by Belita Renn
He shrugged. “Think of it as charity, yours was probably the loveliest cunny he had ever tasted. Besides, no one will ever suspect you as being the lady back there, so there was no harm done. And I did stop him, as soon as you let me know to do so,” he defended.
"And if they discover my identity?” She removed her mask and laid it on the seat.
"Then you will have talked.” Pushing her gown off her shoulders to her waist, he lifted her onto her feet.
Having no wish to fight him, she allowed him to move her about as though she were a puppet. “Stepmother will never forgive me if she learns. When he ends their affair, she will blame me. What are you doing?"
"Undressing you.” Shoving her gown to her feet, he lifted her from the pooled material. “Much better.” Settling her onto his lap in her shear chemise, he caressed her swollen nubs until the coach stopped at the entrance of the graveyard. “Stay here.” Sliding her to the seat, he climbed from the coach and closed the door. The curtains were closed so she could not see what was happening.
"That will be all for now, Carlos. Climb down, and wait at the pub down the street for me to come for you."
The coach rocked, and then began moving. Peeking out the window, she saw that they were moving down the path between the gravestones. When he stopped and climbed down, she peeked out the window.
"Come on out, we are alone."
"Are you certain?"
"I looked around as we drove in."
Opening the door, she grasped his hand, and stepped down. Taking her hand, he led her through the gravestones. “Why am I walking in the middle of a graveyard in my chemise?"
"You're right.” Taking hold of the shoulders, he shoved the sleeves down. She squealed as he continued to shove it down to her feet. Moving her aside, he grasped the material and tossed it over a headstone. The full moon revealed her light skin in the darkness.
"All right, what am I doing standing in a graveyard in my stockings and slippers?” Her amused tone was apparent in her voice.
"Well, if I catch you, you are going to sit on a cold, no wait, straddle a cold gravestone while suckling my cock."
Squealing, she took off running. Laughing, he allowed her a head start, before running after her. Having the advantage of longer legs, he quickly gained on her. Stopping on the far side of a gravestone, she puffed for breath, holding up a staying hand.
"I think I win.” A saucy smile spread his lips. Slowing to a walk, he continued to advance.
"Wait.” Puffing, she waved her hand. “I need to catch my breath."
He continued to advance at a lazy stroll.
"Wait."
Shaking his head, he circled the gravestone. Sprinting off, she attempted to escape; he quickly caught her up in his arms. Swinging her around in a circle and laughing, he squeezed her to his chest. “I win."
"You cheated."
"You lost, slave. Straddle that stone.” Settling her onto her feet, he indicated a low stone.
"This is cruel. It's cold.” She touched her fingers to a low stone.
"You shouldn't have run.” Grasping her shoulders, he pressed her down onto the stone.
She hissed as her hot flesh touched the rock.
"I said straddle."
Tossing him a glare, she rose and changed positions, straddling the stone without sitting. When she looked up again, he was removing his erection from his breeches.
"What if I hadn't run?"
"I would have caught you, and you would have straddled the stone."
"You are a mean master.” She pouted.
"It won't hurt you, and the cold will help the swollen skin of your anus and cunny. If I had known you were unprepared for my entry, I wouldn't have let myself get so carried away. I would have introduced you gently."
"Oh.” Easing onto the cold stone, she gasped as the cold connected with her hot skin.
He tapped her mouth with the soft tip of his penis. Parting her lips, she allowed him to slide inside.
Tossing his head back, he groaned. “Where have you been all my life, slave?"
"Right under your nose,” she teased.
"I must have been a blind ass."
"Um-hum." Busy exploring the hard muscle beneath the soft outer flesh with her tongue and teeth, she didn't pause to speak.
"Are you going to rub it in for the rest of our lives?"
"Um hum."
He chuckled. “You do know, you just agreed to marry me?"
"Huh?” She began pulling away from his cock, but he grabbed the back of her head, and shoved back inside her mouth.
"Oh no you don't. Suck, wife."
She suckled, licked and nibbled, torturing him as he had her until he grasped her shoulders and tossed his head back. He howled as he pumped his seed into her throat. It filled her mouth and spilled down over her breasts. Swallowing what remained in her mouth, she pulled back and licked her lips.
"I don't know how you are ever going to explain to the children what you were doing when you agreed to marry me."
"I didn't agree to anything. I happen to have every intention of being courted and proposed to properly, before I agree to wed."
"Ah, you are a stubborn wench. Very well, let's go then.” Taking her hand, he helped her from the stone. Once she was standing, he released her hand and walked to the chemise on the tombstone and snatched it up. Walking to his side, she held out her hand to accept the undergarment. Tossing it over his shoulder, he clasped her hand and started walking.
"Wait a minute, let me put on my chemise first."
"You don't need it."
"The night air is cold.” She complained, skipping along at his side.
"You are my slave remember, and I want you naked. I'll walk faster to speed your blood.” She was forced to run along at his side, as he stretched out his long stride.
"Victor?"
"Yes, slave."
"You expect me to call you master now?"
"It wouldn't hurt. Your punishment might be lighter.” He paused to toss her chemise inside the coach.
"Punishment? I haven't done anything wrong,” she complained.
"Doesn't matter. If I want to punish you, as your master, it is my right."
"I didn't agree to this. You promised no pain, and you have already hurt me. Therefore, our deal is off."
Grasping her waist, he lifted her onto the side step of the landau that led to the footman's seat.
"Climb,” he ordered.
Pressing her lips together, Cinde complied.
After climbing onto the top, Cinde settled on the seat and crossed her arms in rebellion. Climbing up the side of the coach, he joined her on the seat.
Leaning her over the top of the roof, he spread her legs wide, and moved between them. Her buttocks clenched in objection. She had a good idea what form of punishment he had in mind.
"If you hurt me again, I will not agree to your escort,” she warned. “Ever."
Spreading her cheeks, she felt his fingertips smooth over the sphincter of her sore anus.
"Victor, please, I cannot take anymore."
He stroked her again and pressed his finger into her vagina and lifted his wet finger away. Then spread the cream over her sphincter.
"Please, master,” she caved in, afraid of the pain his entry would cause.
She felt and heard him moving between her spread legs. Glancing over her shoulder, she attempt to see him, but couldn't. “Please, master,” she pleaded.
His hot, wet, slick tongue licked her from opening to opening. It was a soothing caress, and felt heavenly. Moaning, she twisted, attempting to see him. “You mustn't do that.” But she knew he would do anything he wished. Victor was also a rule breaker. The thought pleased her.
He tongue returned, soft and caressing, lapping over her sphincter and soothing the burning flesh. She was certain she was hot to the touch, in spite of sitting on the cold stone. As she tried to rise, he pushed her back down with a hand on her back. Without a word, he continued to lick and lap her sphincte
r. It was actually quite exciting and very arousing. She could feel her sex beginning to ache again and her juices were beginning to wet her opening again.
"Victor, I will die if someone catches us. Could I at least fetch my mask?"
"No, look at the moon.” Slipping a finger into her vagina, he pumped it in and out while continuing to lick her in that decadent manner.
Now, she knew why they called it decadent—it was self-indulgent and wicked. Twisting her head, she glanced up at the moon hanging overhead. “It's big and bright, and anyone approaching could see what you are doing to me."
"Once they learned you are my slave and being punished, they will think nothing of it. Besides, you asked for the moon to be involved. I am fulfilling my promise."
She snorted. “That is the most self-serving excuse I have ever heard of for risking my total humiliation."
"Shut up, close your eyes, and feel. You will soon forget your location."
"You're not going to stop, are you?” Laying her hands flat on the roof, she pushed her shoulders up. And fell back down when he pinched her clit. “Ouch."
"Stay put.” His tongue moved down and licked her pain away, and then moved to her slick vagina, thrusting inside. Moaning her pleasure, she hoped he would stay there, but he didn't. After a few moments, he moved back to her anus, and using both hands, he held her cheeks apart while licking her.
It was beginning to feel really good, and she was relaxing. Laying her head on her hands, she moaned her pleasure at his continued administrations.
Finally, he rose and shoved his erection into her sheath. Moving slowly, he rocked against her buttocks, his scrotum bumping against her exposed clit. First she felt the bump, then heat and cool air when he withdrew. Then the pressure against her clit again and again as his huge erection pumped into her sheath. Heaviness pooled in her pelvis, she ached, and throbbed around and against him. Then suddenly, her whole body clenched, the coil of her climax shattered in her body like the sudden burst of fireworks.
"Oh, Victor,” she whispered.
"Hold on, my sweet, I am getting ready."
"No,” she breathed it in a plea, her head lifting off the coach. “Don't climax."
Chuckling, he pulled from her body, then tossed his head back and hissed as he spilled his seed onto her buttocks. He fell across her back. “Don't climax?” he queried in an amused voice. “When I am in your delightful body? Do you think I'm some kind of god? I'm human, sweetheart, and I cannot resist a climax."
"Can we get down from here now?” She was still uncomfortable about their exposed location. Anyone could walk into the graveyard.
"No.” He rolled off her back, and drew her into his arms. “I want to gaze at the moon for a minute while I regain some strength."
Snuggling against his side, she opened his shirt. “So you are a moon worshiper and gain your sexual strength from the its rays,” she teased.
"Yes.” A contented smile spread across his lips.
She splayed her fingers through the short curly hair on his chest. “I have never been as debauched as I am with you."
He chuckled. “You think I don't know a virgin when I enter one?"
"You knew? Well, doing this would be considered debauched by anyone, virgin or not."
"Probably. We do it extremely well, though.” Rubbing his hand over her stomach, he gazed at the sky.
"Victor, I would like to see your body."
"You would?” Turning, he kissed her hair. “Then you shall.” Sitting up, he helped her rise and then climbed down first. Catching her hips as she climbed down, he lifted her from the side of the coach and carried her to the door and placed her inside. While he climbed on top, and drove from the graveyard, she dressed. When he went inside the pub to fetch his driver, she slipped from the coach and ran up a side street. Hailing a hackney, she gave her address and climbed inside.
As the coach drove down the street, she glanced out the back window. Victor was stopping a hackney and looking inside for her. Smiling, she settled back against the seat.
Her night of adventure and pleasure was over, but she had some wonderful memories. Her only regret was that she hadn't seen his naked body.
The following morning, a basket of flowers arrived addressed to her. The card read, “Catch you later, wife.” There was no signature to give the sender's identity away.
"Who sent the flowers?” John asked, walking into the parlor.
"There was no name on the card."
"You're funning me. Someone put out that much blunt and didn't even sign their name? What a fool."
"Cinde, fetch tea, and don't forget the cakes this time,” her stepmother, Juliette ordered.
Leaving the parlor, she strolled down the hall to the kitchen. They had a cook, Mrs. Teller, so Cinde prepared the trolley with dishes, cakes, and the tea set, while Mrs. Teller made the tea. When Cinde rolled the trolley into the parlor, Victor was sitting on the settee. As there was no other available space, she was forced to sit by his side.
"I have good news for you, Cinde,” Juliette said, while John smirked behind his hand.
"Indeed, what, stepmother?"
"Lord Helson has asked to escort you to the garden party at his parents’ home this afternoon."
Passing Victor a cup of tea, she smiled. “That is very kind of you, my lord.” Although Victor had not yet received his title, Juliette insisted he be addressed as lord. “I regret I cannot attend."
"Why ever not?” Juliette demanded. Her stepmother sat stiffly on the edge of her chair. Her dyed-blonde hair up in curls on top of her head was attractive, but the pinched look on her narrow face was not.
"I am to visit Madam Phoebe's to fetch your new gown for the ball."
Moving to her stepmother's side, Cinde passed her a cup of tea and a plate with cake.
"Oh dear, I had forgotten.” Her stepmother shifted her gaze to Victor. “And I have already accepted Lord Helson's invite. John will have to fetch the gown,” she decided.
"Now, wait a minute.” John straightened in his seat. Lifting a cup, Cinde carried it to him. He was staring at his mother and accepted the cup absently. “I also have plans to go to the garden party."
"You attend many; it will not harm you to miss one.” Juliette dismissed his protest.
Flattening his lips, John cast Cinde a hard glare, and then the mirth returned to his eyes. He turned to Victor. “When I gave you ... leave to see Cinde, I never expected you to take me up on the offer."
"I hadn't thought of it before you did. I suddenly realized she was the one person I trusted not to chase me because of my future title.” Relaxed in his seat, Victor appeared completely content with the situation.
Cinde, however, was a ball of nerves. Last evening, she had been foolish in thinking it over. Truly, she had not believed he would pursue her. Thinking it had all been talk one lover said to another, she had gone to sleep clutching the memory of their evening to her heart.
Not knowing how to act around him for the first time since they met two years ago, she sat in silence, allowing the people around her to work out the situation.
Grumbling, John accepted the situation, while Juliette continued talking about the garden party.
"Is your father able to attend the party?” Juliette asked.
"No, but he insisted mother go ahead with it. He plans to watch from his balcony."
"What a charming man. Do give him my best wishes when you see him.” Juliette was being charming now that Cinde was no longer opposing her wishes. Apparently, she approved of Victor courting Cinde.
"Thank you, I will. Actually, we have consulted a new physician since Burke could do no more for him. This gentleman believes he can pull father through this illness."
"Wonderful.” Cheerfully, Juliette clapped her hands like a debutante.
"Oh, Victor, I am so pleased for you,” Cinde added.
"Cinde, do not address your betters so informally."
"Actually, Mrs. Rella, I asked Cinde to address
me by my Christian name last evening."
"I suppose it is acceptable, after all, you have known each other for some time. Cinde, you should go up and make yourself presentable for the viscountess."
Replacing her cup on the trolley, Cinde rose and quit the parlor. In her chamber, she removed her gown and chemise, and then washed before donning fresh clothing.
Dressed in pale yellow silk and matching slippers, she descended the stairs. Victor came through the open doorway, and met her at the base of the staircase. He was so handsome, her heart clenched. Feeling proud that he wished to escort her anywhere, she smiled. Accepting his hand, she stepped from the stairs and moved to the side table to don her bonnet. After tying the ribbon, she was prepared to depart.
Placing her hand on his arm, they quit the townhouse with John and Juliette standing in the parlor door watching. She waited until they were outside before speaking.
"Why are you doing this?"
"I promised you would see me naked. You didn't expect me to go back on my promise merely because you did."
"I did nothing of the kind.” Nearing the coach, she closed her mouth. His footman assisted her into the landau and she settled on the squabs. While Victor stepped inside, the coach rocked as the footman climbed the side.
"You ran away. I say that was breaking your promise to be my slave for the night."
"I had to go home sometime. How long did you expect me to stay?"
"Until I escorted you home.” Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he tilted up her chin as though she were a doll. Inhaling his scent, she felt the tension building within her body. He licked her lips and she giggled. “You still owe me time,” he said.
"No.” She smiled against his lips. Pushing out her tongue, she tasted him.
"Hm, I want more."
Licking her lips, her heart thundered in her chest. “Are you really going to allow me to see you naked?” She spoke against his soft lips.
"Have you changed your mind?"
"No,” she breathed, growing aroused by the feel of his lips against her own. The soft strokes reminded Cinde of him licking other parts of her body.
"Then you shall see me naked.” Reaching for his waistcoat, he began releasing the buttons.
"Not now."
His hand stilled. “You prefer a certain location?"
