Masque: A Hellfire Club Erotique

by Reed, Kristabel

  The cart they stopped before looked utterly authentic. Wine barrels were stacked in the back, along with several brown paper packages tied with string.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” Julien asked, helping her onto the cart’s seat. “Even down to several packages a wife would have bought during a trip to Paris.”

  She looked at him but then nodded. It made sense; why would she have accompanied her husband and his uncle into Paris except to shop? She glanced at Sebastian, who climbed atop the second cart, and wondered what else the Hellfire Club had seen to in this elaborate ruse. It took only moments for them to ready the horses and prepare to leave.

  Dressed as a peasant, Bernard stood at the mouth of the alleyway. He looked half frozen in the wind, but waved them forward. How long had he stood out here? How many other carts had he seen to this day alone?

  Impressed with the level of administration the Hellfire Club possessed, Olivia nodded cordially to him as they passed. Was he to join them in this caravan? Without the finery he wore in the Club, with his hair no longer smoothed back, and his face and hands smudged with soot, he could easily pass as a peasant working with any one of the carts he now directed.

  They moved slowly through the streets, never in a rush, but always directed to the northern gates of the city. She hadn’t yet seen Rousseau, but knew him to be one of those leaving today. Anticipation hummed through her even knowing Julien and Sebastian would never let her within twenty feet of the murdering bastard.

  As if reading her thoughts, Julien took her hand and kissed the back of it. She couldn’t feel the warmth of his lips on her, not through the heavy glove, but the gesture heated her blood and she smiled at him.

  Then they were stopped before the gates, Sebastian directly before them. Nerves churned in her stomach as they waited, and Olivia prayed for the first time in years.

  Chapter Nine

  Olivia stretched awake, unwilling to move from the warmth of the bed. Julien’s arm banded around her, drawing her closer to him and she smiled. They’d been steadily moving for days now, stopping every night at a pre-arranged cottage or inn. She didn’t think the owners were sympathetic royalists, more open to the money the Hellfire Club offered them.

  She gave them credit, however; the Club didn’t seem as if it arbitrarily tossed their coin around. Rather, they meticulously sought out those who would keep their mouths shut no matter who passed by.

  Sebastian slept on her other side, and careful not to disturb him, Olivia raised her head to look at him. Even in sleep lines etched his face, and she knew he worried for them. Paris had been dangerous enough, with the constant threat of discovery. But out here, with Revolutionaries crossing the countryside and clashing with Royalists at every opportunity, the danger was all too real.

  Her hand rested on Sebastian’s face, a fleeting touch so as not to wake him. After they’d made love last night, she knew he slipped from their bed. Neither he nor Julien said a word, and Olivia didn’t bring it up, but it had been the same every night since leaving Paris.

  Sebastian would sneak out of their rooms only to crawl back into their bed cold and exhausted. Julien would then leave. Olivia had the feeling they stood guard, constantly checking for police spies or eavesdropping on conversations in the pub below. Thus far, nothing untoward had happened. Not that she was aware of, at least.

  Tension had permeated their days, a constant companion Olivia hated. She dreaded her lovers waking, dreaded the moment they changed from lover to protector.

  Now, in these moments before that happened, she relaxed. Smoothing her fingertips along Julien’s arm, Olivia couldn’t wait until they reached England, when the strain tightening their muscles, the worry lining their handsome faces eased.

  It all happened so quickly and Olivia didn’t know how it had happened. She’d fallen in love with two handsome, virile men who took her to dizzying heights of pleasure even as they protected her. Even in sleep, even when only one of them slept next to her, they held her tightly.

  Olivia lay back on the bed and looked up at the coarse wood beams of the ceiling. Her chemise had tangled around her legs, but she ignored it. Besides, she preferred to tangle her legs with her lovers’, to feel their skin against hers.

  She loved them. In a matter of weeks she’d fallen in love with them.

  Sebastian moved beside her, and she knew he’d wake shortly. They had to keep moving, leave LeMans and continue on for Nantes and the ship awaiting them there. It would have been quicker to journey north, but Olivia understood others from the Club were scheduled to do that.

  Julien’s mouth kissed her neck and she shivered. He hadn’t moved, and she didn’t know if he had truly woke or not, but he kissed over her shoulder, down her arm.

  Love. How odd. Olivia hadn’t expected to see her next birthday, let alone feel so much for these two men.

  England held its own problems, its own uncertain future. For the moment, she just wanted to experience her present.

  Olivia turned to kiss her men. Normally they woke her with tender kisses and seductive caresses. With her blood already heating, and feeling bolder than she had since discovering all the pleasures of sex, Olivia shifted to kiss Sebastian.

  His mouth was soft beneath hers, and she thought he smiled just the slightest bit. Pulling back to watch him, Olivia wondered if he still slept or simply allowed her this chance to experiment. Whatever the case, she leaned over him, tugging the blankets off him to better feel his body.

  Behind her, Julien moved. Looking over her shoulder, Olivia saw he still slept. Seeing him, however, reminded her of how he’d taken Sebastian’s cock into his mouth. Of how both men had enjoyed that.

  Thinking of the action brought a blush to Olivia’s cheeks. But wetness flooded her core, arousal heated her blood. She licked her lips and swallowed the remnants of her sexual shyness.

  Olivia moved down the bed, taking the blankets with her. She wanted to taste Sebastian, wanted to feel him in her mouth, wanted him to know this pleasure from her.

  Semi-hard already, Sebastian’s cock felt smooth beneath her fingertips. Gathering her courage, Olivia licked suddenly dry lips and settled herself between his legs. She kissed the top of his cock, tasted the slightly salty tang there, before taking him deeper into her throat.

  Startled at the feel of him in her mouth, Olivia took him a little deeper. Unaccustomed to this, to the feel of a man in her throat, she pulled back. Slowly drawing Sebastian back into her, Olivia soon found a rhythm.

  The bolder she became, the easier she found to take more of him. Uncurling her fingers from the bedding, Olivia began to explore. Sebastian’s thighs, the base of his cock, over his hips. She’d never touched him like this, hadn’t touched either of her lovers so intimately. So audaciously.

  Shuddering as a wave of pleasure rocked through her, Olivia looked up at Julien. She wanted to taste him next. Wanted to feel him in her mouth, his body beneath her hands.

  He watched her with eyes as black as midnight, one hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking it. Inch by delicious inch, Olivia released Sebastian’s cock. Intent on Julien, she didn’t realize Sebastian had also woken. His hand reached for her, stopping her before she could move.

  Sebastian sat up and took one hand, guiding her back to his cock—hard now and pulsing.

  In a flash, Julien had risen to his knees, caressing her cheek and kissing her deeply. Olivia faltered in her movements, gasped as Sebastian’s hands cupped her breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers.

  “Relax your throat,” Julien instructed. He gently pushed her back down the bed, releasing her breasts from Sebastian’s more than pleasurable touch. “Take him back into your mouth,” Julien said, hands on her shoulders. “Breathe slowly as you take him.”

  Olivia did as she instructed, but her blood roared in her ears and her body hummed with need. Sebastian’s hands fisted in the bedding, growls of pleasure rumbling in his throat. Behind her, Julien’s hands slipped around her back, teasi
ng over her breasts and down her belly.

  When he slipped a finger into her wetness, Olivia moaned. But she didn’t stop, couldn’t she realized even as Julien’s fingers thrust in and out of her. She had to taste Sebastian, needed him to climax from her mouth, her hands.

  Sebastian thrust against her, even as Julien’s hands lifted her hips. Olivia moved faster, shuddering from arousal. When Julien entered her, she orgasmed, body clenching around his. Sebastian’s hands fisted in her hair, guiding her over his cock. Despite the pleasure crashing over her, Olivia moved again, taking him as deeply into her throat as she could.

  Julien continued to move, thrusting quickly into her. Suddenly Sebastian growled as he climaxed. Olivia swallowed his seed as another orgasm had her crying out, Sebastian’s cock slipping from her mouth.

  She pushed back against Julien, almost mindless now as he continued to move. With a sound that seemed more animalistic than human, he, too, climaxed.

  Boneless, Olivia collapsed atop Sebastian. Felt his arms come round her, hold her close. Felt Julien beside them, one hand resting possessively on her hip. She sighed, too content to move. Her body ached, her throat felt sore, but it was a delicious ache.

  Twining her fingers with Julien’s, Olivia kissed Sebastian’s throat and closed her eyes, utterly content.

  * * * *

  The sun cast its watery light over the land. Olivia held her cloak tighter around her as Julien escorted her to another cottage in the small, nameless village where they’d spent the night. The Club met in one of the cottages further down the rutted lane with instructions for the next stage of their trip.

  Sebastian had gone to see to the horses, an excuse Olivia didn’t completely believe, but before they entered the cottage, he’d returned. She observed a look between he and Julien, but didn’t understand what Sebastian’s quick headshake meant.

  While it was clear they tried to keep their voices down, when Julien opened the door and escorted her in, Olivia could hear the rising hum of noise. Not the shouting from the catacombs, and she nonetheless recognized its source immediately.

  Fear.

  They chattered amongst themselves about innocuous trivialities but that didn’t stop the fear from gripping each of them. It caused their voices to rise along with the anxiety in the room.

  “Things change every moment here, in the country.” someone said. Olivia looked for the origin of the voice and recognized Bernard. “I’ve heard there’ve been skirmishes just outside LeMans. I’ve heard the council troops are moving west. I’m no longer inclined to wait the two days we decided on in Paris. We need to move quickly.”

  Sebastian shifted closer to her and Julien. Olivia’s stomach clenched with fear. Not from what the man said, there had been rumors since they left of troop movements, Revolutionaries scouring the road for traitors and noblemen, the constant threat of discovery. No, what made her heart race and her breakfast set uneasily was Sebastian’s reaction to these words.

  She knew him to be a man of caution, both he and Julien were often overcautious she thought. But she couldn’t mistake the concern coming off both of them.

  “It’s a non-market day,” Bernard continued, “and we can’t move as we have been, as one caravan. Therefore, you’ll be broken into singles and possible groups of two.” He swept his gaze around the room, effectively silencing the protests before they gained volume.

  Everyone listened. They all knew Madame Guillotine raced after them, nipping at their heels.

  “You’ll leave the area in intervals.” He held up his hands for quiet, now glaring at those who continued to protest. “I expect you with merchant carts to visit the barn adjacent to the farmhouse; once there, exchange whatever goods you carry for others. In the event the National Police search for a specific cart, I want all of us to be free from suspicion.”

  Olivia nodded, but didn’t really pay attention. They didn’t have a choice, no matter what those few protesting this change thought. She searched the room for Rousseau, curling her hands into her cloak to keep from moving.

  There. He leaned against a wall, arms folded negligently as he listened. It didn’t look as if he paid the slightest attention, but the way he tilted his head, the way his eyes roved over the room, had Olivia believing otherwise.

  It took all her willpower not to move. Not to push her way through the crowd and attack. Olivia hated to admit it, but Julien and Sebastian were correct. This was neither the time nor the place to get at Rousseau. Any move she made now would endanger them all.

  As if reading her mind, Sebastian leaned in and whispered, “We will track him, Olivia. We’ll hunt him down like a rabid beast.” His voice lowered as if lending weight to his vow. “I promise you.”

  Olivia believed him. Taking his hand, she squeezed it in acknowledgement.

  Chapter Ten

  They were now linen merchants, on their way back home to Nantes, as their forged papers confirmed. Sebastian steered their cart along soggy, rutted roads. It had taken them twice as long traveling by ill kept roads as it should have. Cursing, he urged the horses forward, their hooves caked with mud, their coats glistening with freezing rain.

  Behind him, he heard Julien and Olivia talking quietly. When he looked over his shoulder at them, it didn’t surprise him to see Olivia scanning the landscape. She searched for Rousseau. He caught Julien’s eye for a moment before returning to the horses.

  Sebastian was confident Julien would agree—the moment they found Rousseau they needed to take care of him. To mete out justice for Louise if nothing else.

  “Where should we purchase our new home in London?” Julien asked in a slightly louder voice Sebastian knew was to regain Olivia’s attention. “One of those, what do they call them, flats?” he continued. “Or a townhouse on a manicured square in a posh corner?”

  “A small apartment in a somewhat decent neighborhood,” Olivia said, “would more than suffice. We’ll need to be frugal as we don’t have the…” she trailed off and with a rueful laugh added, “the resources we once did.”

  Sebastian wanted to stop the cart and kiss her. The more he knew of her, the more time he spent with her, the deeper he loved her. How many women would think of that? How many would admonish their lover to not spend extravagantly?

  “We will want for nothing, Olivia.” He looked over his shoulder and smiled at her astonishment. “Julien and I made arrangements long ago. A townhouse in a posh square is precisely what we’ll have.”

  He winked at her but couldn’t help wonder why Louise had never asked for help. She had never said where they stayed, for protection she claimed and Sebastian allowed her that. Now he cursed himself for not pushing. If Olivia, once from a wealthy landholding family with ties back to the House of Valois, could suggest such a modest dwelling, what had she become accustomed to?

  However there was simply no mistaking her astonishment at his declaration. Or the elbow she dug into Julien’s side when the other man laughed.

  “I asked Louise to do the same,” Olivia admitted with a quiet sigh. “To make arrangements for our money. But she truly believed Louis would be restored.” She fell silent and Sebastian looked back at her again. “Things change so quickly in Paris. All I have to offer are the jewels we managed to salvage.”

  Julien kissed her then, silencing any further memories from her. Sebastian could hear the ache in her voice, but didn’t dare stop the horses. He feared that once stopped, they’d refuse to set one more foot on this godforsaken road. Still, he wanted to hold Olivia.

  “You’ll wear those jewels,” Julien said. “And we’ll buy you more.”

  They moved ahead at a snail's pace, the jolting carriage creaking with every dip in the road. Sebastian concentrated on guiding the horses, on not becoming mired. When he risked a glance over his shoulder, he saw Olivia’s head resting on Julien’s chest, the other man’s arm snug around her.

  “How can we work in England?” she asked sometime later, breaking the silence that had descended. The wi
nd almost took her question away, but Sebastian heard her clearly.

  “The Club has unwittingly given us the perfect story,” Sebastian said with a wicked grin. “A bachelor uncle living with his nephew and his wife; it’s the ideal arrangement.”

  She smiled up at him with a little laugh and snuggled further into Julien’s side. Sebastian started to add more, but they crested a small rise and in the distance he recognized Rousseau’s cart. He hesitated for only a moment, and he knew that while Julien might have sensed it, the other man firmly held Olivia at his side. There was no possible way she could have noticed either Sebastian’s hesitation or Rousseau’s cart.

  He could ignore Rousseau. If he did that and kept to the plan he and Julien orchestrated while still in the catacombs, they’d find a way to exact their revenge after seeing Olivia to safety. Sebastian could keep his lover safe, could see her safe to London where neither Rousseau nor any of his allies could touch her.

  Or he could follow after the murdering bastard. Slapping the reins against the horses’ rumps, he urged them faster up the small incline. Their turnoff lay just ahead. Rousseau took the right fork; they were supposed to take the left.

  Sebastian kept to the right.

  Careful to keep distance between them, so as to not gain Rousseau’s attention, Sebastian was grateful the couple behind him talked in low voices. He didn’t look back, didn’t utter a word, but he could tell the instant they noticed something was off. The cart rocked slightly, wheels crunching through a thin layer of ice. Through the layers of his clothing, Sebastian felt Julien’s hand on his shoulder.

  “Sebastian,” he said in a low voice. “Where are we going?”

  Slowing the cart to a near stop, Sebastian allowed a peasant guiding his donkey to pass them. In the distance, he saw at least three other carts belonging to non-Hellfire Club members. As he waited for the peasant to pass well out of earshot, he marveled at Bernard’s ability to see them merge with the local traffic.