Masque: A Hellfire Club Erotique
Page 6
Sebastian tightened the reins on his control; she was still so new to this, her body unaccustomed to making love with one man, let alone two. He needed to take this slow, ensure she enjoyed herself, not just accepted them.
He cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples already hard little peaks. Beneath Julien’s hands her body trembled, and when he slipped a finger into her she accepted him, hips arching. Sebastian swallowed, but no matter how he wanted her, how he wanted her and Julien, refused to rush. His hand shot out, holding Julien by the back of the neck.
His lover looked at him, and Sebastian knew he was hard and ready. Urging Julien onto his knees, Sebastian kissed Olivia, lifting her onto the bed. He sat her on the edge, spreading her legs wide for him. Julien quickly untied his trousers and took Sebastian’s cock into his mouth. Hissing at the feeling, at his lover’s wet eager mouth closing over him, Sebastian faltered for a brief moment.
Regaining control, Sebastian teased Olivia’s wet folds, circling her nub, slipping a finger into her and knowing he wanted to bury himself inside her. Julien took him deep into his throat and Sebastian thrust against his lover, once, twice, forgetting his vow to go slowly with Olivia and quickening the pace of his fingers.
With a growl, he stopped Julien. Kissing Olivia, Sebastian lay her down, tweaking her nipples sharply as he did so. He heard her gasp, knew she was ready. But he wouldn’t take her from behind, no matter how he wanted to. How he wanted to see both she and Julien, feel them moving together.
Julien stood next to him, cock thick and pulsing. Sebastian nodded to him, and the other man moved to the side table for the jar of oil. His lover’s hands were smooth and arousing on him and Sebastian hissed out a breath of need.
Turning Julien, he waited while the other man climbed onto the bed, kissing Olivia. His mouth trailed down her neck, over her luscious breasts to take one nipple into his mouth. He bit down on it, Sebastian could see Olivia arch into it, knew she found pleasure in the slight pain Julien offered.
Moving behind Julien, Sebastian entered him in one hard thrust. Julien gasped, pushed back hard. But Sebastian deliberately slowed, not wanting to hurt Olivia, not wanting to bruise her no doubt already sore body.
Biting hard on Julien’s neck, Sebastian whispered, “Take her.”
Julien shuddered and slowly entered her. Olivia opened her eyes, and watched him over Julien’s shoulder. Sore though she might be, she thrust her hips up and took Julien deeper into her body.
His control spiraled away from him. Sebastian desperately tried to hold onto it, but it was no use. Olivia cried out as her orgasm overtook her, and when Julien continued to move within her, brought her body to another climax that had her sobbing his name, Sebastian moved harder.
Julien groaned, withdrawing from Olivia as he, too, climaxed. Still Sebastian moved, taking Julien, watching Olivia. When he climaxed, it was Olivia’s name on his lips.
Sebastian covered them with the blankets and gathered his lovers to him while he slept. He didn’t know what woke him, only that hours had passed. He’d never slept so soundly in his life and tonight of all nights wasn’t the time to start.
They left today.
“Julien,” he snapped, annoyed with himself for not being more careful.
Instantly Julien woke and seemed to understand what had happened. If they missed this caravan, this chance to leave, there wasn’t another. Not unless they could manage to bribe their way into a later party, but Sebastian didn’t want to take the chance.
“Olivia,” he whispered into her ear, kissing her awake. “Olivia wake up, we’re leaving today.”
She blinked awake then rose with a start, nodding her understanding.
It didn’t take them long to dress and pack what few things they planned to take with them. Olivia looked around but Sebastian knew she didn’t see the room, rather her memory of Louise. He hadn’t seen the poniard again but knew it had to be on her person. He’d seen what she’d packed and knew it didn’t hide among those few items.
Her cloak? Gown? Either way it didn’t matter; she thought she’d hidden it from him, that she had fooled him, but he knew her need for revenge. Shared it.
They left their belongings in Sebastian’s rooms before heading for the meeting rooms where they were to receive their final instructions for the journey. Sebastian itched to be on their way, gone from these catacombs, from the constant danger Paris held. Olivia’s arrival had given him a new reason to leave.
Shouting could be heard from the rooms, and he quickened his pace. Bribes were far too easily exchanged in there and he didn’t want their position in this morning’s caravan displaced.
Disorder marked every corner of the room. He shoved his way forward, confident Julien would protect Olivia as they followed behind. This was far too important for them not to stay together. Sebastian scowled at a bejeweled woman arguing heatedly with the patroness behind a second desk, where they were to receive their final instructions.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Julien suddenly pull Olivia tight against him. For a heartbeat, Sebastian thought it was to protect her from the crush, and turned. Olivia twisted her neck awkwardly and looked up at Julien with confusion. He held her so tightly to him, Sebastian wondered if she could breathe.
But Julien didn’t look as if he merely wished to keep her close. His dark gaze fixed across the room on a tall, distinguished man dressed all in black.
Sebastian jerked his head from the man back to Julien, who met his gaze.
“Rousseau.”
He shouldn’t have said it aloud, knew that the moment the words escaped his lips. Damn. She didn’t know who he was, had no idea what Rousseau looked like. Had Olivia heard above the noise in the room?
Whether she had or not, she seemed to understand. She tried to break free from Julien’s hold but the other man held her tight.
“You bastard!” she screamed, still struggling in Julien’s arms. “You murdering bastard!”
The room fell into unnatural silence as all eyes riveted to Olivia.
Chapter Eight
Olivia knew the entire room watched her but didn’t care. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears and she wondered if everyone staring at her could hear it. Only getting to Rousseau mattered now.
She didn’t want to hurt Julien, but needed out of his tightening grasp. If that meant biting and scratching him, so be it. She had to get free, take the poniard, Rousseau’s poniard, from her cloak and run it through his heart.
Julien wouldn’t let go and Olivia tried to ram an elbow into him, but he held her too securely. Suddenly Sebastian stood before her. He didn’t look at her, rather Rousseau. She calmed slightly and only then realized the tension in Julien. It wound him tight, a coiled predator ready to leap. Olivia tore her gaze from Rousseau and saw that same tension bunching Sebastian’s shoulders.
“De Courville.” Rousseau bowed slightly at Sebastian. “Is this child yours? You should control her better.” He sent a mocking sneer in her direction. “Perhaps a leash would prove handy.”
Sebastian stalked forward and Olivia watched as the crowd divided for him. She couldn’t see his face, but when Sebastian grabbed Rousseau by the neck and slammed him backwards, against the rock wall, she understood his anger.
“Did you kill Louise?” Sebastian demanded in a quietly menacing voice.
At least thirty feet separated her and Julien from Sebastian, but she could hear every word. No one in this room dared breathe.
“Yes.” Rousseau, not a small man, coldly met Sebastian’s eyes and pushed away the hand gripping his throat. “Our families have been at war for quite a long time. And now,” he said, gaze sweeping over the room to rest on Olivia, “it’s over.”
Seething, Olivia shook with shock. This was not over no matter what the lying, murdering bastard thought.
“It’s not over,” she snapped. “You should be the one to meet Madame Guillotine. You walked into our apartment and stabbed her.” Her voice broke but she forced he
rself to go on, refusing to show weakness before this crowd. Before Rousseau. “You killed an unarmed woman.”
Rousseau didn’t so much as look up at her. He flicked his fingers down the arm of his jacket and gazed steadily at Sebastian. But Olivia knew he heard her.
One of the organizers stood from behind a desk and loudly cleared his throat. The tall, portly man rounded the desk and placed himself between Sebastian and Rousseau. Olivia thought she recognized him as the man who greeted her that first night here, Bernard. With one shove, he separated Sebastian and Rousseau, who landed back against the wall with a rather satisfying thud.
“I’ll not have this,” the man shouted. His voice echoed across the still-silent room. “Not here,” he continued, now looking at the rest of the crowd. “Not today. I don’t care what your quarrel is; none of us do! But I warn you.”
Bernard glared about the room then looked from one man to the other. “If any violence breaks out on this journey, you’ll be stranded, left to your own devices. Other members will not be placed in jeopardy because of your argument.”
“This is more than an argument,” Sebastian spat. “This is about murder. He’s just confessed to killing another member—Louise Reynard.”
Bernard gazed at Sebastian then looked to where Olivia stood, silent and still in Julien’s unyielding grasp. She thought she saw sympathy, and perhaps grief in his eyes, but he shook his head.
“I’m sorry. Perhaps at another time, action could have been taken, but it’s far too late now. We’re in too precarious a position. The journey will begin within the hour.” Bernard looked from Rousseau to Olivia then back to Sebastian. “Deal with this in London, there’s not time for anything else.”
“I don’t care about the time or the journey,” Olivia said and began struggling again. Twisting in Julien’s arms she begged him. “Let me go!”
Julien rested his cheek on her head, and while he hadn’t loosened his hold on her, Olivia knew he softened. “No,” he said quietly. “I’ll not see you dead here today.”
Rousseau stepped around Bernard and bowed to Sebastian. “Comte, her family perpetrated a crime against me for which I’ve exacted retaliation. The child has nothing to do with their crimes.” He glanced at her, a brief acknowledgement nothing more. “She’ll not inherit the sins of her family. This feud has ended. It’s best for all of us that we exist in peace.”
Did he think that enough to placate her? Did he think that by not including her in her family’s so-called sins she’d forgive him? That she’d not kill him as he had her aunt.
“For the sake of us all,” Sebastian said calmly. “I’ll accept your truth. But I warn you—don’t come close to her. If you do, it won’t be her you need to worry about.” He stepped closer and even from this distance Olivia could see the cold promise in him. “It’ll be me. And I’ll exact many pounds of flesh in retaliation for Louise.”
To Olivia’s surprise, Rousseau gave Sebastian one short nod of agreement. “You’ll not see me again.” He bowed and backed away. “Thank you, Comte, for understanding.”
Rousseau’s gaze swept over the room, landed on her for a heartbeat, then settled on the exit. He walked steadily from out the archway. No one dared stop him, and several moments passed before the crowd moved again.
Olivia had stopped struggling. Julien continued to hold her but she barely realized that. Her entire being focused on Sebastian. On his betrayal.
Those still in the room gradually returned to their own business, occasionally glancing at her but never approaching. Julien said something, but Olivia didn’t hear him, couldn’t comprehend the words. All she saw was Sebastian. All she heard were his treacherous words.
“How?” she whispered, blood roaring in her ears, emotion closing her throat. “Why?”
Sebastian crossed the room, touched her arm. Her blood ran cold. Olivia jerked back, but Julien still didn’t release her.
“Give me a few moments,” he said in a low voice.
Olivia watched him, feeling detached from the scene, from the room. His gaze locked with hers but he said nothing further. He looked up at Julien and nodded once before turning back to Bernard, the seeming organizer of this barely controlled chaos. The throng let him pass, didn’t stand in his way. Unable to hear what they discussed, Olivia did see Bernard nod, eyes skimming over her as if unable to help himself.
Before the noise level in the room escalated, Sebastian nodded to Julien, who all but carried her, and the three of them left the room. She didn’t struggle, but let Julien do whatever he felt he needed to. Back in his and Sebastian’s rooms, door closed against eavesdroppers, he finally released her.
The moment he let her go, Olivia whirled at him and smacked him. His look of resignation surprised her but she immediately turned for Sebastian. Before her palm could connect with his cheek, Sebastian caught her wrist. It wasn’t painful, but proved his point. Jerking her wrist free, Olivia stumbled a step backwards.
“You should have let me handle him,” Olivia snarled at both men. “It wasn’t your place to stop me.”
“It was entirely my place,” Julien contradicted, voice as rigid as his stance. “And will be in the future. I won’t allow you to harm yourself.”
“Simply because I bedded you,” Olivia shot back, “doesn’t give you the right to dictate what I do with my life.”
Abruptly Sebastian moved beside her. He didn’t touch her, but she knew he wanted to. Anger flared in his bright blue eyes and his jaw clenched. “Enough!” he said, hand slashing through the air.
“Julien did the right thing in restraining you. And I did the correct thing in accepting Rousseau’s truce. I care nothing for Rousseau’s life; except to see it extinguished in the very near future.” He stepped closer then, and Olivia felt Julien behind her. “You and Julien are all I care for. This is not about revenge—not at this moment. This is about survival for all of us.”
“Louise was all I had left and that bastard…” she trailed off and shook her head, regaining a measure of control. “I don’t care about my own life. Let me leave this room and find him so I can end this now. Neither of you need trouble yourself with me any further.”
Even as she spoke the words, Olivia didn’t want to leave them. In the short time they’d been together, she’d grown to care for them beyond what she believed possible. But she needed to revenge her aunt’s murder.
Behind her, Julien’s hands cupped her shoulders. “I won’t let you go.”
Sebastian’s hand caught her chin and his blue gaze burned into hers. “Once you’re safe, I swear we’ll find him and dispatch him to hell.”
“You needn’t taint your hands with his blood,” Olivia insisted. “Allow me to leave this room and find him now and I’ll be done with it.”
Sebastian grabbed her arms and he shook her once. “It won’t end. If you find him you’ll be dead and he’ll still breathe. Do you really believe you’ll catch him unawares? That you’ll slip a damned dagger into his back and mete out your justice with one swift strike? You won’t.”
His eyes blazed with passion, his hands holding her in an immovable grip. But his voice caught her—anger yes, his rage at Rousseau had not diminished because of the so-called truce they’d made. Just beneath that anger she heard his fear and worry. And those emotions were entirely for her.
“He’ll stop you before you get that close and will not hesitate to take you away from us,” Sebastian continued harshly. “I won’t have that. Be smart, Olivia. Understand that we must trap him, take him by surprise. Then and only then can we strike him down like the vermin he is.”
She shook. Olivia didn’t know when that started or when the tears began to fall, but knew her control shattered. Sebastian’s hands gentled on her, and Julien kissed her neck, his solid warmth reassuring.
She sank into Sebastian’s shoulder and felt Julien rub her back. Grief suffocated her and she knew it. It was unreasonable and dangerous, her desire to kill Rousseau where he stood. She should be g
rateful that her lovers stopped her, not angry with them.
Oh how she wished things were different. That Louise had never died. That Rousseau had never existed. But in this time, with the danger surrounding them, hers was a foolish wish. She nodded her acquiesce against Sebastian’s shoulder. He kissed her temple, a soft grazing touch.
They held her for long, long moments, and she lost track of time, ensconced in the warm comfort of her lovers. Eventually Julien pulled back, one final kiss to her bare shoulder.
“We must leave,” he said. Turning her, he wiped her cheeks free of tears. “Stay near one of us at all times.”
Julien turned to gather their satchels, gray unassuming bags that looked like a thousand others used by French peasants. Shaking herself free of Sebastian’s hold, Olivia took a moment to compose herself. There were police spies and the National Police of France to fool if they wanted to get through the city gates, and she couldn’t afford to be the reason they were stopped.
Olivia took a moment to smooth her gown, finer than she had grown accustomed to over the last years, but a far cry from those she once wore. As a wine merchant’s wife, the simple, unadorned gown, with its tattered hem, looked perfect.
Sebastian guided her out the door, though she felt perfectly capable of walking herself. Apparently they were taking her protection as seriously as they claimed. Emotion moved through her, warm and soothing, opening some part within her Olivia never knew existed.
Beside her, Julien walked along the corridor, smooth and confident. His dress looked the part of a moderately influential wine merchant but looked all wrong with his strong self-assurance. On the other hand, Sebastian looked every inch the distinguished uncle.
They stepped into the sunlight and it blinded her. Blinking rapidly, she hadn’t realized how long she’d been away from real light until then. Despite the icy winter wind blowing across the alleyway, the weak December sunlight felt heavenly on her face. Olivia took a moment to revel in it, raising her face to the meager rays.