House of Sin

by Lacy Danes

  Her hand slid down Adam’s peg, and Emily’s hand below hers glided along the smooth skin to the bristly hairs at the base.

  “Mmm. Yes. Lovely. Leave go, Sibila, and let her do the stroking while you kiss me.”

  Sibila released her grip on his cock, then grabbed Emily about the hips. She pulled Emily as if she were a doll and placed her so that she stood directly behind Adam, then pressed her body firmly up against his hard, taut back. Emily’s arm wrapped his waist as her hand glided repeatedly up and down his staff.

  “Excellent thought, Sibila. Fasten your skirts up as she strokes me from behind.” Every word and breath vibrated through her torso.

  His muscular back against her bosom and his bottom pressing into her stomach made the small stall spin about her. She had never been this close to a man. She leaned her cheek against his back as her hand continued to stroke him. His heart pounded beneath her ear, and she sighed. She floated in the hazy desire and lust that consumed the stall. There was no escape, and her deep, inner longing slowly peeled out of its cage, rushing to her fingers wrapped so firmly about his peg.

  “Damn good, little one. Continue to stroke me just so.” His entire body jerked.

  Emily inhaled to try to steady herself. A musky scent mixed with the smell of straw and beast overwhelmed her. His smell…she inhaled again. He was not the sprite she’d seen in the dry laundry yard, but a feral, mystical creature of sin. She wanted to capture that smell and him. She wanted to make Adam hers.

  My goodness, she had never had that inclination upon sighting a man. Her heart pounded, and the flesh between her thighs wept as her eyes should be weeping.

  She came here for a post and she just may have found something more rare. Bliss pulsed through her. It did feel good.

  Warmth radiated up Adam’s back. Emily’s hand stroked up to the crown of his cock, and sparks touched his bollocks. He clenched his teeth and breathed deep into his chest. “Sibila, you have such wonderful legs. Position your bottom and legs up on the hay ledge. I am going to fuck you hard and soundly.”

  Sibila’s hips sashayed as she backed away from him. Her eyes lit deviously. She knew what she was about, but Miss Grey? Sibila had asked him to help her learn. Said Miss Grey was innocent and wanted to learn as much as she could as quickly as possible. Was that truth or intrigue? Sibila had lied to him before. Hell, she had fibbed to everyone here at least once.

  Miss Grey’s hand continued to stroke him as if made for him. Each stroke sent sparks tingling through his sac. He gritted his teeth. Was Sibila sure she was innocent? She certainly acted the part, but that hand-frigging was exquisite. More so. She could bring him to his knees.

  What he did know was that the more Miss Grey knew about futtering, the more this house would only work to her advantage. Having him protect her was even more important, as everyone here had their secrets.

  He had yet to figure which of the sons Sibila was so dearly attached to. She was wicked enough to make things her way, no matter how tough and cunning the opponent. He had no reason to get in her way with Miss Grey. Unless her amore involved Devlin.

  Besides, Miss Grey was far prettier than Sibila had let on. She was small, with an oval face and rich brown hair that caught fire from the sun. Her pale complexion made her appear frail. Combine that with her obscure, dancing hazel eyes and Miss Grey reached deep to Adam’s protective streak.

  He figured Sibila had initiated this teaching because the new girl threatened her in some way, though Adam didn’t know what that might be. At first he’d thought only to have fun with the two girls, but now he’d met Miss Grey, he wanted to look out for her and help her find her way here. Right now, it seemed the best way to do so was to participate in whatever Sibila asked.

  Miss Grey’s petite hands stroked his hard cock. She reached the ridge at the crown and squeezed. Small, heated bursts of erotic delight erupted in him like sappy wood placed on the fire. Sweat dampened his brow, and he sucked in a breath. Wicked. Delightful. Delicate yet firm, her hands were unlike any other girl’s he had experienced. He glanced down at his purplish red cock, and the size of her fingers made him appear bigger than he was. What man wouldn’t like that view?

  “I am going to step forward, Miss Grey. Keep stroking me and simply move with me when I do.” He stepped forward.

  She moved with him. Her hands continued to frig him and not one moment did her body lose contact with his back.

  His chest constricted. There was something so endearing in her movements. She clung to him, pleasuring him, yet trembled erotically simply from pressing to him. It was as if she was adrift in the erotic sea created by being near him.

  Only a handful of sentences had left her mouth since she’d stepped into the stall, not enough to know her by, but her voice was delightful. He would bet his month’s pay there was an intelligent mind in her head. After this futter, he would find out.

  He reached Sibila. She slid her hands about his shoulders, and her lips touched his. Softly she traced her tongue along his lower lip, and then sucked the pout between her teeth. A moan escaped his chest. God, that felt good. The combination of Sibila teasing his mouth and Miss Grey fondling his cock was enough to have him spending in five strokes. No! You need to show restraint. Show Miss Grey how this should be done.

  He reached out and ran his fingers along the soft flesh just above Sibila’s stockings on the inside of her thighs.

  “Oh yes, Adam. Touch me. Pinch me,” Sibila mumbled into his mouth.

  He grabbed command of her lips and pressed back, thrusting his tongue deep between her teeth and along her tongue. She tasted of coffee. His brow pulled tight. Never mind that. Fuck her.

  He slid his fingers up her thigh and pinched her inner thigh hard. Sibila squirmed against him, lightly crying out into their kiss. He released the flesh and continued to trail his fingers higher up the slope of her leg and into Sibila’s creamy cunt lips.

  She was good and wet and delightfully fragrant too. There would be no problem diddling her as hard as he wanted to. He rocked his hips forward in a fucking motion. The front of his waist pressed against Sibila’s open thighs. His finger dipped into her hole and she bucked, sliding his fingers farther into her wet cunt. He moaned. She moaned. His prick wept desire from its tip. Miss Grey’s hand slickened, gliding along his stiffness with increased ease. She moaned ever so faintly.

  Miss Grey’s hips swayed forward and back, locked to him. Her mound rubbed against his bum and thighs. She was just as aroused as Sibila, yet he could not see her longing expression. “Reach around with your other hand, Miss Grey, and touch Sibila.”

  Miss Grey’s muscles tensed about him, her hand gripping his cock harder. Delightful. More wetness leaked from his tip. He groaned. He didn’t want to push her, but much more would happen to her in this house. She needed to know, and wanted to learn quickly, so this was the best way.

  Sibila reached around his shoulder and touched Miss Grey’s hair in a loving caress. Miss Grey’s muscles liquefied. Her hand trailed his waist to his stomach. He slid his fingers out of Sibila and reached for Miss Grey’s hand.

  His wet fingers entwined with her trembling ones and he pulled her hand to Sibila’s cunny. “A single touch, Miss Grey, as I want you to know what my cock will experience as you place me inside her.”

  He put her hand on Sibila’s mound and released it. She needed to enter her on her own. He would not force her.

  Sibila moaned and arched her hips toward him and Miss Grey’s hand. “Oh! Oh. Yes, Emily. Slide all the way in.” She reached over his shoulder and gripped Miss Grey’s hair.

  Miss Grey’s fingers disappeared inside of Sibila. Adam’s heart jumped into his throat, and his sack tightened. She did it. “Is your cunt as wet, Miss Grey?”

  Miss Grey pulled her hand back, still trembling. Her body shook against him. “Y-yes.” Her voice came out a whisper.

  “Good little girl. Grasp my cock again.”

  Her fingertips trailed along his length and,
one by one, each oiled finger gripped him.

  Lightning shot up his spine. He quaked and recaptured Sibila’s mouth, desperately wishing he kissed Miss Grey. His tongue twined with Sibila’s, and she pulled back. She reached beneath his arms and back to Miss Grey. Her arms trailed up and down.

  What was she doing? He glanced down. She caressed Miss Grey. Her hands stroked her sides and her breasts. He leaned forward and placed a wet kiss on Sibila’s ear. “Can you reach her nipples, wicked girl?”

  She nodded against his head and then kissed his cheek. Her arms brushed up his sides.

  “When I flex my hips forward, Miss Grey, I wish you to glide my cock all the way into Sibila.” He waited.

  He wanted Miss Grey’s nipples to be pinched by Sibila as he entered her. He listened for the quick intake of breath behind him and flexed his hips. Her hands glided him forward, and the tip of him touched hot velvet oil. He pushed farther forward, and her fingers unwrapped as he slid all the way in.

  Sibila cried out and her arms jerked as the spongy walls of her cunt clamped onto him.

  Miss Grey groaned behind him and arched her hips against his bottom, searching for a release she would be denied in this moment, but not for long. Miss Grey’s hand slid up his belly, trapped between him and Sibila.

  He pulled back to allow her to free her hand, but she did not move. Her fingers fluttered there, touching his wet cock and Sibila’s hairs between them. He pushed forward. Her hips moved with him. She danced with him in primal need.

  Sibila’s hands trembled, rubbing up and down his sides. Miss Grey’s mound ground against his bottom as his cock stroked in and out of Sibila’s greedy cunt. Her flesh pulled at his thickness, caressing every inch of his prick.

  His sac tightened and tingles shot down to the soles of his feet. He gritted his teeth. He needed to hold back, to last longer. The urge to fuck harder and harsher washed through him, and the will to prolong this lust unwound like a thread.

  Miss Grey’s rocking hips controlled him.

  He wanted her to come. To see her unravel as her soft voice screamed out in ecstasy.

  No, Adam! Don’t think about that.

  It is too late. Damn it!

  He pushed forward hard, banging Sibila back against the stall wall. “Ugh.”

  Don’t spill. Don’t!

  Sibila cried out. This was the kind of fucking she craved from him. He knew that. Hard and driving. It was what he craved too. He couldn’t hold back. Her cunt clasped tightly to him in coils of wanton hunger.

  His entire body tensed. He exploded, bucking hard and fast into her as the wall rattled behind her. Light flashed before him, and he spilled, his sac pulsing in a release he could not stop.

  He stilled, panting, and closed his eyes as everything about him hummed. Damn, that was powerful.

  Sibila leaned back. “I do believe, Adam, that is the first time you have spent before me. Do I take credit for your overwhelming lust or should I give that credit to Miss Grey?”

  Adam swallowed again. Damn it. He couldn’t bloody well tell her it was Miss Grey’s swaying hips and tingling hands. That would only vex her entirely.

  Miss Grey loosened her hold about his waist.

  Adam stepped back as did Miss Grey, and Sibila dropped her legs to the ground before him. “Well, Adam?”

  “Having the two of you was my undoing.” That was true.

  She frowned at him and narrowed her rapidly cooling eyes. “We have sheets to fit, Emily.” Sibila ran her hands down her skirts. “Are you ready?”

  Miss Grey nodded to Sibila, but said nothing.

  Sibila walked past Adam and Miss Grey and pulled the door open. She stepped out of the stall and disappeared up the aisle. Miss Grey turned to follow.

  “Wait, Miss Grey.” Adam stepped toward her. Her cheeks held a delightful flush of passion and her cap had been tipped askew from holding tight to him as he thrashed into Sibila. A smile curved his lips. Adorable. The only thing missing was kiss-swollen lips.

  He reached up and straightened the cap in her thick, wavy hair.

  “Thank—”

  He leaned down and pressed his closed lips firmly to hers. She sucked in a startled breath, parting her lips to him, and tensed. His tongue swept into her warmth just once. “Mmmmm.” She tasted sweet. He pulled back and whispered so low that only she could hear. “You are delightful, Miss Grey. I want to make you shatter in ecstasy. To ease that ache between your legs. Will you permit me to come to you tonight and frig you with my hands?”

  He pulled back and stared down into dark greenish blue eyes. She nodded. “All right.”

  Chapter Three

  Emily lifted her skirts and ran to catch up with Sibila. My goodness. What had she just agreed to? Her head spun and her heart beat wildly. His kiss had been so tender after all that scandalous behavior. She could not say no. He had tempted her base desires into wanting him to touch her. To do the things he did to Sibila in the barn. Simply sighting him had turned her sensibilities on their sides.

  She exited the stables into the dry laundry and spun about. No one was present. Her lips still tingled from the pressure. She raised her hand and touched her lips, as if doing so would preserve the romantic, tender gesture.

  She had only been kissed once before by the chipper’s son out by the barn when she was sixteen, three years past, and it did none of the things that Adam’s kiss had just now.

  Her feet moved quickly past the billowing sheets to the green kitchen door. A mix of thyme and sage filtered through the air. She inhaled deeply to steady herself and stepped into the small golden space in search of Sibila.

  Miss Wicking, the cook, stood with her back to the three arched fireplaces. Her hands worked busily, chopping a long ivory-and-green leek on the large cook’s table.

  “Pray, Miss Wicking, have you seen Sibila? I have lost her.”

  Miss Wicking looked up, her round face flushed from working by the hot fires. “She passed through here with a stack of linens, Miss Grey. I imagine she can be found on the second floor making beds. Or in one.” She rolled her eyes, and the ruddy skin on her plump cheeks crinkled as she chuckled a laugh that sneered.

  Emily’s brows pinched. Did she not like Sibila?

  “Care for a piece of cheese to get you through to dinner, dear? Nan brought a nice bit from the dairy, aged with sage and garlic. ’Tis delightfully saucy with a glass of wine.” Miss Wicking picked up a platter in one hand and a glass in the other. “Take a piece and a swallow, then get on your way to finish your tasks. The men shall be back from the day soon, and you house girls will need a little more fortitude.”

  Emily blew out a tense breath and her stomach sank. The men had been absent all day. Was her afternoon calm simply because the house was empty? Oh dear. If what Sibila said was true, they would request she do things for them as Adam had with Sibila in the barn. Adam. He was worth her figuring out a way to stay here. She needed a plan, some way to keep her dream intact, all while working in this house of sin. She needed all the nerve she could get to fend for herself in this place.

  The corner of Miss Wicking’s mouth quirked up, and she winked.

  Emily frowned and stared at Miss Wicking. She was cheery enough, all alone here in the kitchen, cooking away, seemingly without a fret in the world.

  She could use a bit of wine to calm her beating heart. Emily reached out and grasped a piece of soft white cheese with green flecks in it. “Thank you, Miss Wicking.” She put a bit of the cheese to her mouth, than grasped the cup of wine, raised it to her lips and swallowed a good mouthful.

  The strong fruit flavor mixed with the creamy cheese soothed all the way down her gullet. “Mmmm.” That should ease her nerves and restore her wit. Well, maybe just one more sip. She raised the glass and swallowed once more.

  “Suggestive, isn’t it? Wine and cheese…there is nothing more provocative, not even a futter.” Miss Wicking smiled a smile so bright it sparked levity in her green eyes. “That should keep you in good
spirits for the rest of the afternoon. Get on now. Finish your chores so that dinner and the engagement festivities won’t be spoilt.”

  Emily smiled at Miss Wicking. An engagement…that could only mean there was some form of morals breathed into this house. “Engagement festivities?”

  “Yes, the master hopes to announce the eldest son Mr. Christon’s betrothal this weekend. He is speculating it shall be this night. Now shoo.”

  Emily nodded, hopeful her mind once again was making things concerning the Earl of Gregor worse than the truth. They had to be. For who would be debauched enough to allow everyone in his household to morally commit suicide in the eyes of society? The Earl of Gregor would have to be a warlock himself to allow that kind of shame to befall him, in truth.

  She turned and rushed into the main servant’s hall. Three paces down, she turned up the stairs to the second set of landings. Slowly, she opened the door onto the hall. She stepped into the corridor which led down to the master’s sons’ rooms. A dry warmth radiated about her.

  This hall was her favorite part of the house so far. Elaborate blue and green tapestry lined the arched walls from mid-molding to the ceiling on the left side. The side to her right was a series of windows from floor to ceiling. The sunlight cut through the windows and warmed the entire space. It was extraordinary.

  She stopped and stared out at the view of the back lawn and the grounds to the forest edge. A man stood on the lawn, staring off into the distance as if awaiting some long-lost love. In his high-buttoned, blue-and-grey striped coat and grey trousers, he appeared a fashion plate she had seen on occasion while in town. His black hair glistened in the late afternoon sun. He turned his head and glanced up at the windows, then nodded at her with pursed lips.

  Goodness, what was she doing? She had work to do and here she dallied as if leisure was the way of her day. She turned and stepped into the first room on the left in search of Sibila.

  She glanced around the crimson room. The clean white satin sheets were fitted and the windows were closed, but no Sibila. Emily stepped back into the hall and walked down to the next bedchamber. Gold tapestry hung on the walls, and a rich dark brown curtain covered the windows. Here too the bed was fitted with new crisp linens.