Simply Sinful (28 page)

“And you can’t do that for him?” His tone was gentle and nonjudgmental.

“No. How can you hurt the person you love?”

Peter smile was bitter. “You can hurt them in many ways.”

“But like that? Physically breaking someone to your will?”

He shrugged. “I have never enjoyed that myself, but I can see that James does.” He clinked tankards with her. “Tonight I intend to show you how you can help him achieve his sexual needs without resorting to complete domination.”

“I don’t want to hurt him, Peter.”

“Then you can watch. You don’t have to participate.”

A roar of triumph and a series of groans erupted from the game and the circle broke up, disgorging a grinning James. He sauntered over.

“Here you go, Tom.” He handed her a pile of coins. “Your winnings.”

“But I didn’t even ask you to bet for me.”

“If I hadn’t, you were going to, weren’t you?”

She stared up at him. “You know me so well.”

His expression softened. “Of course I do. We’ve been married for a long time.”

She lowered her head, fussed around pocketing the money until he started talking to Peter. He did love her in his way and he tried to give her what she wanted. He’d given her Peter, hadn’t he? And the promise of a baby. Things that were probably as alien to him as his needs sometimes felt to her. How could she not try to offer him something in return? She stood on tiptoe to whisper in Peter’s ear.

“I’ve changed my mind. I’ll do anything I can to help tonight.”

He squeezed her shoulder, his smile full of approval. James grinned at her too.

“Apparently, there’s a cock fight at the Bell and Candle two streets away, followed by some boxing. Shall we go and watch?”

Abby was the first to put down her tankard.

“That would be wonderful.”

20

“R
un!”

Abby took off after James, Peter right behind her, her feet tripping on the curb in her unfamiliar boots. Peter caught her arm to steady her and dragged her along with him until the angry shouts behind them became less pronounced. Fighting for breath, Abby leaned against the wall of the shadowed passageway. James put his finger to his lips.

“Shh.”

The lamplighters sped past still muttering threats and insults about idle aristocrats throwing stones. Abby clamped her teeth down on her lower lip as a sudden desire to laugh shuddered through her. She looked up, caught the gleam of James’s white teeth as he grinned down at her and pressed her face to his chest to stifle her giggles. She was a respectable married woman. How had she ended up hiding in a passageway with two men who really should know better than to taunt city employees?

What an evening. She’d hated the cockfight even more than the boxing. At least the men, unlike the cocks, could decide whether they wished to fight or not. The smell of blood and sawdust and the bitterness of defeat would linger in the back of her throat and her thoughts for days.

Peter closed in behind her, his hands braced on the wall, trapping both her and James. He kissed Abby’s throat then James’s mouth, a bruising kiss that had James hissing a curse and kissing him back. Squeezed between the two of them, Abby quickly became aware when the kiss turned from playful to passionate as two erect cocks rubbed against her belly and buttocks. She wrapped her arm around James’s neck and held him tight as they moved together in a wordless sensual embrace.

James slid his mouth down to hers, his kiss as rough and wild as the one he’d shared with Peter. Abby didn’t object as his tongue thrust into her mouth and his fingers clamped onto the back of her head to hold her exactly where he wanted her. As reckless now as he was, she shoved one hand between them and rubbed his cock, the other behind her back to caress Peter’s.

Peter’s mouth was on hers now, taking over from James. She tried to stand on tiptoes, craving the firm contact of an aroused cock between her legs to relieve the growing ache. James lifted her until the tip of his erection ground into her sex. She moved restlessly against him, suddenly too aware of the thick fabric between them that dulled her reactions.

“Please, James; please, Peter.”

She moaned as Peter undid her breeches and pulled them down to expose her bottom. James held her up one-handed as he opened his own breeches, his wet cock springing free and then disappearing inside her. She fought to widen the gap between her legs, but her breeches held her captive. Peter’s cock nudged her buttocks and slid into her arse.

He held her too, one arm clamped around her hips, the other around James. She tried to move, couldn’t when they both filled her so deeply.

“Fast and hard, James, just how you like it, and then we’ll go back to Madame’s and finish our evening.”

Abby gave herself up to the bliss of being fucked, the only word that truly fitted the impossibly arousing situation. She was out in public dressed as a man, running away from an angry mob, and two men were inside her. Would she ever have believed herself capable of that three months ago? She stifled a scream against James’s shoulder as a climax shook through her. Perhaps not, but she wouldn’t change a single thing.

By the time they returned, Madame Helene’s was quieter, the noise in the salons down to a gentle hum. As they walked through the rooms, Abby tried not to stare at the men entangled with each other, or even more oddly, the men dressed up as women who openly plied their trade.

To her surprise, Peter didn’t take them back to their usual blue suite, but climbed another set of stairs into a smaller higher level.

He paused at the third door and looked at Abby.

“If you are tired, this is the perfect opportunity for you to leave.”

She smiled back at him. He smelled of sex, ale and of both her and James. How could she not support him through the rest of the evening he’d planned?

“I want to stay and help.”

“You are sure?”

James cleared his throat. “Can we get on with this? I want to fuck in a bed, not another passageway.”

Peter opened the door. The small room was almost in darkness, the walls a deep rich red, the single curtained window draped in black. A candelabra placed by the bed shadowed more of the room than it lit. In the center of the bare wooden floor there was a large upright wooden contraption.

James hesitated on the threshold until Abby pushed him into the room. He swallowed hard as he circled the structure, touched the wood with his fingertips. Peter watched him.

“Is this part of my birthday present?”

“If you want it to be.”

James halted and turned to look at Peter. “Why would you think I would be interested in being…restrained like this?”

“Because I have noticed certain things about your sexual behavior that lead me to believe you would.” Peter moved closer. “Have you seen one of these before?”

James nodded, his attention fixed on the chains and manacles that hung down from the top of the rectangular-shaped frame.

“Aye, in Jamaica. The overseer who trained me had one.”

Abby held her breath as James licked his lips.

“Did he train you on this?”

“Yes, among other things.”

“Then you know what I want you to do.”

Abby took a seat on the corner of the bed that was covered in black silk sheets, faced James and watched him strip. The muscled skin on his back glinted as he bent to pull off his breeches and boots. His cock was already erect and wet. He straightened and went to stand between the wooden posts where Peter waited for him.

“The overseer. The one who ‘trained’ you. Tell us about him.”

“When I reached the sugar plantation, my uncle sent me to work for this man. His name was Mr. Robert Hodges.”

Peter took James’s left wrist, fitted the manacle around it and did the same for the right.

“And what did Mr. Hodges do? Force you to have sex with him?

“No, it wasn’t like that.”

Peter pulled on the chain attached to the manacles, raised James’s arms above his head and wrapped the chain securely around the wooden support. James took a deep breath, tightening his stomach muscles. His cock grew even bigger.

“At that point in my life, I was disinclined to listen to anything anybody had to tell me. I was nineteen, I’d been uprooted from everything I loved, forced to marry and live a lie. Robert wasn’t that much older than me. I believe he was about twenty-five. I tried to make his life as difficult as possible.”

Peter took off his coat and waistcoat and indicated that Abby should do the same. He walked behind James, pausing to stroke his buttocks. Abby bit her lip as James’s muscles clenched when Peter touched him.

“And what did he do about that?”

James smiled. “He finally lost his temper with me and shoved me over his desk to give me the beating I deserved. He pulled down my breeches, gave me ten strokes with his whip and I…”

Peter stepped back into the shadows beside Abby and rested his hand on her shoulder.

“And you did what?”

“I came all over his desk.”

Abby winced as Peter’s finger dug into her flesh.

“What did he do then?”

“He made me clean up the mess and gave me ten more strokes, this time bending over a chair.”

“And did you come again?”

“No, because he told me not to.”

Peter left Abby’s side and returned to James, a thin whip in his hand. Abby tensed as he trailed the tip of the whip over James’s stomach, groin and buttocks.

“If I give you ten strokes, will you promise not to come?”

James shuddered and closed his eyes. “What if I fail?”

“Then I’ll give you ten more.”

James bowed his head and widened his stance as if anticipating the blows. Peter glanced at Abby.

“Would you like to whip him?”

She stared at the whip and shook her head. Swallowed down her sudden fear.

“You won’t hurt him will you, Peter?”

“James?”

“He won’t, Abby. I want this. I want him to touch me like this.”

She wrapped her arms around herself as Peter stood behind James and raised the whip. James didn’t even flinch until the seventh stroke. The only sound, apart from his breathing and the swish of the whip, was the steady drip of pre-cum from his cock to the wooden floor.

“Abby, come and look.”

She reluctantly joined Peter and viewed James’s back and buttocks. Thin red lines marred his skin but there was no blood.

“Are you all right, James?”

He nodded, his hands fisted above the shackles. Peter placed the whip on the bed.

“When did Mr. Hodges decide to fuck you?”

James grimaced. “When he got sick of me begging.”

“You asked him to do that to you?” Abby said.

“He knew what I wanted. He also knew that it was necessary for me to make the decision myself or else all hell might have broken loose with my uncle if I changed my mind.”

“Of course, Mr. Hodges had a job and he could probably ill-afford to lose it.”

“Robert was like me. A younger son of a noble family who had failed to live up to expectations and been shipped abroad to try and make something of himself.”

“And then he met you.”

“Aye, he did, and he taught me more about sex and desire than I would ever have believed possible.”

Peter stroked James’s cheek, brushed a kiss over his parted lips.

“What else did he introduce you to, James? Did he play games with you, torment you until you thought you couldn’t go on, make you beg?”

“All of those things. Sometimes when we worked together, he’d constantly brush against me, touch my cock, squeeze my balls, twist my nipples until I was hard and wet and then he’d keep me like that all day until I was ready to do anything he wanted.”

“What did he want?”

“To fuck me. To make me scream his name when I came.”

“He introduced you to the rack?”

“He said I needed discipline. It was another way to make me wait, to make me beg.”

Peter emerged from the shadows, the leather cock ring he’d chosen with Abby in his hand. James stared at it. His breathing quickened and his pupils dilated, bleeding from brown to black in the flickering light.

“Abigail, help me with this.”

She hesitated, glanced at James. He met her gaze.

“Please, Abby.”

She knelt beside Peter as he showed her the unbuckled connected leather circles.

“These two go around his balls, the third around the base of his cock.”

“I remember.”

Peter glanced up at James. “Abigail helped me pick this out for you at an Oriental warehouse in Southampton.”

“Abby did?” James let out his breath. “Good for her.”

She carefully encircled one of his balls with the leather strap and buckled it. Peter did the same with the other one and then ran a finger down James’s straining cock.

“Put the last one around the base of his cock. Don’t come, James.”

She carefully placed the thick leather band around his shaft and drew the buckle through. James groaned as she hesitated.

“Tighter, Abby darling, make it hurt.”

She glanced doubtfully at Peter, who nodded.

“I’ll do it if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head. She was going to do this for James if it killed her. Her hands shook as she tightened all the buckles. Her fingers grew slippery from his pre-cum. He moaned, the sound deep in his throat and his cock thrust toward her face.

“What else did we get him, Abigail?”

She jumped as Peter knelt behind her, his fingers caressing her covered breasts. Her nipples hardened in an aching rush.

“I don’t remember.”

He chuckled, the sound soft against her throat. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

Peter left her kneeling there in front of James, staring at his cock. She brushed a drip of fluid from the tip.

“Does it hurt, James?”

“It’s tight. It traps the blood in my cock, makes me stay harder for longer.”

“And do you like it?”

He smiled. “What do you think?”

She studied his enrapt features. He didn’t seem to be in pain. Peter handed her a vial of perfumed oil.

“Come and help me.”

She got unsteadily to her feet and followed Peter to the rear of the frame.