It was a cool November evening in London, and the weather had been dreary. And as always when there was a rare warm day, people spent any time they could in the sun. The upper class were no exception, and it seemed, nefarious plotters did not either. A new hermetic order had cast its lot as ‘anti-royalist’ (though we all knew who they were) and when the Queen’s secret service came knocking at Henry’s shop, it was time for the Assassins to bring the blades to the ball.
I roved the room, finding myself placed prominently at the Queen’s side, finding all these rich types a little less to be desired. How they could mill about laughing and standing around cakes and fine silver, while all day I had sat in the mud which smelled as it always did, of an earthy cocktail of cat piss and grass, with the Rooks. It was not something I resented about them, but the sudden shift in climate was unsettling. Jacob was as usual, unfazed, and I caught him downing several tarts before he purposely gave me a crumby grin. Across the room, I knew Evie had seen it too, but only to someone who knew her, could you tell she was annoyed. She was impeccably dressed in a blue gown this time, chatting idly with some rich fellow who clearly had an angry wife at home. Henry stood by the Maharajah’s side, the esteemed guest and friend of Her Majesty. It brought a smile to my lips, seeing Henry there, though no one knew he was Mr Singh’s kin, while he posed under the guise of a bodyguard from home, I saw family.
My vision shimmered, and I spotted a blur of red, moving towards the White room, and I moved to saunter towards it, before my wrist was caught by a warm grasp. I turned to see Jacob, no traces of his tasty thievery on him at all. And I explained our situation. I made eye contact with the Queen who, as sharp as ever, nodded, before we disappeared into the crowd. We scanned the room, and Jacob broke off to flank the target, I headed in a tangent to the ratty looking man, both of us moving in unison, and soon I could see the whites of his eyes. His cruel scowl met my determined eyes before they flashed into a gasp of shock and a burst of blood burst through his coat front. Jacob caught the body before it could collapse and I helped him hide it behind a haystack near the trees.
I sighed, hands on my hips, forgetting for a moment that I was in a puffy dress and it was unladylike. But before I could catch myself, Jacob pulled me into a curtained booth. I opened my mouth but Jacob’s finger tapped my lips.
“Shh… I think I see another one…” Jacob hissed. I stiffened, and flattened myself against him, forgetting that I was, again in a dress, and that we were in a small dark booth. I listened intently, and turned to see him watching me. Our eyes met and a current of something I knew too well surged between us. How his hands got under that ridiculous skirt and unlaced the crinoline, where it dropped to the floor, allowing me room to press myself against him more firmly.
“Jacob we shouldn’t…” I whispered. Jacob gave the strangest look and small smile, uncharacteristically thoughtful, and he leaned closer, and pressed his lips to mine. I felt his stubble warm and tickle my cheek and his nose nudge my jaw wider to allow his tongue to rove in my mouth. He pulled away and leant his forehead close.
“I saw you there…smiling at the throne… You looked so beautiful. You were radiant, null… You looked like you should’ve been the one wearing the crown, talking to all those bootlickers, with the entire world at your feet…” Jacob sighed. I dared a smile, and kissed his neck.
“I don’t want the world at my feet…” I answered. “I just want you…”
Jacob’s famous short laugh breathed into my ear. “You do have me… My heart and soul at your service…” His short speech was followed by him kneeling before me, as small as the cramped space may be, and sliding a hand up my skirt, along my thigh and lifting it, settling his fingers just there. I felt my face burn and my heart race as his lips hovered over mine. His warm breath tousled the hair and when he buried his face between my legs, I let out a small cry. I caught my breath and covered my mouth, as Jacob started devouring me ravenously – his tongue flicking at the pearl with such force and delicate skill I nearly bit my tongue. His fingers were digging inside me and when I felt his teeth nip gently at that sweet spot and his fingers pressing there, I ripped at his hair when I came, letting out a silent scream.
Jacob stood, letting me catch my breath as he wiped his mouth. His front messy and soiled and I blushed seeing the evidence of my arousal on his mouth, in contrast to the tart he had earlier. I gasped again when his mouth met mine, and then I could feel his arousal pressing against me, my leaking entrance wetting his pants. His hands found the front and the clink of his belt was enough to restart my heart’s erratic pace. He lifted me high, bracing me against the wall, and I needed no help holding on, when his cock, finally freed, slid carefully into place without any aid. I struggled for control, when he slid, in and out, sheathing fully into me and teasing that place inside me. I bit his neck, trying to control my voice, each time his head speared me and I wanted to gasp my pleasure. There was not but the sound of my soft gasps and the slick of his dick, oiled up and rubbing against my walls. The orgasm I had earlier, easing his path between my legs, but the volume of my cum along his shaft increased, as his pace did. My gasps became more audible and I was sure by now, someone outside could hear the splish and splash of his dick inside me, scrabbling for purchase against the inside of my womb.
Then, his breath joined the symphony of sex, growing laboured, more urgent and violent as he cracked his hips against me. My moans could barely be contained now, and soon I was moaning in time with him. He smacked against me again and again and I squeezed my eyes as he groaned a final time, shooting his orgasm and his last few thrusts as he let out the last of his seed. We panted and sighed together, and I opened my eyes. Jacob’s hair was messy and stood everywhere but his eyes were focused and alive. He looked more awake than he had this entire evening. Not even when we hunted our target, together.
The mission…. My thoughts slowly came back to me and I blinked once in recognition. I let myself down and pulled my hair out of my face.
“Ahem.”
There was a silent stab of horror and the booth became a cramped space of frantic movement; we pulled our clothes on and he straightened and wiped himself down and we banged our heads more than once and jostled about so much it was almost comical that we even tried to be discreet in our recovery. We crashed out of the curtains to find, to my most immense embarrassment and horror, Queen Victoria staring at the two of us most stoically. She was alone – thank god – but a small part of my lust filled brain thankfully questioned why she had no guard with her.
“Mister Frye. Miss null.” She greeted in the tone she always had, with singular authority but most certainly no judgement. “You will be happy to note that the remaining threats at this event has been dealt with by Miss Frye and Mister Green. I do thank you for your aid in this matter but…”
My heart sank as the cold chill of the London breeze ghosted over my still hot bare shoulders.
“…do try to be more discreet about the way you handle things. Good night.” Without so much as another word, the monarch turned and tapped back to the party. I stared in shock and awe, and if not for me looking after her, would have missed her small glance back in our direction, and a sly wink at us.
We stood there in mortified but relieved silence, still feeling the remnants of our night’s activities on our bodies, where I could feel Jacob’s gift to me leaking out of me most uncomfortably. This had not been a good idea at all. What on earth came over me? Well, Jacob did… I shook my head lamely.
“Did that just happen?” I croaked. I looked to Jacob, who glanced back, though stunned, but still unshakeable, and shrugged with the most devilish grin he had, while a single drop of dew splashed unto the floor between my legs. He was certainly having a ball.