“How do you fare, my love?” he asked softly, tucking hair behind her ear.
She studied his face, still searching for some sign that this was a ruse. Adam felt her heavy breast and stroked the backs of his fingers over her nipple to reassure her. Had this night changed her? Woken his virgin up to the many delights available in this city to a beautiful woman with no attachments?
“How fare thee?” he asked again while pressing the cheek of his mask to hers as if four impatient and horny men weren’t waiting for the chance to sink into his wife. Or rather, his girl. He swallowed down his nervousness, reasoning that Lucy had every right to experience this and whatever else her heart — and cunny — desired.
Adam paused and drew back to look at her. And then she smirked. “Don’t go quoting Shakespeare to me, Adam Chevestrer, not when you’re still in trouble.”
He laughed. He wasn’t quoting anything but the stuttering rhythm of his heart, yet he liked to see Lucy with fire in her eyes. Game for her next conquest.
With that, she leaned her forearms against the armrest of his chair to present to Stagshade, who was oiling his cock in that showy manner he favored.
“Has your girl got a virgin arse, Sapwood? Would be a shame for someone that is me,” he said, clearly fitting himself at her entrance, “to take it. Right in front of you.”
Adam groaned as he watched Lucy’s eyelashes flutter as she took Stagshade’s cock in her untried hole. “Easy on her, that’s my girl’s virgin arse you’re taking.”
“Oh, Adam,” she moaned, her head hanging as she took that thick cock. He couldn’t wait to test her there himself. He’d start in her cunny, then slide into her back passage and flood her without concern about happy accidents.
Adam paused. And what if tonight resulted in a happy accident? What if Lucy swelled with some other man’s child?
Rage swept through him. If one of these Bucks thought they’d marry his Lucy, they had another think coming. Nobody was taking her from him on some technicality that came aboutbecause of his own mistake. He’d be the one beside her, the one raising the baby.
“Adam, your cock,” she whispered, bringing him back to the room and settling his rage at the hypothetical loss of his wife.
He’d gotten used to the feeling of pleasurable restriction, but when he glanced down and saw that his boy was standing against the cage again, trying to press through, Adam winced. He shifted his thighs and tried to minimize the disturbing sight of his caged cock. “It’s fine, love, he’s just reaching for you.”
Lucy braced a hand on the back of his chair to take Stagshade’s thrusts and ran her fingers over the wires his erection had been fighting with all night. She pressed at a small place his cockhead emerged from between the wires, then stroked his shaft in a way that made Adam flex his thighs to keep himself in check.
He wasn’t showing his boy to his best advantage, crammed against those wires. The Bucks had seen him in many stages, but not bound and controlled. And what of Lucy? Did she think him less a man for containing his cock? Or — and the thought sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine — would she want him like this again?
“Fuck, she’s taking me, milking me,” grit out Stagshade as he pounded into Lucy with a roar.
“You’re taking the Bucks so well, love,” said Adam, pressing the snout of his mask to her ear as if to kiss it and whispering cant from his Covent Garden days to her alone. What did he say? Hecouldn’t remember the meaning by now, so paved over was his past. But he didn’t want to pretend to be some son of a rich man with her, some scion of the aristocracy. He’d humble himself to be her match.
Stagshade pulled out of Lucy, and another Buck took his place.
“On the Forest floor, like you did for the Rutlord,” said the High Buckthorn behind Lucy.
She scrambled to her hands and knees, placing her at eye level with Adam’s bound cock. “You look good like this,” she said with an impish smile, bringing her gaze to his eyes within the mask.
His heart leaped, and he groaned at the surge of his flesh against those metal wires. She approved of him. Approved of him like this. When he’d bought that cage as a novelty, he never imagined that he’d wear it, certainly not for a woman, in front of men he respected. But it was always meant to be this way; he’d been drawn to that cage for a reason: so he might feel more free. And she was the person teaching him to fly.
Adam ran a finger below her chin, happy to have her with him again.
“But I think it’s time you submit to me,” she said, her expression stern.
Chapter 7
Lucy Makeblythe was ontop of the world. She had the admiring attention of an entire group of men, a cock in her cunny, and Adam Chevestrer caged for her delectation.
And, oh, it was delicious to see that fine piece restrained on her orders. He shifted on his throne uncomfortably. Though his deer mask prevented Lucy from seeing his expression, she imagined a pained grimace on his face. Good. She only wished she could see it.
“Does it hurt, love?” she asked with a too-sweet voice. The High Buckthorn was alternating teasing strokes at the entrance of her channel with long thrusts, and she feared she wouldn’t last long. She needed to break Adam before she departed the Forest.
“It hurts so good, as you know, minx,” he ground out, the whine in his voice healing something deep within her. “How does my brother Buck feel?”
“Big,” she moaned dramatically. “Like I’ve never properly had to take a cock before.”
She was overdoing it, but teasing Adam was probably her favorite thing, fighting for the title with taking his money and fucking him. After a lifetime of forcing herself into a social cage in hopes of being good enough to survive in a harsh world, she was reveling in how much she loved breaking the rules and being in control. If that made her a bad girl, so be it.
