Toxic: A Dark Romance

by Zoe Blake

  My stupid skirts kept catching on the chair legs as I passed by.

  “Your Grace, if I may?” said Harris.

  It took me a minute to realize he was addressing me as ‘Your Grace.’

  Looking down at his hand, I saw he held a knife. At my confused look, he gestured to the full skirts of my dress.

  My shoulders sagged in relief. “Yes! Cut it off, Harris.”

  “Stand still.”

  He picked up a fistful of material and began to cut through the expensive silk as I leaned on his shoulder for support.

  “I do apologize, Your Grace. I have sent some staff to retrieve some belongings for both of you but the hospital is locked down fairly tight with security and the entire city is on high alert looking for the shooter so it may take them awhile.”

  The weight of the skirt fell away. I gave a grateful sigh, caring little that I now stood in only my bodice, a short silk slip that barely reached mid-thigh, and a pair of stockings, garters, and high heels.

  One of his guards rushed over to drape a scratchy grey wool blanket over my shoulders.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to get checked out by the nurses?” asked Harris.

  “I’m not injured.”

  “Yes, but I was thinking more about shock.”

  Giving him a weak smile, I shook my head no. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Harris nodded his understanding before turning to accept a hot cup of tea from a nearby staff member. “At least sit down and drink some tea. Richard would never forgive me if he found out I neglected you in any way.”

  Taking in his brutal-looking face with its crooked nose, I almost felt sympathetic for the man. Richard had, after all, been shot on his watch. Taking the paper cup filled with hot tea from his hands, I gingerly sat on the edge of a nearby chair and sipped at its contents.

  A nurse approached us. “He’s out of surgery and already coming out of the anesthesia. The doctor is with him now. I’ll take you to him.”

  Abandoning my tea and blanket, I rushed to follow the nurse with Harris on my heels.

  They led us into a darkened private room. The doctor was standing over Richard, speaking in hushed tones.

  Richard was propped up slightly against some pillows. His muscled chest bare except for a thick white bandage taped in place in the center.

  He reached for my hand. I clasped it close and held it over my heart as tears streaked down my cheeks.

  “As I was telling His Grace, he is extremely fortunate. The bullet hit his sternum. A half an inch to the left and it would have punctured his heart.”

  Richard shot Harris an annoyed glare. Harris’ shoulders lifted in a slight shrug.

  It was an odd exchange, but I assumed Richard blamed him for not securing the cathedral better.

  “We’re also fortunate it wasn’t a higher caliber bullet or it might have done some actual damage.”

  “So, what are you saying, Doctor?” I asked anxiously.

  The doctor smiled. “I’m saying, His Grace is one lucky son-of-a-bitch. He lost some blood and the impact of the bullet cracked a few ribs, but his sternum took the majority of the hit and deflected the bullet. He’ll have some bruising and one hell of a scar to brag about, but other than that, he’ll be fine in a few days.”

  I threw myself on top of Richard, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “Careful, love,” he said with a laugh, “or you’ll crack the other ribs.”

  Shifting upright, I swiped at the tears on my cheeks. “I’m just so relieved you’re going to be okay.”

  Richard’s face suddenly darkened. His brow furrowed as, despite his injury, he sat up straighter in bed. Looking over the railing of the gurney, his gaze surveyed me from head to toe. “Wife,” he growled. “What the hell are you wearing?”

  My arms wrapped across my breasts and middle in a futile attempt to hide my scandalous attire.

  Then Richard demanded, “Where’s my belt?”

  He would be just fine.

  It wasn’t long before the detectives from Special Branch arrived to ask Richard and me some questions.

  “Had you received any credible threats leading up to the wedding?”

  I gestured to Richard’s jacket, which was lying across a chair on the other side of the room. I knew the damning mobile with the photos was in the inside pocket. I started to speak, but Richard squeezed my hand.

  “No, Detective,” he said with a stern look in my direction.

  I gave him a confused look but remained dutifully silent.

  “Any idea who could have done this?”

  I looked at Richard, waiting for his response.

  “None at all.”

  What the hell?

  What was going on here?

  Richard knew damn well it must have been that woman who shot him.

  Why was he protecting her?

  I stood there fuming as the detectives finished their questioning and left.

  The moment the door closed, I turned to Richard with only one question on my lips. “Why?”

  He responded sternly. “Elizabeth, I will handle this my way. You are not to interfere, do you understand me?”

  Reluctantly, I nodded yes.

  There was a discreet knock on the door before Harris entered. Richard reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I could really use a nice cuppa. Would you go find me one?”

  Now dressed in a more respectable pair of buff slacks with a cream cashmere sweater, I left the room to do his bidding.

  Balancing a small tray with a cup of tea and some biscuits in one hand, I didn’t knock as I entered his room. Thus, I was able to catch the final bits of his and Harris’ conversation before they noticed my presence.

  “Is phase two all set?” asked Richard.

  “They’d have to be blind and stupid to not pick up on the damning trail of evidence I left,” responded Harris.

  “And the mobile?”

  Harris didn’t answer. They both looked up to see me.

  Richard gave me a slow smile as he gestured for me to step closer. “My love.”

  I couldn’t explain why, but the endearment sent a chill of unease up my spine.

  “Will you walk into my parlour?” said a spider to a fly.

  Up jump’d the cruel spider, and firmly held her fast!

  He dragg’d her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,

  Within his little parlour; but she ne’er came down again.

  Chapter 23

  Richard

  She was finally all mine, under my complete control.

  We were back at Chillingalt Hall, my estate in Wolverhampton Staffordshire.

  There was absolutely no staying in the city with the hoard of international media baying and howling at the doors of my Mayfair home. They were in an absolute frenzy as everyone speculated whether I or Her Majesty the Queen was the intended target of the assassin and if someone had connected them to any extremist group.

  Meanwhile, behind the scenes, I kept close tabs on the investigation, making sure the detectives found what they were supposed to find, when they were supposed to find it.

  Step by step they were getting closer.

  Soon the trap would snap shut.

  Elizabeth stepped into the conservatory. To please me, she was wearing one of her Victorian gowns. It had a beautiful Dolman jacket of emerald green velvet trimmed with black cord.

  Although we hadn’t discussed it, I knew she felt more at ease returning to our familiar pattern of life here on the estate. With no intrusive technology and very limited electricity, there was little to break our quiet isolation. We had filled the last few days with lazy afternoons spent picnicking on the grounds as Elizabeth read aloud to me from Bram Stoker’s Dracula, followed by elegant evenings by the fire.

  We had left the world and all its nastiness and chaos behind us.

  Her willingness to return to this type of life only reinforced my resolve to move forward with my future plans for her… for
us.

  This morning, when I awoke without so much as a twinge of soreness or pain, I knew I had my full strength back.

  Tonight, I would finally claim my wife.

  Instead of leading her to the master bedroom as I had done the last few nights, I took her arm and escorted her further down the hall. Her steps faltered when she realized where I was leading her.

  I watched her body stiffen as her small hand shook.

  “You remember your old bedroom, don’t you, little one?”

  We hadn’t been in this room since the morning she had tried to shoot me. It was barely a month ago but felt like a lifetime. Still, I knew the memories of the various punishments, the restraints, the feel of my whip remained. Everything she had endured within these four walls was still fresh in her mind.

  Elizabeth swallowed before nervously licking her lips. Turning wide eyes on me, she asked, “What about your injury? Surely it’s too soon.” Her voice trembled with each word as she tried to hide her fear.

  She should be afraid.

  My blood pounded with pent-up energy, a fire I had kept banked for two interminable days while I recovered. Now the primal need raging in my veins would no longer be denied. There was a driving need within my soul to hurt, to fuck, to claim her, to hear her screams of both agony and ecstasy, for this time would be different. This time I would possess her body as her husband, her lord and master. The need to do so was so tangible I could practically taste her on my tongue.

  Despite her reluctance, she dutifully followed me into the room.

  My staff had prepared it. There was a roaring fire and several of the gas lamps were on but turned low, giving the room a champagne glow. Taking a seat in one of the upholstered chairs, I reached for the crystal decanter of Glenfiddich Grand Cru that had been placed on a low table nearby for my use. Pouring myself a generous two fingers, I let my gaze wander over my beautiful bride who stood nervously by, twisting the fabric of her velvet skirts between her fingers as I took a long, slow sip.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  “Richard, I’m…”

  “Elizabeth. Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”

  She bit her trembling lip as her arms rose to the small pearl buttons of her velvet jacket. One by one she released them, exposing teasing glimpses of the cream silk corset she wore beneath. Shrugging out of the jacket, she placed it on the chair across from me. The simple gesture pushed the generous curves of her breasts against the stiffened fabric of the corset. I shifted in my seat as my cock hardened.

  Reaching behind her, she untied the ribbons holding up her skirt. When it fell to the floor, she stepped away from the fabric. Dressed as she now was in only a petticoat and corset, I motioned with my glass for her to keep going.

  Lifting up her petticoat, she placed one foot then the other on the small ottoman nearby to unlace her kid leather ankle boots. If she wasn’t so scared, I would have thought she was sexually teasing me as she slowly pulled the ties on the ribbons securing her petticoat. Finally, the soft linen fabric floated to the floor. It left her in only her corset and cream stockings secured with blush pink garters about mid-thigh.

  “Get on your knees.”

  I raised one eyebrow in challenge as she hesitated.

  Fortunately for her, she quickly obeyed, lowering herself to the floor.

  “Crawl to me.”

  A soft whimper escaped her lips as she slid one hand and then one knee forward, then the other. Her hair had started to come loose from its chignon. Soft curls wisped around her face and fell down her back and over her shoulders.

  I took another sip of scotch, the soothing burn adding to my enjoyment of the moment. I had made her crawl to me in supplication probably over a hundred times, but this time was different. This time she was my wife. My property… to do with as I pleased. The thought sent a heady rush of blood straight to my cock.

  Finally, she was kneeling before me. Dipping my finger into my scotch, I ran the tip of it over her bottom lip, watching as it glistened in the firelight. My desire was so strong it physically hurt to watch the tip of her perfect little pink tongue flick out to taste the warming liquid on her lips. Knowing how that same tongue felt, flicking and swirling around the head of my cock right before I pushed it down her throat.

  “Unbuckle my belt.”

  Rising, her small hands ran along the tops of my thighs before reaching for the silver buckle. A white-hot surge of possession roared over me when I saw my ring on her finger.

  My wife.

  Mine.

  I leaned up in my seat so she could pull the leather belt free.

  Settling back into the plush softness of my chair, I looked down at her beautiful gamine face and her large emerald eyes. My voice came out in a harsh, husky murmur. “Put the belt in your mouth.”

  Elizabeth folded the belt in half and opened her mouth, placing the strap between her teeth.

  “Do you taste that? The tang of the leather.”

  She slowly nodded. Her gaze steady on my mouth as if transfixed.

  “Feel how the leather is warm from my body as it soon will be from yours?”

  Her sharp, pearly teeth sank into the leather strap as she whimpered soft and low.

  I stroked and petted her hair. Taking my belt from her mouth, I tested its weight in my hand. In a moment of raw honesty, I confessed to her, “I need this, baby. I need to hear you scream. I need to feel your punished warm skin beneath my hand. Do you understand what I’m saying? I won’t be gentle. I’ve waited too long to feel… to know that you’re mine… truly mine.”

  Elizabeth lowered her gaze and turned away from me. I watched as she crawled over to the bed. The curve of her beautiful ass on full display. Standing up, she reached for the wrist restraint that dangled from the left bedpost and slipped her hand through the thick leather cuff. Stretching her arms wide, she slipped her right hand through the other cuff.

  Tossing a sultry look over her shoulder, she said, “Hurt me… husband.”

  With a growl, I rose from my seat and tossed my glass into the fire. A burst of unholy flame flared as I tore off my shirt. Leaving my trousers on, I approached the bed. I loved how it made her feel more vulnerable to have me partially dressed while she was bare.

  She cried out as I tightened then buckled the first wrist restraint. With my belt in my hand, I let the folded curve of the leather caress her lower back and the top of her ass as I moved to secure the second restraint, reveling in her raspy inhale from the contact.

  Standing behind her, I yanked on her hair, wrenching her head back.

  Leaning forward, I whispered into her ear, “Say it again.”

  “Hurt me… husband.”

  Placing my right foot behind me, I raised my arm, letting the belt unfurl from my grasp. Swinging wide, the sound of leather connecting with skin sent a resounding thwack that echoed around the room.

  Elizabeth’s body jerked against the restraints as she cried out.

  My belt swung a second time, striking her across both bottom cheeks, leaving an angry pink welt. Again I swung, connecting with her upper thighs.

  Elizabeth screamed and went up on her toes as her hands clenched into fists.

  With my demons unleashed, each strike of the leather on her ass sent a bolt straight to my painfully hard shaft.

  Her buttocks glowed a bright, painful red. Her hair clung to the tears on her cheeks as she openly wept, but still I wasn’t finished.

  Tossing the belt aside, I wanted to feel her skin. Raising my arm, I smacked her reddened cheeks with the palm of my hand, glorying in the punishing heat I felt radiating off her body.

  “Richard! I can’t anymore. Please stop!”

  Reaching between her legs, I felt the wet warmth of her arousal.

  “I should keep punishing you just for lying to me,” I threatened as I pushed two fingers deep inside her tight cunt.

  “Oh, God!” Her knees buckled, the weight of her body held up by her wrist restraints. I pulsed my fingers into
her wet heat several times before pulling free.

  Lowering the zipper of my trousers, my thick cock sprang free.

  Stepping up behind her, I placed my hands on her lower thighs, bending her body in two as I lifted her high.

  Shifting my hips forward, I lowered her cunt onto my throbbing cock, knowing the weight of her own body would impale her on me.

  Her hair draped down my back as her head rolled onto my shoulder. “It’s too deep. It hurts,” she cried.

  “Take it, baby girl. Take it all,” I growled. I knew it spread her open painfully wide with her arms outstretched and my grip on her thighs. I lifted her a little higher as I shifted my hips back before brutally shifting forward and dropping her back onto my cock.

  Elizabeth screamed as her body clenched around me.

  Unable to take anymore, I lowered her legs to the floor and clawed at the buckles of her restraints. Elizabeth collapsed forward onto the bed.

  Spreading her ass cheeks open, I flicked the tip of my finger over her tightly puckered hole. Despite longing to sink my shaft deep into her ass, that would have to wait till later. There could be no doubt this marriage had been properly consummated.

  Dipping my knees low, I positioned my cock at her entrance and plunged in deep. Her body rocked back and forth as I plowed into her from behind. Ruthlessly taking what was mine.

  Pushing my fingers through the wild tangle of her hair, I pulled her head back, forcing her to arch her back, allowing me to press in deeper.

  “Say it,” I rasped against her skin before sinking my teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder, my other hand reaching between her thighs and pinching her clit. “Say it.”

  Her mouth opened on a silent scream before I felt the tremors of her own intense release course through her body.

  My balls tightened as my cock swelled. With one final thrust, I poured my seed deep into her belly before collapsing onto her. After a moment, feeling breathless and spent, I lifted both our bodies up onto the bed and pulled a corner of the blanket over us before pressing her head against my chest, wanting her to feel the rapid beating of my heart.