Sophie's Voice (Sex and the Season Book 4) (25 page)

The other man forced Zach into the bedroom.

And he gasped, terror flooding through him.

There lay Sophie, naked, each limb tied to a bedpost. A man dressed in black hovered over her at the foot of the bed. He was tall with a shock of grey-white hair.

Sophie turned her head at the commotion.

The man holding Zach placed his hand over Zach's mouth before he could yell to Sophie.

The grey-haired man turned.

Graves.

“Newland. How in the hell did you find me?”

The man called Harry unclamped his hand from Zach's mouth, still holding him while Zach struggled.

“Sophie, love, are you all right?”

“Don't speak to him!” Graves warned.

Poor Sophie. His love. Bound naked. Zach would see that damned butler dead for this.

“What in the hell are you doing, Graves? You've been a loyal servant to Brighton for how many years now? And you abduct his stepdaughter? What the hell were you thinking? You need to let her go. Now!”

“I don't need to do anything you say, Newland.”

“Did you think really think we wouldn't find you? You sick bastard. And then implicating that innocent man, Bertram. He's been rotting in a cell for six weeks, constantly proclaiming his innocence.”

“He's a stupid kid. A pawn in my game.”

“Your game is over. We have people coming right behind us.”

Graves laughed. “No, you don't, or they would be here by now.”

Zach swallowed. Caught in a lie. “What do you want with Sophie, Graves?”

“Plain and simple. I want
her
. She is the woman of my dreams. I have been worshiping her since I first laid eyes on her, waiting for the right time to claim her.”

Feral anger rose within Zach. No one would take his woman. “She will never be yours. She's mine.”

“She's not yours, Newland. But you took her anyway, didn't you? Forced yourself upon her virgin flesh!” Graves's eyes glowed with evil. “Since you're here, I'll prove to you who she belongs to. Harry, hold him. He will
watch
.”

Sophie screamed. “Help me, Zach! Please!”

“You will not make another sound, my dear,” he said to Sophie, “or I shall have to punish you.”

Zach fought against Harry's strong hold. “If you so much as touch one hair on her head—”

“You'll do what?” Graves's eyes glittered with malice. “You're in no situation to make any threats, Newland. The woman is mine. And you shall be witness to my claiming.”

“No!”

Harry clamped a hand over Zach's mouth again.

“Such a big sensation. Zachary Newland, the toast of the theatre. Seducer of women everywhere. You take whatever you want. You took my woman, and you soiled her. She is
not
yours. She was
never
yours. How does it feel to you, Newland, to stand there and watch me have her?”

Zach strained, trying to yell, but to no avail with Harry's hammy hand locked over his mouth. He had to get to Sophie.
Had to
.

She lay on the bed, her eyes pleading with him. “It's all right, Zach. I'll be all right,” she said.

Graves marched toward her head and smacked her hard across the cheek. “I told you not to speak.”

Graves might as well have hit Zach. He felt every bit of the sting. That bastard!

Sophie
, he said in his mind,
I love you. I love you so much. I am here. Don't give up. Fight this. We will somehow get out of here.

Yet he couldn't believe the words. To watch another man have his woman was killing him. Rage boiled beneath his skin.

Graves lowered his trousers, his cock springing free like a menace.

“You will be mine now, Sophie, while Newland watches. He will know without a doubt to whom you belong.”

Sophie opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Graves slapped her again.

He claims to love her and treats her thus?
Zach strained against the arms holding him, the hand against his mouth.

Graves removed his boots, stockings, and trousers. Naked from the waist down, he climbed upon the bed and hovered over Sophie.

“And now, dear Sophie, you will be mine.”

Sophie let out a blood-curdling scream.

And Zach sprang into action. He summoned every bit of strength in his body, mind, and soul and elbowed Harry in the ribs, releasing himself. Quick as a jackrabbit, he grabbed the pistol out of Harry's waistband, ran to Graves, and pistol-whipped him on the head. The butler fell limp on top of Sophie.

Thinking fast, Zach turned to Harry and held him at gunpoint. “You make one move, and I will shoot your fucking head off.”

Harry nodded.

“Help me get him off her,” Zach said.

Harry and Zach rolled a delirious Graves off of Sophie.

“I'm sorry, Liam,” Graves whispered before his eyes shut and he lost consciousness.

Zach then pistol-whipped Harry, and the big man fell to the floor.

Sophie. His Sophie. His heart nearly broke seeing her bound and mistreated. “My God, darling, are you all right?”

Tears streamed down Sophie's cheeks. “Oh, Zach, I was so afraid…”

“No need to be afraid, my love. I will always come for you. I will never let any harm come to you.”

He untied the ropes, and once Sophie was unbound, he wrapped her in the old quilt that covered the rickety bed. He kissed her forehead.

“We have much to talk about, Sophie, but first let's take care of this filth so they can never harm you again.”

Sophie nodded, tears still streaming down her face. “Bind him. He enjoyed having me bound so much. Perhaps he should see what it's like.”

Zach nodded and bound an unconscious Graves's hands and feet, ironically with the rope he had used on Sophie. He tied Harry as well.

“We need to see about your stepfather. One of the thugs hit him in the head with a candlestick.”

Sophie gasped. “Will he be all right?”

Zach nodded. “I think so. He seemed to be breathing fine, and there was no blood.”

“But the others…”

Zach grabbed the gun. “Wait here…”

“Zach, no!”

Zach put his finger to his lips. “I have this pistol. I will be all right.” Zach opened the door to the bedroom and walked out quietly. The earl still lay on the floor, breathing normally. Zach checked the room. No sign of Jake. The coward had run.

He knelt down to Brighton. “My Lord? Are you all right? Can you hear me?”

His eyes fluttered open. “Newland?”

“Yes. I'm here. You were hit on the head. But I found Sophie. You were right. It was Graves. Just lie here. We're going to get some help.”

He went back to Sophie, still cuddling in the comforter. He sat on the bed and took her in his arms.

“I'm so sorry, my love. I should've been there to protect you.” Tears fell down his cheeks.

“But you did. You came, and you protected me.”

“No harm will ever come to you again as long as I live, my love. I will protect you with my life if need be. I can't lose you. You're a part me now.”

Sophie's lips trembled. She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her.

“Please don't leave me.”

She looked up at him, cupping his cheek, her striking hazel eyes wet and bloodshot. “Never.” A small smile curved her parched lips. “How could I? You've uncovered places in my soul where I was afraid to venture. I was alive before I met you, but I wasn't
living
.”

Zach warmed against her, holding her tightly. “I love you, Sophie. What we have isn't always pretty, but it's real and solid, and I'd die without it. Please say you'll still be my wife.”

Sophie, tears still streaming down her cheeks, nodded. “I love you too, Zach Newland. I would be pleased and honored to be your wife.”

B
ertram had been released
, and he returned to the Brighton estate as the new butler. The earl felt so horrible about what happened that he offered Bertram hefty compensation and a chamber on the second level, away from the servants' quarters. Bertram seemed happy at his new post.

Graves, along with his brother Harry, had been transferred to Newgate in London. He had begged everyone's forgiveness before he left, and he hanged himself several days later.

Sophie and Zach, after several days off to recover, finished their performances. Healing from their ordeal would take time, but together, Sophie knew they would thrive. After closing night, they were married via special license in a small ceremony at the estate. After a five-course midnight repast, they headed to Zach's townhome—
their
townhome.

Sophie sat in her new bedchamber, dressed in a pink negligee, waiting for her husband to come to her on their wedding night.

The door opened slowly, and Zach stood, clad in a forest-green silk robe.

“My love, you are beautiful,” he said.

Sophie gazed at him in appreciation. Her new husband was as magnificent as anything on earth. “As are you, my husband.”

“We've been through a lot to be together,” Zach said, “but I would go through it all again a hundred times to be with you. To have you as my leading lady for life.”

“As would I.” No truer words had ever left Sophie's lips.

Zach was her destiny and she his. They understood each other. They needed each other.

Zach dropped his robe, exposing his naked body. She gulped. He was as handsome as ever, his sinewy muscles apparent in his calves, thighs, abdomen, chest, and arms. Her body warmed all over.

He came closer. His auburn night beard had begun to appear on his jawline. She touched his face, relishing the stubble.

“Ah,” he said. “Your touch… Nothing's ever felt so perfect.”

Sophie let out a giggle. “Nothing?” She gave him a kiss on one of his copper coin nipples.

Then she stood and dropped her negligee.

“I fear I've been a naughty girl. I think I might need a good spanking.”

P
oppea's tongue
made Prissy's pussy sizzle.

“Oh, Poppea, no one sucks cunny quite like you.” Prissy writhed under Poppea's questing mouth. “Yes, yes, just like that. You're going to make me—”

Prissy burst into an explosive climax, her whole body throbbing in time with the convulsions in her quim.

Poppea inserted two fingers into her channel, prolonging the pleasure as Prissy rode out her orgasm. When she finally came down, she turned to her companion.

“That was lovely, Poppea. Thank you. Might I return the favor?”

Poppea's chin was gloriously shiny with Prissy's nectar. “Oh, I would adore that, Prissy, but what I have a taste for right now is a good flogging.”

“You know I would love to oblige,” Prissy said, “but I never dole out punishment. I only submit to it. In fact, now you mention it, I could use another spanking as well. Let us find two gentlemen to see to our needs.”

The ladies approached the Earl of Peacock, who was just finishing administering a spanking to Sarah Nora.

“I say, Peacock,” Prissy said, “Poppea and I fancy a spanking. I fear we've been quite naughty. Could you arrange it?”

“Of course, my dear. As I've spanked you many times and Poppea only few, might I suggest that I spank her arse this evening? I'm sure Hardwood would be happy to give you a good show.”

“Oh, yes,” Sarah Nora agreed, nodding. “Hardwood is famous for his floggings. My bum has been sore since we've been together.” She gazed around the room. “There he is. It looks like he's just spent his load in Fannie's throat. I shall send him over.” Sarah Nora strode away, her well-shaped derriere wiggling.

Prissy heated with anticipation. Hardwood and Sarah Nora had never been to one of their house parties, so she had never been spanked by him. Excitement surged through her, culminating in her sweet spot. Would Hardwood be as good as Peacock?

Hardwood ambled over, his flaccid cock dangling between his well-formed thighs. “Lady Peacock,” he said, “Sarah Nora says you're in need of a spanking.”

Prissy nodded. “Oh, yes, my lord. I do crave one. Poppea here just gave me an amazing gamahuching. I fear we were very naughty together and must be punished. Peacock is going to take Poppea. So that leaves you for me.”

Hardwood's laid his palm over Prissy's bottom. “Your arse is quite splendid, my lady, and already a radiant shade of rose. Let's see if we can redden it a bit, shall we?”

Prissy trembled all over. Icy shivers raced across her skin. She was ready for his punishing hand.

“I shall take you across my knee, like the naughty little girl you are,” Hardwood said, his eyes twinkling. He walked a few steps to the divan, sat down, and patted his lap. “Come now, Lady Peacock. It's time for your punishment.”

Prissy walked slowly toward him. When she got close enough, Hardwood grabbed her arm and forcefully laid her across his lap.

“I'm afraid you did not get here fast enough, my lady. That has earned you an extra form of punishment.” He pinched one cheek of her arse between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh!” Prissy cried out. The pain threaded through her arse cheek, down her thigh and leg, where it began its transformation into pleasure. A pinch. How lovely.

“Did you like that, my lady?”

“Yes, my lord. Please. Again.”

Hardwood pinched the other cheek, sending the same spirals of pleasure up and down her leg.

“I'm afraid you might like that too much, Lady Peacock.”
Smack!
His palm came down on her bum.

“Oh, my lord, yes! Again!”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“There's that bright red I want to see.” Hardwood rubbed the cheeks of her buttocks. “So stunning.”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Prissy clawed her fingers into the brocade of the divan, the pain permeating through her whole body, exposing her, freeing her, until it miraculously shifted into pleasure, leading her toward another explosive climax.

She moaned and groaned into the divan, wailing, begging for more.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

With the last slap, Hardwood shoved two fingers into her wet cunt, and she broke into an incandescent orgasm. For a moment, she seemed to rise above the commotion, looking down at her guests frolicking. Peacock was thrashing Poppea. Fannie and Sarah Nora were eating each other's cunnies, Angelica was sucking the cocks of both Beaverhausen and Gutenberg, and of course, McHunt, the voyeur, was watching and toying with his own giant cock.

When Prissy finally came back down to earth, Hardwood gently helped her off his lap.

“Can I get you some ointment for your arse, my lady?” he asked.

Prissy smiled at the handsome gentleman. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

She sat, waiting for Hardwood to return with the ointment, and gazed around the room. Beaverhausen, having just erupted all over Angelica's breasts, walked to Peacock, who had finished spanking Poppea.

“Did Peacock give you a good flogging, my dear?” Beaverhausen asked.

Poppea's pretty cheeks flushed. “Oh, yes. I enjoyed it immensely.”

Beaverhausen smiled and gave Peacock a friendly pat on the back. “I say, old chap, this is a demmed fine party. Demmed fine indeed.”