“Take off your clothes too. Do I have to do everything?”
He stripped, his excitement rising as she glared at him, his heart thudding in time to the pulse in his cock. He hadn’t realized she had such a temper and was surprised at his eagerness to see where her anger took them.
“Now what are you going to do?”
Marguerite scanned the small bedroom, returning her gaze to Anthony. “This friend of yours, does he like to be tied up too?”
“Yes, he does, but . . .”
She jumped off the bed, “Then he must have something here to secure you with, yes?”
“You’re going to tie me up?”
“Yes, why shouldn’t I? I’m fed up with being treated like a porcelain figurine, protected and alone inside the china cabinet.” She glared at him, dared him to challenge her, to tell her not to be silly, to laugh. He did none of those things and the understanding in his gaze almost made her forget her anger.
He shrugged. “I’m tired of people underestimating me too. I’m not going to stop you.”
She headed for the chest of drawers and hesitated at the thought of invading another person’s privacy.
“May I help you, ma’am?”
Marguerite gasped and spun around to stare at the man who leaned against the bedroom door. He was dressed in naval uniform, his hat in his hand, his long blond hair disheveled from the wind. He was also distinctly familiar.
“Captain David Gray, at your service, ma’am. We met at Madame Helene’s.” He nodded at Anthony. “I can only apologize for the interruption. I’ll get what I need and I’ll be off.”
Anthony looked appalled as he scrambled to the side of the bed. “God, David, I’m so sorry. We’ll leave immediately.”
Marguerite’s fingers curled into her palm until they bit into her flesh. He was probably mortified at being caught naked in his lover’s bed with a woman.
But Captain Gray didn’t look angry. If she remembered correctly, he was a friend of her mother’s and Lisette’s and therefore unlikely to betray them. She curtsied, difficult to do well when wearing only one’s shift.
“Perhaps I should go and leave Captain Gray to satisfy your needs.”
“Marguerite . . .”
Captain Gray smiled. “Please, both of you, stay here. I am the one who is de trop.”
“And what if I asked you to stay?” Marguerite couldn’t quite believe the bold words emerging from her own mouth.
Captain Gray hesitated. “Ma’am?”
“I want to tie Anthony up. Can you show me how to do it?”
The captain exchanged another longer glance at Anthony. “Sokorvsky?”
“I’m quite happy to be tied up, David. If Marguerite wants your help, I’m not going to stop her.”
“Then I’d be delighted.”
David put down his tricorn hat, took off his gloves and shut the bedroom door firmly behind him. Marguerite tried to breathe normally. He seemed to accept her seminakedness as nothing out of the ordinary and showed no tendency to salivate over her. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t been naked in front of two men before.
“You need something strong but supple enough to tie well, if that makes sense.” He stepped past her and opened the second drawer of the red lacquered tallboy. “I find long silk scarves work very well. Which color would you like?”
Marguerite peered into the drawer and saw a rainbow of colors. “Black, I think, do you have that?”
“Indeed I do.” He extracted four scarves and handed them to her. “I suggest you tie a scarf around each wrist and ankle first and then attach him to the bed.”
Marguerite almost wanted to laugh at his quiet, businesslike tone, but she didn’t want to lose the anger inside her either. She turned toward Anthony on the bed, noted his barely concealed excitement, the heaviness of his straining cock quivering against his belly.
David bowed to Anthony, “I do apologize for coming back. I assumed my work would keep me out until the end of the week, but the ship I expected didn’t arrive.”
Anthony sighed. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. This is your home.” He glanced at Marguerite. “This wasn’t planned.”
“These things rarely are.” David’s smile seemed genuine, his interest in the situation obvious even to Marguerite. “Shall we proceed?”
Marguerite climbed onto the bed and awaited further instructions.
“Loop the scarf around his wrist, tie a loose knot and then tie both ends to the bed frame.”
“How tight should it be?”
David came up behind her and tugged at the scarf. “It depends on how much you want to mark him.”
Anthony cleared his throat. “Tie it as tight as you want, Marguerite; I’ll probably enjoy it.”
She stared hard at the black silk scarf. Could she do this? Did she really want to? Perhaps her mother was right and she was too afraid. She tied the knot, heard Anthony’s stifled gasp as she tightened it. Despite the fact that she was anxious, she was the one with the power this time, not a naïve young wife who didn’t understand what was expected of her.
“Would you like me to help you?”
She blinked up at David who had come around to inspect her work, his expression carefully blank.
“No, I’d prefer to do it myself.”
He nodded as if he perfectly understood. “Do you wish me to leave then?”
She studied him for a long moment, recognized the rising arousal in his sea blue eyes, the quickness of his breathing, the already prominent bulge in his breeches.
“I’d like you to stay. Perhaps you can check my work when I’ve finished.”
“I’d be delighted; as Anthony already knows, I like to watch.”
She continued tying Anthony up, avoided touching his erect cock as she moved around the bed. Soon he lay spread eagled on the covers, each limb attached to a bed post by a scarf. Marguerite knelt between his muscled thighs and simply looked at him, noting the slight red marks on his wrists and ankles, the tautness of the black silk, the play of his muscles under his skin.
“Do you like me like this, Marguerite?”
She looked up at Anthony’s quiet question.
“Yes.”
She felt a slight movement behind her and turned her head to stare at David. She’d almost forgotten he was there. His gaze was fixed on Anthony too, but she saw no sign of passion, just the experienced eye of a detached observer.
“Captain Gray?”
“Yes, my lady?”
“If you were alone with Anthony, what would you do next?”
He shrugged. “It’s up to him. I don’t believe in forcing a man to accept whatever I feel like giving him, although there are some men who do.”
“And some men who like being forced, no doubt,” Anthony murmured. “What would you like to do to me, Marguerite, now that you have me at your mercy?”
She shivered. This was bizarre; this whole situation was unusual. “Not hurt you, not force you.”
“You could oil his skin, he’d probably like that.”
Marguerite eyed Anthony’s long powerful body, now displayed for her enjoyment, constrained by her hands. How would his skin feel straining and slick as she massaged oil into his quivering flesh?
“Do you oil him, Captain Gray?”
“Yes, I do, and please call me David. I also use oil for other reasons.”
“When you fuck him, you mean?”
Surprise flickered in David’s eyes followed by wry amusement and respect. “Yes, my lady, for when I fuck him.”
Anthony groaned. “Marguerite, for a well-brought-up young lady, your language is appalling.”
“I told you, I’m tired of being treated like an innocent. I’m a widow, not a shy debutante.”
David handed her a vial of oil, and she turned back to Anthony. He flinched as she coated her fingers with oil and started to massage it into his chest.