Sophie's Voice (Sex and the Season Book 4) (14 page)

S
ophie pushed backward slowly
until her knees hit the piano bench, and she sat down with a plop. “What is it, Zach?”

“Please don't leave me, Sophie.”

The need in his voice shattered her defenses. She had every intention of continuing to see him at rehearsal. “Zach, I've made a commitment to the production. I will not leave it.”

“Damn it, Sophie, that's not what I meant.” Zach let out a heavy sigh. “For the love of God, never mind.” He turned and then looked over his shoulder. “I'll see you at rehearsal tomorrow, bright and early.” He left the conservatory, his boots thudding on the marble flooring.

Sophie stood, mouth agape. Since when had Zach Newland become so emotional? She didn't want to stop seeing him, but could she go against her stepfather's wishes?

She smiled to herself. Yes. For Zach, she would defy her stepfather. She hated to do it, after all the earl had done for her, Ally, and their mother. He absolutely adored their mother, and he treated Ally and Sophie like his own daughters. Why wouldn't he allow Zach to court her? After all, gentlemen weren't exactly lining up for favors. They never had been.

She had already gone further with Zach than she ever imagined, especially outside the bonds of matrimony. Perhaps she should talk to Ally, or maybe her mother. If she told her mother how much fun she had with Zach, how fond she was of him, perhaps her mother would talk to the earl and get him to change his mind. She truly wanted to be courted by Zach out in the open. This sneaking around was very difficult for her. Sophie obeyed the rules. She was not Ally.

Yes, Ally. Ally would know what to do. Sophie left the conservatory and went up the two back staircases to Ally's suite of rooms on the third level. She knocked lightly. The door opened, and Evan stood there. “Evan, how is Ally doing? I'd like to see her.”

Evan shook his head. “I'm sorry, Sophie. Ally is sleeping, and I don't want her disturbed.”

Sophie understood. Days or even weeks would pass before Ally was back to her usual energetic self. “All right, Evan. Thank you.”

“I'll be happy to come find you if she wakes up.”

“Yes, please. I would appreciate that.”

Sophie walked quietly to the door of the nursery and peeked in. The new baby nurse, Mrs. Oakes, was feeding baby Sophie. Maureen was asleep in her bassinet.

“Do you mind?” Sophie asked.

Mrs. Oakes smiled and handed her little Sophie. The baby was warm in Sophie's arms, and happiness engulfed her. Only a week ago, Sophie had resigned herself to doting on her cousins' and sister's babies. Now, for the first time, a man was interested in her.

Sophie didn't delude herself that Zach's interest would definitely lead to marriage, but without the courtship, there was no chance of marriage or her own babies. Why had the earl refused Zach's request? Sophie had lived on the earl's estate for a year now, and other than Van Arden, no man had come calling for her.

She knew what Ally would advise her to do—the same thing Ally would do if she were in her place. Defy authority and continue to see Zach on the sly. They couldn't be seen in public, but that hadn't been a problem so far. They'd taken a few walks around the estate. That was it. The rest of their interactions had taken place behind closed doors.

Sophie handed the baby back to Mrs. Oakes. She would like nothing better than to stay with the babies all afternoon, but she did have music practice. She headed down the stairs.

Graves met her at the bottom of the stairs with a parchment. “This message was just delivered for you, my lady.”

“Thank you, Graves.” Sophie took the parchment and opened it. Another ominous note in the same handwriting.
You are closer to being mine all the time. I will eliminate all obstacles.

Sophie's skin chilled. This one was bothersome. It seemed almost…threatening.

If only Ally were awake. Sophie desperately needed to discuss these notes with her. She had been assuming they were from Zach—however, Zach had just left her an hour ago. Would he have sent a note in that short of time? Perhaps he left a note with Graves or left a note for Graves to find. But could Zach have written this one? The tone was…odd. Frightening, even.

Sophie ascended the stairs once again to Ally's room and knocked gently. Evan opened the door.

“I'm so sorry, Evan. I just thought I would check and see if Ally had awakened. I do need to speak to her.”

“Actually, you're in luck,” Evan said. “She is awake, and she has asked me to go get the babies for her. While I am getting Mrs. Oakes to bring them into her, you may have a few moments. Just don't upset her or wear her out.”

“Thank you. I would never do anything to upset her.”

Sophie entered the bedchamber. Ally lay on her bed, her head and shoulders propped up slightly by a pillow. She smiled when Sophie entered.

“Sophie, what a lovely surprise.”

“How are you feeling, Ally? You're looking better.”

“Oh, please, spare me the untruths. Evan brought me a looking glass, and I look simply ghastly. But I am feeling a bit better.”

“I'm so glad to hear that,” Sophie hedged a bit. How could she bring this up? “Evan gave me a few minutes to talk to you. I got another note from my secret person.” She handed the note to Ally.

Ally read it. “This is a puzzler.”

“I was thinking they were from Zach. He actually asked the earl for permission to court me—”

“He what?” Ally's mouth broke into a broad grin.

“Yes, you heard correctly. I was surprised as you are.”

“Oh, Sophie, I didn't mean it that way.”

“I know you didn't. And I do want to talk to you about that further. But what do you make of this note?”

“It's probably still from Zach. By ‘eliminating all obstacles,' he probably means that he wants to eliminate your insecurities so that you can play the role on stage with confidence.”

Sophie nodded. That did make sense. “But what about ‘you are closer to being mine all the time?'”

“Well, if he's asked to court you, that part seems self-explanatory. However, it could also mean that you will be his in the sense of him making you into the performer you were destined to be on the stage.”

“I suppose… But here's the thing, Ally. The earl refused to allow Zach to court me.”

“He did?” Ally opened her eyes wide. “Why would he do that?”

“Apparently he doesn't think Zach is good enough for me, a lady of the peerage. He seems to have forgotten that no other suitors have come calling.”

“Do you want to be courted by Zach Newland?”

“Well, of course. We've already been…rather intimate together. It's nice to know that he actually has some feelings for me in other ways as well.”

Ally smiled. “Of course he does. He would be silly not to. You're a charming woman, Sophie. You're the only one who doesn't know it.”

Sophie's cheeks warmed. Why in the world did everyone think she was more than what she was? She still hadn't reconciled her desire to be spanked by Zach, and she perhaps never would. Maybe the best thing would be to stop seeing him altogether, rather than bring out a side of herself she wasn't sure she wanted to understand.

Sophie opened her mouth to speak, but Mrs. Oakes and Evan strode into the bedroom, each carrying a bundle.

Ally's eyes brightened. “Oh, Evan, let me see them. Please.”

Evan handed little Maureen to Ally, and then Mrs. Oakes handed her little Sophie as well. Ally held both babies, one in each arm.

“Are you feeling up to nursing?” Mrs. Oakes asked.

“I'm quite fatigued, but I would like to try.”

Sophie squeezed Ally's shoulder. “I'll leave you some time with your husband and children. Thank you for the talk, Ally.”

“Anytime, my dear, you know that. Before you leave though, there are some papers in my bureau I'd like you to look at. Top drawer.”

Sophie nodded, grabbed the papers, and left.

When she returned to her own chamber, she unclenched the papers in her hand and began to read.

“
T
he Marquess
and Marchioness of Gutenberg.”

Priscilla, known as Prissy, the Countess of Peacock, turned to her husband. “Oh, Percy, it is so good to see Gutenberg and Fannie.”

Lord Peacock cleared his throat. “Yes, my dear, I know how you and Fannie enjoy a good frolic. And I am looking forward to spanking both your bums this evening.”

Prissy warmed all over. How she loved to have her arse spanked, and not just by her husband but by comely Fannie, the Marchioness of Gutenberg.

“I think our party is all here, Percy. Viscount McHunt and his lady, the Earl of Hardwood and his lovely mistress, Sarah Nora, and of course Baron Beaverhausen and his beautiful baroness.”

Peacock cleared his throat. “My esteemed ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending our house party. If you will all follow, we shall enter the ballroom, which has been handsomely equipped for this evening.”

Prissy loved the house parties she and her husband threw. “Ladies,” she called, “if you would come with me, I will take you to the ladies' retiring room, where we can prepare for our evening of fun and frolic.”

The ladies followed Prissy into the retiring room. “As you can see,” said Prissy, “I have many amenities for you here to prepare for your evening of lust and fun. These adorable maids will help us undress and prepare for our husbands.”

Among gossip and giggles, the ladies were stripped of their garments, and the maids hung their clothes and corsets in a wardrobe.

Prissy rested her gaze on her friend Fannie's ample bosom. “Oh, Fannie, your diddeys are always so gorgeous. May I powder them for you?”

“Of course, Prissy. Powder away, my dear. I want them nice and luscious looking. I'm hoping they'll get lots of attention this evening.”

“I'm certain they will. Not that your lovelies need any powder, Fannie, but I do adore touching them.”

Prissy grabbed a powder puff, dipped it in some fine talcum, and fluffed it over Fannie's ample breasts. “I do think I shall paint your nipples as well. They're a delicious pink already, but with a little rouge, they will be absolutely delectable.”

“Oh, yes, please.”

Prissy took her brush and turned to Fannie's nipples. She gave each one a quick pinch. “Such gorgeous nipples, Fannie. I think, before I paint them for you, I shall suck on them a bit.”

“Do be my guest, dear Prissy.”

Prissy bent her head and took one pink bud between her lips. The texture was delicate and soft, but they became hard under her tongue. “Ah”—she sighed against Fannie's breast—“such lovely titties.” She sucked one into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and then giving it the slightest nibble.

“Ooh!” Fannie nearly jumped out of her drawers. “That does feel good, dear Prissy. Do bite the other one.”

“As you wish, my dear.” Prissy moved to the other hard nipple and took it between her lips, biting it gently.

The stunning Angelica, Lady McHunt, came forward, her ample breasts jiggling. “How gorgeous you are, Fannie,” she said. “Might I suck on the other nipple, whilst Prissy feasts on this one?”

“Why, of course, my dear Angelica,” Fannie said. “The more the merrier.”

Prissy and Angelica sucked on Fannie's nipples for several more moments, slurping and biting. Prissy's own pussy grew wet. If only one of these ravishing ladies would suck her cunny.

When she could take it no longer, Prissy let Fannie's nipple drop from her lips. It was magnificent now, a pleasing burnished red. “My dear Fannie,” she said, “I don't believe you need the rouge now.”

Angelica dropped the other nipple from her mouth as well, nodding. “No, dear, your nipples are a glorious scarlet.”

Fannie turned around and dropped her drawers to the ground. “Then perhaps one of you good ladies would dust my bum for me. I want it to be exquisite for the gentleman to spank this evening.”

Angelica grabbed the powder puff from the jar of powder. “Please do allow me, Fannie.”

Prissy smiled and left her two friends to the fun. She turned to her other two lady guests—Poppea, the Baroness Beaverhausen, and Sarah Nora, the mistress of the earl of Hardwood. They were engaged in a luscious openmouthed kiss, and the sight of their tongues twirling over each other made Prissy's quim quiver.

Clearly, these ladies were good with their tongues. Why not ask for a favor? After all, she was the hostess of this enchanting soirée.

“I do so hate to interrupt you, ladies, but I was wondering if one of you would do me the honor of sucking my cunt?”

The lovely Sarah Nora, her almond-shaped brown eyes lashed in ebony and her long brown hair hanging loosely around her milky shoulders, broke the kiss and turned to Prissy. “Why, my lady, I would love to taste your sweet cunny.”

Sarah Nora was a beauty. Her lips were colored with red and so full that Prissy could not wait to feel them against her wet folds. But she didn't want to leave the adorable blond Poppea out of the fun. “If you ladies would both remove your drawers, I think we could arrange ourselves in a triangle and each of us could have her pussy licked.”

“But aren't the gentlemen waiting for us in the ballroom?” Poppea asked.

Sarah Nora scoffed. “Oh, let them wait. Let us have some fun without them. They will all want their cocks sucked, and while I enjoy a good cock sucking, I've found that no one eats pussy like another woman.” She winked.

“When you put it that way…” Poppea winked back. “Sarah Nora, you take Prissy's pretty little quim, I shall take yours, and Prissy, that leaves you me.”

Prissy smiled. She had tasted Poppea's sweet quim on several occasions. It was a tasty delight, and she was happy for the opportunity to eat her this evening. The ladies arranged themselves on the soft Oriental rug, each lying on her side.

Sarah Nora spread Prissy's legs. “What a pulchritudinous little pussy you have, Prissy.”

“Yours is lovely as well, Sarah Nora,” Poppea said.

Prissy didn't answer. She was too busy diving into Poppea's sweet cream. Poppea had a splendid pussy with swollen red lips and a flavor of pears and vodka. Prissy lapped at her, tonguing her clitoris, eating at her soft folds, probing her tongue inside her entrance.

Poppea groaned and moaned, her words muffled by her face in Sarah Nora's pussy. Sarah Nora, meanwhile, was sucking on Prissy's hardened nub.

Prissy's skin tightened, and little sparks skated across her. Oh, this woman could suck pussy. Prissy began moving her hips, undulating them, wanting so much for a hard cock to slide between them. As if reading her mind, Sarah Nora inserted first one and then two fingers into her. Prissy groaned against Poppea's cunt, eating more voraciously as Sarah Nora finger-fucked her.

“Yes, Prissy, such a dazzling pussy, so hungry for me.” Sarah Nora inserted one more finger. “Can you take my fist, my darling?”

Prissy moaned into Poppea's pussy.
Yes
, she screamed in her mind, but her hips answered for her, bearing down and taking what Sarah Nora was giving her.

Though Sarah Nora was petite, the sensation was much like a cock in her pussy. Suddenly, soft lips claimed her clitoris, and Prissy shattered around Sarah Nora's fist.

Her climax fueling her, she reached into Poppea's pussy and fingered her, bringing about the lady's climax. And then Sarah Nora herself, her voice cutting through their moans and groans.

“Yes, Poppea darling. I'm coming, I'm coming.”

The three women, sated, sat up slowly, each smiling. Prissy looked toward the other end of the room and found Fannie and Angelica eating each other's pussies, Angelica sitting on Fannie's face. Soon they, too, climaxed together, gyrating and wailing.

Prissy stood. “Well, I can see now that all of our cunnies are red and swollen. We've all had our first climax of the evening, ladies. I'm so thrilled that we could share them together.”

“I suppose we cannot hog all the fun,” Angelica said. “We should join the gentlemen in the ballroom now. I, for one, could use a good cock.”

“And I,” Fannie said, “would love to have my arse spanked until it's red as a beet.”

Prissy warmed all over. She looked down. Her own red lips were visible beneath her black bush. Oh, the gentlemen would be thrilled. They all loved a swollen cunt.

The ladies were all naked now, and Prissy grabbed several feather boas that were hanging in the wardrobe. She gave one to each of the ladies, saving the red one for herself. “If you will follow me, ladies, we shall join the gentleman.” Prissy led the ladies back to the ballroom.

Her husband, Percy, was already spanking the Baron Beaverhausen's arse. Beaverhausen was leaned over a table with his fists bound to posts. The Earl of Gutenberg was sucking on the Earl of Hardwood's cock. The man befit his name. Viscount McHunt, known as the voyeur in their circles, was watching and licking his lips lasciviously.

Prissy cleared her throat gently. “Well, I can see you have already started without us.”

Percy looked up from the leather paddle he was using on the Baron Beaverhausen. “From the looks of your cunnies, I'd say you've started without us as well.”

The ladies all giggled.

“Really, Percy, did you think we wouldn't? You know how much I love a woman to suck on my pussy.”

Prissy climbed on the table where Baron Beaverhausen was bound. “In fact, I don't think I've had my fill of pussy licking yet. Would you mind, Beaverhausen, sucking on my cunny while my husband whips you?”

“Not at all, my lady. Bring your sweet quim to me.”

Prissy scooted forward and braced herself with her arms on the table. She spread her legs. The Baron Beaverhausen began lapping at her cunny. Each time Percy landed another smack on his arse, Beaverhausen ate her pussy more greedily. Prissy climaxed again, and then again.

“I say, your arse is nice and rattled, chap. Why not give my wife's cunt a rest? I think she needs her arse spanked now.”

Prissy tingled all over. She did love a good spanking. And though she'd been spanked by many, her own husband was the best and knew exactly how she liked it.

“Oh, Percy, I would truly love that.”

“Then come on down, my dear, and grab the posts. Beaverhausen, do go ahead and bind her. Let's get my wife's arse nice and red.”

Before she grabbed the post, Prissy looked around. She was the hostess, after all, and she needed to make sure her guests were enjoying themselves. All were occupied. Viscount McHunt was now licking Fannie's pussy, and Angelica and Sarah Nora were both sucking on Gutenberg's cock. Poppea was pleasuring herself with a glass phallus from one of the shelves, while Hardwood hovered above her, fucking her mouth. Prissy smiled. Her guests were having fun.

She grasped the posts, and Beaverhausen secured her wrists with a silk binding.

Percy began by stroking a feather over her arse. She loved this part—the softness, the sweetness, yet she never knew when the first smack would—

“Oh!” A leather strap came down on her arse.

“You like that, don't you, my sweet Prissy?”

Priscilla bit her lip. “Oh, Percy, you know I do.” The lovely sting melted over her arse, permeating through to her innermost center, slowly turning into pleasure. Sparkling tingles surged through her. Then the feather again, the softness such a grand contrast to the sting of the slap. And just when she was getting used to the contrast—

Smack! Another came down on her arse.

“Such a stunning arse you have, my dear,” Percy said. “These ladies here are all lovely, but not one arse can hold a candle to yours.”

“Oh, you do say the sweetest things, my love,” Prissy said, biting her lip again.

Four more swats, and Prissy was near orgasm. “Percy, my love, you must fuck me now. I need a hard cock in my quim.”

“Would you like to do the honors, Beaverhausen?” Percy said.

“I would be obliged,” Beaverhausen said.

Seconds later, the head of a cock nudged Prissy's lips. Beaverhausen was large, the largest man here tonight, and oh, such a sweet burn would he give her.

“Yes, Beaverhausen,” she said. “Fuck me good. I need a good fucking. Have at me, Beaverhausen. Hammer me.”

He thrust his cock into her wet cunt. “Dear Lady Peacock,” he said, “you do have the tightest little quim. It's a pleasure to fuck you.”

“I'm going to spank your bottom while you fuck my wife, Beaverhausen,” Peacock said.

Smack! As Percy's strap came down upon Beaverhausen's arse, he plunged harder into Prissy's cunt.

“Nice, Peacock,” Beaverhausen said, his breath hot against Prissy's neck. “Each time you smack my arse, I can thrust even farther into your wife's tight pussy.”

Beaverhausen continued to fuck her into oblivion. Prissy longed to slide her fingers downward and diddle her clitoris, but she was still bound. But the stretch, the exquisite stretch of Beaverhausen pounding her, the vibrations tingled her nub—soon she was on the verge of climax.

“Wait, wait! I'm going to come!”

“As am I, my lady. One more good swat, Peacock, and I'm going to shoot my load.”

Smack!

The sting bubbled through Prissy as if it had come down on her own arse. Her orgasm started in her clitoris, slid through her pussy lips, and up into her cunt through her whole body, emanating into her arms and legs, tingling. One last thrust, and Beaverhausen pulled out, spurting his cream onto Prissy's back. Its warmth drizzled over her.

“Good God, Peacock, your wife's pussy is the tightest in here.”

“Yes, 'tis a lucky man am I,” Percy agreed.

Beaverhausen strode to a shelf, brought back a moist rag, and cleaned Prissy's back. “Thank you for a most wonderful fuck, Lady Peacock.”