The Sinners Club (10 page)

“Equipment for what?”

“You know, rope and gags and other useful items for ensuring a man cannot come unless he's allowed to. That was your plan, wasn't it?”

He bowed. “Then perhaps we should go our separate ways and meet again in a few minutes in Simon's room.”

“Agreed.”

She made sure he left first, and then turned to Simon, who was regarding her with a somewhat quizzical expression.

She raised her chin. “I had no choice. He was beginning to ask such awkward questions.”

“That you decided to sacrifice me to the lions?”

She touched his arm. “You don't mind, do you? If it is still distasteful, I'll think of something else.”

“No, I've always liked being tied up, you know that.” He kissed her nose. “I suspect I might even enjoy myself. Mr. Smith is very skilled.”

“Surprisingly so for a man with such a stuffy exterior.”

“Still waters run deep, my dear. Look at the old earl.” He patted her cheek. “Also be careful.”

“I am being careful. What are you worried about?”

“I still don't think Mr. Smith is being entirely honest with us about his purpose here.”

She turned back. “Why?”

“He seems rather too interested in our past. He's been questioning the servants about where we came from, and when we arrived here.”

“I wouldn't expect anything less from a man of his intelligence. I don't think he liked George Mainwaring at all, which is good. But he's still in the pay of the potential new earl. He's not going to throw in his lot with us completely, is he?”

“Maybe we should tie him up and attempt to extract his secrets.”

Mary opened the door. “I suspect he'd enjoy the experience far too much, and not reveal anything at all. He is something of an enigma, isn't he?”

“He certainly is, but heed my words and be
careful.”

 

She returned to her bedchamber and, with the help of her maid, changed out of her formal dress and into a loose gown with ribbon fastenings and lace. She kept her corset and shift on as well as her stockings and garters. Men seemed to like that, and she wanted to distract Mr. Smith's attention from her belly as much as possible. Covering everything in a thick robe, she stole down the corridor to the bachelors' quarters and let herself in to Simon's bedroom. He'd already stoked up the fire and stood beside it, his gaze fixed on Mr. Smith, who sat in one of the large wingchairs facing him.

“Ah, my lady.” Their guest rose to his feet and bowed. “Shall we have him strip for us, first?”

“That would be an excellent place to start.” Mary took off her outer robe and glided toward him, aware of his intent gaze dropping to her bosom and the sheen of her skin beneath the thin silk of her frivolous nightgown. “Do you want me to fetch the ropes and the other items?”

“Let's start with the ropes. We can decide what we need once he's suitably restrained.”

A tremor ran through Simon's solid frame as Mary found the drawer full of ropes and laid them on the bed.

Mr. Smith patted his knee. “Will you sit with me?”

She obliged, settling herself with deliberate slowness against the hard planes of his stomach and the even stiffer bulge of his cock. He'd taken off his coat, cravat, and waistcoat, and wore just his shirt and breeches.

“Disrobe, Mr. Picoult, and do it slowly.”

Simon stared straight ahead and started to take off his clothes, dropping each layer to the floor until he was down to his breeches and shirt.

“I see you're hard again, Mr. Picoult.”

“Yes.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Mary shivered at the deliciously hard note in Mr. Smith's command. He slid his hand around her waist, drawing her back against him; his thumb nudged the underside of her breast and she wiggled.

He bit her ear. “Wait until we have your brother settled, and then I'll see you are well satisfied too.”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed, and he kissed her throat.

“Continue, Mr. Picoult. I didn't tell you to stop. Your breeches and then your shirt.”

Simon complied, his breath hissing out as he eased the buttons of his placket open against the heavy swell of his trapped shaft.

“He's beautiful, isn't he?” she whispered to Mr. Smith.

“Indeed he is.”

For a moment they just stared at the naked man who stood in front of them, his hands fisted at his sides, his cock curving up and inward toward his tightly muscled belly.

“I'm surprised you can fit him all in your mouth, my lady. I found him large for me.”

“Practice, Mr. Smith. If you want something badly enough, you'll make room for it.”

Under her bottom, his cock kicked up. “I'll hold you to that, my lady.”

She smiled. “I hope you do. I've spent several hours recently wondering whether I could manage you both in my mouth.”

His lips descended over hers and he kissed her with a savagery that made her instantly wet. When he tore his mouth away from hers, he was breathing hard.

“One thing at a time. Let's deal with Mr. Picoult first.”

Despite her concerns of not being able to manage him, she was glad she could affect him so strongly. It made her feel powerful.

“Get up on the bed, Mr. Picoult.”

Simon obliged, his muscled limbs gleaming in the candlelight.

“Kneel between the two end posts of the bed, please and stretch out your arms.” Mr. Smith looked at Mary. “Which ropes do you think will be best to secure his wrists to the posts?”

She slid off his lap and went over to the pile. “These silk ones.” She held up a matching pair. “They are strong but they don't mark the skin.”

He glanced at her and nodded, but didn't comment on her choice or her obvious knowledge. She gave him one of the ropes and followed his lead as to how he wanted to tie the knots. Simon waited patiently, his breathing erratic, his cock already wet with pre-cum.

When he was satisfied with the tension in the ropes, Mr. Smith turned his attention to the chest of drawers.

“There are more items here?”

“Yes.” She opened one of the drawers at random. “What do you want?”

“A cock ring.”

She shut the drawer and opened another. “Metal or leather?”

“You have both?”

“Naturally.”

He moved to look over her shoulder, his breath stirring her hair. “Leather can be pulled tighter and causes less damage.”

She handed him the leather contraption, and he spent a moment familiarizing himself with the buckles and straps. She liked watching his hands work; they were extraordinarily strong and graceful.

He swung around to Simon, who was watching them avidly, and strolled across to him.

“Have you worn this before?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you like it?” He wrapped the first circle of leather around the base of Simon's cock and looped the narrower straps around his balls, bringing all the elements together. “I'm going to make it tight and if you complain or start to come, I'm going to go up another notch so you'll beg for release.”

He fed the strap through the buckle and started to tighten it. Simon's hands clenched into fists as his captured balls were drawn up against the thick leather band around the base of his cock. His shaft was swollen and thick, wetness streaming from the now uncovered crown of his cock.

Mr. Smith's mouth hovered over the slit for a second before his tongue came out to taste the pre-cum. Mary leaned in as well, breathing in the well-remembered scent of leather and sex.

“What else?” Mr. Smith looked at her. “Something for his arse, perhaps?”

She nodded and led him back to the armoire, opening a drawer that contained a variety of phalluses in various sizes in jade and stone and leather. He selected a thick leather one, and held it out to Mary.

“You have oil, too?”

“Yes.” She stroked her finger along the leather. “This is quite big.”

“Should it be bigger?”

“No, it's perfect.”

Her gaze flew up to discover his blue eyes were narrowed with lust. He looked nothing like the quiet, well-mannered secretary of a potential earl now. Reaching out, she removed his glasses from his nose and tucked them in his pocket, which only added to his allure.

“We wouldn't want these getting in the way, would we?”

He smiled at her and she couldn't look away. “Thank you. Do call me Jack.”

“If you will call me Mary.”

She was the first to move away and busy herself finding a vial of oil. She placed it in Jack's hand. He climbed onto the bed behind Simon and ran his finger down the bound man's spine and between his buttocks.

Simon's eyes half-closed, and he arched his back.

“Do you want your arse filled with this nice, thick phallus, Mr. Picoult?”

“Yes, please, sir.”

Mary held her breath as he poured some oil onto his fingers and they disappeared between the cheeks of Simon's arse.

“Ah, that's good...”

“I didn't say you could speak, Mr. Picoult.” Jack picked up the leather phallus and coated it with oil. “If you do it again, I'll have to gag you. Don't come.”

Mary realized she was still holding her breath as Jack slowly eased the thick leather into Simon. She knew how it would feel, the sense of pressure, the hugeness, the sense of being stuffed full to bursting. She cupped her breast and pinched her nipple hard. Jack glanced at her but didn't comment as he focused on sliding the whole phallus into Simon's arse and securing it with leather straps.

“What do you think, Mary?”

She moved to stand directly beside Jack. “He looks... full.”

“I believe he is.” He held out his hand to her. “Shall we continue?”

She waited until he climbed off the bed and walked around to view Simon from the front, his tightly strapped shaft and balls and outstretched arms. His chest was heaving as if he'd been running.

Jack maneuvered a chair to sit right in front of Simon and then sat in it, taking Mary down on his lap. He spread his knees wide, spreading hers with them, and undid the ribbons that held the front of her gown together with practiced, deft fingers. He drew up her shift to expose her sex. The cold air on her already heated, throbbing flesh made her shiver as he cupped her mound.

“Will you play with your breasts, while I play with you?”

“Yes.”

Simon shifted slightly and licked his lips, his gaze drawn to Jack's hand between her legs. She smiled at him and circled her hips, pressing her swollen bud against Jack's hard palm. He murmured his appreciation, his fingers caressing her folds, teasing and tempting her needy flesh until she was wet and open.

“Please,” she whispered, her fingers plucking hard at her nipples.

He obliged and slid two fingers deep through her slick heat, his thumb planted on her bud as he worked her. She tilted her hips trying to find her satisfaction, her knees wide, her whole sex exposed to both men. Jack added more fingers and increased the strength of his thrust and withdrawal, until she felt a wave of heat crash into her, making her spasm and tremble into ecstasy.

“That's nice, my lady.” He kissed her throat. “Did you like that, Mr. Picoult?”

“God, yes.”

“You'll like this even more.” He lifted Mary until her feet were planted on either side of his thighs. “Take my cock, now, and do it slowly so our captive can see your cunt swallow every inch.”

He held both his cock and her steady as she slowly impaled herself on his impressively long and thick length. She started coming even before he was fully sheathed, but he didn't stop, he just kept pressing onward making her climax last forever. When she was settled over him, one of his hands returned to her clit and the other to her breasts.

“Does she like to be pinched, Mr. Picoult?”

“Yes.”

“Hard?”

“Yes.
”

Mary squirmed as his fingers plucked at her nipple and her bud.

“You'll be sore tomorrow, but I like to think that every time you notice the tenderness you'll remember sitting on my cock like this, feeling the pleasure and pain of it and wanting more.”

Another climax crashed over her and she gasped.

“Ride me, then, my lady. Make me come hard.”

She didn't need a second invitation. Fixing her gaze on Simon, she started to rock back and forth, lifting herself and falling back down until she was gasping for breath, for it to end, for
—God,
she ground herself down on his willing cock, milking his length as he wrapped an arm around her hips in an iron grip and held her captive while he pumped into her.