Forbidden

New Orleans 1812

Chapter One

Jacques Du Bourg awoke from his restless sleep and shifted uncomfortably in the large four-post bed. Immediately, his thoughts drifted to his beloved Celeste. He never slept soundly when she was not by his side. He was hopelessly in love with the beautiful slave woman who captured his heart.

Unfortunately, their love was forbidden. Claude, Jacques' father forbade the relationship to continue, although in vain. His father demanded that Jacques follow in his footsteps, go off to war, taking over his sugar plantation, and eventually marrying, to a Caucasian woman, nonetheless.

With a lazy groan, he rose and sat on the side of the bed, planting his feet firmly on the cool, wooden floor. He imagined life without Celeste as he starred into the abyss of the pitch black room. His life would be just that. Pitch black, nothing else would matter. He shuddered at the thought. Closing his eyes, he briefly recalled the heated conversation between he and his father.

* * * *

"It is not permissible Jacques. I forbid you to carry on with Celeste as you do. What will others think? I suggest you end it, now!"

"Father, I mean you no disrespect. I will not end my relationship with Celeste. I love her."

"You know not what you say son." Claude placed a hand on his son's shoulder, sympathizing with he lad. Jacques was stubborn, a trait inherited from his mother, Alexandrine who passed a year ago.

"Simply use her Jacques to ease your sexual desires until you find a woman you are meant to be with. Even then, you can still continue to sate your lust with Celeste." Claude's words were cold and harsh.

"No father. Celeste means much more than a simple night's passion."

"That is my worry boy. Most masters visit their slave women in the night, in slave's quarters. But you—You must go to the extreme, bringing her into your bed, and our home! Surely the other slaves speak of your trysts with her. Not to mention the fact, she is five years your senior. Not a good mix, I assure you. This will end in nothing but tragedy!"

"Father, twenty-seven is not beyond my reach. She is a beautiful woman. Why do you not give her a chance? Why can you not see, I love her?"

Jacques saw the tortured, concerned look within his father's eyes. "My, son. Such a young, foolish boy you are. Claude cupped his son's face between his large hands. Look around you. This is America. Would you proudly parade around with her attached to your arm in the streets of New Orleans?" Jacques hung his head, knowing he and Celeste would never be accepted, not in this land. In France, they'd have a chance, most likely there would be very few couples like them. Looks would follow them everywhere, but marriage would be legal.

"If you care for her as you claim to, you will not carry this any further. There are some who would not hesitate to kill her on sight if you flaunted your feelings for her in the public eye."

"Then, I shall return to our homeland with her. America is cruel compared to our beloved France. You know that father." Claude stroked his gray beard, admiring his son's persistence.

"I fear for you. I truly do. Many do not tolerate the mixing of the races. I, myself would never go as far as the other slave-owners. I treat my slave well. I don't believe in the brutality many owners subject their slaves to. I can assure you, harm may come to you both Jacques."

"Such stupidity. Why is it perfectly well for a married man to bed a slave woman? Why sneak off into the night, to slave quarters to satisfy lustful yearnings? I find it cowardly! Why should a man, such as myself hide his feelings towards the woman he loves?"

"How dare you talk to me in such a manner? Are you insinuating that I'm a coward? I was once in such a predicament as yourself, a year after your mother and I settled this land!"

"I know father, mother often told me how it pained her, knowing you ventured off to the slave quarters in the night. How can that be right?"

"I was young then, my son. I loved your mother, but could not resist the temptation of beautiful dark skin. What was I to do, dismiss Alexandrine? She was my wife."

"Did you love the slave girl you were with?" Jacques peered deep into his father's eyes, forcing Claude to shift his weight on his other foot. Eventually, the man turned, slowly walking towards the window.

"I loved Adelaide," Claude hung his head in shame. I could not help myself, I loved both women. Adelaide often accompanied me to the market, keeping her distance behind me. Pretty soon, our relationship was discovered. Somehow, she was lynched."

"Why have you waited until now to share this with me?" Couldn't you have protected Adelaide?"

"Someone, perhaps another slave murdered her in the night. Do you wish the same fate to befall you and Celeste?"

"You mean to tell me, you never knew who murdered her?"

"Alas my son, no. I was devastated. Since then, never have I fallen into the arms of another slave woman. It is forbidden and unnecessary. The heartache it brought about could have been avoided."

"Things will be different for Celeste and I."

"I see there is no use in speaking of this matter further. You have been warned Jacques. I leave it up to you." Claude turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving Jacques to his thoughts.

* * * *

Jacques slowly rose to his feet, stretching taut muscles. It was well past the time for him to meet Celeste at the slave quarters. He would then accompany his lady to his house, and eventually, his bed. His cock stiffened as he imagined taking his time and unwrapping her like a long awaited present. The need to feel his skin against hers was overwhelming. .

Wasting no time, Jacques strolled out his room and down the small corridor and out the back door of the house. The blasted floor boards creaked with his weight, making him cringe. God knows, he didn't need to hear father's arguments tonight, however, he didn't want an ear pressed against his door, either. Once outside, warm summer air greeted him and his heart raced in anticipation of seeing Celeste again.

Ahead in the distance, she stood. A smile slowly crossed her face and her eyes lit up. Jacques heart thudded wildly against his chest as he came closer to his beloved.

"Jacques!" Celeste flung herself against his hardened chest. He towered over the petite slave girl by inches. Her head rested comfortably against the center of his chest. Her small arms entwined around his waist, sending electrifying currents throughout his body. He could never love another, he thought.

Slowly, he bent down, tasting her full lips. A moan escaped his lips as he inhaled her natural body scent. Their tongues dueled in a sacred dance, fueling the fire for what was to come.

He picked her up in his arms, and headed towards the manor until Celeste protested.

"Take me in the field." Celeste enjoyed making love outdoors. They had on many occasion made love next to the river, or in the woods, hidden from the view of others.

"No." Jacques voice was firm, and husky. "I wish to have you in my bed tonight my love." He grew impatient with each exciting moment. The warmth of his bed called to him. Celeste pouted, in hopes to change the man's mind, but he stood firm.

"What makes you think you can coerce me into giving in to you?" Jacques planted a kiss on the luscious lips that would soon offer him pleasure in the most erotic of ways. She melted him on the inside, using her power of persuasion, but his will was strong, he refused to allow her to sway him. Of course, she was just toying with him. If she really was hell bent on bending his will, she would, he was certain.

"Oh Jacques." She nuzzled her head against his chest, and his pulse soared at the crackling energies their bodies summoned when locked in a tight embrace.

"My sweetest Celeste, I wish to awaken in a warm bed to you in la petit matin, The early morning." Jacques quickened his pace as his engorged cock sought freedom from his trousers. Freedom, planted firmly within Celeste's core.

Arriving to his room, and once inside, Jacques gently sat Celeste on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees, he slowly hoisted her skirts up, reveling in the smoothness of her skin. Her legs were strong and well defined, from all the years of working in her former masters' fields. She became a house servant once Claude purchased her from another slave trader.

Slowly, Jacques ran his hands lovingly up Celeste's thighs, eliciting soft moans from her lips. He loved it when she repeatedly called his name as her arousal heightened. Her musky feminine scent accosted his nostrils and he groaned. Further, his hands journeyed to the spot he so craved of his beloved.

"Du matin au soir From morning till night, I need you in my arms." Jacques breathed against Celeste's silken thigh, claiming her fragrant arousal with his tongue. To his delight, she arched her back, threading her delicate hands through dark sandy blond hair.

"Ah, you are so sweet, Celeste." Without further ado, Jacques' hands disappeared beneath the firm, plump rear of his love, pulling her wet mound against his face. His tongue parted Celeste's wet folds and her moans increased. He groaned as swift strokes of his tongue caused her body to shiver with desire.

Brazingly, Celeste parted her legs further, enjoying he exquisite pleasure Jacques succumbed her to. He loved it! His Celeste was an insatiable one, and not afraid to explore further regions of pleasure. That in combination with her warm, loving nature, Jacques knew long ago he had found his love interest.

"Oh, my Dear God, Take me now Jacques!" She placed a loving hand on his cheek, forcing him away from her pussy. His heart lurched at the pleading brown eyes. A smile unfolded upon his face as he slowly rose, untying the laces of his trousers. Celeste was in the process of shedding her clothing when Jacques assisted her. Anticipation danced inside him as he waited to see the luscious curves of her petite frame.

Gently, he pushed Celeste back onto the cool bedcovers, his body covering hers. They groaned in unison at the exquisite touch of one another's hot naked flesh. Jacques ground his hard cock against the wetness of her soft flesh, all while gathering firm round breasts within his hands.

* * * *

She lovingly stroked Jacques' hair as she watched him guide her chocolate nipple into his mouth. Her lips parted with pleasure as she watched his tongue stroke the hardened tip. Gently, he grasped it between his teeth, tugging at it ever so lightly. Affectionately, he offered the same treatment to the other breast.

"Ah, never stop!" She thrust her hips against his rock hard cock while his strong hands lovingly caressed her full, luscious breasts. Her breath abandoned her as he shifted his weight to the side of her body, allowing a hand to lower between her thighs. Lightly stroking the fleshy bud, he intensified her pleasure ten fold. Slowly, his finger slipped inside her. As she moaned, Jacques brought his mouth down, hard upon hers. They kissed, as if they would never see one another again. Deep and passionate, a fire that was ignited long ago burned, threatening to reach the surface.

She watched as her lover eased his finger out of her swollen folds and slipped it into his mouth. Passionately, he suckled his juice laden finger, bringing new heights to her pleasure.

"Now Jacques!" Celeste breathlessly pleaded him to take that last step that would once again join them as one. She wanted to mold with him, escaping to the highest regions of their passion. She yearned for the experience of not knowing where he began and she ended, for their love was infinite.

* * * *

Jacques rose above her, gently settling between her thighs. His cock seized he opportunity to politely slip inside Celeste, bringing forth tortured moans from both parties.

Chapter Two

She awoke abruptly, as though someone frightened her out of her dream. The dream was still fresh in her memory. She loathed her dreams, and regretted her gift of premonition.

Her body ached, but in a way that left her craving Jacques' attention. She rose on her elbows, staring off into the dimly lit room. It was possible he was attending to some business with Claude. Such a liar she was to herself. No, they must be arguing again, about her sleeping in the house, instead of the slave quarters. His father often plotted, seeking ways to drive a wedge between them.

Sighing, she turned on her side, lying in a fetal position. The dreams were growing much stronger, and she feared for her safety, as well as Jacques'.

Fear clung heavily to her fragile eggshell mind, as she tried her best to interpret the impeding force coming their way.

The power of clairvoyance allowed her to dwelve into the past, and forsee the future. At the age of thirty, her power of premonition escalated. Sometimes she loved her gift, other times she thought it to be dreaded curse, thrust upon her by the cruelty of the Universe, and the one who sought her demise. Yes, it was no mystery to her. Someone, or something sought to claim her, and destroy Jacques in the process.

In these nightmares, she often saw dreadful images of tortured slaves, crying out for their souls to the one who devoured their pain without remorse.

Restless, and annoyed, Celeste turned on her side, in an effort to ease her wandering mind. She wanted sleep, but would gratefully pass on the dreams. She knew soon, her life would be turned upside down. Fear and hatred would wreak havoc over the plantation, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

"Jacques, where are you?" Celeste shivered as loneliness claimed her, making her yearn for the warm embrace of the one who would lay down his life for her without a doubt.

As she lay, awaiting her first and only love, Celeste contemplated existing in a world where slaves were not slaves, but equals to their white counterparts. She often pondered if things would ever change.

Failing to confess her reservations to Jacques, out of fear of hurting his feelings, there had been moments she thought it best for them to go their separate ways. After all, that would mean him granting her freedom.

"Celeste." The door to the bedroom opened and closed. Her pulse quickened, and her heart fluttered. His manly scent filled her nostrils, peaking her libido.

"Where have you been?" she raised up on her elbows, and smiled as Jacques sat the lantern down on the Mahogany stand, next to the bed.

"I've been talking with father." Jacques sounded agitated as he slipped beneath the bedcovers, scooping her up in his strong arms. "He's impossible." Her lover planted a firm, loving kiss on her lips.

"Jacques, do not lie to me," Celeste murmured in a low voice. "You were arguing, over me." Disappointment claimed her.

"I told you, not to worry. We are behind closed doors, and what goes on in my bedroom, is my business? Is that anyway on clear?" Jacques slipped a finger beneath her chin.

"Yes Jacques."

Sighing in relief, a smile curved the edge of her lips as she nuzzled against her lover's chest. She'd live a good life, better than many slaves, existing outside the DuBourg plantation. Claude wasn't a prejudiced man, and treated his slaves better than any other master in the vicinity.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. Unfortunately, Claude frowned upon the coupling, insisting it would bring turmoil to the entire household. Unfortunately, she knew, that was true. Like a waterfall, her tears fell at the thought of her walking behind Jacques in public, instead of beside him, or on his arm, like a regular couple. Like a white couple.

Was she wrong to desire these things with Jacques? If she gave into her desires, her visions of being a normal couple, they both would be killed on site, for sure. Of course, she'd be lynched, and Jacques, well, his safety would be jeopardized as well, but she'd suffer the brunt of things.

Many times she thought she should settle, and find another slave who would possibly love her for the rest of her life. But, who the hell was she kidding. She had no eyes for another.

She sighed. How many times did she have to endure white women, potential wives, throwing themselves at Jacques, before her very eyes. She'd bitten her lip, until it bled, many times, fighting hard to cover her feelings up.

Conveniently, she placed her arm beneath her face, so her white cotton nightgown captured her falling tears. Jacques planted a kiss on top of her tightly coiled hair.

"What is wrong, Celeste?" She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of speaking her feelings. He'd always noticed, he knew everything about her, that was the bond they shared.

"Nothing, all is well," Celeste lied. "I'm tired Jacques, and want to sleep. She rolled over, hoping he'd bought her lie.

"Are you sure?" She felt his large hand rub her back, and the waterfall of tears began again.

"I'm sure!" She summoned every ounce of strength to make her voice sound "normal." "I'm tired, is all."

Patting her back, Jacques sighed. "So be it." She cringed. Jacques knew she was lying, she felt it in her bones, but he was one never to push the issue, and for that, she loved him.

Relieved, Celeste pulled the covers up to her neck, wanting to be alone with her own thoughts. She continued thinking of all the negativities, threatening, like a black plague to tear them apart.

On top of all the other antagonists, Celeste was a witch. Another cross she and Jacques must carry, lest she be hung, if anyone ever discovered her secret. Jacques was a witness to her powers, and of course, kept her secret.

The only thing he didn't believe in was the secret of the Louisiana Bayou, where beings lurked. There were many nights they'd argue after he caught her chanting, and laying down her potions on the outskirts of the plantation. Even with her power, there was nothing she could do to convince Jacques a certain evil existed.