But of course, Molly had nothing sleep-related in mind.
“Move back up to his shaft,” Molly ordered Viola, and I could feel Molly’s voice tickling under my skin as she spoke with her head against me, the vibrations moving through my chest like a cat’s purr.
Viola obeyed, her mouth tracing a wide, hot line from my root to the blunt cap of my dick.
“Lick his tip,” Molly breathed, and we both watched as Viola did, her tongue flickering across the slit at the top. I let loose a ragged breath, and Molly tilted her head to look up at me. “Does it feel good?”
I hesitated. Should I lie and say no? Was I supposed to be reluctant to enjoy this? Because mostly I was, but also Viola had reintroduced her nimble fingers to the equation, and God, they were everywhere, digging into my thighs and cradling my balls and caressing my perineum, while her tongue still swirled around my crown.
“Answer me,” Molly said, reaching up to touch my lips. “Because if she’s not doing a good enough job, I’ll have to give her a little encouragement.”
“I—” Wait, was that supposed to be a bad thing? It was so hard to think like this.
My silence was apparently enough of an answer for Molly, and she got to her feet and walked around the bed to a place behind Viola. I missed the compact warmth of her body, but my pouting ended quickly as Molly cocked her hand and slapped Viola hard on the ass. The woman yelped and then redoubled her efforts on my dick, circling my shaft with her fingers while she sucked on my crown.
“Christ.”
“Is she doing better?” Molly demanded, one red eyebrow arched. She causally rubbed the spot on her friend that she’d just smacked, waiting for my answer.
“I—yes. Yes, it feels good.”
Molly’s fingers ran over Viola’s back and the other woman shivered, goose bumps pebbling everywhere on her fair, freckle-free skin. She guided Viola to shift on the bed so that Viola knelt facing away from me, and then when she bent down to resume her worshipful adoration of my dick, I was treated to the soft lips of her cunt and the small, pink pucker above that.
I closed my eyes. Old Silas would have loved this. Old Silas had spent many nights with multiple women in various configurations, nights with one woman perched happily on his face while another perched happily…elsewhere. But New Silas wanted something different, New Silas wanted Molly and only Molly.
And it was so fucking unfair that Molly was doing this to me, making me respond to another woman when I only wanted her.
“Open your eyes,” Molly ordered. I did, keeping my gaze well away from Viola, and having something of a realization at the same time.
“Next time we do this,” I told Molly, “you’re going to be the one tied up. Next time we do this, I’m going to make you submit to whatever I want, even if it’s another man fucking you. What do you think about that?”
She didn’t answer, but the pink flush in her cheeks and the part of her lips betrayed her response.
I continued, “You’re doing this to stay in control, and it’s not going to work.”
“I’m doing this because of the contract,” Molly maintained.
“No, you’re doing this because if my hands were free, if it was just you and me in here, you know you wouldn’t leave this room as the same person. You know that nothing would be the same, and you can’t let go of that feeling of security and sameness right now, because everything else is so uncertain, everything else is changing, and your sense of self is all you have left.”
“Listen to him,” Castor said from his chair. “I think he’s right.”
Molly shook her head. “This isn’t about control, Silas.”
“Maybe not,” I conceded. “But maybe it is. Maybe, in spite of tying me up and watching another woman fuck me, you are still going to leave here changed. You are still going to leave here completely wrecked, thinking of me and of the effect I have on you, knowing that you can’t live without me.”
She leaned closer to me. “Is that a dare?”
“Are you scared that I’ll win?”
She rolled her eyes. “I never lose.”
“Bold words, Mary Margaret. Care to stake some money on that?”
“And how would we judge if I won?”
“I’ll be the judge,” the Baron chimed in.
“There you go,” I told her. “As impartial as they get.”
Finally, she just smiled and laughed. “And what would you like, Silas? Half my kingdom?”
“No. How about the price of a boat ticket?”
She stiffened, and I knew that she understood exactly what I meant.
“If I win, if you still can’t keep control of tonight, then you run away with me. Anywhere, France or America or Italy…I don’t care where. As long as we’re together.”
She bit her lip. “And if I win?”
“I’ll disappear. And leave you to your company and Hugh in peace.”
It was a risky gamble—for both of us. If she agreed, she could lose her company. Or I could lose her. Of course, we both knew it was only a game, that I would never press her to leave her company behind if she didn’t want to. But either she felt supremely confident in her ability to dominate me or she secretly wanted to lose, because she looked at me and said simply, “Okay.”
“Good,” Silas said in a husky voice. “Let’s get started.”
God, looking at him like this—tied up, being serviced, his face full of frustrated lust and suppressed pleasure as he tried to fight off how good Viola was making him feel—I was wet just watching him. Did he really think he could top me from the bottom? Without being able to touch me? When I loved this so much, having him tied up and completely at my disposal to play with as I pleased?
And how much did he really think he had changed? I knew Silas, and Silas had never been the type to turn down sex when it was offered, and even though I now believed he really did love me, I also believed that he was a man through and through, and would be easy enough to tame. Like a cat with cream or a dog with a bone from the kitchen, I would tame him with Viola’s pussy.
“Look at this, Silas,” I purred, nudging Viola’s legs farther apart so that he could see how wet she was, just from playing with his cock. I’d chosen Viola mostly because she looked like me, but also because, despite her somewhat prudish upbringing in an austere town up North, she was a purely sexual creature, the kind whose arousal was uncomplicated and universal. She didn’t need to be in control and she didn’t need to have control taken from her, she didn’t need to be with a man or a woman—all she needed was sex, in any configuration. And Silas was a hell of a configuration; I couldn’t blame her for responding to his long, muscled form, stretched into tense and powerful lines.
Silas glanced over to Viola—victory, he listened to me!—and then glanced away, looking bored. Shit.
“I want to see yours,” he said. I don’t know how he did it, managing to sound growling and commanding and yet so cultivated at the same time, but however he did it, it sent chills down my spine, and I found myself obeying despite my earlier intention not to, climbing up on the bed and rising up on my knees. It will tease him more if you show him, I rationalized. It would rile him up, crack that veneer, and then I would win.
It’s just a game, I thought, a silly dare. It’s meaningless.
But it wasn’t meaningless, not really. It didn’t matter that the real world stakes might not apply when the sun came up, what mattered were the stakes now. Here, in this room, it was real. It did have meaning, and Silas was right—I had tied him up because I’d known that if I came to him and confessed my own feelings, told him the impact his confession had on me, then he would have laid such a devastatingly complete claim to me that nothing else would have mattered. I would have walked out of this room and surrendered my company happily, I would have said yes to Silas’s proposal, I would have given up everything because I would belong to Silas and not to myself.
I wasn’t ready for that.
Maybe I’d never be read
y.
Except I wanted to be, deep down. Wasn’t that why I’d agreed to his silly dare? Because part of me wanted him to rise up and claim me, to take care of me—not with money or a house or a legitimate marriage even, but take care of me, my inner soul, my inner Mary Margaret O’Flaherty. I wanted there to be one place in my life where I didn’t have to be strong, one place where I was able to rest.
I spread my legs for Silas.
“You’re wet,” he rasped. I sensed his desire—his weakness—and decided to exploit it, grabbing Viola by the hips. Silas’s cock slid from her mouth with a wet pop, and she rose up, her face flushed and her lips swollen and pink from sucking Silas. I kissed those lips, softer and silkier than a man’s, and I reached up to stroke her breasts.
Silas did not bother to hide his interest.
Viola and I were on the same side of the bed, and it was easy for me to bend my head down and suckle her breasts. I fluttered my tongue against her nipple, and she arched her back, giving a little cry.
“So you can touch her?” Silas asked. “She can touch you?”
I straightened and pulled Viola in for a close embrace, pressing our bare stomachs together, squeezing our breasts against one another’s. Silas’s expression didn’t change, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw his rigid cock give a surge. He liked seeing Viola and me together. I noted that.
“The contract only says I can’t be touched by a man,” I clarified. It was a ridiculous oversight; as if sex between two women somehow carried less emotional or physical weight than sex between a man and a woman. But I supposed those were the narrow-minded men of England for you, even in our modern, industrial times. “I don’t think Hugh’s solicitors know our habits very well.”
Castor laughed from his chair. When I looked over to smile at him, I saw that he was rubbing himself through his trousers, and that sent a bolt of lust through me. Castor was a very experienced and particular man about his tastes—if something aroused him, it had to be quite arousing indeed, and though he wasn’t my lover now and would never be again, it still made my core clench thinking that I could affect him like that.
Silas is ridiculous. Obviously, I was born to be in control, and obviously, I was born to love it.
“Viola,” Silas said. “I want you to kiss your way down to Molly’s breasts right now. Yes, there you go…take one in your hand and then kiss over to her nipple, but don’t take it in your mouth.”
I sighed at Viola’s touch as she obeyed without hesitation, her lips soft and light around my areola.
“Now,” Silas said, “put your mouth over her nipple and suck it onto your tongue.”
She did, and I nearly moaned out loud from the sensation. I hadn’t had someone lavishing attention on my breasts in so very, very long, and Viola seemed keen to make up for all the time I’d lost, her hands braced on my waist as she leaned over and worked me with an eagerness that made Silas clench his jaw.
“That’s right,” he said. “Now flick your tongue across the tip. Good. Oh, very good—do you feel her waist squirming between your hands? That means you’re doing a very good job, Viola. A very good job.”
Suddenly, I felt a little jealous. I wanted his praise, I wanted to please him, I wanted to be doing a good job, because that meant I was a good girl. His good girl.
His Molly.
I reached down and found Viola’s cunt with my fingers and began stroking the tight little bud there, looking over at Silas just in time to see his eyes darken and his hands pull unconsciously at his ties.
But fuck, somehow I’d slid out of control, letting him dictate the scene, letting my need to please him override my need to dominate his pleasure. No—it was time for me to take the reins back.
I moved my fingers lower and found Viola even wetter than before. Good.
“I want you to straddle him,” I commanded. “And then rub yourself against his dick.”
Silas squirmed, either in annoyance or anticipation, straining again at his ties, but the moment Viola’s wet pussy started grinding against him, a shudder wracked through his body. I bent down, so my lips were at his ear. “It’s going to feel so good when she lets you inside, Silas. It’s going to be so tight. So warm. I’m going to make her use you, did you know that? She’s going to use that big cock to come and not care how it feels for you, and you are going to feel every pulse and squeeze of it.”
“I would rather have it be yours,” Silas said, turning his head so that our noses touched. His eyes burned into mine. “I would rather be feeling every pulse and squeeze of my Molly.”
Behind me, Viola was rubbing herself eagerly on Silas, the dark head of his cock disappearing and reappearing as she slid herself against it. Her hands were braced on his stomach, her fingernails digging into the firm flesh there. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed, and I knew she would come soon.
Good.
“Viola,” I said, rising up to my knees next to her. She stopped moving and looked at me expectantly, her nipples hard and her breathing fast. “Lift up a little. Don’t move unless I tell you.”
She did, and the moment I reached under her to take Silas’s cock in my hand, he groaned, bucking up against his ties and shoving himself deeper into my fist.
I froze. I had only meant to guide him inside of Viola, but his desperate noises with my hand on him, the way his thick length slid through my fist…
Castor cleared his throat, a warning to me that I was getting close to the bounds of the legally forbidden, and I quickly notched the head of Silas’s cock against Viola’s hole and let go. Now it was Silas that was frozen, sweat starting to gleam on his chest, refusing to move himself upward into Viola’s pussy.
That was fine. That was more than fine, actually, because the fact that he wasn’t trying to wrest control of the scene away from me meant that he was struggling to keep his wits about him. The bed was wide enough for me to lower myself to my belly and lay my head on Silas’s muscled stomach and enjoy the suspended tableau.
Now it was Viola I talked to instead of Silas. “I can see him stretching you,” I told her. “Already stretching you and he will stretch you even more when you take him all the way inside.” I traced the line where their flesh met with my finger, loving the way I could feel Silas tremble under me. “I can see every vein on Silas. He’s so hard right now, so very hard, and all because of you and me. Let’s make him feel better, shall we?”
Viola nodded as I knelt once more and took her hips in my hands. And then a small whimper issued from somewhere in her throat as I guided her down, all the way down, impaling her fully on Silas’s dick. Silas hissed, every muscle in his thighs and calves looking like carved marble as he kept his body completely still. But he didn’t close his eyes, he didn’t look away; our stares were locked as I began moving Viola’s hips back and forth over him.
“That’s it,” I whispered to her. “You’re doing great.”
She whimpered again as I moved her hips faster, forced her to grind harder against him.
“Isn’t she doing such a good job, Silas? Isn’t her pussy so soft? So wet?”
His jaw tightened.
“It’s so fun to move her on you,” I continued. “Like she’s a plaything that I’m using to fuck you. Like she’s a toy, and we’re both using her.”
“Jesus, Molly,” Silas groaned, and finally his eyes squeezed shut, as if he couldn’t handle both the sight of me fucking him with Viola’s body and my words.
I bit my lip to hold back my smile. I was winning. Viola would orgasm, and then so would Silas, and I would have won. And more importantly, I would have gotten what I came here for tonight—the chance to give Silas something back. To give him something to hold on to as our paths irrevocably veered off in different directions.
“Use him to come,” I commanded Viola. “Ride him as hard as you need.”
I let go of her hips as she lost herself on him, squirming and moving up and down, and I dropped my hands down to play with myself, not shocked to find
that I was very wet, not shocked to find that my clit was swollen and needy. It wouldn’t take long for me to come. And seeing Silas like this…perhaps it was a defect in my personality that I found this sight so delicious, despite what had happened with Mercy. Perhaps I should be jealous that even now he was starting to lose himself in the tight, frantic clench of Viola’s cunt, starting to fuck her from the bottom. But the jabbing motion of that thick cock and his narrow hips only served to turn me on more, the sight of him sheathing himself over and over again in Viola just making me greedier for my own climax.
I was too far gone in the scene to care, but I knew I would feel the same way once I was out of it too—that somehow, for Silas and me, this was okay. This wasn’t him with Mercy, chasing his own selfish fears. This was he and I together, with someone else, and there was nothing but pleasure and happiness here. Even Castor was openly stroking himself now, his eyes hungry on the gasping woman astride Silas.
“Tell me what he feels like,” I told Viola, and my voice came out not as authoritative, but rather filled with longing and thirst, and Silas seemed to notice, his eyes opening again and dropping to where my fingers were buried in my own cunt.
“He feels…” Viola took in a deep breath as she continued to work him with frenzied movements of her hips. “He’s so big. And deep. And oh…oh God.” The climax took her fast and hard, and she wailed, curling over Silas’s chest, her legs instinctively trying to close together, despite still being astride Silas’s hips.
The three of us watched her as she slowly came down, slumped against Silas, every curve and rise of her body marked with satiety and contentment. The problem being that the rest of us were nowhere near satisfied and content; Silas looked like a man on a medieval torture rack, every limb and muscle completely tense as Viola still spasmed around his cock, Castor still languidly stroked himself, and I was less rubbing myself now than fucking my own hand.
The Persuasion of Molly O'Flaherty Page 12