Gilded Cage: A Dark Romance

by Zoe Blake

  “You can’t think to carry me all the way to Trafalgar Square? It’s too far and I’m too heavy.”

  Mr. Darcy scoffed. “You don’t weigh more than a bird. That’s what you are, my little bird.”

  It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying. His arm was wrapped intimately under my thighs. The tips of his fingers were close to touching the side of my left breast. I couldn’t really feel his touch through the heavy wool coat but just the idea of it was enough to make me want more.

  Without even questioning it, I rested my head on his shoulder. If felt natural and right that I would depend on him for protection and help. As I watched the last of the flower beds of St. James’s Park disappear in the distance, I finally asked, “What’s your actual name, Mr. Darcy?”

  Chapter 4

  Richard

  I could feel the slightest scruff from my five o’clock shadow against the soft skin of her forehead as I tilted my head down to answer her.

  “Richard.”

  “Richard,” she repeated as if tasting each syllable on her tongue. I loved the sound of my name on her lips.

  I had to pry my gaze away and pay attention to the traffic up ahead. Still, I couldn’t help thinking about how close I was to losing her. The vision of that hulking black cab pivoting as its tires locked and screeched toward her small frame as she stood frozen in fear will forever be burned into my mind.

  As we passed the large lions, I briefly considered sitting down on those steps and just cradling her in my arms. Damn the rain. It wasn’t possible, not yet anyway.

  I needed to play this just right or all my plans would be for nothing.

  Giving her delicate frame one last squeeze, I gently put her back on her feet as we neared the stone steps leading up to the museum.

  Keeping my hand on her back, we made our way up the stairs and under the portcullis.

  Shrugging my coat off, she handed it back to me.

  “Thank you for everything.” She bit that plump bottom lip of hers and looked up at me with those stunning green eyes.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” I teased. “I mean, I did just save your life and all.”

  Her cheeks blushed a pretty pink. “Of course! My treat!”

  She really was adorable. I hung back to allow her to pass through the entrance first. It gave me time to once more admire the gorgeous sway of her hips and those slender thighs tucked into her tall boots. It really was a wonder she should be blessed with such curves on such a tiny frame. When I was holding her in my arms, she weighed next to nothing.

  I would have to be careful. There was no doubt she would injure easily and while I couldn’t wait to see my mark on her fair skin, it wasn’t in my plans to give her a broken arm or leg.

  That would ruin all our fun.

  I let her approach the ticket counter as I handed my coat to the porter who came rushing over the minute I was recognized.

  “It’s free to enter the main galleries but it will be thirty-two quid if you want to see the special exhibits… oh, sir, sorry, I didn’t see you standing there. Are you two together?” asked the museum employee as she gestured between Elizabeth and me.

  I nodded as Elizabeth sent me a puzzled look over her shoulder.

  “Yes, we’re together but I’m paying for our tickets,” she remarked as she dug around in her purse, presumably for her wallet.

  “There’s no charge, of course,” purred the museum employee as she slowly stood to face me. “I highly recommend the Titian exhibit, sir. It’s called Love, Desire, Death and it just opened.” Her voice had taken on a deep throaty quality as her hands grazed her hips, pulling her uniform shirt down slightly, forcing it to tighten across her ample breasts.

  I knew all about the Titian exhibit. I should, they were mostly my paintings.

  “Thank you. We shall.”

  Placing a hand between Elizabeth’s shoulder blades, I led her away.

  Looking down, I could see her small face upturned to me, a piqued moue to her lips.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to assume you don’t want to look at the paintings.”

  “You’re seriously not going to explain what just happened there?”

  I shrugged. “I’m very fond of this museum. I come here a lot. Most of the employees know me.”

  As an extremely wealthy contributor, but she doesn’t need to know that just yet.

  I turned her into the first gallery on the left. Leading her over to the exhibit sign, I read out loud, “A sensuous interpretation of classical myths of love, temptation,” looking down to meet her gaze, I finished, “and punishment.”

  Even in the dim light of the museum, I could see her emerald eyes shimmer with flecks of gold as I emphasized the illicit word. Her beautiful mouth opened on a slight gasp. Running the tips of my fingers down the center of her back, I lingered long enough to feel the tremor run over her body before stepping away.

  Knowing she would follow, I approached the first painting, Diana and Actaeon.

  Elizabeth read the plaque. “Isn’t Actaeon the one she turned into a stag?”

  Stepping behind her, I brushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing the delicate seashell curve of her ear. “Yes, but look at his face,” I whispered.

  We both gazed at the intense color and bold brushwork of the painting. Taking in the sensual curves of Diana as she stared boldly at Actaeon, who had interrupted her bath.

  Allowing my breath to caress her bare neck, I murmured, “Just one look at her perfect form is worth death to him.”

  Just as she started to lean back into me, I walked to the next picture, suppressing a smile at her slightly peevish pout over my abrupt departure.

  The next painting was Danae and the Shower of Gold.

  Taking Elizabeth’s hand, I ran my thumb over the sensitive skin of her inner wrist as I asked, “What do you see?”

  “I see the goddess Danae lying back against large silk pillows.”

  “What else?” My hand went to her hip.

  Elizabeth licked her lips. The soft pink now glistened, beckoning me.

  “I… I… don’t…” she stammered as my hand slid down to the top of her thigh. The tips of my fingers tracing the hem of her sweater dress, skimming her warm skin.

  Leaning in, I murmured, “Do you see how her legs are open? The position of her hand between them?”

  Her breath came in jagged gasps. Almost unwittingly, she slid her feet wider. Her boots squeaked slightly on the polished floor. In answer, I let my fingers drift slightly toward the soft, exposed skin of her inner thigh as I leaned in, allowing my chest to brush her back.

  “She wants Jupiter’s possession, the feel of him penetrating her body.”

  “Oh, god,” breathed Elizabeth. Her small hands fisted the fabric of her dress, forcing it higher up on her thighs.

  “What is your favorite part about this painting, my little bird?”

  Her head shook slightly. “I… I don’t know… I can’t… think.”

  Taking a lock of her hair between my fingers, I caressed the long length before giving it a sharp tug. I watched as tears formed in her eyes from the unexpected sting of pain, turning their green-gold depths a shining evergreen. “Mine is how her mouth is open,” I growled suggestively against her neck.

  Elizabeth turned into my arms but I stepped back and away a few paces, ignoring the confused look that darkened her features.

  I passed several more paintings before coming to my personal favorite, and one from my own collection, The Rape of Europa.

  Placing my hands on Elizabeth’s hips, I positioned her directly in front of me. Shifting my hips forward, I pressed the edge of my hard cock against her lower back, wanting her to feel my arousal.

  She groaned as her head fell back onto my chest.

  Pressing my fingers painfully into her flesh, till I felt her small bones, I leaned down till my chin rested on her shoulder, inhaling the lemon verbena scent of her hair.

 
“This one is my favorite. Europa helplessly sprawled on the back of the beast. Her clothes torn. Her knees spread.”

  I shifted, pressing my cock more firmly against her back, letting the soft rise of her ass cradle it.

  Elizabeth’s hand reached around to grip my thigh.

  “I love the way her head is turned away in shame. As if she is embarrassed by her own desires.”

  This time I could feel the soft vibrations of her moan.

  “When I stare at this painting, I like to imagine what happens next. After the beast abducts her and carries her off to his lair. The moment he transforms into a god and forces her to accept him between her thighs. A bull riding her into submission.”

  “Please,” Elizabeth whimpered helplessly as her fingers dug into my flesh. Her head tilted back. There was nothing but dark entreaty in the beautiful depths of her eyes.

  My head lowered as I watched her lips open.

  I felt the soft warmth of her breath against my own lips as I breathed in the taste of her.

  I knew in this moment, she didn’t give a damn that I was a stranger to her. Didn’t care that we were in the middle of a public museum surrounded by people.

  She was in my power. If I dared, I could lift her into my arms, push her against the wall, and fuck her senseless, as the bull from Titian’s painting looked on with approval.

  Maybe I would bend her over one of those leather benches. Relish in the appreciative looks of the other museum patrons as I exposed the pale skin of her ass. I would push aside the thong I already knew she was wearing, pull out my cock, and thrust in deep. Her mouth would open with a cry, one that betrayed both pain and lust. With each thrust, I would press in deeper and deeper, feeling her body clamp around my flesh. At the moment of completion I would grab a fistful of her hair and force her onto her knees, wanting to see that cute pink tongue of hers coated with my cum as I forced her to swallow every drop.

  There was nothing stopping me.

  Not a single member of museum security would dare.

  Elizabeth would not even realize we were being watched until it was all over. Then I would watch as the crimson tint of humiliation crept over her cheeks. Her eyes would once more glisten with tears as she licked the final vestiges of my seed off her lips and shakily got to her feet, pulling her dress down to cover her exposed pussy.

  Then she would know, without any doubt, that I was the one in control now.

  I would see in her eyes the beautiful knowledge that if I commanded it, she would get down on her knees all over again.

  Taking her head in my hands, I flicked the tip of my tongue across her bottom lip.

  Just the smallest of tastes, that was all I would allow myself… for now.

  Using every ounce of control I possessed, I pulled back slightly just as she leaned in.

  “Would you join me for dinner?” I asked.

  I led her through the rest of the special exhibit with neither of us really looking at the paintings. She barely said a word to me. I could practically see her adorable mind playing over our almost kiss. As we neared the exit, I caught Harris’ gaze.

  Pointing to the ladies’ room, I offered, “Would you like to freshen up while I make us reservations for dinner?”

  Elizabeth nodded numbly. Watching as she walked stiffly away, I didn’t even bother to look at Harris as he approached, but kept my eyes trained on the ladies’ room door, as I said, “Have you started to make the arrangements?”

  “Yes, sir. I figured when you went to save her from that cab that your… er… plans were now accelerated.”

  I nodded. Pulling a pen and small leather-bound notebook from my inside jacket pocket, I scratched out a quick message. Handing it to Harris, I ordered, “Take this to Johnson at Cartier’s. Tell him I want both the necklace and the earrings and I’ll only pay that amount.”

  Harris looked down at the paper and let out a soft whistle before stashing it inside his coat pocket. “The other one, then?”

  “Yes, give her the jewels and tell her the ten million pounds will be wired into her account per our previous arrangement.”

  “…and if she asks to see you?”

  The ladies’ room door opened. I waited but it was an older woman, not my girl.

  “Tell her that is impossible.”

  As far as I was concerned, I was dead to any other women.

  I had found the one. Elizabeth was it for me. I was certain this time.

  The ladies’ room door opened again. This time Elizabeth emerged. The small spots of mud on her boots and upper thighs from her near miss with the cab had been removed. She had also reapplied her lipstick. It shone a bright cherry pink against her pale skin, matching the high color on her cheeks. She gave me a shy smile.

  “Think she suspects anything?” asked Harris.

  “Not a thing,” I responded as I stepped away from him to meet Elizabeth halfway.

  Chapter 5

  Lizzie

  What. The. Fuck!

  Pressing my cold hands to my hot cheeks, I leaned my elbows on the bathroom counter and tried to breathe. This was crazy! I didn’t even know this man and I practically begged him to fuck me in middle of a crowded museum. What the hell was wrong with me?

  I shook my hands out in front of me as I paced a few times in front of the mirror. I needed to get a grip.

  Still, holy hell!

  He was just so… so… overwhelming and sexy as fuck.

  The way he kept leaning in as if he was going to kiss me. The way his fingers brushed my thigh. The feel of his breath on my neck.

  And oh, my god… his hard cock against my back.

  If it wasn’t for that, I would be freaking out wondering if this guy liked me or not. It was so confusing. Was this how guys felt when they say girls send them mixed signals?

  Maybe this was on me. He was obviously a very proper businessman of some sort and he did say he was very well known at the museum.

  Although it didn’t bother me in the least, in fact I found it really sexy, it was obvious he was older than me. I’m guessing he was at least late thirties to my twenty-two. Perhaps he didn’t want the museum staff to see him making a move on a younger woman?

  Oh, my god! What if he was married?

  No. No. I’d looked at his hand. Definitely no ring.

  He wasn’t married so it must have been the whole propriety thing. The British were very proper. Maybe they felt differently about public displays of affection than Americans? Although to that point, I didn’t think it would be okay, even in America, to suddenly push a guy against the wall and reach down to pull out his cock so you could start sucking it.

  What was wrong with me?

  I didn’t even know this guy’s last name. I barely met him over an hour ago and I was already fantasizing about sucking his cock? I didn’t even like giving blowjobs!

  There was just something about him that made me want to please him. No, worse… made me want him to order me to please him. Once more I had the same vision of his large hands unbuckling his belt. Although this time instead of being about to get a spanking, I was waiting submissively at his feet on my knees, with my mouth open, ready to taste his cock.

  Giving myself a mental shake, I grabbed my purse and dumped the contents out onto the counter. Sifting through the random items—wallet, keys, tissues, pen, perfume, my copy of Pride and Prejudice—I searched for my lipstick. Unscrewing the cap, I leaned over to reapply. Staring into the mirror, all I could see was Richard’s hard-set features as he towered over me.

  The look in his dark blue eyes. It was so intense and focused. It felt as if I was the only woman in the world. The only woman who mattered to him. It was crazy, of course. We had only just met. Yet, there was something there. I had this feeling he already knew me. Knew everything about me.

  I found the idea of such an intense connection with this dark stranger both unsettling and exciting.

  Running my finger under my bottom lip to fix a smudge, I studied my reflection.
Pushing some items aside, I found my compact. Opening it up, I powdered my nose as I schooled myself for the evening ahead.

  It’s just dinner.

  Dinner.

  Just dinner.

  No fucking.

  Do not fuck him.

  No… well, maybe.

  No!

  He’ll think you’re a slut. A slut who fucks on the first date.

  Who cares? Did you feel the size of that cock? my traitorous body asked.

  No. Just dinner.

  Maybe some kissing.

  Yes, kissing.

  Kissing is fine.

  Kissing doesn’t mean I want to tear his clothes off with my teeth and ride him like a bucking bronco. Fluffing my hair, I ran my fingers through to work out some of the tangles.

  Damn, I needed to hurry. I had already taken too long and I didn’t want him to think I’m doing that in here.

  Leaning over, I grabbed a few paper towels and ran them under the faucet. Taking the tip of the scrunched-up bunch, I scrubbed any bits of mud off my skin and boots.

  Giving my hair one last flip, I shoved all the items back into my Brahmin purse, saving the perfume for last. I gave my neck a quick spritz, turning as there was a disgruntled yowl. Seeing the older woman scowling behind me, my shoulders rounded as I scrunched up my nose. “So sorry!” I exclaimed.

  She left the ladies’ room with a muttered, “American,” under her breath.

  Giving my appearance a final once-over, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  It’s just dinner.

  What’s the worst that could happen?

  Chapter 6

  Lizzie

  The weather had cleared while we were inside the museum. The early evening sky now shown a bright amber and purple as we walked to the restaurant. Richard had one arm protectively around my shoulders, the other carried his coat slung over his forearm.

  I was desperately trying to focus on his attempts at small talk and not on our almost kiss at the museum.

  “Are you excited about starting the fashion program at uni?”