaning back on his boot heels and licking his lips, watching with a rather smug smile while she recovered her wits. “Much better. Now we’re ready—”
Not even allowing him to finish the sentence, Grace shoved him. Off balance, he fell back onto a thick woven rug, and she scrambled on top of him, one knee falling on either side of his thighs as her backside pinned his legs to the floor.
“Not quite,” she replied in a low, sultry voice. Somehow she managed to undo the front flap of his breeches without tearing off the buttons, freeing his hard cock into her waiting hands.
Lowering her head she took him into her mouth, sucking gently on the swelling head while lapping the sensitive underside with her tongue.
Sebastian groaned, and this time it was his hands cupping her head as he wordlessly pleaded for more. Greedily she took him deeper, sucking his length down her throat while she clenched and unclenched one hand around the thick base and cupped his seed-heavy balls.
“Gracie,” he muttered, panting hard while his hips bucked with such violence she swayed on her precarious perch. “That feels good. So damned good, darling. Your mouth on my cock, your hands…going to make me come so hard…”
Sebastian climaxed with a guttural groan. Reveling in the earthy taste of him, she swallowed hard then slid his cock from her mouth, delicately lapping it clean before tucking it back under the breeches flap and refastening the buttons.
Smiling serenely into his sated, half-dazed eyes, Grace braced her hands on his solid chest, rose to her feet, and smoothed the creases from her costume. “Now, my lord. Now we are ready to join the party.”
…
The ballroom was rapidly filling with a crush of London’s best—well-dressed voyeurs choosing their spots on the tiered seating, male and female pirates and captives mingling on the wooden ship deck waiting for proceedings to start—but Sin only had eyes for one.
The luscious, masked princess in blue satin on his arm.
No other woman in the room held a candle to Grace. Certainly not the combination of down to earth sweetness, wit, a wide-eyed enthusiasm for sex, and breathtaking beauty. And the best part was, she had feelings for him. Only a woman who truly held a man in affection could smile at the most ridiculous, vaguest, bumbling declaration of intent ever spoken, then a short while later, own him so completely.
Christ, he’d pleasured her to get her in the right frame of mind for the evening; he’d never expected her to return the favor. But when she’d taken charge for the first time, straddling him on the guest chamber rug and performing the best cock suck of his life…even the thought of it made his breeches uncomfortably tight again.
“Sebastian,” said Grace, tugging on his sleeve. “Look at the ship! How splendid. And everyone’s costumes. Does Madame Alice make them all?”
“Yes. Most orders get placed months in advance, so it’s a very, very lucrative evening for her and the girls. An enormous amount of work, but unlike other modistes, payment is expected promptly on delivery, and I calculate a financial bonus for the seamstresses involved into each bill. They’ll get the
equivalent of a year’s rent, food, and clothing from one ball.”
Her hand curled tighter around his arm and squeezed. “I love that. All the wonderful, practical ways you help. I bet your mama looks down from heaven with such pride. Your father, too.”
A boulder lodged in his throat and he looked away.
“It will be ten years next month. I miss them a lot.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them. “Mama was so much fun, kind and loving and thoroughly unconventional. Father told me he knew the day he met her that she was the woman for him. I always thought that fanciful. Unlikely. But now…”
“I would have loved to have met them. Tell them what a fine son they raised,” said Grace, cupping his cheek, and he reluctantly turned back, unsettled again by the feelings of vulnerability and awkwardness. Not even being able to string a coherent fucking sentence together. Damned bloody poets and playwrights had a lot to answer for, implying that this love business was all so natural and easy.
“I’m sure they would have—”
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Pirates and Captives! Please take your seats and places, ball festivities will begin in a few minutes!”
Glancing over at the footman bellowing his message to all corners, Sin exhaled with a mixture of relief and irritation. “That is our call, Princess Grace. Does your mask feel secure enough?”
“Perhaps it could be a little tighter,” she said, turning her head so he could swiftly retie the silken thread. “Lead on, my pirate. I do hope I’ve been allocated a very public place in front of all these lords and ladies.”
“But of course,” he replied, dropping a quick kiss on her shoulder before escorting her across the ballroom floor and up onto the wide deck.
With a blast of trumpet fanfare, Vice appeared out of a cabin. The viscount was dressed up to the hilt in black breeches and boots, a hunter-green velvet jacket, white open-neck shirt, and black tricorn hat. One eye was covered in a black satin patch, and his fingers damn near glowing with heavy gold, ruby, and emerald-set rings. He stood at the ship’s helm then strolled the length of the deck, barking instructions to his crew, halting here and there to test a whip or fondle a cowering captive.
The audience cheered and applauded wildly, and Sin almost joined in. Nobody commanded attention like Vice, and the fearless exhibitionist was in his element here.
“You! Pirate Sin! Who do you offer for my amusement and plunder?”
Sin bowed deeply. In the most carrying voice he could muster, he replied, “She is called Princess Grace, my captain. From a land far across the sea.”
“Grace, you say?” Vice bellowed to be heard over the murmurings of the crowd, stunned at the mention of a name. “Well, show me. Show us all the hidden treasure from such a land. She looks ripe for the taking!”
He glanced at Grace, and at her quick nod, he lifted her up onto one of the wide padded benches. Angling her so she mostly faced the now rapt crowd, he stood behind her, one hand cupping her right breast, while the other idly stroked her slick pussy. “Princess Grace is indeed ripe, my captain. Intended for the tyrant king of Baxterland, I stole her for my own pleasure and trained her in the ways of wickedness. What an apt pupil she turned out to be.”
“I must see this. A demonstration?” called Vice, briefly meeting his gaze. Sin inclined his head, and Vice turned to the audience. “Who would see this once innocent princess mercilessly plundered?”
Cheers, applause, and whistles lifted the roof as Vice urged them on with further lewd suggestions and plans. Sin took the opportunity to talk to Grace, under the guise of kissing her neck. “All right, darling?”
“I’m eager. And nervous. And overwhelmed, all at once,” she whispered, moaning softly when he pushed a finger into her pussy. “But I’d like to come again. With you inside me. Can we do that?”
His cock surged and he gritted his teeth. “Of course. But it can’t be just you and I for the performance, we need another at least. Perhaps it is time to find your redhead.”
She tensed, and he wanted to call the whole bloody thing off, bundle her in his arms and take her back to his own chamber. Then she tilted her head and looked up at him, licking her lips. “Yes please.”
Nipping her neck, Sin laughed. “Wonderful minx. Captain! I put forward a plan for your consideration.”
Vice turned, one eyebrow raised in interest. “Yes?”
“Princess Grace is headstrong and untamed. I believe she should be forced to endure the attentions of another woman as punishment for her wanton behavior.”
Vice grinned, inclining his head to Grace, before turning and marching to the highest point of the deck where a large throne-like chair decorated with gems and oversized cushions waited. Sprawling across it, he picked up a silver bell, and rang it loudly.
“Here is my command. In the main entertainment of the evening, Princess Grace shall be fucked by Pirate Sin and a female captive of his choosing!”
The crowd roared their approval. Sin took a deep breath, but Grace turned her head again and nudged him. “Go on. I trust you, Sebastian.”
He smiled. “Then let us begin.”
…
If it weren’t for Sebastian, Grace might have lost her nerve completely.
The crescendo of noise rising and falling around her, the sheer number of masked men and women watching, touching themselves and others was beyond comprehension. But he stood behind her like hewn stone, talking, caressing her breast and lightly fingering her pussy, both anchoring her and ensuring she remained on a knife edge of promised pleasure.
“Pirate Sin!” called Lord Vissen from his throne. “The female captives will now parade by. You may choose one to assist in Princess Grace’s punishment at your leisure.”
“As you wish, captain,” said Sebastian. In her ear he whispered, “Any preferences?”
Grace’s gaze roamed over the masked women on the deck. Tall and short, plump and slender, redheads, brunettes, blondes, and ebony-haired, all bound and half-naked. Most were pale, but a few of the women possessed the sun-kissed hue of Spain or Portugal. A dark-skinned lady with a beautiful smile, heavy breasts, and pointed nipples the color of blackberries almost made her change her mind, but in the end her long-held redhead fantasy won out.
“That redhead over there. The tall, slender one in the green breeches,” she whispered back.
“You have exotic taste, darling. The lady is a thrice-married duchess, visiting from Prussia.”
As soon as the duchess was brought forward, the rest of the captives knelt down on small cushions scattered across the deck. Other pirates ambled amongst the women, kissing them, fondling bared breasts, some tugging unbound hair or administering light blows with a riding crop, invoking audible sighs and whimpers.
Grace squirmed, a fresh trickle of moisture bathing Sebastian’s fingers.
“Hurry, captive,” he growled at the beautiful redhead as she scrambled onto the bench. “I grow tired waiting for you, when the princess must be punished at once.”
“Beg pardon, my lord. I am yours to command,” said the duchess in musical, heavily accented English. She stood before them, her head bowed in submission.
Sebastian delved into Grace’s bodice and cupped her breasts, lifting both so her nipples were bared. “Suck the princess’s nipples.”
Looking up, her silver eyes visible through the mask and bright with anticipation, the duchess stepped forward. Soon Grace whimpered as the softest lips imaginable surrounded one swelling peak and gently drew on it, while a warm pink tongue flicked and lapped. So different to when Sebastian pleasured her nipples, and she missed his harder suction, the way his stubbled jaw stimulated her to further heights, but it still felt marvelous.
Abruptly Sebastian pushed the duchess’s head away and ordered the woman to kneel. A moment later Grace’s right foot was braced on the ship’s railing, opening her wide, and that warm, pink tongue was licking her clit.
“Oh God,” Grace moaned, writhing as delicious sensation built and bui
lt, but she couldn’t escape it, not when Sebastian’s hands on her breasts, his powerful body behind her, allowed no movement.
“More, captive,” ordered Sebastian, as he stopped massaging and started pinching her tender nipples. “Shove that tongue deep in the princess’s cunt. Yes, that’s it. Again. Again! Good.”
The duchess made a sobbing sound, and Grace glanced down in alarm, until she saw the ecstasy on the woman’s face, the way she’d delved into the front flap of her breeches to stroke herself. Overcome, Grace orgasmed with an abandoned scream, the other woman’s pleasure, that skilled tongue in her pussy, the rough pinches of her nipples, sending her over the edge.
Grace sagged against Sebastian. He nuzzled her neck then stilled.
“Baxter’s here,” he breathed in her ear. “Back row tiered seating, to the left. Only person not dressed for the occasion, and looking rather murderous.”
“Do remember to give him a wave,” she murmured back, as he nudged her forward until she balanced on her elbows and knees. Then he lifted the muslin fabric until it draped over her back, baring her bottom entirely.
“Now, captive,” said Sebastian in the loudest, harshest voice she’d ever heard him use. “Lie down in front of the princess and spread your legs wide. She’s going to return the favor.”
It was the strangest thing in the world to have another woman’s pussy so close, but fascinating, too. Carefully spreading the duchess’s tight red curls and pale brown labia with her fingertips, Grace lowered her head and tentatively licked the silken wet flesh.
Sweet heaven. She tasted good.
Firming her tongue as best she could, Grace dragged it along the woman’s slit, then pushed it inside her. The duchess’s cried out as she writhed and ground her soaked pussy into Grace’s face, coating her lips and chin with moisture. Pleased, she licked even harder.
A low growl was the only warning she had, as Sebastian gripped her hips and thrust his engorged cock all the way into her pussy. From this angle he felt even longer and thicker than usual, and as the momentum shoved her forward, forcing her tongue deeper into the duchess’s spicy heat, Grace moaned at the bliss of pleasuring another while being so expertly plundered from behind. The duchess climaxed first, triggering another powerful orgasm for Grace. As delicious, endless spasms wracked her whole body and made her scream, Sebastian thrust brutally deep then pulled out, and she felt the warmth of his thick seed coat her lower back.
Surrender to Sin (Fallen) Page 9