A Lady in Distress - Pansy/Montague - AU - NC-17
Title: A lady in distress
Author: millieweasley and faraday
Characters: Pansy/Montague
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Wall-sex, Dirty talk
Kinks chosen: AU (no magic, set in the 19th century, no spoilers what so ever)
Word Count: 5269
Summary: Pansy is bored - but perhaps Montague can
Author's notes: Thanks to Fara for a fantastic Montague to play with. You're perfect.
The room was stifling her, annoying her, suffocating her with every moment she spent in it. The windows were firmly closed (you might get a chill, dear), the conversation perfectly mundane (a lady should never talk of things she can't possibly understand), the company utterly boring (they're from good well-off families, my dear, you'll need to play nice, especially in your position). She was about ready to scream, and she most certainly was not in a mood to 'play nice' to some boring sod who'd she'd be expected to marry for no other reason than him having enough money to make up for the fact that she no longer had any.
It was stifling her.
It had been hours now. Hours of boring conversation and too much hot tea (on a hot day? What was her aunt thinking?) and food she was not allowed to eat because it would 'ruin her figure', which apparently was quite alright after you were married. Her aunt was big as a house. Now though, she saw her chance.
Aunt Parkinson was engrossed in a conversation with that horrible Davies girl, probably sucking up to her because she had money, but it also mean she wasn't paying attention to her, and the door was just there.
Getting up with a well practised smile on her face, Pansy moved towards the door, lifting her skirts to avoid making too much noise (and just perhaps, a bit to show off to the rather pretty men she was not allowed to talk to. The second and third sons of the wealthy families. Uninteresting for her aunt and uncle - as they would not bring in money.
She caught the eye of one of them, the younger Montague-brother, and smirked as she motioned him to be quiet. Then she slipped through the door to the hallway outside, drawing a breath of relief as she leaned back against the wall.
Montague had been bored by the party. These gatherings were necessary, of course, but this one was filled with far too few distractions, and far too much competition for his liking. He wasn't interested in hearing about Malfoy's grand polo defeat of Bulstrode. Not after he had been hearing it now at every party for the last week. Honestly, the man was just full of himself and full of hot air.
The simpering fools who listened to him were vacuous and completely devoid of amusing him beyond a quick grope and fuck. How mind numbingly dull. That was the problem with all these parties. The same women, and he was pretty sure that he'd partaken of all these 'pure' young maidens at some point.
But there was one face he'd noticed earlier. Someone far above his station as the second son of the Montague clan. Pansy Parkinson. He didn't fail to notice the flick and swish of skirt that was aimed in his direction, and he certainly read the suggestion behind that smile that she flashed in his direction. Without a second thought, he swallowed down the rest of his drink, excusing himself from his hosts, and made way to the hallway.
The sound of false laughter was silenced as he closed the door, the hallway dark and peaceful in contrast. Parkinson was there, and he feigned surprise as he crossed her path. "Miss Parkinson," he said with all politeness. "I saw you leave. Are you in any distress?" His eye flicked slightly to the swell of breast that was hinted at under her gown.
She was not too surprised to hear the door, and smirked as she looked at Montague. "Does boredom count as distress?" she asked with a teasing smirk. "Because if it does then I'm in quite a lot of distress at the moment."
She flashed him a smile, not failing to notice where his gaze rested, the corset her aunt had insisted on lacing tighter than she'd wanted it laced pressing into her sides as she tried to breathe. Well there was another distress, was it not? Suffocation from a too tightly laced corset? She giggled at the thought of her aunt's expression if she'd said that part.
Montague was relieved. Here was a girl who seemed to be as bored as he was. And a pretty one at that. A pretty one with a cleavage that provided so much promise as he smirked at her.
"Well now, that's quite fortuitous. I happen to be very good at helping damsels in distress."
Gazing back at her face, he gave her a considered look. "Not to mention I feel I'm quite gifted at alleviating boredom." His eyes shifted slightly towards the door, and his tongue darted quickly to lick his lip. He suspected she was going to be a bit more of a challenge than most girls.
Pansy grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Really, you are? How fortunate for me then,' she said with a smirk. "Though how do I know that you're not just one of those far too many men who knows nothing about alleviating any other boredom than their own?" she asked suggestively.
"I'm not some bint like Davies, after all. It takes more than a few glances and a pretty mouth to make me enjoy myself," she said coyly, looking him over before returning her gaze to his mouth. It was a very tempting one indeed and she couldn't help but to delight in the thought of the shock her aunt would suffer had she known that Pansy was out in a deserted hallway alone with a man, no chaperones around. It was an amusing thought.
Oh indeed, she's going to be a challenge, he thought with a sense of satisfaction. "You'll never, never know, of course..." he said cryptically, his fingers darting out forwardly as he toyed with a curl that had come loose from her hair, "If you don't give a gentleman a chance. Although, I don't see any gentlemen here. Looks like I'll just have to keep you company." He flashed her another smirk as he stepped in a little closer. They were in full view of the hallway, although there was an alcove only a couple of steps away.
The fact she was watching his mouth made him purse his lips in sheer delight. "And what if that pretty mouth told you exactly how it would like to help you relieve your boredom?" He knew now how he was going to approach this, the fact that half of polite society was in the next room was totally irrelevant.
Oh my, he certainly was more interesting than the rest, though Pansy skilfully hid her interest and instead raised a challenging eyebrow. "It would help only if what it said was pleasing enough to listen to," she said with a smirk that matched his own. "And only if the man attached to it - gentleman or not - could live up to its promises."
She followed his gaze to the alcove her body tingling with the excitement at the mere thought. In a world where even the tables wore socks, the thought of doing something completely outrageous was quite thrilling.
Montague stood there, seeing the soft flush of excitement as her eyes followed his to the alcove. "Oh I can live up to all my promises," he said, meeting the challenge in her words.
As quick as a flash, he had grabbed her by the waist and dragged her towards the alcove. His heart was racing from the thrill as he had her pinned against the wall. "You know, your dear Aunt could come through that door at any moment. How on earth would you explain this to her, hmmm?"
He leaned across her ear and whispered. "But what would you tell her if she caught you with your hands under your skirts, pleasing yourself like a common peasant?"
A gasp left her the moment he grabbed her and her breathing grew more laboured already, a wicked smile on her lips. "Oh I'd simply cry about how you've taken such horrible advantage of little poor me," she said with a giggle, an innocent look in her eyes. It would work too, had on the stableman though she did feel slightly guilty at the fact that the man had been fired because of it. It had only been some harmless fun after all. Well harmless for her anyway as there was no proof of anything other than his hand moving to places it shouldn't be.
With the smirk still on her lips, she met his challenge, her body tingling at the sound of his voice. "And now why would I have my hand under my skirts at all?" she asked with feigned innocence. "When there is such a non-gentleman as yourself, Mr Montague, right here?"
"And I'm quite sure she'd die on the spot," she added with a giggle.
He met her bluff with nothing more than a blink. "And since my hands would be firmly tucked in my own pockets, I'd fail to see how anyone would think I was taking advantage of you. Perhaps you dragged me in here with lascivious promises. And here I would be, shocked that a woman such as yourself knew of such things." He raised an eyebrow at her words.
"Perhaps you were indulging me," he said about her hands on herself. "Or perhaps I had you so wet and wanton and aching to come, that you couldn't wait any longer, and even after begging me to fuck you, I didn't, and so you took matters into your own hands." His finger trailed down the fine line of lace at her cleavage, her pale skin in stark contrast to her hair.
He smirked at the comment about her aunt. "And what if Miss Davies caught us? What would you do then? Would you invite her over? Perhaps kiss her on the mouth and let me watch? Or would you like to watch as I bent her over that chair and fucked her? Perhaps that's why you were pleasing yourself."
Pansy chuckled "Well if your hands were stuck firmly in your pockets you wouldn't do much to relieve me from my boredom, now would you?" she asked with a smirk. "And here I thought you were a man of your word."
She couldn't help but to think that he was however because she was certainly not bored any more and her body was positively tingling with desire from just his light touch to her cleavage. "And I'm not in a habit of indulging men who aren't indulging me," she added though her eyes spoke another language. His tongue was absolutely wicked she decided, and it had her aroused beyond anything she'd known. Far better than the rough touches of the stable-boy.
She gasped as she talked of Miss Davies, biting her lip as she thought of the other woman bent over and fucked. She laughed. "Miss Davis is a tart and a tease, who'd bleed prettily on her wedding-night wile lying still and thinking of queen and country," she said with a smirk. "Bend her over and fuck her and I'm alerting the world," she said with a wicked smirk. "After we're done," she added while batting her eyelashes. "I'm sure we could tie her up and offer her to the help and have her caught with them rather than us."
So she was not nice, but then she did not like Miss Davies much.
"Who says I need to touch you to stop your boredom. I could do it with mere words, Miss Parkinson. But then again, I think I'm already getting you a little hot and bothered, hmmm?" He could see it in her eyes, and knew she was begging for more.
"Oh, tsk, tsk," he replied at her harsh assessment of Miss Davies. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" Did he dare tell her that he'd already seen far too much of Miss Davies? That she really was a wanton hussy who had better get herself married quick smart, if Nott's comments about her were as true as his word. And he knew that Nott never exaggerated. Well, not often.
"Are you just jealous that she's already had nearly every man in that room next door, or are you jealous because she refuses to even give you the time of day?" His hand trailed down the front of her gown, feeling the stays of her tight corset as he watched her bosom heave as she breathed. "I'm sure whomever she marries will tire of her quickly, or be very grateful when she's with child and he can look to her maids for his entertainment."
His body pressed up against hers as his hand cupped her breast. With a finger, he tilted her chin up to face him, her lips rich and full of promise. How he'd love to feel them wrapped around his cock, but even he knew some things were just too much to ever hope for. "And what if I tied you up and offered you to the help?" his hands came around, trailing down her arms as he held her wrists firmly behind her back. This had the effect of pushing her cleavage further out, and he could see the faint outline of her nipple peeking over the top of her gown.
His words were arousing her more than she'd ever thought words could, and his forceful but soft touches were only egging her on further. Forcing back a gasp as he cupped her breast she smiled wickedly at him.
"And who is to say I haven't had all the men in that room?" she asked teasingly. "Or maybe I just don't find any of them even half as interesting as I find the help?" she asked, knowing a fair few secrets about the help and their anatomy already. "Maybe you'd find myself enjoying them quite a bit more than you?" she suggested. "I don't know if you've..." she paused, letting her gaze travel down his body. "what it takes to please a woman, after all," she said, though judging from what she felt though the (far too many) layers of her gown, there would be nothing to complain about at all.
Montague just smirked as a sensual but low laugh escaped his lips. "I don't know if you have or if you haven't, but I'm sure if you have, then we're going to have a hell of a lot more fun than if you're as pure as snow."
At her query about his experience, he just raised an eyebrow. "Well I've had no complaints so far. If you're looking for any references, you might want to talk to Miss Greengrass. I believe she compared me to a couple of deities when she as at the height of her pleasure."
His fingers played with the edge of her bodice, and he was mesmerised by that tiny sliver of nipple. Daring to venture down, he dared to pull the fabric down, exposing the dusky pink nipple as his thumb drew circles around it. "You never did answer me," he said with a little more force. There was a hitch in his voice now. "What if I tied you up? Would you struggle and beg like a wanton woman, or would you become all demure and complaint and follow my every command?"
The idea of having her both ways was far too pleasing, and his cock twitched at the thought. He let his hips buck up against her skirts, not knowing if she could tell through so much fabric.
She was surprised to find his laugh as intoxicating as his voice, and she bit her lip and let a soft moan escape her when he pushed the fabric of the gown down to expose her nipple. The knowledge that her aunt, her uncle, everyone she was supposed to kiss up to, was sitting in the room just behind that door only made her more wanton and at his question she licked his lips.
"Demure and compliant is what my aunt and uncle want me to be," she said with a smirk. "I would hope you'd not share their vision or I'd find myself bored again," she said with a chuckle. "I'm not a queen and country kind of lady" she added with a husky groan as he flicked his thumb over her nipple again.
He felt his cock twitch at the soft little moan that escaped her lips. There was a certain thrill to having them like this. So much danger just around the corner, not knowing who would walk through the door. Did he tell her that he had Bletchley watching the door, cutting anyone off if they tried to come through, or did he keep her on her toes, expecting her hideous Aunt to walk through at any moment?
He had suspected she wasn't the demure type, and the idea of her actually complying to any command seemed like it would be more of a challenge. "Well that's good. I like my women like my horses. A hard and fast ride. Demure and compliant is for children."
His finger and thumb closed around the exposed nipple, the bud hardening under the cool air. They pinched it harder, his fingers letting it twist softly. "Now tell me, Miss Parkinson, do you prefer a nice slow ride, or do you like to ride hard and fast?" How he ended up talking horses, he had no idea, but he was going to have her begging for more, and yet he'd barely touched her.
She panted from his touches, rolled her hips against him and wished there wasn't so much fabric to her gown. And yet, she forced her voice to work, forced herself to not close her eyes but keep them steady on him. "You'll find I have more will than a horse, and more intelligence too," she said, before leaning in, as close as she could with her hands held behind her back. "And I'm sure slow is nice if you're trotting around a carefully planted garden, but personally I prefer to ride where I'm not allowed to go." She'd let him make up his own mind about what that meant, but it amused her to not speak clearly.
Just as it aroused her to know someone could come out and see them.
His laugh again filled his ears at her words. Definitely feisty. "Well I'm glad you've more intelligence than a horse, for I fear I don't much care for anything less." She wasn't struggling against his hands, but she was pushing her chest out to him. There were far too many petticoats and frills for his liking, but there was the thrill of danger, and there was sheer stupidity.
"And what of the consequences of riding where you're not allowed?" The hand that had been holding hers back let go, as he let his hips rock against hers, letting her feel exactly how daring he was. With both hands free, he slowly unbuttoned the top buttons of her gown, freeing the breasts that were sitting atop her corset. Both hands went to her breasts, and he let out a soft hiss of breath as he let his hands cup the soft skin.
He slowly leaned down and put his mouth right over her breast. He could see the heat of his breath warming the skin. He looked up at her. "And what happens if you go where you're not allowed and you've tasted the forbidden fruit?" His tongue darted out to toy with her nipple, his mouth breathing cool air over the hardening bud. "What then? Is there any going back?"
His touch and breath was quickly becoming her undoing. She didn't care if her aunt came out, she didn't care if her name was dragged through the mud and she was named a tart. Right now she didn't care about any consequences at all - and yet he was bringing them up.
"There are only consequences if you're caught," she said breathlessly. "And why go back when you can have more?" she asked, her hands sliding up his arms until she was covering his hands.
"Do you often go back to the mundane once you've tasted what is sweeter, Mr Montague?" she asked coyly, licking her lips.
He let out a groan, not because of her words, but because he really was starting to ache for her. His cock was confined far too uncomfortably in his trousers, and he wanted it free. Her breathlessness was real, although the coy licking of the lips was all part of the game. "Oh I never settle for mundane, Miss Parkinson. I only go after what I shouldn't have." Teasing the maids in the scullery was one thing. Toying with the rich heiresses - well - even if he did get caught, he somehow didn't think he'd mind the inevitable consequences of being forced to marry her. At least he knew they'd have fun.
"And when I get it, I like to thoroughly enjoy it." His lips descended again to her breast as a hand started to slide up her thigh. He found the edge of her skirts, the feel of petticoats and stockings. It was a frustration he could do without and he growled low around her nipple.
His mouth around her nipple made her gasp, a hand brought up to catch the sound as she arched into his touch. She finally allowed her eyes to flutter close as she felt her skits slide slowly up her leg, and as he groaned the sensations it caused had her bite down on the back of her hand.
"You're either the worst tease or just what I've been asking for," she moaned softly, not a thought to propriety as she let him raise her skirts, the ruffle of fabric only arousing her further.
Her nipple tasted so sweet, and his lips wanted nothing more than to explore that expanse of skin more thoroughly. But even he knew that any longer, and he would be stretching the boundaries of danger and stupidity.
As his hand finally managed to traverse the layers of fabric, he found bare skin above the top of her stockings, his fingers sliding further up as he felt her thighs part. His fingers found wetness - and he smirked as he looked up at her. She was biting the back of her hand, trying not to cry out in ecstasy. His thumb swirled over the final barrier of fabric as he stood up, his mouth a mere inch from hers as he toyed with the wet bud he knew to be just under those knickers. His fingers skirted along the edge of the fabric, daring to slide under.
But then he stopped completely, drawing his hand back and partway down her leg. He wondered if she was ready to beg. His cock hoped so.
It was so easy to part her legs for him, to let her head fall back and enjoy every sensation he caused, ready to give him all, waiting for him to take what he wanted. And yet, he didn't.
She not so nearly groaned when he pulled back, needing him, needing more, and she could have killed him for being a tease. "'Don't you dare stop now," she said huskily though her breath could barely support her voice any more. He didn't go on though, just smirked at her, teasing her with light touches on the thigh until she was melting under his touch, forgetting all about pride as she begged him for his touch, for his fingers - for more than his fingers. She groaned when he rewarded her, his fingers teasing her, brushing away the fabric covering her folds, finding the slick heat beneath.
'Please, need,' she moaned, the hand not covering her mouth seeking to touch him, anywhere, everywhere, her fingers deftly working enough buttons of his shirt too allow her the feel of skin beneath her fingertips.
She begged almost on his silent command, and Montague couldn't be more pleased. His fingers slid all the way back under the fabric, finding the throbbing but of her clit and pressing hard. Her words spoke straight to his cock. "Perhaps you're the tease," he replied as he grasped her fingers and pressing it hard against the placket of his trousers. He bit his lip, as the time for teasing was well passed.
She gasped as she felt him move closer, his hands moving hers to cover the bulge in his trousers. She moaned, but understood what he requested, undoing the buttons as efficiently as she could, her slender hand wrapping around his cock, a groan that went straight to her groin escaping him. She bit down on her lip, her breast heaving with shallow breaths as she tried to keep from making too much noise, the feeling of his fingers against her clit making her shudder.
"Need," she gasped, just as he pressed his finger harder to her clit, her words caught in her throat.
"Need what?" he asked, his own groans hard to hold back as his thumb moving in slow circles around her clit. He rocked his weeping cock against her hand, aching to fuck her hard. He watched her lips and breasts, the debauched sight of her hardening his cock further. His fingers slid back further, finding her entrance and sliding in as he toyed with her clit. He didn't think she would take very long to come apart under his touch.
Oh he was cruel, positively wicked, and utterly brilliant. Much better than the stable boy. But he couldn't possibly expect her to voice...well say...oh he was horrible. Groaning in spite of herself, she rocked against his hand, so utterly close. "Need you to..." she gave his cock a stroke, shuddering with the tension that was quickly building inside her. Blushing even as she was losing herself in the sensations, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. "…Inside me, need you to take me," she finally relented, her face and neck flushed from more than the hot air that was quickly becoming harder and harder to breathe.
He chuckled now as he saw the conflict of emotions on her face. So there was some sense of propriety about her, and the heated flush on her neck just aroused him further. "You mean you want me to fuck you?" he said softly across her ear, his cock thrusting into her hand as he said it. "I don't take little girls. I only fuck women."
He could feel her writhing against his hand, and he stayed close to her ear. "Are you a girl, or a woman? Go on, say it. Say it, and I'll fuck you so hard, you'll forget who you are and you won't care if your precious Aunt walks in on us." His fingers worked her clit faster, teasing her with all the promise of what was to come.
Her eyes widened at the use of that word. It wasn't as if she'd never heard it, but she'd never ever heard it in polite company - though she guessed this couldn't actually be counted to belong to that category. "You're horrible," she moaned, rocking her hips, gasping as he brought her closer to that edge, feeling her resistance fall away around her as she felt the tension build even more.
"Please fuck me," she begged, blushing furiously, but not caring about anything but the promise of feeling him inside her.
"Not horrible," he corrected her, shifting his fingers away altogether, smirking when she finally expressed what she wanted. He pulled her skirts up more, wishing desperately he could just tear them away from her body. His hand covered hers around his cock, and his fingers laced with hers, thrusting hard just the way he liked as he let his head fall back slightly. Parting the sodden fabric of her knickers, he eagerly ground himself against her, his hand encouraging her leg to wrap around him.
She was writhing as he entered her, the brazen little minx, and he watched her face as he pulled her hips towards him, filling her slowly. She felt exquisite around him, and her pert nipples seemed to ache as they burst out of the top of her bodice. "Ooh, you wriggle too much. Am I going to have to put you across my knee and spank you?" he said as he tried to keep his voice under control. "Or is that for next time?" He slid out, then back in slowly, a hand creeping back to her clit as it brushed over it.
His voice was keeping her firmly in his grasp, and she writhed with pleasure from his every touch, biting down on her lip hard to keep from shouting as he entered her, her body screaming for more even as she couldn't do the same.
The thought of a next time, of him having control of her, of anything involving him had her even more wanton, made her want him more as she rocked her hips to meet his thrusts. The feeling of him filling her so completely had her panting with need, the corset fighting her every breath, the fabric of her gown in the way when she wanted to get closer, the velvet around her throat tight as she tried to swallow.
"Next time," she groaned, not wanting to stop for anything in the world, his thrusts sending waves of pleasure through her over and over. Her hands were clutching at his shoulders for balance, her leg trying to stay up around his hip to give him access, but she didn't care that it was awkward, just about the pleasure washing over her. As his fingers brushed against her clit she leaned in quickly, biting down on his shoulder as she felt the tension snap forcing her to cry out against him as orgasm ripped through her body, making her whole body shiver and shudder.
He couldn't hide the smirk at her apparent assent to another assignation, knowing he could toy with her so much in the meantime. But right now she was coming apart under his fingers and her heaving chest adding to the allure as she struggled to get closer to him. He was nearly undone himself, panting heavily as his fingers urged her over the edge. When she came, biting him hard on the shoulder, he growled, and finally let himself go.
His hands were on her hips, and he pounded her against the wall, grunting with each thrust as she clenched around him. He came over the edge with only a few more thrusts, shooting deep and shuddering hard.
He was still spurting when he pulled out, his seed spilling on the pretty petticoats as he pulled away. Panting hard and showing the sated desire in his eyes, he glanced towards the door, a satisfied smirk on his face.
She could barely breathe, the corset too tight as she nearly collapsed in his arms, panting, her pulse raising fast. She was breathless, but sated, and as she looked up she smirked, seeing the same satisfaction in his eyes as in her own. She did not care about the mess, or about her hair coming undone or her skin being flushed.
She cared about the utter satisfaction she was feeling, and when he glanced towards the door she nearly laughed, a giggle escaping her. "It would seem you do live up to your word, Mr Montague," she said while worrying her lip. "I certainly don't feel bored any more."
Author: millieweasley and faraday
Characters: Pansy/Montague
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Wall-sex, Dirty talk
Kinks chosen: AU (no magic, set in the 19th century, no spoilers what so ever)
Word Count: 5269
Summary: Pansy is bored - but perhaps Montague can
Author's notes: Thanks to Fara for a fantastic Montague to play with. You're perfect.
The room was stifling her, annoying her, suffocating her with every moment she spent in it. The windows were firmly closed (you might get a chill, dear), the conversation perfectly mundane (a lady should never talk of things she can't possibly understand), the company utterly boring (they're from good well-off families, my dear, you'll need to play nice, especially in your position). She was about ready to scream, and she most certainly was not in a mood to 'play nice' to some boring sod who'd she'd be expected to marry for no other reason than him having enough money to make up for the fact that she no longer had any.
It was stifling her.
It had been hours now. Hours of boring conversation and too much hot tea (on a hot day? What was her aunt thinking?) and food she was not allowed to eat because it would 'ruin her figure', which apparently was quite alright after you were married. Her aunt was big as a house. Now though, she saw her chance.
Aunt Parkinson was engrossed in a conversation with that horrible Davies girl, probably sucking up to her because she had money, but it also mean she wasn't paying attention to her, and the door was just there.
Getting up with a well practised smile on her face, Pansy moved towards the door, lifting her skirts to avoid making too much noise (and just perhaps, a bit to show off to the rather pretty men she was not allowed to talk to. The second and third sons of the wealthy families. Uninteresting for her aunt and uncle - as they would not bring in money.
She caught the eye of one of them, the younger Montague-brother, and smirked as she motioned him to be quiet. Then she slipped through the door to the hallway outside, drawing a breath of relief as she leaned back against the wall.
Montague had been bored by the party. These gatherings were necessary, of course, but this one was filled with far too few distractions, and far too much competition for his liking. He wasn't interested in hearing about Malfoy's grand polo defeat of Bulstrode. Not after he had been hearing it now at every party for the last week. Honestly, the man was just full of himself and full of hot air.
The simpering fools who listened to him were vacuous and completely devoid of amusing him beyond a quick grope and fuck. How mind numbingly dull. That was the problem with all these parties. The same women, and he was pretty sure that he'd partaken of all these 'pure' young maidens at some point.
But there was one face he'd noticed earlier. Someone far above his station as the second son of the Montague clan. Pansy Parkinson. He didn't fail to notice the flick and swish of skirt that was aimed in his direction, and he certainly read the suggestion behind that smile that she flashed in his direction. Without a second thought, he swallowed down the rest of his drink, excusing himself from his hosts, and made way to the hallway.
The sound of false laughter was silenced as he closed the door, the hallway dark and peaceful in contrast. Parkinson was there, and he feigned surprise as he crossed her path. "Miss Parkinson," he said with all politeness. "I saw you leave. Are you in any distress?" His eye flicked slightly to the swell of breast that was hinted at under her gown.
She was not too surprised to hear the door, and smirked as she looked at Montague. "Does boredom count as distress?" she asked with a teasing smirk. "Because if it does then I'm in quite a lot of distress at the moment."
She flashed him a smile, not failing to notice where his gaze rested, the corset her aunt had insisted on lacing tighter than she'd wanted it laced pressing into her sides as she tried to breathe. Well there was another distress, was it not? Suffocation from a too tightly laced corset? She giggled at the thought of her aunt's expression if she'd said that part.
Montague was relieved. Here was a girl who seemed to be as bored as he was. And a pretty one at that. A pretty one with a cleavage that provided so much promise as he smirked at her.
"Well now, that's quite fortuitous. I happen to be very good at helping damsels in distress."
Gazing back at her face, he gave her a considered look. "Not to mention I feel I'm quite gifted at alleviating boredom." His eyes shifted slightly towards the door, and his tongue darted quickly to lick his lip. He suspected she was going to be a bit more of a challenge than most girls.
Pansy grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Really, you are? How fortunate for me then,' she said with a smirk. "Though how do I know that you're not just one of those far too many men who knows nothing about alleviating any other boredom than their own?" she asked suggestively.
"I'm not some bint like Davies, after all. It takes more than a few glances and a pretty mouth to make me enjoy myself," she said coyly, looking him over before returning her gaze to his mouth. It was a very tempting one indeed and she couldn't help but to delight in the thought of the shock her aunt would suffer had she known that Pansy was out in a deserted hallway alone with a man, no chaperones around. It was an amusing thought.
Oh indeed, she's going to be a challenge, he thought with a sense of satisfaction. "You'll never, never know, of course..." he said cryptically, his fingers darting out forwardly as he toyed with a curl that had come loose from her hair, "If you don't give a gentleman a chance. Although, I don't see any gentlemen here. Looks like I'll just have to keep you company." He flashed her another smirk as he stepped in a little closer. They were in full view of the hallway, although there was an alcove only a couple of steps away.
The fact she was watching his mouth made him purse his lips in sheer delight. "And what if that pretty mouth told you exactly how it would like to help you relieve your boredom?" He knew now how he was going to approach this, the fact that half of polite society was in the next room was totally irrelevant.
Oh my, he certainly was more interesting than the rest, though Pansy skilfully hid her interest and instead raised a challenging eyebrow. "It would help only if what it said was pleasing enough to listen to," she said with a smirk that matched his own. "And only if the man attached to it - gentleman or not - could live up to its promises."
She followed his gaze to the alcove her body tingling with the excitement at the mere thought. In a world where even the tables wore socks, the thought of doing something completely outrageous was quite thrilling.
Montague stood there, seeing the soft flush of excitement as her eyes followed his to the alcove. "Oh I can live up to all my promises," he said, meeting the challenge in her words.
As quick as a flash, he had grabbed her by the waist and dragged her towards the alcove. His heart was racing from the thrill as he had her pinned against the wall. "You know, your dear Aunt could come through that door at any moment. How on earth would you explain this to her, hmmm?"
He leaned across her ear and whispered. "But what would you tell her if she caught you with your hands under your skirts, pleasing yourself like a common peasant?"
A gasp left her the moment he grabbed her and her breathing grew more laboured already, a wicked smile on her lips. "Oh I'd simply cry about how you've taken such horrible advantage of little poor me," she said with a giggle, an innocent look in her eyes. It would work too, had on the stableman though she did feel slightly guilty at the fact that the man had been fired because of it. It had only been some harmless fun after all. Well harmless for her anyway as there was no proof of anything other than his hand moving to places it shouldn't be.
With the smirk still on her lips, she met his challenge, her body tingling at the sound of his voice. "And now why would I have my hand under my skirts at all?" she asked with feigned innocence. "When there is such a non-gentleman as yourself, Mr Montague, right here?"
"And I'm quite sure she'd die on the spot," she added with a giggle.
He met her bluff with nothing more than a blink. "And since my hands would be firmly tucked in my own pockets, I'd fail to see how anyone would think I was taking advantage of you. Perhaps you dragged me in here with lascivious promises. And here I would be, shocked that a woman such as yourself knew of such things." He raised an eyebrow at her words.
"Perhaps you were indulging me," he said about her hands on herself. "Or perhaps I had you so wet and wanton and aching to come, that you couldn't wait any longer, and even after begging me to fuck you, I didn't, and so you took matters into your own hands." His finger trailed down the fine line of lace at her cleavage, her pale skin in stark contrast to her hair.
He smirked at the comment about her aunt. "And what if Miss Davies caught us? What would you do then? Would you invite her over? Perhaps kiss her on the mouth and let me watch? Or would you like to watch as I bent her over that chair and fucked her? Perhaps that's why you were pleasing yourself."
Pansy chuckled "Well if your hands were stuck firmly in your pockets you wouldn't do much to relieve me from my boredom, now would you?" she asked with a smirk. "And here I thought you were a man of your word."
She couldn't help but to think that he was however because she was certainly not bored any more and her body was positively tingling with desire from just his light touch to her cleavage. "And I'm not in a habit of indulging men who aren't indulging me," she added though her eyes spoke another language. His tongue was absolutely wicked she decided, and it had her aroused beyond anything she'd known. Far better than the rough touches of the stable-boy.
She gasped as she talked of Miss Davies, biting her lip as she thought of the other woman bent over and fucked. She laughed. "Miss Davis is a tart and a tease, who'd bleed prettily on her wedding-night wile lying still and thinking of queen and country," she said with a smirk. "Bend her over and fuck her and I'm alerting the world," she said with a wicked smirk. "After we're done," she added while batting her eyelashes. "I'm sure we could tie her up and offer her to the help and have her caught with them rather than us."
So she was not nice, but then she did not like Miss Davies much.
"Who says I need to touch you to stop your boredom. I could do it with mere words, Miss Parkinson. But then again, I think I'm already getting you a little hot and bothered, hmmm?" He could see it in her eyes, and knew she was begging for more.
"Oh, tsk, tsk," he replied at her harsh assessment of Miss Davies. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" Did he dare tell her that he'd already seen far too much of Miss Davies? That she really was a wanton hussy who had better get herself married quick smart, if Nott's comments about her were as true as his word. And he knew that Nott never exaggerated. Well, not often.
"Are you just jealous that she's already had nearly every man in that room next door, or are you jealous because she refuses to even give you the time of day?" His hand trailed down the front of her gown, feeling the stays of her tight corset as he watched her bosom heave as she breathed. "I'm sure whomever she marries will tire of her quickly, or be very grateful when she's with child and he can look to her maids for his entertainment."
His body pressed up against hers as his hand cupped her breast. With a finger, he tilted her chin up to face him, her lips rich and full of promise. How he'd love to feel them wrapped around his cock, but even he knew some things were just too much to ever hope for. "And what if I tied you up and offered you to the help?" his hands came around, trailing down her arms as he held her wrists firmly behind her back. This had the effect of pushing her cleavage further out, and he could see the faint outline of her nipple peeking over the top of her gown.
His words were arousing her more than she'd ever thought words could, and his forceful but soft touches were only egging her on further. Forcing back a gasp as he cupped her breast she smiled wickedly at him.
"And who is to say I haven't had all the men in that room?" she asked teasingly. "Or maybe I just don't find any of them even half as interesting as I find the help?" she asked, knowing a fair few secrets about the help and their anatomy already. "Maybe you'd find myself enjoying them quite a bit more than you?" she suggested. "I don't know if you've..." she paused, letting her gaze travel down his body. "what it takes to please a woman, after all," she said, though judging from what she felt though the (far too many) layers of her gown, there would be nothing to complain about at all.
Montague just smirked as a sensual but low laugh escaped his lips. "I don't know if you have or if you haven't, but I'm sure if you have, then we're going to have a hell of a lot more fun than if you're as pure as snow."
At her query about his experience, he just raised an eyebrow. "Well I've had no complaints so far. If you're looking for any references, you might want to talk to Miss Greengrass. I believe she compared me to a couple of deities when she as at the height of her pleasure."
His fingers played with the edge of her bodice, and he was mesmerised by that tiny sliver of nipple. Daring to venture down, he dared to pull the fabric down, exposing the dusky pink nipple as his thumb drew circles around it. "You never did answer me," he said with a little more force. There was a hitch in his voice now. "What if I tied you up? Would you struggle and beg like a wanton woman, or would you become all demure and complaint and follow my every command?"
The idea of having her both ways was far too pleasing, and his cock twitched at the thought. He let his hips buck up against her skirts, not knowing if she could tell through so much fabric.
She was surprised to find his laugh as intoxicating as his voice, and she bit her lip and let a soft moan escape her when he pushed the fabric of the gown down to expose her nipple. The knowledge that her aunt, her uncle, everyone she was supposed to kiss up to, was sitting in the room just behind that door only made her more wanton and at his question she licked his lips.
"Demure and compliant is what my aunt and uncle want me to be," she said with a smirk. "I would hope you'd not share their vision or I'd find myself bored again," she said with a chuckle. "I'm not a queen and country kind of lady" she added with a husky groan as he flicked his thumb over her nipple again.
He felt his cock twitch at the soft little moan that escaped her lips. There was a certain thrill to having them like this. So much danger just around the corner, not knowing who would walk through the door. Did he tell her that he had Bletchley watching the door, cutting anyone off if they tried to come through, or did he keep her on her toes, expecting her hideous Aunt to walk through at any moment?
He had suspected she wasn't the demure type, and the idea of her actually complying to any command seemed like it would be more of a challenge. "Well that's good. I like my women like my horses. A hard and fast ride. Demure and compliant is for children."
His finger and thumb closed around the exposed nipple, the bud hardening under the cool air. They pinched it harder, his fingers letting it twist softly. "Now tell me, Miss Parkinson, do you prefer a nice slow ride, or do you like to ride hard and fast?" How he ended up talking horses, he had no idea, but he was going to have her begging for more, and yet he'd barely touched her.
She panted from his touches, rolled her hips against him and wished there wasn't so much fabric to her gown. And yet, she forced her voice to work, forced herself to not close her eyes but keep them steady on him. "You'll find I have more will than a horse, and more intelligence too," she said, before leaning in, as close as she could with her hands held behind her back. "And I'm sure slow is nice if you're trotting around a carefully planted garden, but personally I prefer to ride where I'm not allowed to go." She'd let him make up his own mind about what that meant, but it amused her to not speak clearly.
Just as it aroused her to know someone could come out and see them.
His laugh again filled his ears at her words. Definitely feisty. "Well I'm glad you've more intelligence than a horse, for I fear I don't much care for anything less." She wasn't struggling against his hands, but she was pushing her chest out to him. There were far too many petticoats and frills for his liking, but there was the thrill of danger, and there was sheer stupidity.
"And what of the consequences of riding where you're not allowed?" The hand that had been holding hers back let go, as he let his hips rock against hers, letting her feel exactly how daring he was. With both hands free, he slowly unbuttoned the top buttons of her gown, freeing the breasts that were sitting atop her corset. Both hands went to her breasts, and he let out a soft hiss of breath as he let his hands cup the soft skin.
He slowly leaned down and put his mouth right over her breast. He could see the heat of his breath warming the skin. He looked up at her. "And what happens if you go where you're not allowed and you've tasted the forbidden fruit?" His tongue darted out to toy with her nipple, his mouth breathing cool air over the hardening bud. "What then? Is there any going back?"
His touch and breath was quickly becoming her undoing. She didn't care if her aunt came out, she didn't care if her name was dragged through the mud and she was named a tart. Right now she didn't care about any consequences at all - and yet he was bringing them up.
"There are only consequences if you're caught," she said breathlessly. "And why go back when you can have more?" she asked, her hands sliding up his arms until she was covering his hands.
"Do you often go back to the mundane once you've tasted what is sweeter, Mr Montague?" she asked coyly, licking her lips.
He let out a groan, not because of her words, but because he really was starting to ache for her. His cock was confined far too uncomfortably in his trousers, and he wanted it free. Her breathlessness was real, although the coy licking of the lips was all part of the game. "Oh I never settle for mundane, Miss Parkinson. I only go after what I shouldn't have." Teasing the maids in the scullery was one thing. Toying with the rich heiresses - well - even if he did get caught, he somehow didn't think he'd mind the inevitable consequences of being forced to marry her. At least he knew they'd have fun.
"And when I get it, I like to thoroughly enjoy it." His lips descended again to her breast as a hand started to slide up her thigh. He found the edge of her skirts, the feel of petticoats and stockings. It was a frustration he could do without and he growled low around her nipple.
His mouth around her nipple made her gasp, a hand brought up to catch the sound as she arched into his touch. She finally allowed her eyes to flutter close as she felt her skits slide slowly up her leg, and as he groaned the sensations it caused had her bite down on the back of her hand.
"You're either the worst tease or just what I've been asking for," she moaned softly, not a thought to propriety as she let him raise her skirts, the ruffle of fabric only arousing her further.
Her nipple tasted so sweet, and his lips wanted nothing more than to explore that expanse of skin more thoroughly. But even he knew that any longer, and he would be stretching the boundaries of danger and stupidity.
As his hand finally managed to traverse the layers of fabric, he found bare skin above the top of her stockings, his fingers sliding further up as he felt her thighs part. His fingers found wetness - and he smirked as he looked up at her. She was biting the back of her hand, trying not to cry out in ecstasy. His thumb swirled over the final barrier of fabric as he stood up, his mouth a mere inch from hers as he toyed with the wet bud he knew to be just under those knickers. His fingers skirted along the edge of the fabric, daring to slide under.
But then he stopped completely, drawing his hand back and partway down her leg. He wondered if she was ready to beg. His cock hoped so.
It was so easy to part her legs for him, to let her head fall back and enjoy every sensation he caused, ready to give him all, waiting for him to take what he wanted. And yet, he didn't.
She not so nearly groaned when he pulled back, needing him, needing more, and she could have killed him for being a tease. "'Don't you dare stop now," she said huskily though her breath could barely support her voice any more. He didn't go on though, just smirked at her, teasing her with light touches on the thigh until she was melting under his touch, forgetting all about pride as she begged him for his touch, for his fingers - for more than his fingers. She groaned when he rewarded her, his fingers teasing her, brushing away the fabric covering her folds, finding the slick heat beneath.
'Please, need,' she moaned, the hand not covering her mouth seeking to touch him, anywhere, everywhere, her fingers deftly working enough buttons of his shirt too allow her the feel of skin beneath her fingertips.
She begged almost on his silent command, and Montague couldn't be more pleased. His fingers slid all the way back under the fabric, finding the throbbing but of her clit and pressing hard. Her words spoke straight to his cock. "Perhaps you're the tease," he replied as he grasped her fingers and pressing it hard against the placket of his trousers. He bit his lip, as the time for teasing was well passed.
She gasped as she felt him move closer, his hands moving hers to cover the bulge in his trousers. She moaned, but understood what he requested, undoing the buttons as efficiently as she could, her slender hand wrapping around his cock, a groan that went straight to her groin escaping him. She bit down on her lip, her breast heaving with shallow breaths as she tried to keep from making too much noise, the feeling of his fingers against her clit making her shudder.
"Need," she gasped, just as he pressed his finger harder to her clit, her words caught in her throat.
"Need what?" he asked, his own groans hard to hold back as his thumb moving in slow circles around her clit. He rocked his weeping cock against her hand, aching to fuck her hard. He watched her lips and breasts, the debauched sight of her hardening his cock further. His fingers slid back further, finding her entrance and sliding in as he toyed with her clit. He didn't think she would take very long to come apart under his touch.
Oh he was cruel, positively wicked, and utterly brilliant. Much better than the stable boy. But he couldn't possibly expect her to voice...well say...oh he was horrible. Groaning in spite of herself, she rocked against his hand, so utterly close. "Need you to..." she gave his cock a stroke, shuddering with the tension that was quickly building inside her. Blushing even as she was losing herself in the sensations, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. "…Inside me, need you to take me," she finally relented, her face and neck flushed from more than the hot air that was quickly becoming harder and harder to breathe.
He chuckled now as he saw the conflict of emotions on her face. So there was some sense of propriety about her, and the heated flush on her neck just aroused him further. "You mean you want me to fuck you?" he said softly across her ear, his cock thrusting into her hand as he said it. "I don't take little girls. I only fuck women."
He could feel her writhing against his hand, and he stayed close to her ear. "Are you a girl, or a woman? Go on, say it. Say it, and I'll fuck you so hard, you'll forget who you are and you won't care if your precious Aunt walks in on us." His fingers worked her clit faster, teasing her with all the promise of what was to come.
Her eyes widened at the use of that word. It wasn't as if she'd never heard it, but she'd never ever heard it in polite company - though she guessed this couldn't actually be counted to belong to that category. "You're horrible," she moaned, rocking her hips, gasping as he brought her closer to that edge, feeling her resistance fall away around her as she felt the tension build even more.
"Please fuck me," she begged, blushing furiously, but not caring about anything but the promise of feeling him inside her.
"Not horrible," he corrected her, shifting his fingers away altogether, smirking when she finally expressed what she wanted. He pulled her skirts up more, wishing desperately he could just tear them away from her body. His hand covered hers around his cock, and his fingers laced with hers, thrusting hard just the way he liked as he let his head fall back slightly. Parting the sodden fabric of her knickers, he eagerly ground himself against her, his hand encouraging her leg to wrap around him.
She was writhing as he entered her, the brazen little minx, and he watched her face as he pulled her hips towards him, filling her slowly. She felt exquisite around him, and her pert nipples seemed to ache as they burst out of the top of her bodice. "Ooh, you wriggle too much. Am I going to have to put you across my knee and spank you?" he said as he tried to keep his voice under control. "Or is that for next time?" He slid out, then back in slowly, a hand creeping back to her clit as it brushed over it.
His voice was keeping her firmly in his grasp, and she writhed with pleasure from his every touch, biting down on her lip hard to keep from shouting as he entered her, her body screaming for more even as she couldn't do the same.
The thought of a next time, of him having control of her, of anything involving him had her even more wanton, made her want him more as she rocked her hips to meet his thrusts. The feeling of him filling her so completely had her panting with need, the corset fighting her every breath, the fabric of her gown in the way when she wanted to get closer, the velvet around her throat tight as she tried to swallow.
"Next time," she groaned, not wanting to stop for anything in the world, his thrusts sending waves of pleasure through her over and over. Her hands were clutching at his shoulders for balance, her leg trying to stay up around his hip to give him access, but she didn't care that it was awkward, just about the pleasure washing over her. As his fingers brushed against her clit she leaned in quickly, biting down on his shoulder as she felt the tension snap forcing her to cry out against him as orgasm ripped through her body, making her whole body shiver and shudder.
He couldn't hide the smirk at her apparent assent to another assignation, knowing he could toy with her so much in the meantime. But right now she was coming apart under his fingers and her heaving chest adding to the allure as she struggled to get closer to him. He was nearly undone himself, panting heavily as his fingers urged her over the edge. When she came, biting him hard on the shoulder, he growled, and finally let himself go.
His hands were on her hips, and he pounded her against the wall, grunting with each thrust as she clenched around him. He came over the edge with only a few more thrusts, shooting deep and shuddering hard.
He was still spurting when he pulled out, his seed spilling on the pretty petticoats as he pulled away. Panting hard and showing the sated desire in his eyes, he glanced towards the door, a satisfied smirk on his face.
She could barely breathe, the corset too tight as she nearly collapsed in his arms, panting, her pulse raising fast. She was breathless, but sated, and as she looked up she smirked, seeing the same satisfaction in his eyes as in her own. She did not care about the mess, or about her hair coming undone or her skin being flushed.
She cared about the utter satisfaction she was feeling, and when he glanced towards the door she nearly laughed, a giggle escaping her. "It would seem you do live up to your word, Mr Montague," she said while worrying her lip. "I certainly don't feel bored any more."