by Zoe Blake
Standing near her, I stroked her hair as she leaned her head against my thigh. “Well, Doctor?”
“She will be fine. I imagine the scare was worse than the injury. They are all superficial punctures and scrapes that should heal in a few days. Hot bath and a pain reliever with a sleep aid and she’ll feel much better in the morning.”
“Thank you, Doctor. There is a security guard just outside the door. He’ll escort you out.”
Forcing myself to smile, I said teasingly, “Well, you heard the doctor. Hot bath. Sex. Bed.”
“That is not what he said.”
I shook my head. “You’re tired and overwrought. You weren’t listening carefully.”
Giving her a kiss on the top of her head, I sternly admonished her to stay put until I had fixed a bath.
A few minutes later I carried her into the bathroom. The air was thick with steam and the scent of eucalyptus. Carefully removing my robe from her shoulders, I had to keep my fists from clenching at the sight of her beautiful skin marred by a hundred tiny pricks. Because they had hidden the pins within the seams of the bodice, the small wounds actually formed a macabre pattern of delicate swirls and loops, almost like a tribal tattoo.
“Do they hurt?” I whispered as my hand hovered over the top curve of her right breast, wanting but worried about touching her.
Elizabeth grasped my hand and put it over her breast. “No. Like the doctor said, it was more the fear of what was happening. Once I wash the blood away, you won’t even see most of them.”
Once I wash the blood away… a phrase I never wanted to hear my baby utter ever again.
Holding her by the forearm, I helped her step into the circular marble tub, which was now filled with silky bubbles and hot water.
Looking over her shoulder, she said, “You’re joining me, right?”
Already loosening my tie, I winked and replied, “Try to stop me.”
After pulling my unbuttoned shirt off my shoulders, I paused and watched her worriedly. Waiting for the moment the soapy water hit her skin. Praying it didn’t sting. When she leaned back with a throaty moan of contentment, I released the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and finished getting undressed.
Heading over to the double sinks, I opened one of the mahogany drawers in between and pulled out a few toys just in case my girl needed a distraction.
Setting them on the edge of the tub, I stepped in and took my place behind her, stretching out my long legs on either side of her slim hips. Pushing her damp curls aside, I kissed the top of her shoulder, then her neck, then her ear before whispering, “If I start up the Jacuzzi jets, do you promise to be a naughty girl and let them tease your cute pussy?”
She rubbed her hips against my already hard cock as I watched her nipples pebble. “Yes,” she moaned. “Please, make me forget today.”
Her innocent words sent a stab of pain through my chest.
Never again.
Never again would I let someone get near my baby.
No matter what it took.
Wrapping my arms around her, I cupped her breasts, giving her nipples a light pinch.
“I’ll be gentle, my love.”
Elizabeth groaned as she reached one soapy arm behind her to hook it around my neck. The movement crushed her breast against my palm. “Richard, the last thing I want from you right now is to be gentle.”
Damn, I loved this woman!
Reaching to the right, I pressed the button that started the Jacuzzi jets. Hooking my feet under her ankles, I spread her legs wide and shifted my hips, knowing it would position her cunt right in front of one of the jets.
“Oh! Oh! Oh, my!” exclaimed Elizabeth as her hips shimmied against my cock.
“Lift up your ass,” I growled.
Placing her hands on either side of my hips, she lifted her bottom.
Fisting my cock, I gave it a few pumps before positioning myself at her pussy entrance.
“Press down. Impale yourself on my cock.”
Her hands shifted under the water as she slowly lowered herself onto my thick shaft.
We moaned in unison at the tight joining.
Elizabeth dropped her head back on my shoulder. “Should I try to move?”
Running my hand down her front to tease her clit, I shook my head. “No, my love. I just want you to feel every inch of my cock inside of you. Can you feel it pulse each time you squeeze?”
Elizabeth moaned as her hand slid up to grasp my thigh, her long nails digging into my skin.
“Does my baby need it rougher?”
“Oh, God, yes. Yes!”
Reaching out, I grasped the crystal jellie dildo. At only about an inch and a half wide and smooth and straight, it was perfect for what I had planned. Adjusting its twelve-inch length in my hand, I placed my free hand at her throat. “Open your mouth.”
Elizabeth obeyed.
Placing the purple dildo just out of reach of her mouth, I further commanded, “Lick it. Get it nice and wet before I shove it down your throat.”
She whimpered before her pink tongue stretched out to lick and swirl around the thick head.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Oh, God.”
“Say it, baby. Tell me to choke you with this dildo as I fuck you.”
Elizabeth’s nails dug harder into my thigh. “Choke me, Richard. Use me,” she begged.
Placing the tips of my fingers just below her jaw, I angled her head and slowly pushed the dildo into her waiting open mouth. The moment it struck the back of her throat, she gagged. I pulled it up slightly before tapping the back of her throat again.
Her shoulders jerked as she choked.
“Come on, baby. Do it for me. Open your throat.”
This time I forced her to work past her gag reflex. Pushing till I felt the toy pop past the resisting muscle at the top of her throat. She breathed noisily through her nose as I carefully pushed several inches deep into her throat.
Waiting till she struggled, I pulled free but only let her suck in a ragged breath before once more thrusting the dildo down her throat.
“That’s it, baby. Swallow it.”
I pulsed the long dildo in and out of her throat just as I moved my hips.
“Touch yourself,” I growled against her neck.
The soapy water splashed as Elizabeth anchored her feet and raised her knees then placed a hand between her legs, adding her fingertips to the steady pulse of water already hitting her sensitive clit.
Matching the pulse of the dildo down her throat to the pulsing shallow thrusts of my cock, I could feel her body shake and tremble under the assault.
The moment I felt her body tense then relax from her orgasm, I pulled the dildo free.
“On your knees.”
The water splashed over the edge onto the floor as Elizabeth shifted position.
Holding the dildo in front of her face, I demanded, “Fuck your throat.”
Her small hand grasped the dildo as she braced her other hand against the rim of the tub.
Rising on my knees, I wrapped my hand around my cock. Placing my thumb at the head, I slowly pushed into her cunt, watching as my thick rod stretched her open before disappearing deep into her body.
“Oh, God,” came her garbled moan as she tried to speak around the dildo.
Placing my hand over hers, I ruthlessly pushed the dildo down her throat. “Harder. I want to see you swallow half of it down that beautiful fucking throat of yours.”
Elizabeth’s body bucked and splashed in the water, but she wasn’t able to dislodge my grasp on the dildo. As I fucked her from behind, I made her fuck her own mouth, reveling in every tremor of her body.
She came a second time just as I released a hot stream deep inside her waiting cunt.
Her breath still coming in heavy rasps, I leaned back and pulled her onto my lap. Reaching behind me, I once more started the taps. Hot water snaked around our bodies as it warmed up our bath. Placing a hand on her head, I pushed her
down onto my shoulder.
As I watched the whirls of steam rise above the water, although they should have been, my thoughts were not on the woman in my arms. They were on a woman from my past… and how I could use her reappearance to my advantage.
Chapter 19
Lizzie
After two weeks of lockdown, Richard was finally letting me out for good behavior.
It had been hard enough to convince him to let me out into the world after the bird incident and my escape to Paris, but after the attack at the dressmaker’s shop there was absolutely no talking to him about it. I was ordered to stay within the confines of the Mayfair House property or face something much more isolated.
I had no idea what he meant, but I overheard him on the phone once talking about needing to double the height of a wall and asking about a boat landing.
Although I didn’t have the courage to ask him outright about the mysterious woman Harris mentioned, I asked him if there were any suspects. All I got was a kiss on the forehead and told that he was handling it. Even though he had said nothing, I was certain it must be the same woman who had attacked me on the street.
What did she mean to Richard?
On more than one occasion I typed Richard’s name in Google intending to search old images and articles of him attending galas and such to see if I recognized the woman on his arm, but thought better of it. Richard said he was handling the matter, and I needed to just leave it at that. To keep pushing him would only invite his anger and possibly a punishment.
It wasn’t just the possibility of incurring his anger. It was obvious he was mostly angry at himself for this perceived idea that he had somehow let me down. Richard at his core was a very old-fashioned man who deeply believed it was the man’s job to provide and protect. The fact someone had gotten past his security on multiple occasions cut him to the quick. It was in the way he shifted from already being an overprotective, uber-alpha male to basically a caveman.
I once teased that if he could, he’d drag me off to some dungeon in some old family-owned castle and chain me to the wall for safekeeping. The light that came into his eyes chilled me to the bone. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that that precise scenario had occurred to him.
After that, I kept quiet on the matter and behaved like a good girl, never even trying to leave the property. It wasn’t that much of a sacrifice. The press had somehow gotten ahold of the story and printed all the gory details along with a photo of me flipping them all the bird.
Richard was beyond furious.
Even though he knew it was pointless, he sent an army of staff out into London to purchase every copy in the stands. Later, the paper that printed the story suffered a cyber-attack that crashed its website and wiped out all its servers. Every article, every document, all employee files… gone. They went out of business the next day.
They should have known better than to upset Richard.
Richard was already gone when I awoke. Next to my pillow he had left a note on his usual heavy card stock. It instructed me to wear my new Chanel suit and to be ready by one o’clock.
The very moment the grandfather clock in the entranceway chimed one o’clock, Richard strolled through the door.
I could see why he wanted me to wear my new Chanel suit. With its cream silk georgette top and ecru tweed overlaying dress jacket, it paired perfectly with his dark grey windowpane check flannel suit.
Richard grasped my hand and lifted it to his lips. He smiled when he saw my engagement ring. With the fifteen-carat central sapphire and six pear-shaped diamonds, each about seven carats, it was a very heavy, imposing ring. Richard had already ordered a more subdued version from Mouawad for me to wear every day. Although I suspected his version of subdued differed greatly from the average person’s idea.
“You look beautiful. Are you ready for our outing?”
“Yes!” I said, bouncing a bit on my toes.
It bored me to tears staying in the house day after day. Richard had tried to keep me entertained by bringing in all the best chefs around London to cook special meals for us, but it wasn’t the same as getting dressed up and dining out on the town. And of course, he also kept me entertained with some pretty creative games in the bedroom, but that was just the nights. It was the days when he had to work and left my side that dragged on. I missed him.
His presence.
His dominating energy.
I missed the flutter I got whenever he looked up at me with those piercing blue eyes that matched the sapphire in my ring.
Damn, I had it bad for this man.
Sometimes he scared me to death with his intensity and the scope of his games, but other times I couldn’t imagine a life without him.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Of course. Richard loved his surprises. I wished I could say the same.
We took the armored car flanked by at least four security vehicles. Richard was taking no chances as the cars navigated traffic around London. Eventually we pulled up to a very familiar sight, Westminster Abbey.
Reaching for his hand as I alighted from the car, I asked, “Are you playing tour guide today?”
“You’ll see,” came his enigmatic response.
Walking past a sign that read ‘closed for a private event,’ Richard swung open one of the massive wooden double doors and we entered the cool, dark interior.
It was hard not to be awestruck by the imposing Gothic cathedral. The stunning vaulted ceiling and all the glorious gold and marble that seemed to gleam even in the shadowed space.
Standing by the Grave of the Unknown Warrior, which was surrounded by bright red poppies, was a gentleman dressed in a brown tweed suit. He looked small. It suddenly occurred to me that all men looked small compared to Richard. It wasn’t just his height. It was the way he commanded a room and the respect of everyone in it. Something I believed had very little to do with just his exalted title.
The man stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “Your Grace, it is an honor.”
“Mr. Simmons, may I introduce my fiancée, Miss Elizabeth Larkin.”
Mr. Simmons shook my hand, his grip clammy and weak.
“If you would be so kind as to follow me,” said Mr. Simmons as he led the way down the center aisle. We walked past several workers who were setting up large floral arrangements of pink roses and orange blossoms.
With my arm looped through his, I squeezed his forearm in delight. “Look at the flowers, Richard! I love pink roses and the orange blossoms are beautiful! This would be the perfect arrangement for our wedding. We should see who the florist is.”
Richard only smiled.
Mr. Simmons led us down a marble white and black checkered aisle to the high altar.
“This is where the ceremony will take place. Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh will be seated right over there.”
He was talking about our wedding.
Our wedding.
Our wedding with the queen in attendance.
My steps faltered.
“Given the… ah,” Mr. Simmons cleared his throat and finished, “urgency, it will only be the primary royal family in attendance. The service will begin with a fanfare by the state trumpeters of the household of the cavalry for the arrival of the queen.”
I could feel Richard’s gaze on me but couldn’t look up. At this moment, the only thing I could do was concentrate on painfully sucking air into my lungs as the room spun.
Mr. Simmons continued to drone on. “Might I humbly recommend a seven-piece orchestral rendition of Sir Charles Hubert Hastings Parry’s ‘Bridal March’ from The Birds? Princess Catherine processed to that piece of music for her own wedding and it was very well received.”
The marble-tiled floor swirled and danced before my eyes.
“As for the hymns during the wedding service, I have a few suggestions.”
Richard interjected. “Mr. Simmons, if you would be so kind as to give us a moment
.”
Mr. Simmons snapped his leather portfolio closed and bowed as he stepped back. “Of course, Your Grace. Take all the time you need.”
Even though it was probably still months away, I wasn’t ready for all the pomp and circumstance, not to mention attention, the wedding would bring down on me. I wasn’t ready to be a duchess. I wasn’t ready for any of this. It was too much. I could feel the icy fist of anxiety squeezing my lungs. This was happening too fast.
Keeping my eyes averted, I whispered, “I can’t do this.”
“Look at me, little one.”
I kept my gaze lowered. My breathing was labored as I tried to stop the room from spinning.
Richard placed a crooked finger under my chin and lifted my head up. “You will do this because I’m not giving you any choice. You’re mine, baby, and it’s past time I made that official.”
My vision blurred as tears pooled in my eyes. “I don’t know how to be a duchess. I don’t know royal protocol. I don’t fit in your world.”
“None of that matters to me.”
“It should! It should matter to you.”
Taking my arm, Richard walked me the few steps till we were standing in front of the altar. “Here is what matters to me,” he said.
Taking both of my hands into his own, the timbre of his voice was quiet and solemn as he said, “Before God and man, I vow to take Elizabeth Adelaide Larkin to be my wife. I will love, comfort, honor and protect her, and will forsake all others, to be faithful to her as long as I live.”
I was speechless.
Then Richard took a step forward, then another.
“Richard?”
I took several steps back, trying to pull my hands free from his tightening grasp.
“Richard, what are you doing?” I asked as my alarm built.
Something hard hit my lower back, and I turned to look over my shoulder to see it was the altar. Richard finally let go of my hands, only to cage me in by placing his hands on the altar on either side of me.