Mastering a Sinner (14 page)

She swallowed hard and looked away from him. “I cannot.”

He snorted. “So much for trust. It seems that you expect everything from me, and aren’t willing to risk anything in return.”

She cast him a final scathing look and left, slamming the door behind her.

Alistair glared at the wooden panels of the door. She was impossible and she was putting him in an impossible situation. Why couldn’t she trust him? Didn’t she know that when he gave his loyalty he gave it for life?

He stood up, took the green case, shoved it in his top drawer, and locked it. To hell with it. He needed to speak to Lady Westbrook.

 

“Alistair, my dear, how may I help you?”

He took the seat opposite the smiling countess and waited patiently while she poured him a cup of tea, talked about the weather, and generally attempted to set him at ease.

“I have a request, my lady.”

“And what is that?” Her sharp blue gaze fastened on him, and he reminded himself that Faith Pelly was no fool, but an integral part of the continuing success of the Sinners.

“If you have information at hand about Lady Theale, may I see it?”

“Why would you want to do that, dear?” She patted his hand. “I know that you have become ‘close,’ but I’m fairly certain Diana would prefer you to ask her any questions you might have rather than seek information from me and her stepson.”

“I have asked her. She doesn’t trust me enough to answer.” He put down his cup. “If you do have any information, I would appreciate seeing it.”

“Nothing I know of her makes me believe she is a threat to you, Alistair.”

He set his jaw. “I’m not concerned about myself. I am quite capable of dealing with Lady Theale. I suspect her reasons for taking this job at the Sinners are more complex than we realized.”

“And I’m sure they are not.” She held his gaze. “If I had any information about Diana that I believed could harm you or the Sinners, I would share it with you.”

“Then you do know something?”

“What I know is safe in my hands.” She glanced away from him. “Is there anything else?”

“Lady Theale was asking whether the earl was returning this weekend.”

“Did she indeed?”

“She said you asked her to find out.”

“Oh.” The countess nodded vigorously. “That’s correct, I did ask her to ask you. I’d forgotten.”

Alistair stared at her in frustration. “Forgive me for my impertinence, Lady Westbrook, but are you protecting Lady Theale from me?”

“Why ever would I do that?”

“I’m not sure, but—”

“Alistair, dear, there is nothing to worry about. I swear it.” The countess sounded very firm. “If circumstances change, or Diana decides to confide in you herself, then I am quite willing to discuss the matter again. As it is, I have nothing more to say.”

He inclined his head an unwilling inch. “Then I will take my leave of you.” He hesitated. “But if you need my help, please let me know.”

“I will do that.” She searched his face. “Have you heard from your brother?”

“No, I have not.”

“Oh dear. Then what are you intending to do about the Demon club?”

Alistair stiffened. “How do you know about that?”

She shrugged. “I see all the morning post before it is distributed, and I noticed you had a letter from them. Their seal is very distinctive. Were they asking after Harry?”

“Yes, they expect to see him at one of their gatherings at the end of the month. I wrote them a note to tell them he wasn’t in London, and that they would have to wait.”

“They won’t appreciate that.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“You will be careful, won’t you, Alistair?”

“Of course I will.” He rose from his seat and bowed. “Good morning, my lady.”

“Don’t forget to speak to Adam and Diana about the entertainment scheduled for the second floor, will you?”

“It’s all in hand, my lady.” He bowed again and escaped through the door none the wiser than before he’d entered and in truth, rather more confused. Whatever she said, Lady Westbrook was protecting Diana. But from what? Alistair had no idea.

14

“M
r. Maclean. Mr.
Maclean.
”

Alistair looked up from the list he was consulting to find Diana in front of him. She wore one of her plainest gowns and had braided her hair tightly to her head, giving her the look of a schoolmarm. They were on the second floor surrounded by the chaos of organizing a night of salacious pleasures for the members of the club.

“How may I help you?”

“Where have you been?”

“In the cellar with Maddon deciding which wine to serve this evening.” He looked around the salon. “Is everything all right?”

“I can’t find the guest list.”

“Maddon should have it.” He didn’t move out of her path. “Are you attending the party this evening?”

“Of course I am.” Her gaze raked over him. “I assume that as Mr. Fisher and Lord Keyes are busy, we are both required to host the gathering.”

“I’m not sure you will wish to be surrounded by all these men.”

She smiled at him. “Oh, I think I’ll enjoy it immensely. It’s not often a woman is invited to an all-male Roman orgy. In fact, Mr. Maclean, I was going to ask you the same question. Knowing your particular habits, I assumed you wouldn’t wish to be there at all.”

“I’m there in an official capacity, not as a participant.”

“Of course not.”

He lowered his voice and his gaze. “Unless you wish it, my lady?”

She tapped him lightly on the cheek with her pen. “We have already established that you do not wish to participate in all-male orgies. I would much rather you attended to keep an eye on me.”

“I would do that anyway, my lady.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her ink-stained fingers.

“Despite being annoyed with me?”

“Despite that.”

“Then you don’t deny that you
are
vexed?”

He made himself meet her gaze. “I’ve told you why.”

Her mouth twisted. “Because you don’t trust me in bed or out of it.”

“In bed I’ve offered you complete power over me. You should not assume that my surrender means I am as easy to control in my everyday life.”

Her eyes flashed a warning. “You believe I would use your nature against you?”

“Why not? You wouldn’t be the first person to equate sexual submission with cowardice or weakness.” He tightened his grip on her fingers. “Tell me why you came to work at the Sinners.”

She looked away from him.

“
Tell
me.”

“It is a personal matter concerning my family.”

He let out his breath. “And?”

“And I am hardly going to discuss it here in the main salon of the Sinners with forty guests expected within the hour!”

“But you will tell me?”

She sighed. “After the conclusion of the orgy, I will . . . discuss the matter with you.”

“Thank you.”

Her slow smile made him stare at her luscious mouth, imagining it opening to take his cock . . .

“. . . If you will do something for me in return?”

He realized she was still speaking and staring up at him expectantly.

“What?”

“Dress appropriately for the event?”

“In a
toga?
”

“Oh no, I have something far more interesting for you to wear than that.” She crooked a finger at him. “Come with me.”

 

Diana gathered up the items she required from the main dressing room and turned to face Alistair, who had followed her into the small antechamber just off the hall that the servants used to access the rooms.

“Strip.”

His hands went to his cravat and then stilled. “Everything?”

“Yes, please.”

He carefully removed his clothes and placed them in a neat pile on a chair. Diana shook out the folds of the red-and-green-checkered woolen cloth and showed it to him.

His green eyes narrowed. “That’s the Maclean tartan.”

“I know.” She held it out to him. “It’s quite legal for you to wear it now. I gather you pleat it rather like a skirt at the hips and throw the end over your shoulder to cover your chest.”

“Aye, I know how to fashion a kilt.” His Scottish accent had noticeably thickened. “What does it have to do with a Roman orgy?”

“You’re a barbarian prisoner.” She showed him the manacles for his wrists and his ankles. “All you have to do is allow me to lead you around like a prize in a Roman Triumph.”

“Ah.”

She helped him gather the folds of the tartan around his hips and secure the weight of the fabric with a heavy leather belt.

“I like this, Mr. Maclean. You look remarkably wild. We will disguise your hair if you wish, or you may wear a mask.”

“A mask will be fine.”

She smoothed a hand over his chest and then stroked the leather belt. “There is one more thing, Mr. Maclean.”

“What is that, my lady?” he murmured.

“I want you hard under that kilt. Every time I touch your cock, I want it wet and ready to fuck. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, my lady. I’m hard now.”

She reached underneath the woolen fabric and gripped his shaft. “So I see.”

“If anyone else notices my aroused state, will you let them touch me too?”

She stroked her thumb over his crown, drawing out the wetness. “I haven’t decided that yet. Your primary function is to please me.”

“Yes, my lady.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Lady Theale? The actors and musicians from the pleasure house have arrived. Shall I bring them up to the main salon?”

“Yes, please, Mr. Maddon. I’ll be there in a moment.”

She opened the tin of polish she’d borrowed from the kitchen and randomly smeared some of the blacking over his torso and then drew lines along his cheekbones.

“Now you look quite ferocious.” She cupped his jaw and kissed his mouth. “You mustn’t forget your manacles.”

He half-smiled as she fitted the flimsy tin props on his wrists and then his ankles. “These are hardly capable of restraining me.”

“Perhaps we shall seek out better restraints afterward. I love to see you shackled and stretched out on a rack waiting for me to decide how to play with you.”

His breathing hitched.

Diana kissed him again, biting softly at his lower lip. “Go into the dressing room next door, find a mask, and meet me in the salon.”

He bowed and followed her out, his bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor.

In the main salon, a group of musicians was already setting up and tuning their instruments on the slightly raised stage at one end of the room. At the other end, Maddon supervised the laying out of a Roman-style supper complete with stuffed figs, vine leaves, and elaborately decorated meats. There were also copious flagons of wine, which the all-male servers would circulate throughout the room.

Long couches arranged in groups around low tables would provide places for the club members to dine and enjoy mingling with other guests. Diana spoke to all the servers, making sure they knew that they were welcome to accept sexual offers from the guests if they chose, but would not be penalized if they didn’t indulge. As all the servers were from the pleasure house and were well used to such evenings, Diana had little fear the event wouldn’t progress smoothly.

She noticed there were two other men dressed as barbarians, both with long black hair who also belonged to the pleasure house and who were also willing to be fucked by the guests. With his auburn hair, Alistair Maclean would fit in well.

After making sure that everyone was in place, Diana retired to dress with the help of her maid in a diaphanous Roman tunic, which barely covered her breasts and was secured at her shoulder with a heavy brass pin. She kept her hair in one simple braid down her back and added a gold necklace and matching bracelets. Seeing as it was an all-male orgy, she certainly wasn’t too worried about her virtue, but it would be helpful to have a glowering Alistair Maclean chained to her side.

As the hostess, she also donned a golden mask. She found Alistair in the main salon, arms folded over his chest, leaning back against the wall. His keen gaze observed the staff, noting every detail. She touched his muscled arm.

“It’s time to allow the guests in.” She moved closer to whisper. “Some of the women want to watch as well, so I told them to use the peepholes.”

“Why would women want to watch men copulate?”

She chuckled. “Why wouldn’t they? The idea that women don’t enjoy such things is very old-fashioned, Mr. Maclean. If one man is worth having and watching, why not two?”

He was saved from replying as the double doors opened and the male guests started to crowd into the space. With a nod from her, the musicians struck up a quiet melody and the servers began to move among the guests offering sweetmeats, wine, and other more salacious services.

Diana watched for a while to see that everything was progressing properly and then turned to Alistair with a relieved sigh. “I think it is going well.”

“Of course it is. We planned it perfectly.”

“Well, you did.”

“And you provided the necessary resources from the pleasure house.”

“We work well together.” She reached down a hand and toyed with the hem of his kilt before sliding one proprietal hand up his muscled thigh.

“Mmm . . . hard and hot.” He remained perfectly still as she explored his cock and balls, her fingers tugging at the coarse auburn hair of his groin. “I can’t wait to strip you later and see how wet you are.”

“Yes . . . please, my lady.”

She pinched his shaft and he shuddered. “We need to circulate, barbarian slave. Come with me.”

She tugged on his chain, and he obediently fell in behind her, his manacles rattling as he walked, his head bowed and his gaze averted. As one of the servers passed her, she picked up a goblet of red wine and drank from it.

“Are you thirsty, barbarian?”

“Only for you, my lady.”

She offered him the goblet and let him drink, rubbing her thumb over his mouth to clear off the drops of wine.

“You are too kind to your slave, my lady,” a loud voice boomed over her shoulder.

“Do you think so, senator?”

“Feeding him wine? He should be on his knees feeding you.”

“He will be, do not doubt it.” With a smile, Diana moved on, bringing Alistair with her. Whenever she stopped to talk or simply observe, she put her hand on him, owning his tight bicep and even tighter stomach, exploring the gaps where his belt and the bunched fabric revealed glimpses of his muscled buttocks and the groove running from his hip to his groin.

Smiling, she bit his earlobe. “When I have you alone, I’m going to lick a path all the way down from your chest to your cock and then to your hips.”

“I would like that.”

“I know.”

The music increased in volume and some of the men found partners to share their couches or retreated to the more discreet closed rooms along the corridor. Diana continued to smile graciously and direct the staff, as did Mr. Maclean. At one point when they were by the buffet, she made him kneel beside her while she fed him from her fingertips.

“Lord Minshom and his wife hold the occasional weekend gathering at their country house. I could bring you with me and keep you like this for three days. Do you think you would enjoy that, Mr. Maclean?”

He leaned in, took the food from between her fingers, and licked them clean. “Aye, my lady.”

“Although I also wish I could keep you chained to my desk here and have your mouth on me whenever I wanted.”

“That would make it difficult for me to complete my own work, my lady.”

She chuckled. “That’s true. I don’t think Mr. Fisher would approve.”

He almost smiled and she ruffled his hair. “Are you still hard for me, Mr. Maclean?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Stand up and face me.”

He rose to his feet and stared down at the ground.

“Lift up your plaid and show me.”

He slowly raised the tartan to reveal the hard thrust of his cock. Diana stroked a finger down the red pulsing length.

“Does the wool chafe?”

His nod was brusque.

“Do you like it?”

“Aye.”

A discreet cough behind Alistair made Diana look up to find Maddon staring at her. “My lady, may I have a word?”

“Certainly. I’ll be there in a moment.”

She stood and pulled down the plaid. “Come with me, Mr. Maclean.”

She took him down to one of the rooms, which had been decorated to look like a punishment cell for slaves. There were two other men in there, one being beaten with a whip, and the other kneeling in chains as he sucked the cock of a man dressed as a Roman soldier.

“Stand against the wall, and put your hands over your head.”

When he complied, she shackled his wrists tightly to the iron spike. “You can wait for me here. I’ll tell the guard that no one may fuck you, but me.” She bit his nipple hard. “But they may look, and they may touch and you must not come.”

 

Alistair watched Diana walk away to find Maddon and considered what might be wrong. Surely, she should’ve taken him with her? They were supposed to be co-hosting the event. He moved his feet into a wider stance, making his cock press harder against the rough fibers of the woolen cloth. Looking down, there was no mistaking the thrust of his shaft even through the tartan, and he had no ability to rearrange the cloth.

The doorway to the “dungeon” was left open so that guests could enter and participate at will. He caught a glimpse of a blonde accompanied by an all-too familiar figure and stiffened. What in God’s name was Sir Ronald Fairbanks doing in the Sinners? He pulled at his restraints, but Diana had tied him up properly, and he couldn’t get free. Before he could even process that thought, or act further on it, a young man in a toga blocked his view.