Guilty Pleasures (5 page)

“You have stopped complaining, wench,” he said, standing up and coming over to sit on the bed. Reaching out, he pinched one of her nipples hard. “My vessel is now in Half-Moon Cove. I sent Nestor out to bring back a lovely selection of toys for us to play with, my pretty. I think you will like them.” He twisted the little dildo in her asshole. “I think we shall replace this with something a bit sturdier,” Hawke told her.

“How about that fine cock of yours?” Carla suggested to him.

“Nay, wench, we are not quite ready for that yet, but I am pleased to see how eager you are for me.” He withdrew another dildo from the velvet-lined basket that had been placed on the nightstand. It was ivory, as was the smaller dildo, but ridged and at least four inches in length. “This one, I think.” Then he dipped the instrument into a bowl of scented oil, coating it lavishly as he used his other hand to withdraw the little ivory thumb.

“Ohh.” Carla’s dark eyes widened. “That looks delicious, your grace.”

“You are too eager for it,” he said and chuckled. “First that tempting bottom of yours needs a bit of priming, for I see its color has faded. Just a bit though, wench.” He stood up, and she saw a thick hazel switch in his hand. He began to whip her vigorously with it, the blows regular and spaced apart just enough so that her flesh began to quickly tingle.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Carla shrieked as the stinging and burning spread across her skin.

“Tell me you want to be punished,” he demanded. “Tell me that you are a very naughty girl and need the chastisement that I can give you.”

“Ohh, I am very naughty, your grace, and I thank you for teaching me how to behave with my betters,” Carla said, knowing it was exactly what he wanted to hear from her. The look of satisfaction in his cold eyes told her she would now be rewarded.

Hawke smiled, dropped the switch, and, taking the second dildo from the bowl of oil, slowly inserted it where the first had been. He twisted it several times, and she gasped with surprise at the sensation. “There, wench. Does that please you?”

“If it pleases you, your grace, aye!” she told him.

“It does please me,” he responded. “In fact, you please me far more than my duchess. She does not like to be whipped, and she has not taken to the cock well at all, I fear. I got her
enceinte
on our wedding night. After that, she avoided her duty to me unless I forced the issue. When she proved fertile so quickly, I let her be until two months after my heir was born. Then I locked her up with me for three days, pleasuring myself mightily while she wept and prayed. But I got her with child again. A man needs an heir and a spare at the least.

“Her reluctance to keep me content is why I decided to come back to the Caribbean to sell Amorata Cay. I will find myself a mistress when I return home. I don’t suppose you would be interested in filling that position, wench? We haven’t fucked yet, but you have pleased me well so far. I suspect you will be a most glorious fuck, for you are quite a delicious little whore.”

“I have told you once,
your grace
, that I am no whore. Because a woman enjoys coupling and playing with a man doesn’t mean she is a whore,” Carla said irritably.

Ignoring her, he leaned over to take something else from his basket of toys. Then he sat down next to her again. “Your arse is quite pink again,” Hawke remarked. “I believe it is now time to attend to your cunt once more.”

Carla could now see the object he had drawn from the basket. It was a long feather with a sharply pointed tip. He ran it slowly down her slit, and she shivered.

“Oh, yes, wench, you will enjoy this, I promise,” he said as he skillfully plied the feather across her cunt lips, as well as back and forth along the shadowed slit. She could feel moisture beginning to rise. Then, with the thumb and forefinger of his free hand, he spread her open and began to tickle her clit, slowly at first, and then with quicker strokes and flicks of the feather.

Carla’s lust exploded. Despite her trussed-up position, she attempted to squirm away from the feather that was so skillfully torturing her. Her juices were flowing, and she screamed with her desire. Carefully he inserted the feather into her vagina, teasing the sensitive walls of flesh. “I want to be fucked!” Carla moaned desperately. “I want to be fucked, you bastard! Aren’t you man enough to do it to me? Can you only tantalize me, your grace? I want to be fucked, damn it!”

He withdrew the feather. “Woman!” he declared in bored tones. “Either you can’t bear being fucked or all you want is to be fucked. There is more to passion. You will be fucked, wench. You will be fucked until you are breathless and unconscious, but I am not yet of a mind to give you that. I am enjoying torturing you with desire.” But then he thrust three fingers into her vagina, jamming them back and forth several strokes until she came with a shriek. “There! Are you satisfied for now, wench?”

“Unbind me,” she begged him. “I am beginning to lose feeling in my extremities.” And she was.

“Of course,” he said in reasonable tones. “It’s time for you to tease me a bit.” He reached up and undid the bonds holding her legs and arms, massaging each limb for a few moments so that the feeling came back into them.

Carla lay flat on the bed, breathing deeply. “Can I do whatever I want?” she asked him.

“You can’t bind me,” he said.

“Just your arms,” she begged him. “I want free reign over your body.”

“You want to slit my throat, wench, and I am fully aware of it. I will let you have your way as long as it pleasures me.” He stretched out next to her.

Carla knew she had to be satisfied with that. “No touching me unless you simply can’t bear it,” she warned him. Then, getting onto her haunches, she looked him over carefully. He was definitely lickable, and so she decided that she would lick him. First she bent to kiss him, her tongue shooting into his mouth to find his tongue. The two digits intertwined and stroked at each other for several long minutes. Then Carla broke the embrace, her tongue licking the side of his face.

The tongue moved slowly, at a leisurely pace, to his throat, his neck, his shoulders. It lapped across the broad chest, tasting him, savoring the scent of salt and sun, sensing the muscles beneath his flesh. She moved to his belly. It was hard and smooth. Her tongue dipped into his navel and out again.

“You are not permitted my cock yet,” he warned her.

“Very well, your grace,” Carla agreed. But then she moved across the bed so she might see what was in his basket. With a smile she drew out a small leather tawse. “Get on your hands and knees,” she commanded him, and was delighted when he obeyed. Admiring his round, firm, and tight butt, she smacked him with the tawse. To her surprise he didn’t protest, so she began to lay several hard blows on him. His buttocks quickly bloomed crimson, and his cock, which had hung beneath him, now stiffened, shooting straight forward. Carla hit him harder. “You are a very bad boy,” she told him.

“More than you can imagine,” Hawke replied, and then he sprang off the bed. Yanking the tawse from her hand, he pulled her from her place. “On your knees, wench! You know what to do, and I expect you to do it well or you’ll suffer the consequences.”

Kneeling before him, Carla began to lick the thick length, but she was excited by what she had done and couldn’t resist taking him almost immediately into her mouth. She could barely contain him, but she began to suck him, harder and harder, drawing him deeper into her mouth until his cock tip was touching the back of her throat, causing her to gag. She felt his hand on her head, kneading it, and heard his harsh breath.

“Ah, wench,” he groaned, “your skills are to be commended. Suck harder!”

He was going to come in her mouth, Carla knew, and she wanted him in her cunt. How long would it take him to renew his vigor? Well, it was her fantasy, wasn’t it? She wasn’t sure right now, but if she still had some kind of control, he would come and still be hard. That was just what she wanted.
Make it so,
she prayed silently.

And then he came, spurting his creamy, salty juices down her throat so hard and fast, she could barely swallow quickly enough. He groaned loudly with the act. “By God, wench, I have never had better,” he told her, “but alas, I am not yet satisfied.” He yanked her up. “On your back,” he said, pulling her onto the edge of the mattress, pushing her legs up to her shoulders. Looming over her, he moved closer, thrusting into her cunt with a sigh and another groan of distinct pleasure.

Then he began to piston her hard and deep with an energy that both surprised and astounded her. Carla’s head spun with delight. This was what she had been waiting for, and she was not disappointed. She couldn’t ever remember entertaining a cock of such length and girth. His performance was incredible, and while at first it had felt as if he was splitting her in two, the sensation quickly gave way to a feeling of unbelievable rising pleasure. Unable to contain herself, she screamed with delight, and before she could stop herself, she climaxed, shuddering over and over again until she finally ceased quivering.

He withdrew his sated cock, slowly nodding with open satisfaction. “Wench, you know well how to please a man. I am content for now.”

“I’m not,” Carla finally managed to say. “Is that all you are good for, your grace? One small fuck? I will not believe that!”

“You are too bold,” he said, his handsome face darkening. “I will fuck you again when it pleases me, and not a moment before.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Well,” she said, “you are hardly a youth. I suppose I was fortunate to gain one good poke from you. I had, I will admit, hoped for better.”

“Do you think me incapable?” he demanded.

“You said you would do me when it pleased you,” Carla answered him. “That certainly means you are not capable of fucking me again. How typical and how selfish. You have satisfied yourself but care not if I have been satisfied.”

“You screamed with your pleasure, wench,” he said.

“I did. But do you mean to ration my pleasure? If that is so, then just let me pay you for the island now, and you can be gone back to England.”

“I haven’t sent the documents to Governor Morgan yet,” he said. “Are you telling me that you believe my claim is true?”

“Whether ’tis true or not, you would in a pirate’s fashion have gold from me. Take it then, and leave me to find a lover who can satisfy me fully,” Carla told him. She suddenly felt better. She had been well fucked, and felt she was about to regain control of this unexpected fantasy she was enjoying. Then, casting a scornful glance at his groin, she saw that his cock was more than ready to do battle with her cunt once more.
“Ohhh,”
she murmured, and a wicked smile touched her lips as she scrambled from her precarious perch on the edge of the bed back into its middle.

He said nothing, instead climbing atop her to push slowly into her vagina again. “Is that better now, wench?” he growled at her.

Carla wrapped her legs about him. “Ohh, yes, your grace,” she purred into his ear.

The day beyond the bedroom’s French doors began to fade into late afternoon, but neither Hawke nor Carla tired of their sexual play. But then she fell asleep, and when she opened her eyes again, she was in her own bed—the bed she shared with her husband. A contented smile touched her face, and then Carla fell back to sleep. When she awoke again, it was raining outside.
What a night,
she thought. She might not have imagined someone like Hawke, but she had to admit she was not dissatisfied with him. He was every woman’s dream. Tireless and skillful.

The rain stopped by eleven, and Tiffany called just after noon. “Did you survive last night?” she asked, giggling.

“Barely,” Carla answered. “He whipped me. I whipped him. I sucked. He fucked. And oh, let me tell you about the pointed feather.”

“A feather?” Tiffany almost whispered. “Pointed?”

“Yep, and a most devastating weapon, I might add,” Carla said as she explained how he had used the wicked tickler on her clitoris.

“God, he sounds like a perfect brute,” Tiffany said. “I am sooo jealous.”

Carla laughed. “Create a brute of your own. Your sultans don’t all have to be civilized and gallant. Certainly the real ones weren’t.”

“I couldn’t,” Tiffany replied.

“Why ever not?” Carla wanted to know.

Tiffany hesitated.

“Tiffy! You have a secret,” Carla accused. “Tell me! Don’t I tell you everything? Come on now. Spill it!”

“The men I fuck with all look like Joe,” Tiffany finally said. “Oh, they have better bodies than my husband, but they all have the same face. If I’m going to screw them without guilt, they have to look like Joe.”

“Oh. My. God!” Carla said. Then she laughed. “If I put Rick’s face on any of my playmates, I couldn’t do half the naughty stuff I do. And I wouldn’t want to, Tiffy. Rick is a sweet and tender lover. He always was. But adventurous and wicked isn’t in his character. If I put Rick’s face on a lover who whipped me and ass-fucked me, I wouldn’t believe it at all. I’d get a fit of the giggles.”

“I love my romance novels, especially the harem ones, as you well know,” Tiffany admitted, “but I have never been able to see myself making love to anyone else but Joe. I can’t help it. I’d feel guilty. Don’t you ever feel guilty?”

“No,” Carla said. “The Channel is fantasy, nothing more. You don’t think married guys dream about screwing other women? I’ll bet Joe does now and again.”

“I can’t do it,” Tiffany said. “Here I am, a smart woman who raised her twins, got her training, and now works in a law office. But I can’t imagine loving anyone but Joe.”

“The Channel isn’t about loving anyone,” Carla said. “It’s just fantasy. I would never consider being unfaithful to Rick in real life, but the Channel isn’t real.”

Tiffany sighed. “I guess I’m just different from the rest of you,” she said. “I can’t help the way I feel.”

“You’re sweet,” Carla told her friend. “Rick called from Paris last night.”

“He’s in Paris? Wow! Maybe Joe should have taken Ryan as a client and left Ashley to Rick,” Tiffany teased.

“Rick’s in Paris, not me,” Carla said drily. “And if it were Joe, you wouldn’t be in Paris any more than I am.”