Love Revealed

by Sorcha Mowbray

  It covered the top half of her head, lacing in the back for a snug fit and offering a significant amount of anonymity. The Market maintained a strict standard of privacy, which included masks to protect its client’s identities. It would be uncomfortable in society if one looked across the ballroom and saw the man you’d flogged the night before as he approached dancing on the arm of a fresh-faced debutant.

  The mask also allowed her to shed her prim exterior in exchange for her inner sensual self. Anonymity made it easy to keep the men at a distance, using them only for the pleasure they offered.

  Kathleen took a quick look in the mirror and opened the door. She stopped and curtsied as she entered, keeping her eyes down like a maid.

  “Sir, you rang for me?”

  “Come here.” His rich velvety voice came from across the room.

  Standing next to the fireplace, his face was cast in shadows. There was no need to look up to know his features were shrouded in a half mask similar to the one she wore. Without a word, she proceeded across the room to stand before his six-foot frame. He was athletic, well put together. Bulging muscles under bronze skin made it clear he had worked more than a day’s manual labor in his life. Despite his physique, he was refined. Not rough.

  “Were you responsible for polishing the banister today?” His brow quirked up in question.

  “Yes, Sir.” Kat kept her gaze focused on the shadows hiding his eyes. His finger traced the edge of her scooped bodice, dipped into her cleavage as it advanced along the landscape. Chill bumps rippled across her chest, her body reacting of its own accord.

  “You shall need to try again tomorrow.” He frowned.

  “Yes, Sir.” She waited in supplication for him to decide what would come next. Punishment or pleasure? To her relief, he pulled her into his arms. Firm masculine lips compressed hers as his tongue swept into her mouth. Invading. Claiming.

  This was what kept her coming back to this place. To this man. The feeling of strong arms wrapped around her and a demanding, yet delicious, devouring of her person.

  The tips of her breasts pebbled, straining against the restricting fabric of her bodice. He raised his lips from hers and looked down. She followed his gaze and found he could see the relief of her nipples against the black of her dress. He flicked a finger down across one, and then the other.

  Her breath caught in her throat. He paused, stared at her intently, but said nothing as he stepped toward the lone chair in the room. A comfortable wing back seat placed before the fire.

  “Pour me a glass of whiskey and then you may remove my boots, my valet seems to have disappeared.”

  Without a word she poured two fingers of amber liquid and then made her way over to where he sat. There she held out the glass to him. He took it, and used his free hand to stroke her hip through her dress. Devoid of all of the normal petticoats, the warmth of his touch burned through the material.

  Still silent, she turned and slung one leg over his, and raised his booted foot. The motion lifted her skirts and exposed her calves. Bent over, her backside on display to him, the first boot slid free. She progressed to the next foot and repeated the process. This time he placed his hand across her bottom to help shove. The boot slipped off and she stumbled forward, unaccustomed to the task.

  Kat stood and placed her prize next to the first by the chair. Without warning he hauled her into his lap. At first she struggled, shoving against his chest in feigned surprise.

  “Hush. Kat, you’ll do as I say.” He adjusted her position across his thighs.

  “Sir. The housekeeper will dismiss me.” She pressed against his chest, attempting to free herself from her captor.

  “Only I can dismiss you.” His hand delved into her bodice. He captured a nipple, again rolling it with his thumb and forefinger.

  A low moan escaped as the telltale wetness seeped from her body. She couldn’t hide her desire, though she must play out the scene for Sir. For her ultimate pleasure.

  “Sir! I cannot. I am a good girl!” She leapt from his lap.

  He inhaled sharply. It seemed like he could smell her arousal, except the fire must be covering the odor of her lust.

  He pointed, an imperious gesture, at the bed. “Sit.”

  Now. This was when she was to give in. Let him have his way with her. She sucked in a breath and went to the bed. He stalked toward her, shedding his clothing one article at a time except for his cravat. Jutting from a nest of dark curls, his cock stood proud, thick with veins and a purplish tip. She squeezed her knees together with lady-like decorum, feet dangling over the edge of the bed. The pressure eased the ache between her thighs.

  An unconscious gesture, her tongue slid past her teeth to moisten dry lips. His bulbous head slipped into her view and hovered, waiting for her to grasp it in greeting. Her hand shifted upward to clutch it. A reflex she stopped before it could complete its path. Her gaze darted to the silk material dangling from his fingers, then to his face.

  “May I?” She begged, already desperate with the need to have him within her body any way she could. Her mouth. Her pussy. It didn’t matter.

  “You may, since you asked so nicely.”

  Eager for him, she slipped her mouth over his head and swallowed him. He was neither over long nor too thick. In her mind, he was perfect. A bit of a stretch to swallow him whole, but not so much she couldn’t enjoy having him fuck her mouth or her quim depending on his fancy.

  “Excellent, Kat. Take me deeper, as deep as you can and then pull back.” He dropped the material on the bed before his hand fisted in her hair.

  Drawing back, she allowed her tongue to trace the vein on the underside of his cock before she sank back down on him. His balls tightened up and quivered just before he withdrew from her moist warmth. With a groan, he yanked her top down to expose her breasts.

  Ripping, the material hooked below her cleavage plumping and lifting her already generous breasts. He dropped to his knees and sucked one nipple into his mouth. Tracing the whorl of her aureole with his tongue, he flicked the crest and bit down. Her body spasmed in response. With a satisfied grunt, he relocated to the other breast and repeated the caress.

  He caught her watching his tongue feather across her peak. She drew a deep breath when he smiled a predatory smile that made promises his body would keep. He tipped her back across the bed with a gentle prod and hauled her skirts up to her waist. Undeterred by her pantalets, he found the slit and wrenched them open with a tearing noise that made her heart leap with desire.

  “You have a beautiful mons, my dear.” His fingers slipped through her curls to part her wet folds, and then his tongue dove in. He ran the edge up the length of her heated sex to flick her clitoris with ruthless determination. Her legs shifted, a restless movement, until he pinned her hips down on the bed with his arms.

  “More, Sir. I need you inside me.” She clutched the sheets in distraction.

  He lifted his head from her thighs. “Touch your nipples. I want to watch you while I feast.”

  Grateful for a focus, she grabbed each nipple between her fingers to roll and pinch until he was satisfied she was following instructions. When he returned to devouring her, she gasped as he inserted a finger into her tight channel. Greedy for more, her body rippled around it. His tongue flicked her clit again as he inserted a second digit. She cried out in ecstasy as his fingers curved upward catching the spot that always made her crazed with lust. His insistent tongue and fingers continued working her until she believed she couldn’t stand it any longer. Finally, as she balanced on a knife’s edge of pleasure, her body broke and pure bliss rushed in to rack her in spasms.

  “Sir! Oh, sweet heavens.”

  Slowly, her body calmed as he continued lapping at her honey. Once she settled again, he rose from her thighs.

  “Slide back.” He loomed over her, his cock even harder than it had been before. Purplish and swollen, it looked painful.

  Kat was quick to inch her body backward until he commanded her to s
top with a simple touch. Then he knelt between her legs and took her wrists in one hand. Picking up the forgotten cravat, he lashed her hands together and pinned them to the bed over her head. Panic assailed her as he loomed over her helpless form. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing.

  It is Sir. He would not hurt me. Breathe.

  She opened her eyes and focused on the face hovering above her. He took his rod in the other hand and rubbed it in the wet crease of her body. Her fear faded as pleasure jolted through her. Merciless, he massaged her clit and teased her opening with the engorged tip until the need to cry out was more than she could contain.

  She broke. “Please.” It was more a whimper than anything.

  “Please what, Kat?”

  “Please, take me. Fill me as only you can, Sir.”

  On a grunt, he plunged into her body and seated himself to his balls. She could feel them squashed to her backside as he ground his pelvis against her. Then he withdrew until just the tip sat inside her body. He drove into her again, but drew back without hesitation. He continued the pattern stopping every so often to grind against her.

  Her body fluttered around his cock, always trying to draw him closer. Deeper. They both neared their climax as he continued to thrust into her, as he held her wrists not letting her go. She cried out, her hips rising to meet his as her world broke apart again. Her body screamed its release as pleasure swamped her senses causing her to lose touch with the corporeal. Coherence returned, and she found him pumping into her body one last time. Withdrawing, he came on her breasts milking his cock, running his hand up and down his length.

  The skirt of her maid’s uniform was used to clean off her chest, then her bindings were loosened before he collapsed next to her. After a few minutes, he sat her up and divested her of all her clothing. Naked, he picked her up and settled her under the covers of the massive bed and climbed in. He doused the lamp next to them, leaving the low glow of the fire to light the room. Kat sighed, exhausted and content. Despite her initial fear at being tied up, she had found the restraint freeing. It left her with no choice but to feel and to enjoy. Then sleep stole through her limbs, dragging her down into its restorative depths.

  Sometime later, groggy from her nap, she roused to the feel of his erection entering her still wet body. Her core opened to him, welcomed him as he slid into her. This time he was gentle, careful with her. It did not take long for them to find release. Her first, then he dragged his rigid flesh out and spilled on her stomach. Again, her dress was employed to clean up his cum and then he tugged her into his arms where they slept a bit longer.

  Kat awoke again to the gentle pressure of him nudging her arm.

  “It is getting late. The sun will be up soon if you wish to leave before daylight.”

  “I should go. Thank you,” she said, voice husky from sleep. Rising and seeing her clothes were a terrible mess, she walked nude across the room. With the snick of the door closing behind her, her chest ached a little. It was always a little disturbing to slip away in the night as though she were taking something not given of someone’s free will. With a resigned sigh, she set about dressing so she could return home. Back to reality. She tucked the mask into her cloak pocket when she left.

  Chapter Three

  Heath sat in the dining room reading the morning paper as he sipped his coffee. A deep sense of contentment warmed him from the inside out. It was always the same after an interlude with Kat.

  Christine sailed in, greeting him with a huge smile. “Good morning, Uncle Heath. You look well considering you were out all night.”

  All the blood drained from Heath’s face. His sense of well-being evaporated like a fine mist. What did she know? “What makes you think I was out all night?”

  “I heard you come in this morning just after dawn. I couldn’t sleep after having such a wonderful evening.” Her grin widened, if that were possible, and she spooned a mound of eggs onto her plate.

  “I was returning from my morning ride.” He folded his paper and set it aside striving for his usual calm.

  “In your evening wear? Come now, Uncle, who is she?” Christine pressed.

  Dear God, when had she gotten so blunt? So worldly? “Ladies do not ask such questions.”

  “But you taught me to speak my mind. Why would it surprise you I listened?”

  “Touché. I suppose I am not accustomed to being the subject of your inquisitiveness.” He took another sip of coffee. He might have been remiss in not taking a wife after his brother died leaving her in his care. No doubt she was more of a bluestocking than he had meant to raise.

  “I suppose not. But you, dear uncle, have still not answered my question. Who was she?”

  “That is none of your business, my too-curious niece. Now, what are your plans today and this evening?”

  “Eleanor and I plan to visit this new milliner who is making the best bonnets of the season. Later we will be joining Marian and Sarah at the Denton musical. I do hope Sarah leaves that awful cousin of hers behind.” She shuddered.

  “What is wrong with Sarah’s cousin?” Heath quirked an eyebrow at his ward.

  “She talks incessantly. I swear we won’t be able to hear Caroline Denton sing over the chatter.”

  “Perhaps she is simply nervous? Remember not everyone has your confidence and advantages,” Heath urged.

  The bright sound of Eleanor’s greetings to the butler sounded in the hall causing his niece to jump up from the table, peck his cheek and dash into the foyer.

  Alone, he realized he had an unexpected free night. Without question he would be heading to The Market to see if Kat was available for the evening again.

  ***

  The Market consisted of three row houses. The main house in the center contained the common rooms and Madame Marchander’s offices. From the street, the house on the left was for the average customer who was there to see one of the girls. The right side catered to those with less average desires and the income to indulge them. Kinks of all kinds could be found on the right side. Voyeurs were given something to watch, floggings could be both given and received, domination abounded, and orgies were not uncommon occurrences.

  Heath donned his mask and entered the plush main rooms. He glanced around for Philippe, the guest liaison who was always lurking about to see to any guest’s needs. Spying him across the salon, he approached.

  “Philippe, I was wondering of you could tell me if Kat is available this evening?”

  “I will check for you, Sir,” he responded in his broad Yorkshire accent.

  The man disappeared behind a tapestry masking a door to Madame’s office. Every member signed their membership agreement in that office. It covered the house rules such as the masks, penalties for exposing someone’s identity against their wishes, and other rules designed to protect the patrons of The Market. Heath walked over to the fireplace and stood staring at the crackling flames. It seemed like an eternity before the liaison returned.

  “Sir, I am afraid Kat is unavailable this evening. However, I did take the liberty of checking and Solange is at hand if you are so inclined.”

  Heath’s stomach tightened. Not available. She might be there, in the arms of some other man. That thought had his jaw hardening as his hands clenched in an unconscious forming of fists. It took a moment to rein in the inexplicable reaction. This was a house of pleasure. She was either a resident or a patron. He had no claim on her. “Solange will be acceptable. Thank you.”

  Heath followed Philippe to a room on the right side of the house and into the spacious bedroom and sitting room where Solange was already waiting for him. He studied her as she rose from the chair by the fire and knelt down. She had served him before and remembered his preferences. That or, the diligent Philippe had reminded her.

  “Come here, Solange.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He tracked her smooth motions as she rose and approached. Her golden hair glowed in the orange light of the fireplace limning her form. She wore
a transparent robe and nothing else.

  Stopped before him, she waited for his command. His cock lay flaccid as he looked into her deep green eyes. Peeling her robe open, he tweaked a nipple until it grew hard and then pinched the other one. Still his staff was less than interested. Desperate to push Kat from his mind, he leaned over, drew one of the pebbled tips into his mouth, and suckled. His eyes closed as he sought to savor the feel of her nub on his tongue. Instead, his closed lids acted as a backdrop for images of another woman, a dark haired woman with beautiful brown eyes. Kat.

  Releasing the peak, Heath stepped back and groaned in frustration. Solange looked at him as though she recognized something was disturbing him. Her eyes held a question he did not want to answer. Without a word, she dropped to her knees before him and worked the fastenings of his trousers until she released his soft member.

  A gentle stroke preceded more determined efforts. The warmth of her mouth encompassed him with ease. Then her tongue worked up and down his disinterested length and flared around the head to dip into the slit at the tip. Still no response. It dawned on him how futile this effort was, and how unfair to the woman before him. With a nudge, he slipped his cock from her mouth and tucked it away into his pants.

  “Sir? Was it something I did or did not do?”

  “No, Solange. It is apparent I was mistaken in thinking another would do in the place of the one I want. It is a situation I will remedy immediately. Thank you for your efforts, and I apologize for my body’s ungrateful response.” Heath helped her rise and retied her robe before kissing her on the forehead and leaving the room.

  He arrived back in the common rooms and found Philippe again.