Part 8 (1/2)
”Mind your manners, milord.” She tugged his hair in annoyance, and he yelped.
”I thought you were going to be nice!' he winced, his aqua eyes flas.h.i.+ng in annoyance. He bit his lip as she tugged again.
”We'll get to that presently. Where are the goods?” She pushed him up against the coach, which rocked from the impact. She pressed her cool length against his, breast to breast, broad chest to incredible bosom.
”Be reasonable. Just who is getting robbed here, anyway?” He was once again surprised by her height. She was staring at him eye to eye. Her legs were so, well, long in her boots up to the thigh and tight man's breeches. Her doeskin-clad hips writhed against the silk of his breeches, and he felt himself leap to sudden and profound attention. He choked as his thoughts traveled straight down to the warm vee in her parted thighs that was cradling the heat of his erection.
”The jewels are in a compartment under the driver's seat,” he said breathlessly.
”That's my good boy,” she purred, then brushed his lips with hers.
He leaned to kiss her more fully, and was surprised when she met him halfway. Her red lips parted, and her tongue swept in to parry with his. She tasted so fresh, so sweet, like a cool gla.s.s of spring water. He moaned and shook as l.u.s.t took over his body.
”Mmm.” She sighed, breaking their kiss.
”Can we untie my hands now, I'd like to...” he stopped as he gazed down at the expanse of exposed bosom so tantalizingly close. He desperately wanted to hold those abundant creamy globes in his hands, then peel them from her half-undone waistcoat and draw her nipples into his mouth.
”I have a better idea,” Molly whispered.
”What?” He felt her palms against the silk of his breeches, then busy fingers on his trouser b.u.t.tons. His mind churned to a sudden halt, and leapt in panic. ”Right here? In front of your, um, a.s.sistant and my coachman?” It was getting very difficult to think. All he could concentrate on was the feel of her gloved fingers inside his breeches, then along the contours of his rigid flesh.
”And your two footmen as well,” she chuckled. ”Mustn't forget them. Don't worry, I've got a floor-length greatcoat on, they won't see a d.a.m.ned thing.”
He watched in fascination as she caught the fingertip of one glove in her white teeth and pulled, peeling the leather from her hand. They both sighed as she slid her bare hand into his pants and along his heavy erection. She snuggled up tight against him. He tried to make room for her by getting his hands over her head, but she wouldn't let him drop his hands around her. He ended up holding them high. They struggled for position a bit more, but he so very wanted to touch her, and his hands and elbows kept getting in the way. If he hadn't been so f.u.c.king hard, he would have laughed at the situation.
She grunted in frustration. ”It seems that you're right, doing you up against the coach could get problematical, seeing as your hands are tied,” she conceded.
”You could untie me,” he whispered invitingly as he nuzzled her perfumed neck under that incredible mane of red waves. He rocked his hips and his c.o.c.k against her palm.
”That would take the fun out of it,” she giggled and pulled away.
She gripped the lapels of his frock coat and he gasped. ”What?” He was tugged forward, then pushed back.
”Into the coach, my fair lord, I'm gonna f.u.c.k you on your seat-cus.h.i.+ons,” she growled.
He sputtered in alarm as he was shoved onto the leather bench of his own coach. Aggressively, she tugged his cravat from his neck. Her lips found the column of his throat, and s.h.i.+vers raced up his spine as her tongue made magic on his skin. Diligent fingers undid his breeches the rest of the way, releasing his aching flesh from its painful captivity. It rose firm and unrepentant against his flat belly.
”Now that is a lovely sight,” Molly purred, her eyes locked to his erection. She licked her lips and pulled away, dropping her greatcoat on the opposite bench. She opened her waistcoat the rest of the way and parted her s.h.i.+rt.
His mouth dried in appreciation. ”That is a magnificent pair,” he choked. The uncertain light of the candle lamps in the coach gilded her skin warmly. Her nipples were a soft rose and p.r.o.nounced, rising from generous areolas.
”Why, thank you,” Molly said softly, then skinned out of her leather breeches.
His eyes slid down the muscular length of her long legs, then back up to the soft red nest of curls at the joining of her thighs. He licked his lips in antic.i.p.ation. She grinned cheekily, then straddled his thighs with her knees up on the seat. She sat up and brought her delicious b.r.e.a.s.t.s to his lips.
He dove, rubbing his cheeks and lips against the silken softness of her voluptuous b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He delighted in her resulting moans. He bared his tongue, tasting, sucking, licking, nipping and partaking of her flesh as though she were a dessert he would never be permitted again. She whimpered and pulled suddenly away, her engorged nipple slipping from his lips with an audible wet smack.
”What? Oh!” He sputtered as her mouth descended onto his. She slanted her lips over his for a better fit, then swept in with her pointed tongue, showing no mercy. She wriggled over him as she positioned herself. He worked his hands, but the knots were too tight around his wrists.
He jerked as he felt a cool hand between their bodies, then on his hot erection. She captured his length and tugged it, stroking its firmness. He felt the swollen head of his c.o.c.k being rubbed against wet heat. His b.u.t.tocks clenched as his body felt the entrance to moist haven. She dropped and engulfed him in her snug wet sheath. Their moans filled the coach as she sank to his b.a.l.l.s.
”Umm, that is a very nice fit, milord,” she sighed them pressed forward, her nipples raking across the silk of his s.h.i.+rt.
”Since we are now on more-” He swallowed. ”-more intimate terms, you can call me Beau.” He grunted, then moaned as she rocked forward onto his c.o.c.k. She was so wet that he could feel the trickle of liquid down his b.a.l.l.s.
”Mmm, I like Beau. Thank you, Beau.” She rocked back, then forward to please herself and him in the process. ”You'll forgive me if I hurry,” she panted.
”I'll forgive you anything,” he groaned as he strained up into her moist depths. ”Just tell me your name.”
”Call me Molly,” she said, hissing as her body clenched around him with rising pleasure. She rocked atop him, gripping his shoulders, her thighs holding him captive. She thrust hard down on him, f.u.c.king herself on his rampant c.o.c.k.
”G.o.d, Molly,” he grunted as his crisis became painful, ”f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k,” he chanted, trying to hold on and wait for her. She was very close, he could feel by the way her body was trembling around his c.o.c.k. She stilled. She threw her head back and began pumping up and down on him, her c.u.n.t squeezing him so tightly he was convinced she was going to milk him dry.
”Beau!” she moaned, her mouth open as she violently came.
He shouted as ecstasy suddenly ripped through him.
Molly abruptly dismounted, and ropes of his c.u.m spurted forth to spatter across her.
Beau fell back against the padded seats of the coach in exhaustion, delighted with his release and the luscious view of Molly's bountiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s decorated with his c.u.m. Pearls of creamy liquid hung on the tips of her nipples and across her throat.
”Remind me to give you pearls in honor of this occasion,” he said softly. She actually blushed, then picked up his cravat and wiped at his cream, smearing it across her flesh.
Molly smiled. ”I'm afraid you'll have to catch me first.”
”Oh, I will. Beau sighed and smiled. ”Give me time.” He leaned forward on the seat. ”You are just too magnificent to forget.” His smile broadened. ”Sooner or later I will find you, and then it will be my turn to tie you up.”
Molly froze momentarily at the sight of his confident smile and hurried into her doeskin breeches.
A shout came from without. Molly grabbed her coat, then dove out of the coach, her s.h.i.+rt open and b.r.e.a.s.t.s still bare. They gleamed wetly in the starlight. She disappeared into the shadowed, rustling woods surrounding the road. Fading hoof-beats filled the night.
Beau bent down and angling carefully, pulled a throwing dagger from his boot. In seconds he was free. Quickly and efficiently, he put himself away and tidied as much as he could with his handkerchief. His cravat, sticky with his own spending, was quite beyond help. He sat back to wait.
Long minutes later, a full troop of uniformed and hors.e.m.e.n wearing his personal household livery appeared. They came galloping down the road to intercept the waiting coach. The troop's Captain reined in his gray gelding, then bent over his saddle to peek into the coach window from the back of his sweating horse.
”Well, Lord Rushford, what do you think of our Highwayman problem?” asked the Captain.
”I have met the enemy, and I am determined to catch her.” Beau's aqua eyes gleamed with the challenge as he stepped out of his coach. ”I can also see why she's been given the name Molly Coddle.” He straightened the lace at his cuffs. ”For a hardened thief, her form of persuasion is rather gentle,” he said with sarcasm. ”And vastly unique to say the least.”
The Captain frowned. ”Her persuasion is gentle?”
The mounted troops behind the Captain looked at each other in confusion.
”This is the first thief I've ever run across that doesn't use knives to pry out information.” Beau tugged at his cuffs and blushed.