??d buttoned his trousers, but it did little to hide the magnificent erection bulging there, although he didn’t seem to care—or notice as people stared at it hungrily.
I assumed we were going upstairs, but he stopped me at the ballroom steps, making me stand on the lowest one while he stayed on the ballroom floor. The extra six inches meant that I was now exactly at his height, able to stare into his emerald eyes and see the wicked intent glinting there. A trickle of fear triggered a flood of lust. Yes. I was doing the right thing. This is what I wanted.
“Raise your skirts, Ivy,” he ordered, the tortured tenderness from earlier gone. He was the teacher once again, commanding and stern. My whole body surged with want at that sternness.
I obeyed him, lifting my skirts to my knees, exposing my silk stockings.
“To your waist,” he corrected me.
A crowd was starting to gather around us, drunk guests, sober guests, all watching the legendary Julian Markham finally bring his wayward fiancée to heel. I gathered that somehow we were the main event, that Julian was important among them, and that they were tacitly invited to my subjugation.
This was hard. I’d forgotten how hard it was to obey sometimes. But I did it, hoping that the silk and lace hid my trembling as I raised my skirts higher, knowing that my naked sex was now visible to the crowd.
There were murmurs, but Julian ignored them as he once again freed his thick organ. With one hand wrapped around himself and his other arm seizing me around the waist, he pulled me close and entered me in one rough thrust. We’d never fucked like this before, and the angle was new and strange and I needed a minute to adjust—
But there was no time to adjust because then he took my leg and slung it over his arm, widening his access to me and also exposing even more of me to the crowd. He slid in and out with long, sure strokes, keeping me balanced as he showed everyone in the ballroom whom I belonged to.
“Do you see them watching you?” he said in a low voice as he continued to fuck me. “They’re watching your pussy stroke my cock. They’re watching your tits push against your dress. They want to fuck you too. They want to pass you around and take turns with you, to mark you like property.”
I moaned. It was a thought I would never entertain in my right mind, but I wasn’t in my right mind, not with that thick cock stroking me with its slow, inexorable strokes, and right now, I would consent to anything. If Mr. Markham willed it, I would let myself be taken by this crowd of strangers and I would come on cock after cock, all while he watched.
“Lucky for you, I’m too much a jealous man,” he said. “Your cunt and your ass—they’ll only ever know my cock. But other mouths? Other hands?”
The crowd surrounded us now, and I hadn’t realized that Helene and Adella were behind me, until I heard Adella’s melodic Gallic accent as she told me to hold still. I turned to see what was happening, and then I realized that the girls were undressing me, tugging my dress off my body, and then Mr. Markham pulled out of me, leaving me empty and wanting, but there was no way I could protest because then he was kissing my mouth as they continued to strip me out of my clothes.
Mr. Markham unknotted his tie as he kissed me, and then he pulled back so that Helene could tug at the ribbon holding my mask in place. I hadn’t realized how protected it had made me feel, having my face partially shielded from view, but once it was gone, I felt more exposed than ever, even though I was already next to naked.
My corset went last, and so I stood in my stockings, my hair still perfectly coiffed, feeling the cool air kiss the wet skin between my thighs and I knew that everyone could see my arousal. I only hoped that everyone didn’t include my poor aunt, but the thought evanesced as soon as it came, irrelevant, unwanted. My only job, my one task, was to be right here, doing Mr. Markham’s bidding. I didn’t have to worry about anything else, because I knew that he would take care of me. He would make sure I was safe.
He wound his tie around his hand and unwound it, his jaw tight as he surveyed me. “Now it’s time to pray to be forgiven,” he said, unwinding the length of silk for the last time. “Now it’s time to show me how contrite you really can be.” He stepped backward, clearing a space for me on the ballroom floor. I followed him.
“Kneel, wildcat.”
I knelt.
He walked behind me and then the silk tie rasped over my skin, settling with a cool weight over my eyes and the bridge of my nose. The world went completely dark as it was tied tightly at the back of my head. I heard him walking around me, examining me, and then his low baritone as he was in front of me once more.
“Open your mouth.”
I did as I was told, parting my lips in welcome. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip, then pulled it down so my mouth was open even wider.
I was given no warning, no hint, when he abruptly pushed into my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat. I willed myself to relax, not to gag, as he moved in and out. I could taste myself on him, smell our clandestine intimacy on his skin, and when I thought about how it must look—me, naked and blindfolded and kneeling, and him, masked and thrusting into my mouth, I grew almost desperate with the need for…for something. It was to be fucked, yes, but it was also to fuck, to give pleasure as well as receive it, and nothing sounded more delicious than making Julian come with my mouth and my tongue. I loved the noises he made when he was close, the way his stiff cock grew even larger in that potent, intoxicating moment right before he released. I always felt like a goddess then; like in the end, he had been the one to surrender somehow, even though it was me who was bound and exposed.
I bobbed my head faster, flattening my tongue against him, and I was rewarded by his hands threading through my hair and pulling it hard as he took control and started fucking my mouth with a ruthless, almost cruel pace. I heard one, two, three hairpins drop to the marble floor as he twined his fingers tighter and tighter around my tresses, and I also heard the breathless whispers and sex noises of the crowd around us.
And just as I thought he was careening over the edge, when I was sure that he would drive into my mouth one final time and erupt, he was gone—his cock out of my mouth, his hands off my head. He’d been almost holding me up by my hair and so I fell forward onto my hands, on all fours now.
Julian bent down and whispered in my ear. “I’ve been saving myself for you, Ivy. When I come, I’m not wasting it on your mouth. When I come, I want to be deep inside of you and I want your pussy tight and swollen around me then. So let’s get that cunt ready for me, shall we?”
“It’s ready now,” I said. I tried to rise up on my knees but was pushed back down. His hand was warm against the center of my back, pressing down on the spot in between my shoulder blades and running along the curve of my back. I froze when it reached my tailbone and it stopped for a minute, and then he trailed a deliberate track down to my quivering cunt. My cunt, which everybody could see.
His voice went even quieter. “Does this embarrass you, wildcat? Does it humiliate you?”
I nodded.
“Then why are you so wet?” His fingers danced over my drenched folds, prodding and pressing.
“You know why,” I whispered.
