House of Sin

by Lacy Danes

  Take a breath, Adam. She will leave eventually with her reference. Until then… Slow your time and savor her like a lion savors his catch for days.

  Emily’s eyelids lowered, as if somehow not seeing him made this act acceptable to her. She slowly moved her hands to the sides of her thighs and gathered up her skirts, pulling them up to pool in her lap.

  Adam slid his chair smoothly back from the table and to the side so that he faced her.

  Her eyes fluttered open at his movement, and she stared at the large bulge in his lap.

  He reached out and tugged on her chair, scraping it along the floor as if it, too, resisted this moment, but wanted it all the same.

  She faced him, knees to knees. The ivory white of her stockinged legs and doorknob-shaped kneecaps brushed against his. Emily’s lashes closed over her deep, longing eyes, blocking off the intensity she so openly showed in them. She would do what he asked because she wanted him.

  A smile curved his lips. She was delicious. “Pull it higher, Miss Grey. Show me how damp those curls are.”

  She wiggled her bottom and at the same time lifted the material up the soft flesh of her thighs to the dark brown curls of her cunny mound.

  “Slide your thighs apart. I want to see your lips through the slit in your drawers.” He studied her face as her teeth grabbed the soft flesh of her lower lip as if it gave her fortitude.

  Her thighs slid silently apart, and she trembled.

  What a good girl. His smile broadened and he leaned in. His calm breath mingled with her jagged puffs. “You are delightful, Miss Grey.” Soft, petal-red colored her cheeks as if his words were a brush and he the artist of her desire.

  “I want to pleasure you now, Miss Grey.” His fingers busily worked on the buttons to his pants, and he pulled the flap back, knowing full well what she would assume he meant with those words.

  Settling back in his chair, he shifted his hips and pulled the fabric down until it caught where it tucked into his boots. His bare bottom pressed against the hard wood of the chair, and his cock stood straight from his curls.

  At the sound of his motions, Miss Grey’s gaze swung to his cock, one thought clearly visible in her eyes: his cock in her hands.

  He simply needed to get her to feel safe enough with him to make the step on her own. For now, he would do all else to titillate her.

  “I will not take you until you ask, Miss Grey. I want to feel your wet cunt on my bare thigh. Stand up. Take off your skirts and straddle my leg.”

  Miss Grey glanced with hesitation around the room. She swallowed hard. Adam didn’t take his gaze off of her. “Miss Grey.”

  She pushed to her feet, her skirts falling in a swoosh back down her legs and against his. Her hands trembled as her thin fingers rushed to unbutton the skirt from her waist. The material fell, and she stood in a sea of brown waves. He raised his hand slowly as he did when soothing a skittish mare. His fingers touched her still-covered hip. Her aroused heat sucked at his fingers, pulling his mind deeper into her desire.

  “Touch me as you straddle me…anywhere you wish.” He gently squeezed the flesh and bone of her hip. Fisting the thin cotton lawn of her petticoat in his other hand, he yanked.

  The button gave way with a pop.

  She gasped and stared down at his hand wrapped about the cottony white. Her hands moved as if to cover her drawers in embarrassment. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she stilled them.

  He grinned. Damn, he loved that reaction. Innocence, perfection and shock all in one. He unfurled his fingers, and the garment fell into the rippling fabric of her skirt, creating foam on the crest of the brown waves he would teach her to swim upon. His cock pulsed and his throat tightened.

  She stepped toward him clad only in her drawers. Grasping his shoulders, she lifted her slender right leg and stepped over his left bare thigh. Her alabaster skin next to his pale leg blended in a blur, joining them in his mind. Enough, Adam, the wine has you spouting horrid poetry in your head! He shook his head to rid the wine-induced sappy image and trailed his fingers up the outside of her legs to her waist.

  Her chest labored in and out, struggling against her stays.

  Pinching the tape to her drawers, she pulled. In an unraveling of cotton, the front of the garment fell open, exposing her glossy cinnamon curls and blooming lips below. Her flesh quivered beneath his touch.

  “Mmmmm.” He slid his left hand onto the bare skin of her hip and steadied her as his right fingers splayed across the smooth, flat skin of her alabaster stomach.

  The cane lines that marked his hand and the roughness of his work-torn skin shone a drastic contrast. She was unsullied. He was sin. He flexed his fingers in her pureness as if doing so sanctified him.

  Inching lower, he closed his eyes to savor the coarseness of her hair. The springy curls scrolled around his fingertips and snaked a deep yearning up his arm that writhed down his spine to his bollocks. He increased the pressure of his touch, needing to hear her voice, her breath, any sound of her pleasure. He dipped his fingers down the slit at her apex.

  The humidness of her folds licked at his fingertips, begging him to play, feed and lose himself in her divineness. He tapped his finger once against the slick skin of her opening.

  Her breath hitched, and what was left of the room completely faded away on her inspiration.

  This frail, beautiful bird of a woman he held captured in the palm of his hand. In this moment, she mattered and no one else.

  He curled his finger, gently stroking the outside of her oiled folds. She arched her head back and whimpered, thighs quivering against his.

  A thrill raced down his neck and pulled, twitching his cock. “Mmmm.” He pushed down on her hip, urging her to sit on his hand and thigh.

  She did without a word. Her fingers dug tightly into his shoulder.

  “Remember what I told you in the hall, Miss Grey?” Her eyes fluttered open. The black centers huge with arousal, they shone like pools of ebony water at night. “Miss Grey.”

  “Yes… Tone,” she said in a husky voice that plucked the strings on the back of his neck.

  “Good.” He pulled his hand completely from her watering cunt and laid it on his thigh between them. “Rock your hips back and forth.”

  Her hips moved, and the wetness of her opening smooshed against his thigh.

  God, she was wet, as any wanton dove he had taken in this house…but this was different. She was different. Or was it the wine?

  He closed his eyes and simply listened to the sounds of her breath hitch with each rock of her hips. The hard garnet of her sex smeared along his skin.

  He reached for her hips, wanting contact with her. She moaned and pressed down. The opening of her cunt suctioned against his thigh as if trying to devour his flesh. Or was it his sanity?

  His eyes fluttered open to find her head tossed back, lost in pure bliss as her primal need for pleasure took her. Her mouth open, she moaned deep, loud and long.

  Adam licked his lips and took in every detail of her in rapture. Her slit-open lips. Her flared nostrils. The arch of her neck, and the way her back bowed as he tightened his grip on her hips.

  Her chest heaved. Her hands flinched and released, then regrasped his shoulders for purchase. Her white belly glimmered with the perspiration of her effort. The heat on his leg grew maddening. He stared at the glistening sheen as she slid back. He groaned. His cock, purple-red, ached to be his leg.

  Hands wrapped about his cock hard, and sensation exploded through his bottom cheeks. He glanced down to see Sibila crouched beneath the table. Her hands glided up his cock to the tip. She smiled a harpy’s smile.

  He stiffened, wanting to tell her to leave him alone, that this moment was all about Miss Grey.

  Miss Grey whimpered and placed her head against his shoulder. She rocked her hips, more determined to find release. The last thing he wanted was to break her focus by drawing attention to Sibila’s presence.

  Sibila’s fingers clutched his sack, and
she rolled his marbles around in the skin. Her lips came down on his crown.

  Oh…damn! He clenched his teeth and thrust his hips up into her warm and wet mouth. He moaned, and he dug his fingers into Miss Grey’s hipbone harshly.

  Sibila sucked his cock deep into her depths. His hips rocked up and up… Closing his eyes, he imagined his prick popping into Miss Grey’s hole. He lost control. The rhythm of Miss Grey’s dance ground against his nerves in a delightful procession. His cock slipped in and out of Sibila’s mouth, waltzing the same tune.

  Sibila’s tongue circled his crown and then sucked him deep.

  Miss Grey’s body quivered, and she cried out as her body jerked and jerked against him. She clutched him as if her life depended on his solidity. Her hot breath puffed in humid bliss against his neck. She stilled against him.

  Sibila’s head bobbed up and down faster, her lips popping up over his crown as her tongue lapped at him. His sac tightened and his legs jerked, nearing the bliss that would come in a downfall. He wrapped his arms around Miss Grey, molding her upper body to his.

  Miss Grey’s lips kissed his neck and her tongue licked up to his ear.

  Sparks shot down to his sac, and he splintered in erotic delight. He cried out, his sac pulsing his seed deep into Sibila’s throat.

  Miss Grey sucked his earlobe into her mouth, then licked up to the cup. She laid her head on his shoulder, and her fingers gently played with the fabric at the back of his collar. Miss Grey rooted her nose into his neck, and her mouth moved. The unspoken words, “Thank you”, pressed to his skin and slid up between them.

  Her apology to him. His to her. Sibila and the others in the room simply disappeared.

  Chapter Seven

  Emily pulled her head from Adam’s shoulder. She’d never felt so relaxed and peaceful in all her life. Something had happened here in this room. Something she was afraid to admit. Adam had touched her in a more intimate, non-futtering way that tugged at her heart. Adam. The man would surely hurt her. He futtered every woman here. Yet there was something…something so familiar about what had happened this night.

  She gazed at him, taking in his weary face. She wanted to kiss him. And why not? She had already done so much more.

  She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. His lips parted and eagerly moved in strong presses against hers. She moaned into him. Their tongues touched and then his swept into her mouth and twined, tasting of wine. He stole her breath. She gently sucked his lower lip into her mouth and pinched the plump flesh between her teeth. He growled. She released his lip and thrust her tongue into his moistness, then flicked the smooth surface of his teeth. Her head spun. She’d enjoyed what she’d just experienced, though this was so much more. She wanted only him. There was no doubt now.

  She pulled her lips from his. “Adam.”

  He slipped out his tongue and wet his lips as if savoring that taste of her moisture. “Yes, Miss Grey.”

  “I want more. More with you.” Heat crept up her body. She had actually said the words aloud.

  His lips turned up and he chuckled. “All right.” His green eyes met hers, and her stomach flipped.

  She smiled back. “It was silly of me to say.”

  “No…” His hand rose and tugged a loose strand of her hair, sending pinpricks straight down to her pulsing flesh. “I want more too.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. He settled his hand on her thighs. She traced the valleys between his fingers, rubbing where they pressed together. She wanted to know more about him, about the little things that were so seldom shared, but she needed to start someplace more broad. “How did you come to work here at Portage Place?” She lazily continued to trace his fingers.

  He tilted his head to the side, and the emotion in his eyes slid behind a cloud of uncertainty. He cast his gaze down to her fingers tracing his on her right thigh. “I have always loved working with animals. My mother knew the master, so this seemed a natural fit.”

  “Did you know about how the house was before you came here?”

  “No. I had a false understanding based on gossip and rumor, but the reality was more than what I’d heard.” His brow pinched, causing her stomach to churn with unease. “At first I felt free here. Now those same freedoms cage me.” His deep emerald eyes stared up at her with an intensity that seared straight to her gut. “This place is my home now. I cannot change that. Though I do miss…little things.” His fingers clenched on her thigh. “Genuine caring and touching. No one cares here.”

  Emily frowned at the sadness in his voice. She would care for him. Had already begun to. Maybe, just maybe, they could offer each other something in this mad house. Something that could grow.

  A yawn burst passed her lips, and she giggled.

  Those more intense conversations would have to wait for another day. Exhaustion anchored deep in her bones. “Time to retire, I fear. It has been a long day.” She glanced around the room at the others engaged in intimate caresses and whispers.

  “I know.” He held out his hand to her as if helping her from a carriage instead of his thigh.

  Her fingers wrapped about his, and she pushed to standing on shaking legs. “Until tomorrow.” She pulled up her drawers and tied them about her waist, then bent and scooped up her skirts.

  Adam wiggled his hips, pulled up his trousers and buttoned them. “Tomorrow will be just as trying as today, Miss Grey. Get your rest and put something in front of your door.” He grasped her about the waist once more and pulled her to him. He kissed her corseted waist and turned his head to the side. His ruddy hair brushed in long stokes to the undersides of her bust. She fingered the short strands.

  “Go, Miss Grey. Before I turn total dog and decide to be indecent.” He pulled his head from her and dropped his hands from her waist.

  “Sleep well, Adam.” She left him sitting in the same chair she had ridden him to oblivion on and walked down the length of the dining table and out into the kitchen. She stared out into the dark servant’s hall. She would surely trip up the steps if she didn’t have a candle. Spinning back on her boot heel, she took two steps toward the dining hall.

  “Truly, Adam.” Sibila’s voice rang heavy.

  “Don’t, Sibila.” Adam’s tone was hard.

  They sounded like two lovers quarreling, voices filled with emotion and angst. She stilled, pressed her back up against the kitchen wall, and strained to make out the impassioned words.

  “Be a pleasure tonight, Adam. Don’t bore me.”

  “What do you think you know about me? Nothing. You know not one whit.”

  “I know more than you think, and I know how you have the ability to make a woman forget herself for awhile.”

  Adam was silent, then sucked in his breath as if in pleasure.

  Sibila laughed. “See? I shall get my peace before I sleep.”

  There was another long pause.

  “No. I won’t. She means…something to me.”

  Sibila laughed. “I do so adore you, but you know of nothing but what this house holds for you. I do know more…and you will use those good hands on more than just the beasts.”

  Adam laughed a strained laugh. Or was that genuine? A chill raced Emily’s spine. Had Sibila and Adam once been in love? Were they still? Emily turned silently back away from the kitchen without her candle and felt her way along the wall to the stairway.

  Deep inside, her stomach pinched. They were lovers. She had been a part of that today in the barn.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. No. Some great emotion in their words twisted in her in a most uncomfortable way. What was it?

  She frowned and ascended the stairs in blackness that mirrored her inner turmoil. She cared for Adam. She had fallen for him from the moment she saw him. He had shown her his inner self, and she respected his protection of her. Yet Sibila… Sibila had also shown her nothing but kindness. How did she fit into something they shared here at this house?

  She shook her head. She couldn’t fathom them sharing anything be
yond futter. But she wanted more. More than empty pleasure. She wanted what Adam had alluded to in the dining hall.

  Caring.

  Love.

  She reached the top of the stairs. One man. One woman.

  Would Adam and Sibila be doing the act in her room later tonight? She sighed. She was one too many women. Sleep would elude her with that going on beside her. She would have to do as Adam suggested. Block the door, or…

  Hours later, Emily rolled over in the dark and floated in the soft cushion of her mattress. She reached out and found no one in bed besides her. Sibila had yet to return from doing whatever it was she was about. Until she did, Emily could not block the door. Emily rolled back onto her side, closed her eyes and drifted off to a blissful dream of her as the heroine in one of the penny sheets and Adam as the handsome hero who whisked her off her feet and into wedded passionate bliss.

  The mattress beside her depressed, and warm skin pressed to her side. Her nightdress fluttered up her stomach to expose her hips and breasts, then pooled about her neck. How had that happened? She moved her hands to pull the cotton cloth back down, but she could not move them. They were held by a large male hand to the mattress. Her eyes shot open. Ink black resided around her.

  “It is too bad you can’t be touched. I am quite in need, and Sibila seems to have disappeared.”

  Whose voice was that? Her eyes widened and her heart pounded in her ears. She bit her lip. Please let me be dreaming… She lay absolutely still. He shifted his leg over the top of her left one and pulled, dragging her legs apart. The short, furry hairs on his leg rasped against her skin. She shifted. He ground his stiff erection against her thigh. Gracious. He meant to diddle her.

  “I know you are awake.”

  Stay still, Emily. She swallowed and held her breath anyway.