Gilded Cage: A Dark Romance

by Zoe Blake

  With each move across the board, I brought my pawn closer and closer to the edge; soon the trap would fall.

  Lifting up the box, I placed it in the inside pocket of my dinner jacket before pressing the small button on the side of my desk that would notify my assistant I was leaving and would expect the driver to be ready with my car out front.

  At precisely 7:57 p.m., my car pulled up outside her building. Telling the driver I would alight on my own, I pulled the sides of my suit coat closed and buttoned it as I shut the car door. Sparing a glance down both sides of Fetter Lane, I easily picked out the men I had hired to watch over her and the building. The apartment building was safe enough but I wouldn’t be fully at ease until I removed her from it to one of my estates. There were too many uncontrollable variables here in the city. I needed her where I knew she would be surrounded by people loyal only to me.

  Where she would be under my complete control.

  Pinching the bridge of my nose as I willed my lengthening cock to subside, I took a deep breath and relaxed my features.

  Time to play the dashing Mr. Darcy for my Elizabeth.

  Although I didn’t doubt for a moment she would, I was nonetheless pleased to see her wearing the gown I sent. From this point forward, when she was in my presence, I wanted her wearing only clothes that I had provided for her. I preferred to know the soft fabrics caressing her skin were owned by me, as she soon would be.

  Seeing her standing there, looking every bit the nervous ingénue I knew her to be, taxed my restraint. I knew there would be nothing to stop me from tearing that expensive gown off her lithe body and fucking her right here and right now against the wall. Nothing to stop me, including her own pleas. Yet, in a perverse way, I knew the fact that I didn’t give in to that primal urge was more satisfying than the sex would be.

  Anyone could force a quick fuck on a woman. It took true skill to mold and shape her into your fantasy mate, to control her mind as well as her body, convincing her to ignore the warning bells and follow you down a shadowed path of immoral and ever deepening depraved acts.

  There is far more satisfaction in tempting an angel to follow you into hell than the fleeting pleasure to be had from merely pushing them out of heaven.

  “You look stunning.”

  Framed in the narrow doorway, Elizabeth was a vision of shimmering pale pink. The ruffles gave the gown an innocent, almost girlish appeal, which was belied by the shadow of cleavage and just a tantalizing hint of nipple that could be seen through the layers of sheer fabric.

  “Shall we?” I said, offering my arm.

  As she raised her hand to take it, I caught a glimpse of a small black clutch purse. Winking, I took the purse from her and set it on a small table just inside her flat door. “You won’t be needing that.” Before she could protest, I gently took the keys from her hand and locked the door, carefully pocketing them before once more offering my arm.

  “A lady should want for nothing when in the company of a true gentleman,” I murmured in her ear, catching the lemon verbena scent of her hair, liking how the soft pink gown brought out the gold highlights in her chestnut locks.

  I was close enough to hear the slight catch in her breath as her eyelids fluttered briefly. My sweet little bird was so easy to please… and manipulate.

  As Elizabeth slid over the leather seat of my black Rolls Royce Phantom, she exclaimed, “This car is amazing! I feel like I’ve stepped back in time.”

  After nodding to the driver to proceed, I turned my complete attention on her.

  “I’m glad you like it. I confess I’m a bit old-fashioned. I prefer vintage cars and antiques to anything modern.”

  Warming to the topic, Elizabeth turned in her seat to face me. Once more, I was struck by her beautiful, delicate features. I couldn’t wait to see them contorted with both pleasure and pain. Her pretty mouth open on a scream as I plowed into her from behind after ruthlessly whipping her with my belt.

  Soon.

  “Me, too! I’m absolutely in love with the Victorian era, everything about it from the dresses, to the balls, to the carriages. It’s one of the things I love about London. If you block out all the noise from the traffic and just focus on the buildings and parks you can almost imagine you are back in time.”

  Stroking her cheek, I asked her, “Would you like that? To one day be able to live like a Victorian with all the dresses and jewels and servants?”

  Elizabeth leaned back against the soft leather seat and gave me a wistful look. “If only. Perhaps one day I’ll get cast in play or movie so I could pretend.” Elizabeth played with the ruffles of her dress, nervously flattening them out over her thighs. “I haven’t told you, but one of the reasons why my focus is on costume design is because I also kind of want to be an actress.”

  I placed a calming hand over her fidgeting ones. “Why are you nervous?”

  She shrugged. Refusing to meet my gaze, she said, “I found out you’re an important duke and everything. I guess I’m just worried that you’ll think dating a fashion student wannabe actress beneath you.”

  I could barely hear her. The confession was whispered to her lap behind a curtain of gorgeously thick hair. Taking her hair in my hand, I pushed it back over her shoulder and placed a finger under her jaw, tilting her face toward me. “I want you to listen very carefully, little one.” Using the back of my knuckles I stroked her cheek, feeling the press of her high cheekbone. “I find you not only beautiful but completely charming.” Tapping the tip of her nose, I continued, “From the tip of your pert nose to those gorgeous eyes of yours.” I was pleased to see a pink blush bloom on her cheeks.

  “Really?” she asked, a wistful look in her bright eyes.

  Framing her face with my hands, I leaned in. “I don’t give a damn about my title, the age difference, or your future plans. You enthrall me, Elizabeth.” My lips caressed hers. “At this very moment, I would give up all my wealth for just…” I licked her full bottom lip, “a taste of these lips.”

  I swallowed her sigh as my mouth descended. Slipping my tongue inside, I felt the scrape of her teeth along the edge as I pressed my body closer, forcing her back onto the seat cushions. My hand drifted from her jaw, to skim the side of her breast before clasping her narrow waist as I deepened the kiss. She tasted of sweet peppermint and I wanted more.

  Her hands gripped my shoulders before spearing her fingers through my hair, gripping the short length tight. The hint of pain spurred me on. I let her feel the ridge of my cock as it pressed against her thigh. As I licked and nipped along the slim column of her neck, I could see her spare a glance for the driver under her lashes. I loved the fact that being observed seemed to turn her on more, just like at the restaurant last night.

  I would never share her with anyone but knowing someone was forced to look and never touch as I claimed her as my own, over and over again, did have a certain appeal.

  Plus, it played perfectly into my plans for her further education this evening.

  Releasing her lips, I placed a hand between her shoulder blades and eased her back into a sitting position. I was pleased to see her lips were a bee-stung dark pink from my kiss.

  Her eyes remained glassy and unfocused as the car pulled up in front of the Dorchester hotel. A uniformed porter ran to open our door.

  Placing a hand on her lower back, I guided her through the lobby to our destination.

  Elizabeth’s eyes lit up when she saw the opulence of the Alain Ducasse dining room. The Michelin-star restaurant was filled with the soft murmurings of guests, the clink of crystal, and the rich scents of fine French cuisine as we followed the tuxedoed maître d’ to our table.

  She looked up at me in confusion when he stopped before a large oval curtain of shimmering optical fibers located in the center of the dining room. Pushing the luminescent curtain aside, he gestured for us to step forward.

  “This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen.” She slowly walked around the enclosed space, circling the priva
te table as she ran her fingers over the curtain of dancing light. Taking our seats, I waited for the head waiter to pour us both a glass of Krug Rose Champagne in their signature Saint-Louis crystal flutes before turning to her.

  “To the beginning of what I hope will be a very special relationship.”

  Watching as she raised the glass to her still slightly swollen lips, I felt the truth in my toast. She was special, of that I was absolutely certain. In her, I had finally found the one.

  Reaching into my coat pocket, I pulled out the deep blue jewelry box and slid it across the tablecloth between us.

  Elizabeth bit her lip and didn’t reach for it. “Look. I really love the dress and I know I probably shouldn’t have accepted it; I didn’t have a way to reach you and didn’t want you to be offended if I didn’t wear it, but….”

  Lifting my glass to my lips, I took a sip of champagne to hide my smile.

  “…I don’t want you to think, I mean, even though I know now, I didn’t know before and I already liked you by then so it doesn’t really change anything for me and I don’t want to you think that it would or that I would in any way expect things like this and… and… well, whatever that is because I definitely wouldn’t and you’ve probably heard that before but I really do mean it; I’m not sure how I can prove it other than to not accept…”

  Cutting off her rather impressive rambling, I remarked, “Baby, are you trying to tell me you don’t care about my money?”

  Relieved, she nodded. Holding a hand up to her heart, she said, “Honestly, I had no idea who you were when you saved me from that cab. This is absolutely beautiful but you could have taken me for fish and chips at the corner pub and it would have been just as nice.”

  Lifting the lid on the signature royal blue Chaumet Paris box, I opened the sleeves on each side to reveal a pink gold, diamond, and sapphire brooch nestled within.

  Elizabeth’s pretty mouth opened. “Oh, my god, it’s beautiful.”

  Lifting the bird-shaped brooch out of the box, I leaned over to pin it to her dress, knowing in advance the pale rose gold would complement it.

  “Richard, you really shouldn’t have.”

  “It’s only the beginning of all the things I have planned for you.”

  Chapter 10

  Lizzie

  This must be what it feels like to be adored.

  Looking down, I could see the magnificent diamond sparkle from the pin. The bird had a long graceful neck and a gorgeous plume filled with blue sapphires. It was by far the most beautiful and expensive piece of jewelry I had ever been given.

  Everything about this was a fairytale and he was my Prince Charming. It was crazy to think he actually was royalty… or aristocracy… I wasn’t really sure how it worked. I was going to have to Google that later or better yet, maybe I could dig out some of my old romance novels and reread the Victorian ones where the dashing duke always rescued the poor governess.

  Looking over the table at Richard, I took in his strong profile. With his dark wavy hair that was just slightly longer on top and intense blue eyes, he really was quite the rakish romance hero, my very own Mr. Darcy.

  The servers arrived placing the first course in front of us. It was a stunning plate, a large Scottish langoustine wrapped in cucumber and topped with caviar, all sitting on a pool of creamy lemon sauce.

  Once again, Richard had ordered for the both of us and I was very pleased with his selection. He seemed to know just what I would like.

  As we cut into the delicate and sweet flesh of the langoustine, I finally got a chance to ask the question that had been burning in my mind. “How did you find out my flat number?”

  Sliding a bite off the edge of his fork with his teeth, Richard chewed carefully before responding. “It’s simple really. I sent a messenger with the dress and gave him extra money to bribe your doorman.”

  That made sense. I still didn’t remember giving him my street address the night before, but obviously I must have if he dropped me off at home. Let’s face it, I wasn’t exactly coherent after that amazing orgasm he had given me.

  The servers cleared away the first course and placed a second, equally fantastic dish in front of us both. Taking up my fork, I tried to poke a bit at the rectangular brown shape on the plate.

  “Have you never had foie gras?”

  “Duck liver?” I shook my head no.

  Placing a small piece on his fork, he swiped it through the juniper berry sauce and lifted it to my lips. “Open your mouth.”

  Keeping my gaze locked with his, I obeyed. To my surprise, the liver was buttery and smooth with just a hint of salt, which complemented the tang of the berry sauce.

  “Yum!”

  I returned to my own plate this time with more enthusiasm. Just as I lifted my fork, the plate slid out from beneath it. Looking up, I saw a smile teasing the corners of Richard’s mouth. “I find I like feeding my little bird.”

  Bite by bite I let him feed me the decadent dish as we stayed nestled in our cocoon of light, the soft sounds of the dining room close yet seemingly far away.

  The final course was fillet of turbot with leeks and grapefruit. Each dish was a little piece of art. What I especially loved was the portions were so delicate you could eat without feeling full or guilty for indulging in such rich French cuisine.

  The head waiter poured us each a glass of a Graham’s Vintage Port then discreetly left. As we waited for the final dessert course, Richard leaned over to grasp my hand.

  “Would you like to play another game?”

  Remembering the illicit details of his kinky game from last night, I clenched my thighs. Taking my panties off under a table when we were high above the dining room in our own private space with just the possibility that someone might see was daring and fun. Taking them off when I could hear bits and pieces of the dinner conversation taking place at the table just on the other side of a thin fiber optic curtain was a different matter entirely.

  Feeling the blush creep over my cheeks, I asked, “You’re not going to ask me to take off my panties, again are you?”

  “We’ve already played that game. Let’s raise the stakes with this new one.” His voice had taken on the dark seduction of smoke whispering over whiskey.

  Before I could respond, the waiter returned. He placed a platter of eight tiny meringue swans that looked to be floating on a bed of edible flowers on the table and quietly left.

  “Those are so cute!”

  He didn’t even look at the platter but rather kept his intense cobalt blue gaze on me. “The game has begun.”

  Transfixed, I couldn’t take my gaze off him as he lifted one of the glass votive candle holders off the table and held the flickering flame up.

  Strengthening his grip on my hand, he flipped my arm over onto the table, exposing the front of my wrist and forearm.

  Holding the candle over my arm, he leaned in close. The flame gave his features a shadowed, more sinister appearance. “Do you know why pain increases pleasure?”

  “Richard, please.” Pleading, I tried to pull my arm free. His grip remained firm.

  “Some believe it is because the pathways in the brain for both pleasure and pain overlap.”

  The hair on the back of my neck rose as I felt the heat radiating from the candle.

  “This isn’t funny, Richard.”

  “I’m not laughing, Elizabeth.”

  As he tilted the votive holder over my arm, I watched as the white candle wax, made clear from heat, pooled near the edge. Beads of sweat slipped between my breasts as my heart raced. Once more I tried to pull away.

  “The real secret why pain increases pleasure lies in the anticipation. You see, little one. Pleasure can be elusive but pain… pain never disappoints.” Richard rocked the glass holder between his fingers; each time the wax creeped closer to the edge. “Can you feel it? How all your senses are now alert? You can feel everything from the beating of your heart to each ragged breath escaping your lips.”

  A
single drop of wax fell onto my wrist.

  Stifling a cry, I tried to wrench my arm away. “I’ll scream.”

  “Go ahead.”

  His boldness stunned me. We were in the middle of a public restaurant. He was a public figure. Surely, he wasn’t so arrogant as to think a woman could scream help in his presence and nothing would happen?

  I bit my lip so hard, the sickening metallic tang of blood mixed with the dried fruit taste of the port on my tongue.

  “It’s intriguing how close our responses to both pleasure and pain can be. Heavy breathing. Moans. The tensing of the body. All the same.”

  This time he tilted the candle deeper, allowing a line of hot wax to splash down onto my wrist. I began to cry. The liquid burn of the wax stung the thin delicate skin. Desperately I wanted to scratch off the drying bits but didn’t dare. Pressing my free hand between my thighs, I begged, “I don’t like this game. It hurts.”

  “That’s the point.”

  He splashed more wax onto my wrist. Pink skin began to blossom beneath the wax creating a macabre design, an intricate web of pristine white and mottled red. The pain had taken on a sharp pitch, driven to higher levels by my fear.

  “You see, by experiencing pain first, you have cleared a direct path to pleasure in your mind. Your body is primed to experience it. Begging for it. It is no longer an elusive mist but rather a pulsing, throbbing reality.”

  Richard tilted the candle again. The hot wax poured over the wick, extinguishing the flame. A swirl of smoke rose between us along with the acrid scent of sulphur.

  A sign of the devil.

  Richard tossed the candle aside. His arm snaked out, grabbing me around the neck. My dress tore as I was forced to my knees before him. A submissive bowing before her dark lord.

  Reaching for his belt buckle, he growled, “Now comes the pleasure.”

  Despite the violence and pain, I actually found myself staring at his large hands as they methodically slipped the long leather strap through the metal buckle. My mouth went dry. I licked my lips, feeling my pulse rise even higher as I waited to see his cock. I had only felt it a few times as he pressed it against my hip or thigh. Now I wanted to see if the length and breadth of it matched my imagination.