The Mistress and Her Men by Minerva Howe

Author:Minerva Howe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Femme domme;femdom;alpha male;male submissive;spanking;anal sex;mmf;mm;m/m/f;m/m;gay;bisexual;domination;riding crop;discipline;bondage;viscount;baron
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2015-10-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Felice laughed, all of the birds in the cages at the shop they were passing dancing and flapping their wings. How adorable. The birds in the Town always looked so…sooty and sad. These seemed healthy, singing their songs and flitting from perch to perch.

“Would you like one?” Matthias asked, coming up behind her, his breath on her cheek when he leaned over to see the captive animals.

“Oh, no. I would only let them go. Poor things, in a cage their whole lives. I do like to listen to them, though.”

“They’re lovely,” Simon agreed, joining them at the shop. “Not as lovely as you.”

She resisted the urge to flutter just like the birds. The last few days had been a dream, an idyll beyond her wildest dreams. A lover more attentive than Simon would be impossible, and as a slave Matthias was incomparable.

Together they were a force that threatened to make her forget herself, to leave her life behind and pretend they could play this game forever.

“Here.” Matthias moved to the next shop and lifted up an elaborate bonnet with faux birds nesting on it. “Maybe this is what you need instead.”

“Oh, much better.” How charming. She touched a ribbon, deciding to buy it right then and there. “I think this one must be mine.”

“I shall have it delivered to the house,” Simon murmured, passing her so he could talk with the milliner.

They were on the high street of Lincoln, wandering, visiting shops and buying trinkets. She had not had such a carefree day since she was a girl. Simon was generous, dropping coin on tiny pies and lemon sweets, and Matthias had a wicked humor that kept both her and Simon laughing. They had bought Matthias a neck cloth and Simon new stockings, and were making their way toward a stand with more sweets, the little cakes with some kind of spice in them that smelled delicious from a distance.

Simon stepped out of the milliner’s, bowing. “It will arrive in the morning.”

“You are too kind, Simon.” Felice tapped his arm with her fan. She wore her lightest dress suitable for venturing out, but she still felt overheated. Maybe that state came from the frequent glances and touches her companions visited upon her.

These two men would make any woman faint and steamy.

“I only wish to make you happy,” Simon said, his gray eyes dancing when he pinched Matthias on the bum, making him jump.

“You’re succeeding.” She dipped him a tiny curtsey. Really, Simon was a new man since they’d come to him demanding that he become a part of their games instead of a watcher.

“Viscount Thatcher!” A high-pitched voice came from across the lane, a woman wearing an elaborate robe à la français and an immense powdered wig waving at Simon with a dainty hand, her thin dust-cover cloak bouncing. “Fancy seeing you here!”

Simon groaned quietly. “Good God. It’s Lady Mowerly. Her husband must be nearby.”

“Is she local?” Felice asked.

“No, she’s from Town. Her mother remarried hereabouts, I think.”

“Ah.” Felice wasn’t sure whether to step away or stay close.

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