by Zoe Blake
Don’t worry, my love. I’ve got you.
I had heard those words from him before… but where? When?
Fuck, I wished my mind wasn’t so fuzzy right now.
Peeking over the high collar of his coat, I noticed he was carrying me out to an old-fashioned horse-drawn carriage. Perhaps that explained his oddly formal attire and top hat? He must have been attending some elaborate masquerade ball and left to rescue me.
But how did he know where I was?
I didn’t even know.
A man in livery complete with breeches, stockings, and buckled shoes jumped down from the back of the carriage and raced to open the door. His face wore an expression of professional disinterest as if it were an everyday occurrence that his boss emerged from a hospital with a wet, naked woman in his arms just after attending a costume ball.
When he ducked his head to enter the carriage, his mouth came close to my own; for just the barest of moments, I breathed his air. The startling intimacy rocked me even in my confused, agitated state.
The carriage swayed as he entered. Richard immediately sat down and started to settle me on his lap.
Pushing away slightly, I said, “I can sit over on the other bench.” After saying such, I expected him to let me go. He didn’t. In fact, his arms just closed about me more tightly. Not having the energy to fight him on the issue and frankly not wanting to give up the comfort of his warmth and strength, I relented and relaxed back into his arms.
After a crack of a whip, the carriage lurched forward and I immediately regretted my decision to stay on his lap. The swaying motion of the carriage rocked my hips back and forth suggestively. I couldn’t be sure through the thick wool of the coat, which was still wrapped tightly around me, but I was almost certain I could feel the ridge of his cock press against the back of my thighs.
My throat sore from screaming, I had to clear it several times before I trusted myself to speak. I hated how shaky and weak my voice sounded. “I have no idea what happened last night. I’m so sorry to have dragged you away from your party.”
“I wasn’t at a party, just a quiet evening at my club.”
I wanted to ask about the carriage and top hat but decided against it.
“My flat is in Tottenham. I can grab a cab as soon as we pass one. My flat mate, Jane, is probably worried sick about me.”
“You’re not getting in a hackney carriage in this state of undress,” he commanded, as if he had a right to dictate orders to me.
“I know I need to go to the police but I just want to get some of my own clothes on first,” I reasoned as I adjusted the lapels of his coat over my chest. “I’m sorry for bothering but could you just drop me off at home? I can give you the address.”
“Your home is with me.” His words had an edge to them as if he were expecting yet rejecting any argument from me.
“I can’t go home with you. I need to get my clothes and talk with Jane and go to the police. I must have been drugged or something. And those people… those people need to be arrested for what they did to me!” My voice gained in strength as I sat up on his lap.
Richard gently placed one long wet curl behind my ear. “Calm yourself, Elizabeth. You know what the doctors have said about agitating yourself by giving in to these fantasies.”
“Doctors? What doctors? What are you talking about? Those people were obviously criminals. Did I tell you I recognized one of them? She’s a homeless woman who begs just outside the Barbican Theater every day.”
He just shook his head and gave me a sympathetic look. “We’ll be home soon. I’m sorry you were put in such a place but I only just learned of your parents’ death. I had no idea it had affected you so.”
I stilled. “My parents? What do you know of my parents’ death?”
He was rubbing my back in wide soothing circles and I struggled not to sink back into the comfort of his arms. Instead, I tried twisting away, turning my shoulders to face him more directly. “What do you know about my parents?” I repeated, my alarm and confusion growing.
“It was a tragic accident while they were on their way to your country estate. A hunter’s gunshot spooked the horses into a run. An axle broke, sending the carriage careening off the road into a ditch. Your dear father, a great friend of mine, was killed instantly.”
I started to shake my head. “No. No. This doesn’t make sense. That’s not what happened at all. My parents had never been to London. They’d never been out of the States. They weren’t killed in a carriage accident! It was car accident; a drunk driver hit them in Pennsylvania!”
Richard stroked my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Your mind is overheated from grief. I am told you went mad at your mother’s bedside as you worked tirelessly to nurse her back to health. Any delicately raised woman would become hysterical under those horrible circumstances without a man nearby to take everything in hand.”
Before he could stop me, I bolted to the other side of the carriage. “Nothing you say is making any sense. I want to go home!” I demanded, crossing my arms across my middle to try and stop the fierce trembling that was now racking my body.
“Elizabeth, you are my ward and under my protection. As you are now in my custody, I determine where you reside and I have decided the only appropriate place for you is at my estate in Wolverhampton.”
“Lizzie! My name is Lizzie Larkin. Stop calling me Elizabeth. And I’m not your ward, or whatever you called it. I’m a grown woman!”
“Your name is Lady Elizabeth Adelaide Fitzhubert Childes Larkin. Your family’s estate borders one of my own in Staffordshire. Upon your parents’ demise, you became my legal ward, subject to my complete authority.”
“This is insane! I want to get out of this thing! Now!” Diving for the brass handle of the carriage, it easily swung open. I caught a glimpse of a rough stone gravel road racing by right before I prepared to jump.
A strong arm wrapped around my waist and hauled me back inside. The air rushed out of my body as my stomach made contact with his hard thigh. To my complete humiliation, he had dragged me face down over his lap. I felt a cold rush of air as he flipped the opera coat to one side, exposing my bare ass. Goosebumps raised on my flesh, as his possible intentions dawned on me.
“What are you doing?” I screeched. “Let me go!”
“Giving you your first lesson in obedience as my ward,” he ground out.
His flat palm came down on my ass with brutal accuracy. My mouth dropped open. For the barest of moments, I was too shocked to even feel pain but then it came in a hot burning wave. Despite my cries, he didn’t stop. He spanked my other cheek, then returned to the first. It was a strange sensation to have my skin feel both chilled and hot at the same time. He was relentless. Hot pulses of prickling pain radiating from my upper thighs to my lower back. I was certain I wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week.
Just when I thought the punishment was over, I was thrown onto the soft leather bench on the other side of the carriage. Richard’s knee came down on the side of my hip while his other knee pressed in between my legs. The slim protection of his opera coat was gone as it lay twisted beneath me.
My eyes widened in horror as Richard shrugged out of his jacket and loosened the cravat at his throat. His hands then went down to the fastening of his trousers.
“I’ll scream again!” I warned.
“None of my servants would dare come to your aid,” he growled.
His cock sprang free and I couldn’t suppress a whimper. It was a massive, pulsing thing that intimidated me as much as the man who held it within his grasp.
Richard reached for my exposed breast and pinched my erect nipple. Biting my lip, I tried not to cry out.
“When I dropped you off at that asylum, the doctors warned me that often hysteria in young women was brought on by sinful thoughts and deeds.”
“You were the one who put me in that terrifying place?”
I couldn’t deal with what was happening now as well as process w
“It was for your own good but now I see you need a stronger hand. A man’s hand.”
I started to rise up but his heavy palm between my breasts kept me down.
His other hand reached between my legs. Without any warning, he forced his two thick middle fingers deep inside me. Helplessly, I tried to clamp my knees closed but his strong legs prevented me.
“No longer a maid. Just as the doctors suspected. It seems I have taken an interest in your well-being just in time to save your soul from damnation.”
“You’re crazy,” I rasped as I tried to shimmy my hips backwards to dislodge his fingers.
Slowly, he pulsed his fingers in and out of my tight pussy. As he forced my body to accept the intrusion, I could feel my inner muscles stretch and soften to his touch. Humiliatingly, the dry scrape of his fingers was soon eased by my own slick warmth. As he thrust inside of me, his thumb teased my clit.
My back arched. I could feel the painful press of the leather seat against my bruised and still punishment-heated ass.
Memories of his touch in my dressing room crashed over me. His rough kiss. The feel of his hand gripping my hair. The way he handled my body like he owned it. How badly I secretly both wanted and feared him. My kinky imaginings of what it would be like to have sex with him.
His palm moved to cup my breast. He squeezed the flesh roughly as he increased the speed and pressure of his fingers. Leaning over me, he thrust them harder and harder. I could feel the pressure build as my stomach clenched and my inner thighs tightened around his knee.
“Oh, god!” I breathed as my hips rose to meet his bruising hand. “Yes!” My own fingers dug into the cool silk lining of his coat, fisting the material as I gave in to the wave of pleasure he had just forced onto me.
When he tilted my head all the way back, I could feel the harsh scrape of his day-old shave against the delicate skin on my neck as he sucked and laved at the rapid pulse beating just beneath the surface. He moved lower to pull my nipple between his teeth. As he wet it with his tongue, he bit down hard, the very moment he pushed a third finger deep inside me.
A fierce orgasm ripped through my body as the pain heightened the pleasure.
My breathing came in harsh gasps as I hung limply half off the bench, unable to come to terms with what had happened between us. It was so fiercely raw and untamed. For the barest of moments, I let the rhythmic sway of the carriage soothe me as I forgot about him and my dangerous situation.
My eyes flew open the moment I felt his cock press against my now open and wet entrance.
“No! Wait!”
Ignoring my plea, he thrust in deep.
I screamed as my body instinctively tried to curl up, protecting itself.
His fingers did nothing to prepare me for the weight and girth of his cock. Oh, god, it hurt. It was too big. It felt like he had driven a pole deep inside me.
“Stop! Stop! It hurts,” I cried even as my body began to arouse and respond to his rough handling.
Placing a hand on either side of my head, painfully trapping my hair beneath his palms, his voice was rough with angry need. “You belong to me, Elizabeth. Accept your fate.”
Never in my life had I ever felt so completely dominated.
The weight of his body.
His scent.
The overwhelming feel of his cock as it speared into me.
I tried to block it all out… to fight… but it was useless. Soon my body took over, coaxed by the powerful rhythm of his thrusts. Grasping me under my thighs, he forced my legs open wider as he pushed my knees up higher.
His cock actually slipped in deeper than I ever thought possible. My stomach began to cramp as the delicate skin of my cunt began to feel swollen and bruised from the unrelenting pounding. His hipbones pushed into the muscles of my inner thighs with each thrust. All I could hear was his discordant deep rasps in my ear.
“I can’t! Please! It’s too deep!”
“You are a harlot at heart. This is your true madness and I’m your only redemption,” he growled. His deep-timbred voice was as hard and unrelenting as his thrusting cock.
Reaching between our shifting bodies, he pinched my already hypersensitive clit. For the second time that evening, I came, spurred on by his cruel and painful touch.
He pulled his long length free, and I watched in horrified fascination as he reared his strong body over mine. Fisting his cock, he pumped his hand several times before streams of thick white cum hit my stomach and breasts.
Immediately I looked about for something to wipe it off, to clean away the sin. As I reached for his linen cravat lying discarded and wrinkled on the carriage floor, he grabbed my wrist.
“No. I want my seed to stay on your skin. This is the last time I’ll come without knowing the pleasure of you swallowing it or taking it deep in your cunt or ass.”
Leaning up on my elbows, ignoring my naked and humiliated state, my voice shook with rage. “You’re crazy if you think I’ll ever let you fuck me again!”
His fingers dug into each of my wrists as he pulled me upright to meet his thunderous expression.
“Don’t you ever use such vulgar language again. Your very existence depends on me. I have the power to make you disappear so deeply into that asylum your fantastical dreams will become your only reality. Do you understand me?”
His dark angry eyes became a blur as tears clouded my vision. I could only weakly nod.
Releasing my wrists, he moved to the other side of the carriage as he righted his trousers.
“Cover yourself. We will be arriving at the estate soon and the servants will no doubt be there to greet us. There will already be talk enough without you appearing like the harlot we both know you are.”
For the reminder of the ride, I sat huddled in a corner of the dark carriage trying to make sense of all that was going on. All I knew was that I had obviously become the obsession of a seriously dangerous man and I had no idea how to save myself.
Chapter 7
Lizzie
The carriage slowed and turned up some sort of circular drive. For some time, I could see nothing through the small, cloudy windows but dark forest. The trees had an ominous feel as they hovered over the driveway, cutting off all view of the stars and moon. Eventually a massive three-story mansion came into view.
Many large estates in England had a rather hodgepodge appearance of mixed architecture with odd blends of medieval turrets and more modern wings.
Not Richard’s home.
It looked to be as rigidly in command as the man himself.
Instead of having separate buildings, towers, or a u-shape that wrapped around a courtyard, it was one large rectangular building. In the center were four imposing Roman-looking columns that stretched up to the top of the second story. It was surrounded by massive oak trees that looked as old as the earth itself.
Despite it being evening, albeit probably late—although I had no way of knowing—the building was mostly dark. No lights shone in the windows. The only signs of life were two gas lamps on either side of a pair of large wooden entrance doors.
Split between the two doors in the center seemed to be a family crest. It looked to be a shield with two crossed broadaxes and a dead dove at the base. On the top was the family name Winterbourne and along the edge was the Latin inscription, Sis Vis Pacem Para Bellum. I had no idea what it said or meant but I did know from some random lesson in school that the Latin word for war was bellum. Judging by the dead dove, I was pretty sure which side Richard’s family fell on the subject.
After getting a stern look from Richard, I hung back till he had opened the door and then turned to me. It was obvious he wanted me to allow him to carry me. I hesitated. He leaned into the carriage’s interior.
“I won’t hesitate to discipline you with my cane right here and now.”
Discipline me? With his cane?
My ass still burned from the spanking I had gotten from just his hand. I didn’t want to risk the agony of his cane let alone having all these people witness my humiliation.
Not willing to fight that battle, I allowed him to scoop me into his arms as I held the opera coat tightly closed around my body. I could still feel his slightly wet cum drying on my stomach.
As we alighted from the carriage, the doors opened and a slew of costumed people came pouring out.
It was like watching an episode of Downton Abbey. All the characters were there. The housekeeper, the butler, the parlor maids and footman.
And then I looked closer.
What. The. Fuck?
Wearing a black damask Victorian day dress with mutton sleeves with a bronze-beaded bodice was our stage manager, Sally Jennings. Her small frame was almost unrecognizable in the voluminous dress but it was definitely her. She even had a ring of keys on her belt.
“Sally? What are you doing here?”
Giving Richard a confused look, she lowered her head and curtsied to him first and then me. “Good evening, your grace. M’lady. I hope you had a pleasant journey. Your rooms are prepared.”
“Sally!”
At that moment, a man stepped forward and cleared his throat. Bowing his head, he said in a very serious, slow tone, “Good evening, your grace.”
It was Jack, my director.
“Jack! I’m so glad to see you. Where is Jane? Is she worried sick? Have you seen Mike? I have to know what the hell happened at the party last night?” I rambled in my excitement to see a friendly face.
Jack looked flustered and embarrassed as he exchanged a look with Sally.
“Please excuse Lady Larkin. She is overly tired from our journey,” came Richard’s deceptively calm response as he squeezed my thighs and shoulders as a warning to keep quiet. “Lady Elizabeth, you know perfectly well this is Mrs. Jennings, my housekeeper and Hutley, my butler. You’ve known them since you were a child.”
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