Nights in white satin – Duncan's story
A Revolution fic: Sebastian (Bass) Monroe/Miles Matheson/Duncan Page), Drexel; Mention of characters from the show. Based on prompt #97 from the Orgy Armada's fan fic all Ships challenge - Revolution, the second coming, cross posted on Ao3.
Duncan Page and six other girls are stolen from their Clan by slavers and sold to Drexel. The day they arrive at Drexel's mansion, Generals Bass Monroe and Miles Matheson also arrive for a surprise visit and when Drexel sends Duncan to entertain them Bass realises that she is not there voluntarily, he and Miles work out a plan to help the girls, and in doing so, Bass does his future self a big favour.
Rating M
Author's note:
Hi there and thanks so much for having a look at this… hope you enjoy …
I don't own any part of Revolution and am writing this purely for love of the show and its characters – I really, really don't like Drexel though (actor Todd Stashwick did a great job of making Drexel pretty well irredeemable) and I cheered when Aaron shot him...
Nights in white satin – Duncan's story
Drexel's mansion in Columbia, Ohio, 8 years after the blackout…
Drexel was standing on the balcony outside his bedroom, having a pre-dinner glass of wine and admiring his lovely, lucrative poppies. The fields of blood red flowers stretched over the hills and far away, a light breeze blowing them into gorgeous waves, their colours intense crimsons, vermilions, casting long, vibrant green tinted shadows in the late afternoon sun... He smiled, taking a deep breath in of the sweet, sweet smell of success, forgetting his anger? Irritation? Righteous indignation? For just a moment anyway…
Fresh, homegrown heroin, pretty girls and boys, he could cater for everything from sweet vanilla to anything goes parties where masks and safe words were chosen at the door… He could provide anything and everything anybody could want or desire – as long as they had the diamonds - or happened to be the Commanding General of the fucking Monroe Republic…
He turned to the small, wizened man standing by the French doors, 'Is everything ready, Jose?' he took an angry sip…'Miles Matheson should have more respect...' his face flushed red… 'Giving me one fucking hours notice that he and the President are coming for dinner; what is that?'
Jose shuffled his feet…'Cook's got it all organised, Boss, don't worry… Did you still want to check out the new girls before dinner?'
Drexel hesitated… he was torn, a bunch of new pretties had just arrived, fresh pickings from the Plains Nation and he'd really wanted to try them out tonight… He shook his head….'No… there's no time to do it properly now, thanks to General fucking Matheson…'
He frowned, petulant; Miles was getting more and more demanding lately, coming down all heavy on him with new rules, new taxes, telling him what he should and shouldn't do with his girls – and his heroin….
'Do you think it's those O'Hallorans again, Boss?'
Drexel pouted…'Interfering Irish bastards…' he strode across to the railing…'The Republic needs me, Miles needs me…' he drained his glass, 'and why should the O'Hallorans care anyway?' he made his fingers into a pretend gun, aiming and shooting at the Irishman's place, 'they don't even like heroin…' he shrugged… 'Weird…'
Jose stepped forward a little…'Billy said one of the new girls is a real firecracker, Boss. She almost killed two of his men trying to run off back to her tribe'
'Did she?' Drexel turned back to Jose…'is she pretty?'
The man grinned 'pretty as a peach, Boss, dark hair, nice tits, full of spit, Billy had to tie her up to keep her from trying it again…'
Drexel poured himself another glass, 'She sounds like the perfect first course for our glorious leaders… go tell the Doc not to dose her up yet will you…?'
Jose nodded…'right away, Boss' he scurried off…
As the little man left, Drexel smiled, a couple of weeks on Doc's special diet and the little spitfire would be sweet as a honey pie, but in the meantime, Matheson and Monroe liked a little spark in their girls; they also insisted on them being un-medicated and willing… He frowned; the girl would be walking straight but he might have to have a little chat with the chit about the willing bit...
It was lucky that the two Generals also enjoyed sharing their girls, he shrugged and turned for the door, so they could protect each other from the little hellion, and if she did somehow manage to rid the world of one or both of them while trying to escape, well, it wouldn't be his fault would it…
…..
Duncan watched as two of the men took the last of the six other Plains Nation girls kicking and screaming into the next room… then returned her a few minutes later, stumbling, dazed, her eyes staring into nothing, just like the others before her, sitting like a little stone just where she was put. They were all from her clan and she was trying to work out how to get them out with her, when she escaped…
They hadn't tried to take Duncan herself though, not yet anyway… They'd left her on the floor where she'd fallen when they brought her in; her hands and feet still tied, the ropes tight, harsh on her skin. She'd given up trying to get comfortable, but that didn't mean she'd given up trying. Sex was one thing - she was far from new at that, although she'd much prefer to make her own choices… But there was no fucking way she was going to let them turn her into a drugged up zombie without making them pay for it…
There was a knock on the other door and one of the men went over, opening it a crack and talking quietly to someone on the other side, then he closed it, glancing over at her, his eyes speculative…
She wondered if this was it, maybe they were going to kill her now... she really didn't know why they hadn't done it already; especially after she tried to kill the second man. Maybe girls were getting scarce around here – or were more closely guarded, which would explain why they were raiding as far afield as the Plains Nation…
Then the door opened again and a tall, slim guy walked in, dressed like he was going to a fancy wedding, in a suit that looked almost new… But when she saw his crazy eyes and the way the other men treated him she knew this must be him, Drexel…
The drug lord came walking towards her; those strange eyes flat and empty; insane. She'd seen men with eyes like that before, when they'd tipped over the edge of human and become something else, something worse - and even though she tried not to let it, fear made her cold, made her shiver…
He got down on one knee so he could see her face…'Hello' he studied her for a moment, like she was a new species of moth or something, and his head tipped a little to one side, then the other…'I thought you'd be bigger' he reached forward and tucked a stray strand of long dark hair back behind her ear 'what's your name?'
Duncan had to stop herself from flinching away although he was close enough to see the truth in her eyes… 'Duncan, Duncan Page…'
He smiled, 'good girl…' he sat down near her, crossing his legs and resting his chin on one hand, 'listen, Duncan Page… You're still alive because I've decided to give you a chance to pay me back for what you did to my men' He looked her up and down, 'you'll need a bath though, and different clothes,' he shrugged…'and then, if you're nice to a couple of friends of mine, I'll let you live a bit longer…'
Duncan blinked, her dad always said that if it sounded too good to be true it probably was, but she'd take any chance she could get; she wanted to live… There was one thing though 'Don't give me any poppy juice, please…?'
He frowned… 'Why not? Don't you like it?'
'I'm allergic'
His eyebrows went up… 'Really?' he seemed intrigued? Or bemused… it was hard to say…
She nodded, 'yeah, I come out in hives, all over'
The interest turned to disgust, 'Ew…'
She didn't push that line any further; she had the feeling that this man teetered on the edge of the sanity cliff every minute of the day and she didn't want to push him over… 'I'm sorry, I can't help it…'
He shrugged…'It's your bad…'
Duncan tried to look meek, cooperative… 'So, if I do what you tell me, if I…play nice… you won't drug me up and you'll let me live?'
He shrugged again…'Yes, yes, no and yes - for now anyway; no promises…' he smiled then – and it wasn't a nice smile, 'but don't get any ideas about trying to leave' he wove his hands in a rough circle in the air…'there are guards absolutely everywhere…'
She nodded…'I'll be good…' it was like she was like talking to a petulant child…
He looked pleased, 'I think I like you' he licked his lips, and stretched a hand out, touching the tip of his index finger to the tip of her nose…'I'll come visit you first afterwards, before all the other girls…' his finger moved down to her lips...
Duncan sat very still, trying very, very hard not to let him see that he made her feel like throwing up …
He got up again, looking down at her 'You go get ready now, make yourself clean and pretty' he smiled again, 'President Monroe and General Matheson are coming to visit and I want you to make them very welcome for me tonight…' His eyes ran over her, pausing on her breasts, her butt, making her skin crawl… 'I want you to make them feel at home…' then his gaze returned to hers…
Duncan felt a chill ripple up her spine… there was nothing sane, or reasonable or even human in those flat, grey eyes…
'And if you can't manage to do that, well, I won't like you anymore and probably no one else will like you and you'll be no use to me at all then, will you…?' he smiled again and turned for the door… 'Bye now…'
She stared after him; her fists clenching, breathing hard… at that moment, she wanted to kill Drexel more than she wanted anything else in the world - except her freedom. She took a deep, deep breath. First she would do whatever she had to do to stay alive and get away, and then, then she'd work out how to rid the world of Drexel…
…
The room was big, open and luxurious, and she would have been very tempted to try climbing through the little window above the amazing pump toilet if the guard hadn't shown her the view holes in every wall on the way and told her that she would be watched to make sure she behaved…
A couple of barely dressed women brought in bucket after bucket of steaming water, pouring it into the big, claw foot bath in the middle of the room. Neither of the women met her eyes, their hazy, vacant, stares skating over her without settling anywhere… They moved slowly, hips swaying with each step as they walked in and out of the room. Once the bath was half full, the dark haired one waited while she undressed then took her clothes; leaving a dress in exchange – no underpants or bra - and a pair of red, high-heeled shoes almost exactly her size. The blond one left a hairbrush, some beetroot juice for her lips and some pressed charcoal for around her eyes. She knew that because the woman had used some of it, showing her what to do…
Once they left she washed quickly and thoroughly, using most of the cake of sweet scented soap she found on a shelf, then drying herself with the surprisingly soft towels. She picked up the dress… It was a sleeveless tube of slinky, crimson lace over a short stretchy black slip, and it was so short she had to choose between almost showing her nipples or a hint of shadowy cleft between her legs.
When she put it on and looked at herself in the mirror standing against the wall she saw a stranger; a beautiful, glimmering girl with tip tilted wide, dark eyes, dark hair, and long, slim legs… The red and black dress made her look exotic and strange, completely unlike her usual tomboy self and she didn't think her father – or brothers – would recognise her like this; shit, she hardly recognised herself… She felt like one of the goats the clan dressed in fancy ribbons and sparkles and paraded in front of the people at harvest time, before they slaughtered it… she felt… sacrificial. Duncan took a deep breath in; she was no sacrifice – she was a survivor – she was going to survive… She leaned towards the mirror and carefully applied some of the charcoal, smudging it at the outside corners of her eyes as the woman had shown her…
She'd heard of Matheson and Monroe, of course… who hadn't? And she'd also heard stories about the two of them and women – especially Sebastian Monroe. There were always stories about Monroe's women, and she was intrigued; hell she might even enjoy herself tonight.
She refused to think of Drexel and what might happen afterwards…
She carefully dabbed some of the beetroot juice to her lips with the little paper stick provided… In this world people used the strengths they had – and she knew that for women, especially young women, their looks and what was between their legs were their greatest assets – unless they could fight, or doctor, teach, or make potions of course… She'd grown up knowing what men wanted, watching what other women did to survive and thrive, doing some of it herself. She knew what she had to do…
She smoothed the dress down over her hips, brushed her hair out and put the shoes on…practicing walking around a little on the tiled floor. Then she looked around the room for the view hole, having a quick daydream about poking the watcher's eye out… Instead, she waved at whoever it was who was watching her and waited.
She'd make Matheson and Monroe happy, and show Drexel that he didn't need to drug her, and then… then she'd work out a way to get out of this fleapit and back to her clan…
….
After a few minutes, the door opened and a little, old guy stood there… He looked her up and down and grinned… 'I'm Jose…' he licked his lips…'You cleaned up real well, girlie…'
She somehow stopped herself from stomping on him; instead she made herself smile, 'I'm ready'
Jose didn't speak again, taking her quickly along a corridor then down some back stairs… He kept sneaking looks behind him though, checking out her legs and trying to see up her dress. How he kept his balance when he kept perving on her she had no idea but the idea of giving him a little push became harder to resist each time he did it. Luckily for him they got to the bottom before she ran out of resistance and she followed him through an archway and along a corridor to a large set of double doors. There were two Militia guards standing outside, holding rifles, pistols and swords on their hips…
The guards stared at her as she came towards them…
She hated the way their eyes drifted down to her breasts, then further, hovering where the hem of her dress had crept up, almost letting them see her crotch. But she kept walking, curving her lips into a smile and concentrating on staying upright. Her legs were trembling and her back ached with the effort of keeping her balance in the unaccustomed high shoes...
She decided not to even try to fix her dress; let them look, fuck em… Looking did them no good and her no harm, so she held her head up high and strode towards the doors… 'Hello boys…' she stopped almost in touching distance, almost…'I think the Generals are expecting me?'
The guard on her right leaned towards the door handle, his nose almost touching her tits… He was quite good looking really and in other circumstances, maybe… But now, she had to bite her lip to keep from saying something she'd almost certainly regret…
He opened the door, his eyes catching hers as he stepped back into position…'Keep some for me, darlin..' he whispered as his mouth went past her ear…
She winked at him, no harm in keeping on his good side although to be frank, she'd rather roll in horse manure... Jose beckoned her in and she walked down a couple of steps into a huge room, carefully keeping her balance, trying to walk as though she knew what she was doing, conscious that someone would be watching her, maybe even Drexel himself? So she kept smiling, looking around the room, her belly filling up with big winged butterflies… Where were they, where were Matheson and Monroe?
She could see glimpses of a wide, columned balcony to her left through the floor length windows that ran the length of the room. White gauze curtains fluttered and billowed out in the evening breeze coming in through the open windows and a couple of sets of French doors stood open leading out onto the balcony. The scent of flowers from the garden wafted past her through the windows, tickling her nose…
She kept walking, her heels tapping on the wooden floor... There was a huge, four poster bed at the far end of the room on a sort of raised platform, with more white gauze draped over the frame and almost hiding the pillow mounded bed. A couple of big comfy looking white sofas were grouped around a white rug in the middle of the room and a huge chandelier with what looked like a hundred candles blazing hung low, sending a gentle, flickering light over everything…
Duncan had never been in a room like this… she hadn't even dreamt that such a place existed and she had to concentrate really, really hard not to let her jaw just drop open...
She headed towards the nearest set of French doors. The two Generals had to be out on the balcony…
As she stepped outside, the wind suddenly caught her hair, whipping it up into a dark tumble above her head and over her face; she reached up with one hand to catch it, caught one of her heels on the doorjamb and started to fall, totally unable to see or save herself…
Suddenly, there were arms around her, hard, solid…one under her thighs, the other behind her back, and she looked up through her hair at a pair of startlingly blue eyes in a face that she knew would figure in her dreams for a long, long time…
'Careful beautiful…' Sebastian Monroe smiled down at her…'you could break an ankle in those heels…'
'I think you can put her down now, Bass' the other voice came from behind her, laconic, amused…
She found herself placed gently back on her feet, although a strong arm stayed around her until she was standing straight.
She realised that she was staring up into his eyes like a love struck idiot… 'Hi, I mean, thank you, General… I'm Duncan? Drexel sent me to…to…' she tapered off, not sure how to finish, or how to start… She finally managed to look away from him and saw General Matheson, standing a few feet away, a glass of whisky in his hand and a grin on his face.
'Don't worry about it, I'm Duncan' he came a bit closer… 'Bass has that affect on all the girls…' he shrugged, 'it's the eyes I think…' he took a sip of whiskey…
She swallowed, clearing her throat, 'The eyes?' Then she found herself gazing into deep brown eyes that were sort of sad, a bit melancholy, a little drunk? And she remembered that she was supposed to make General Matheson happy too, but looking at him, it was going to take more than her to do that... Still all Drexel meant of course was that she was to fuck them and do whatever they wanted… And he would be watching to make sure she did…
She took a deep breath, time to try… 'And you're General Matheson?'
He nodded…'that's me, but you can call me Miles'
'Miles…' she tried it out, then turned back to General Monroe…
'My name's Bass…' General Monroe was just standing there, looking at her; and he wasn't smiling, in fact he was looking sort of angry…
Duncan was suddenly nervous, had she done something wrong? Or not done something? Her hands clenched at her sides and her mouth went dry…
Bass glanced over at Miles then back to her, his face set, unsmiling, 'Have you been here long Duncan? At Drexel's?'
She shook her head, trying not to look around to see if anyone was watching… 'I, we… just got here today…' she chewed her lip, worried that they might send her away 'I'm happy to be here, though, with the two of you…'
'But you haven't done… this… before?' the blue eyes were somehow turning cold, hard, scary…
Duncan shrugged, fear started to give her butterflies again; she needed to make this work, she had to make them want her, or Drexel would… but she really didn't want to think about that…'Not exactly…' She stepped closer…'But I'm good, really, you'll like me, I know you will…' she ran her hand up over his firm, muscular chest to his shoulder, in the heels she could reach, it felt a little strange to be so much taller…
He looked down at her for a long moment, his face unreadable… then he put his arms round her, his body big and so strong, his flesh warm where he touched her, his lips close to her ear…'Is Drexel watching? Is that why you're afraid?' his voice was a harsh whisper…
She leaned back and looked up at him, the answer in her eyes, she couldn't help it… she nodded… She felt him take a huge breath in then let it out slowly… Then the blue eyes softened as he looked at her, and she lost herself in them all over again...
She felt Miles come closer, 'Bass?'
'Yeah?' he turned towards the other man, his voice hard, angry but tightly controlled...
'What do you want to do?'
Bass turned her towards the door, 'I want another drink, Miles, and I want to sit down and get to know Duncan a little better…'
He smiled down at her and she suddenly thought that maybe things would be all right? That he could make them be all right?
Then she caught herself, stupid girl… She couldn't rely on him or anyone else… Why on earth would he help her? He wasn't family, wasn't clan… She was on her own and she had the other six girls to look after as well – if she could, they'd already been given poppy juice, if she was too long they wouldn't want to leave.
She needed to carry on with the plan; do whatever she had to do to stay alive, then get away from this place, get back to her clan.
….
They all sat on one of the couches, Duncan between the two men, and Bass poured her a drink.
She sipped; the whisky went down her throat in a smooth rush; not like the firewater her father brewed up… 'This is nice' she lifted her glass, examining the pale tan liquid inside, the candlelight making little golden highlights in it… She crossed her legs, her dress riding up, the flesh of her legs gleaming pale and smooth, the shadows dark where they crossed, a little arrow of shadow leading under the hem of her dress up to the hint of curls just showing there…
She felt their eyes on her; enjoying it… after all, they were both very attractive men. In fact if she'd met them anywhere else she'd have tried her best to get one or both of them to notice her… especially Bass, most especially Bass. It was easy to believe the stories she'd heard about him now, he seemed to really like women, not just use them… Miles she wasn't as sure about, there was something about him, something distant…
She stroked her hand up and down her thigh, then again, the second time sending her thumb under the edge of the red lace, stroking it down between the fleshy lips of her pussy… and when she brought it out, her own fragrance was there, in the air… heavier than flowers…
Miles shifted in his seat…
Bass cleared his throat, then leaned forward, 'so where are you from, Duncan?'
She sat back, 'The Plains Nation, my father's warlord of our clan'
'That's interesting…' he glanced over her head at Miles who lifted an eyebrow 'I've heard that the Clans are pretty protective of their own'
She nodded…'my father and brothers will be looking for us'
'Us?'
'The raiders took seven of us; we were all at a naming ceremony? They left the older women and the children and took us, brought us here'
Miles reached forward for the bottle of whisky, 'How long were you on the road?'
'Eight days, I think, although we were in a wagon, it'd be faster riding' Duncan wondered where this was going, she looked back at Bass, he was smiling, although the smile didn't reach his eyes…
'And your father's the warlord?' of a war clan?'
She nodded…
Bass took a sip from his glass…'Does Drexel know that?'
She shook her head, 'No, none of them asked us who we were' she was starting to see what he was doing, and shit, she was getting to like Sebastian Monroe more and more…
I wonder if Drexel knows the trouble he'll be in when your father and the rest of your clan tracks you up here?' Bass sat back and stretched his arm out along the back of the seat behind her… he chuckled, 'and by my reckoning that can't be more than a day or so, and hey, the first thing I'd do if I was an angry father is torch those pretty poppy fields…'
Miles grinned…'Maybe we could offer to help Drex out, Bass? In return for a discount on our next shipment of penicillin of course…' he shrugged…'I mean, if we could take all the girls and return them to the clan unharmed, then Duncan's father just might decide to go on home without burning this place to the ground' he shrugged again…'maybe…'
There was a sudden commotion at the door, a babble of loud voices outside; then the double doors burst open…
Drexel walked towards them, his mouth working, chest heaving…
Bass nodded ok at his two guards, who were at the door, their faces angry, rifles ready…
Drexel stopped a little way away from the couch, he coughed…'I'm sorry but there seems to have been a mistake, gentlemen…' he smiled at Duncan, a sickly smile, the grey, lifeless eyes anxious, afraid…
She wanted to wipe the smile off his face…
He moved a little closer, 'this young lady and her friends were obviously brought here by mistake…I wonder if I could ask your help to get them back to their families?' he swallowed…'I will of course compensate the Republic for your trouble…'
Miles drained his glass and stood up…'Happy to help, Drex, how about you and I go and work out the details? We can get the other young ladies ready to travel at the same time' he turned to Bass; 'What do you say we move out in….' he winked down at Duncan 'One hour?'
She nodded, her eyes full…things had happened so fast she wasn't sure this was real… 'Yes, that would be great, thank you, thank you so much.' She turned to Bass...he was looking cool, composed, calm, when she felt like dancing…
Miles shepherded Drexel away mid attempted apology and explanation – taking him outside and shutting the doors behind him, leaving Duncan and Bass on their own.
Duncan drained her glass, then uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, putting the glass on the table. Then as she sat back, she ran a hand along the hard, masculine thigh beside her, almost, almost running, her fingers over the obvious and growing bulge between his legs, stretching her arms up so that her dress rode even higher, exposing the start of the dark triangle of curls between her legs, spreading her legs out just a little, letting him have a glimpse of the glistening pink folds between…
Bass turned to her, one hand stroking down the side of her face, stroking gently down her neck to her throat, a finger coming to rest where the valley between her breasts began…'Do you really want this…? Us?' He looked in her eyes…'because you don't have to do anything you don't want to...'
Duncan looked at him and the thought of it was…exciting, exhilarating; it made her belly tighten and her clit pulse… She was about to fuck the President of the Republic… She laughed, and if anyone was still watching it was the last eyeful they'd get…the bed had curtains…
She met those incredible blue eyes again and nodded… I want this, I want you…'
He could see the truth in her eyes…
…
Bass stood up, reaching down to help her up and as she stood she leaned into him, her head on his shoulder, breathing in the spicy scent of male sweat, leather, oiled metal...
He let her fingers slip through his as he reached up to snuff the candles, moving methodically under the chandelier. And as each candle went out, the light changed… bright moonlight filtering in through the white gauze curtains, the red disappearing from Duncan's dress, turning it grey black, stark shadows turning the couches, the table into angular landscapes within the larger, hazy landscape of the room…
He put the rod down and took off his jacket, throwing it over the couch back, then bent down to unbuckle his boots.
Duncan watched him, admiring the muscled arms and chest, outlined under the thin fabric of his shirt, the curve of shoulder into neck; the classic profile. He really was one of the most beautiful men she'd ever seen, 'I owe you my life, Bass'
He stood up, slipped out of his boots off and sighed, 'I don't like Drexel, and he's lucky he's not under arrest for what he did to you and your friends, but at the moment the Republic needs him' he looked at her, his eyes very serious 'I'll keep a closer eye on him from now on though, Duncan, I promise you that…'
'That's good, but it's not what I meant.' She slipped out of the high shoes, the change in altitude disconcerting for a moment; then padded over to him on bare feet, the rug soft on her toes and the soles of her feet. Standing in front of him she looked up, into his face, 'Bass, in my Clan, if someone saves your life, you pledge your life to theirs.' She put a hand on his chest, over his heart 'Sebastian Monroe, my life is yours, you are now part of my Clan, my family, until I die or I repay my debt'
He gazed down at her, ' Duncan, it wasn't your fault, you don't need to do that'
She leaned closer, her other arm sliding over the heavy muscles of his chest and up to rest on his shoulder…'yes I do' she smiled up at him, 'and you never know, maybe one day I'll be able to return the favour'
He hesitated; his hands gentle on her waist… 'Duncan, I'm not sure I…'
A dark eyebrow lifted and her grin widened…'Don't worry,' she laughed up at him 'it doesn't mean we're married or anything, it's just that you can call on me for help if you need to, that's all…'
Bass let out a long breath, his face relaxing, then he pulled her towards him…'you had me going there for a minute…'
She reached up, standing on tip toe so she could touch his lips with hers…'I like you, Bass, but its ok, don't worry,' she pressed closer, 'and now we've got less than an hour to try out that bed… so can we stop talking' she kissed him again…'and start fucking?'
He laughed and swung her up into his arms, her laughter ringing out around the room. He carried her up to the bed, sweeping them through the white billowing, gauzy curtains and laying her down on the soft coverlet.
Duncan looked around in surprise and wonder, everything was clean and so white; the quilt, the curtains, the pillows and the sheets… The sheets were cool and slippery and her body slid over them, the fabric feeling magical against her skin, she'd never felt anything like them… 'what are these sheets made of, Bass?'
He was at the side of the bed, already out of his shirt and almost out of his pants, he grinned 'I'm pretty sure this room is called Nights in white satin'
'White satin?' she wriggled out of her dress, the fabric sliding over the satin with little shushing sounds, the red and black lacy dress slipping over the edge of the bed to fall on the floor, 'I love it' Then Bass was suddenly next to her, his nude, warm, muscled body heavy and very welcome next to hers…
Duncan turned into his arms, and they slid together, bodies moving easily over the soft, smooth satin, the cool fabric delicious against her skin. She rolled over, like a seal, twisting her head around so he could reach her mouth, her ass against his heavy, hard cock, his hands holding her flush against him, roving over belly and breast, pinching nipples between thumbs and fingers, sweeping lower to find her mound, the dark curls framing lush lips, the rosy inner lips, and nub of clit, glistening with her juices.
His body rose up behind her, hands lifting her onto her knees, her ass high, the cello curves of shoulder sweeping to waist and gently widening out to firm, slim hips, smooth thighs, strong, delicate calves…His hands caressed the oval globes of her ass, his thumbs stroking over the sensitive skin between, stroking closer to her centre…
She laughed, lifting herself up higher on her hands, feeling him hard behind her, above her, surrounding her, the mattress sinking slightly underneath them, the satin so smooth, cool in the warm night air…
She balanced herself on one hand, reaching underneath with the other, sliding over belly to pussy and clit, her fingers searching, circling, finding the rhythm, the speed she needed…
She felt his heavy cock head, sliding along the valley between her legs, Bass pushing in a little, then pulling out, pushing in and out, in and out, each time sheathing himself further inside her, each time moving, gliding over flesh that purred and sang and purred again, until he was sliding deep inside with each long thrust, his hands holding her hips, his fingers gripping her flesh, adding their sensation to the whole…
They moved together, the breeze blowing the curtains over them, stroking, silky fabric fingers until the whole world was fingers, hands, cock thrusting, bodies moving, moaning gasps and panting breaths fluttering inside a white airy space that was pulsing faster and faster until the white light and shadow turned all colours then white again…
Afterwards, Duncan lay in Bass' arms, her hand moving over the smooth whiteness of the satin, she didn't know if she'd see him again, but her heart knew what she owed Sebastian Monroe. Worth more than life, she owed him her freedom.
….
AN: Hi and thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this… I always wondered what happened between Bass and Duncan, and of course, she did end up saving him…