Not that he didn’t enjoy corrupting his angel. He most definitely did. And she found satisfaction and pleasure in his deviant practices.
When they reached the London docks she frowned, the first he’d seen on her face in days. “What is it?” he asked.
She bit her lip and kept her gaze on the shore. “I’m very nervous. Perhaps Madame de Laval will be…dissatisfied with me.”
Perry gripped her arm and turned her to face him. “No one could be dissatisfied with you, love.”
Still, she was fidgety as they traveled in the carriage to Madam’s house. Both Madame de Laval and Cyrus met them at the door, hugging them both.
After giving them a very abbreviated account of their adventures and discussing the dull gossip of the ton, a pregnant silence filled the drawing room.
Cyrus and Louise stared at Sarah while she stared at her teacup. Perry reached over and took the cup away. “It’s time, Sarah.”
“Perhaps she is too fatigued from the trip,” Louise said gently.
Sarah raised her head. “Oh no, Madame. I am just—” she stopped and pressed her lips together.
Louise reached out and touched Sarah’s knee. “What is it, ma petite?”
“I’m just very nervous,” Sarah said, so low that Perry barely heard her.
Louise smiled. “You will do what Perry tells you to do, oui?”
“And you. Whatever you tell me to do,” Sarah said and twisted her hands together.
“Yes,” Madame said. “Perry, you are very lucky.”
Didn’t he know it. He rose and took Sarah’s hand. “Come with me, love.”
The four of them negotiated the hallways with Madam de Laval in the lead. She led them to a large room big enough to be a ballroom. In fact there were mirrors on two of the walls reflecting everything. Instead of a large open space for dancing, there were posts and saddles much like in the rooms at Marcus’ pleasure house and Wolford House.
Sarah trembled, her hand fluttering in Perry’s. Cyrus, without an order from Louise, stripped and kneeled at her feet. Louise removed her dress, revealing a corset and stockings beneath it.
“Sarah, take off your clothes,” Perry ordered.
“Will you—?” Sarah whispered to him.
“Will I what?”
She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment and then said, “Will you tear my clothes from me as the wolf? I have dreamed—” she got no further before he completely lost his mind.
His transformation, no longer painful since his acceptance of it, was now quick. Animal instincts rose and he captured his mate in his extended claws. Man and beast were in accord, shredding the clothes from her, careful only to scrape her skin, not to hurt her.
Her excited gasp and resulting moan was too much. The wolf howled in triumph, pressing her to the floor to bite the inside of her thigh, reaffirming the mark that had begun it all. The beast receded and the man lifted his wife to a bench in the center of the room.
Slowly, methodically, he tied her to the bench with a rough bolt of rope. Facedown, her body quivering, she remained still as he knotted her hands together behind her back at the spot where her spine met her arse. He bound her ankles to the legs of the bench. The surface was high enough that it presented her round, full arse to him to fuck or spank. He left enough room to reveal her wet, glistening cunt so he could fuck that too. Her tits were mashed against the surface and she moaned.
“Your fantasy is to be fucked in every way, helpless, brought to orgasm again and again. We are going to do that.” Perry beckoned to Louise and Cyrus.
“Such a nice display,” Louise murmured. She stroked her fingers over Sarah’s spine and the side of her breast. “How does she taste, Perry?”
“She is yours to sample, Mistress,” Perry said in a rough voice.
“Cyrus, on your back here,” Louise ordered. Sarah couldn’t see what they were doing and it drove her insane.
Perry strode to stand in front of her, his gaze on the two at her back. “You should see them, love. Cyrus is on his back just below your dripping pussy and Mistress Louise has placed her knees on his chest.” Perry’s cock bulged in his pants and Sarah focused on it, mouth watering, his words making her groan. “She’s going to taste your cunt, make you come.”
“Please, Master,” Sarah moaned. “Let me suck you.”
“No. Be good.”
When Madame de Laval’s tongue slid over Sarah’s slit, she jerked in her restraints. Pleasure whirled out of control as Mistress Louise licked and tasted Sarah’s cream. It was different from when Perry licked her. The woman flicked over Sarah’s hard nub above her pussy and Sarah screamed. Faster and faster, Mistress Louise drove Sarah higher and higher until she couldn’t breathe.
Then Mistress Louise slid two fingers inside her slick channel and thrust back and forth. Sarah shouted as she careened over the edge and whimpered as the other woman kept driving her to more. When Mistress Louise hummed in approval at Sarah’s release, the vibrations made Sarah gasp.
“She is delicious,” Mistress Louise said in a husky voice.
“So are you,” Cyrus’ muffled voice reached Sarah’s ears. Apparently Cyrus had his face buried between Mistress Louise’s legs. Sarah longed to see it.
Perry dropped his trousers and stroked his cock. “Do it again, Louise. I could come all over her when you do that.”
The woman obliged and Sarah thrust helplessly against Mistress Louise’s hungry mouth. Sarah stared at Perry’s hand, which stroked his cock as Mistress Louise drove her toward another orgasm. When she reached the pinnacle she no longer knew what she was saying.
“Come on me, Master. Mark me. Fuck me. Please!” Sarah screamed as her release swamped her.
As she shuddered and shook coming down, Perry slowed the strokes of his hand. “She is talkative, Cyrus. With your Mistress’s permission perhaps you can keep her quiet.”
Apparently Mistress Louise assented, because he stood in front of her, his cock huge and ready.
Perry glanced behind Sarah. “Mistress?”
Mistress Louise appeared before Sarah and met her gaze. She climbed on top of Sarah and Sarah wondered what they were going to do to her next.
Perry had gone out of Sarah’s sight but she sensed him behind her and arched toward him when his hand cupped her arse. Madame de Laval lay flat, her back against Sarah’s, the juncture of her thighs at Sarah’s neck. Cyrus stepped forward and his cock slid over her lips.
“Suck him, Sarah. Do it.” Perry’s voice was rough and hard.
She opened her mouth and Cyrus eased his hard length to the back of her throat. Tied, immobile, helpless, she could only receive what Cyrus gave her. It made her wet and needy. Every fiber of her being longed for Perry to touch her and drive her over the edge.
Cyrus pressed forward, his body plastered to Sarah’s forehead. What was he doing? Madame de Laval’s moan of pleasure and the shift of her body on Sarah’s back was the answer. He was pleasuring the Frenchwoman on top of Sarah while Sarah sucked his cock.
That knowledge made her pussy clench and she groaned.
“Take all of him,” Perry demanded.
Madame de Laval’s moans were punctuated by her writhing body on Sarah’s back, the tickling strands of her hair on Sarah’s arse and the grip of the woman’s hands on Sarah’s flesh. Whatever Cyrus was doing was driving Madam Laval to a pinnacle of pleasure.
When the Frenchwoman cried out, Cy’s muffled growl confirmed Sarah’s erotic thought—that Cy was licking the woman’s cunt and making her climax with his mouth as he thrust his dick into hers.
It made her nipples tighten and her pussy throb for relief. But Perry was wicked and cruel, as he only slid the head of his cock along her slit. She desperately wanted him to thrust deep inside her but he teased her, tormented her.
Cy’s movements grew frantic as Madame de Laval screamed with pleasure again. Sarah expected him to stream his cum down her throat but he pulled his cock out of her mouth and lifted Madame de Lav
al off Sarah’s back.
In a show of impressive strength, Cy cradled Madame de Laval, her legs wrapped around his waist, and turned her to the wall. He slammed his mouth onto hers and drove his cock deep inside her waiting pussy.
The sight of their passion only made Sarah more aroused. She moaned and shifted her hips, trying to find relief, but her restraints kept her still.
Perry leaned over her, his hard length pressed against her arse. “Do you want me to fuck you like that? Do you want it deep and fast?”
“Perry,” she groaned.
He gripped her hair and yanked her head around to meet his gaze. The burning desire in his face made her pulse leap. “Answer me. Do you want that?”
Madame de Laval’s cries and Cy’s grunts filled Sarah’s ears. Yes, she wanted that hot, demanding sex. But she wanted so much more.
“No.” She put every ounce of emotion into her gaze, locked with his. His grip in her hair loosened and he was going to withdraw. “I want that and something else.”
Now she had his undivided attention, his intense gray eyes focused solely on her face. She took a deep breath. “I want a happy ending.”
His fingers tightened, causing tingling in her scalp. “Forever, then.”
“Yes,” she said loudly. “Forever.”
“Until death do us part?”
“Not even then,” she stated. Nothing could separate them. Tied by blood, tested by fire and connected by so many things, death would not be the end for them. She knew it.
“Sarah,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Take me, Master. I belong to you.” The words were barely out of her mouth when he plundered her lips with his. The searing kiss was everything she’d hoped.
Without breaking that contact he slid his cock inside her pussy and moaned against her mouth. As he thrust deeper, his hand tangled in her hair controlled her head and kept their lips sealed together.
The friction of the rope, his cock in her willing pussy and his hard body against hers created fire all along her nerves. Sweat made them both slick as he drove his cock harder and harder, filling her. She screamed, her orgasm exploding, her cunt tightening around him.
He roared as he came, his release triggering an extension of her pleasure. She was filled with him, riding a wave of intensity that she knew would never die. She loved him so much.
“Perry,” she whispered.
He was plastered against her, his hot breath in her ear, his fingers still clenched around her hips. She was used, filled, so happy.
“Sarah,” he murmured, and kissed the back of her neck. He extended his hand and his claws appeared. He ripped through the rope to free her and turned her onto her back. She was boneless, floating.
He pulled her up and pressed her to her knees. “Suck me. I want to fuck you again.”
She gazed up at him, her eyes half-closed, her heart full. “Yes, Master.”
Before she could obey him he tipped her chin, bent down and kissed her, his heart and soul bared to her. His voice was hoarse with emotion. “I love you. I’m going to spend all night showing you.”
She already knew he loved her, but she wasn’t going to complain if he wanted to prove it to her again.
About Jennifer Leeland
Once upon a time, there was a little girl…
I loved Harlequin romances when I was little and used to sneak them from my mother’s bookshelf. But my father influenced me with Agatha Christie, Ngiao Marsh and Arthur Conan Doyle. I always loved to write, but never thought about becoming an author. In 2003, a profound experience changed that. My mother showed me a manuscript written by my father. No one had ever seen it. No agent. No editor. No one. He died in 2002, never realizing his dream to be a published author.
I wondered if that would be my fate. Would my family come across my attempts at storytelling and shake their heads in pity? I vowed that I would at least try.
I love reading romance, especially erotic romance, and in 2006, I decided to take a shot at it. It turned out that writing erotic romance was as much fun as reading it. The more I write, the further I want to go. It has been a fabulous journey creating new worlds and exploring new emotions. I have a special relationship with my characters, who both annoy me and inspire me.
I live with a Redneck, who loves to brainstorm with me on occasion, and my two dirt-faced okie kids in the Northern California boonies. And I write all my love scenes with Thomas the Tank Engine in the background.
Jennifer welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Jennifer Leeland
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Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Witch of Arundale Hall
ISBN 9781419992520
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Witch of Arundale Hall Copyright © 2014 Jennifer Leeland
Edited by Rebecca Hill
Cover design by Kendra Egert
Cover photography by Shutterstock
Electronic book publication August 2014
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