Delia's Debt

by Allison West

  “Yes!” Emma exclaimed. Her eyes widened and it seemed as though the pressure and anxiety that had suddenly found its way onto her shoulders had lifted. Perhaps the girls had thought there would have been a nursery or someplace to play while the grownups talked. At the first glance in the house, the rooms were scantily furnished and humble in decor. The pale cream walls had a coating of paint several years old. The walls held up quite well considering the age and lack of attention.

  Delia led the girls down the narrow corridor toward the back of the house where her bedroom had been situated. Opening the door to her bedroom, she headed straight for her closet and removed the box at the highest shelf, pulling it down to reveal the stuffed animals, rag dolls, and wooden puzzles she had played with as a child.

  She let the girls dig through her box of mementos. Within seconds, the entire contents had been dumped out and onto the floor. She chose not to scold them for their eagerness and the mess that followed. Delia wanted to bond with the girls. If she were to be their mother, then she wanted both their respect and their love.

  “Delia,” Charles’s voice carried from down the hall.

  “I will be back,” she assured the girls as she headed out of her childhood bedroom for the living room. The walk was not far, only a few short feet.

  “Are you sure this is what you both want?” her father asked, staring intently at Delia. It made her feel uncomfortable to be under such scrutiny. Was he not happy that she had found someone to marry? A man who was not Fred Hill, that cared about her and was not solely after her small dowry.

  “Yes,” Delia said, a hint of determination as her eyes squinted and her hands balled into fists at her side. “I came to work for Charles and discovered that he would make a suitable husband.”

  “Is it an exchange for services?” her father asked. “I can not see what other reason you would desire the daughter of a shopkeeper.”

  “I do not wish a penny of Delia’s dowry,” Charles said.

  Her father glanced from Charles back to his daughter. “Are you in trouble? Is that why the sudden interest in getting wed? We pushed off the betrothal to Fred for months. What I cannot understand is why you have suddenly desired a man you hardly know.”

  Delia reached for Charles’s hand. “I know all I need to. Everything else we shall find out in due time.” If one counted hours, she had spent far less time with her betrothed than Charles already.

  “Very well,” her father said, grumbling displeased by the news. “You do realize the responsibility you will have to those two children?”

  Delia glanced back toward her room and smiled. “Yes, father, and I look forward to it.”

  * * * * *

  Delia felt relieved after dinner when the hour had come for her to finally return home with Charles and his girls. Though her father had given as much of his blessing as he would, he had not seemed pleased with the arrangement of marriage. Why couldn’t he be happy for her?

  Charles tucked the girls into bed while Delia enjoyed a nice bath that the housemaid had drawn for her. The water was warm and her skin had craved a good cleaning.

  With the door shut but not locked, Charles knocked briskly before entering. “I see you have started without me.”

  “The water would have gotten cold,” Delia said. “Besides, you insisted I go on and get ready for bed.” This was her new routine, with the early wakeup calls involving two young girls. Any time she had to herself was in the evening and likely to be shared with Charles. Not that Delia minded it. He could watch her bathe if he felt so inclined.

  “Is there enough room for two in that tub?” he asked.

  Delia smiled and sat up, the bubbles sloshing around as she held out her hand, the cool air forcing goose bumps to pimple her arms and her nipples to harden. “I can make room.”

  Charles worked to disrobe his attire, leaving his clothes on the wooden floor.

  “Perhaps you could lock the door before joining me.” Delia did not want any unwarranted company stumbling in to see the two of them tangled together and naked in the porcelain tub.

  “It is already done,” Charles said. “My housemaids know only what I allow them to see. I do like keeping a hint of privacy and mystery over their heads.” The smile only seemed to grow on his face as he stepped toward the bath and let his fingers run over the top of the water, feeling the temperature while also grazing her breasts.

  She suspected he had done it on purpose, wanting to touch her whenever given the chance. She scooted forward, allowing him to climb into the water behind her. The moment he had himself situated she leaned back into his embrace and shut her eyes. “I am exhausted.” The day at the exhibition along with visiting her father had taken its toll on her.

  “Too tired to let your poppa care for you tonight?” Charles asked.

  Delia longed to let him dress and bathe her, cuddle her in his arms until she fell asleep. “I think I can stay awake a little longer.”

  “That is my good little Lia.” He kissed her cheek and let his hands roam beneath the water, separating her folds, as he touched and stroked her quim.

  Her hips moved with his caress as she desired more from him. “Please, poppa.”

  “Please, what?” he asked as she climbed around in the tub, wanting to straddle him. There was not much room. Instead, he lifted her into his arms, and carefully stepped out of tub. Placing her feet firmly on the ground, he gathered two towels, helping dry her off before working on his own dripping wet skin.

  She whimpered in protest, her cunny throbbed to be touched and he had barely paid any attention since the moment he swept her from the water. What was he thinking? Had she done something wrong to offend him? She did not ask again. It was not in her nature to beg for what she craved. If he would not give into her temptations then when they laid in bed, she would allow her own fingers to graze her slick curves and satisfy her needs.

  “Come.” He took Delia’s hand and led her into the bedroom. She shivered, the room felt chilled from her recent bath. “Instead of your nightgown, I want you to wear nothing to bed.”

  “Nothing?” Perhaps her night would get better. The corners of her lips quirked upwards. She did not object in the slightest.

  “Lie down. I wish to examine you.”

  Delia’s mouth grew dry and her quim throbbed at the mere thought of what he might do. She followed his instruction, scooting back onto the mattress.

  “Open your legs for me, little Lia. I want to make sure you are plenty wet and not just from the bath.” He hovered above her, his naked form glowing and gorgeous as he dripped tiny droplets of water from his hair and arms onto her breasts. His thumb grazed her nipple, watching her reaction as he palmed the mound of flesh.

  One hand moved down between her thighs, separating her legs as he caressed her shaved quim. He had been diligent about keeping her folds looking as angelic as possible. His thick digits separated her outer lips, which only made her feel as though her sex was on fire. He had lit the match that had started the yearning she felt for him. Her cunny pulsed and throbbed under his ministrations. Would he tease her all night or just until he was satisfied that she wanted him?

  Crawling down her torso, his breath tickled between her thighs as his tongue darted out, tasting her wetness.

  She wanted to touch him but his focus was on her pleasure. His tongue stroked her clit and her fingers curled into his thick chestnut hair as she kept him to her, unwilling to let him slip away from her.

  He plunged two fingers into her warmth and her insides clenched down onto his digits, feeling the first spasm begin its course. Her fingers twitched slightly as she craved his body like never before.

  “Roll over,” he commanded, withdrawing two fingers before paddling her bottom with his hand.

  Whining and whimpering, she squirmed to get away. “What did I do wrong?” He had only ever spanked her when she had made a harsh mistake. She could not recall anything terrible that she had done today.

  “Absolutely n
othing. You are too perfect which is why you need your bottom reddened. I like a little mischief from time to time.” He rubbed at her clit and slid his digits from her juices back toward her bottom. “Do not change who you are because of me,” Charles said. “I only want you to be a better version of yourself.”

  She did not quite understand what he meant, but decided now was not the time to ask such questions.

  “Please,” she whispered. Did he want her to beg for release? Had that been part of this game, to hear her lose control? Her quim throbbed and ached with a fire that would not cease. She could see his own erection as she glanced back over her shoulder. Surely he wanted her to satisfy him as well. “Let me satisfy you.”

  “You will.” He caressed her bottom and used her juices to lubricate her rear as he separated her cheeks. “Climb onto fours, little Lia.”

  Tired and pulsating, desiring release, she did as he instructed. Charles ran his gentle yet firm palms over her bottom and dipped his two fingers past her pink pucker. She hissed under her breath as he stretched her. Grateful her face was bent down, he could not see the red tinge on her cheeks from her own embarrassment in such a position. It did not matter that this was not the first time examining her bottom, it was not seeming to get any easier.

  “Can you take another finger?” Charles asked.

  She wanted to please him but she did not think anything larger would fit into her little bottom hole. “I do not know,” Delia gasped, as she felt him pressing a third digit against her opening, pushing past her tight ring as he stretched and pushed deeper inside of her. He had used three fingers before but it had been some time since he had paid such attention to her bottom.

  Her eyes clenched shut and her fingers gripped at the bed sheets, tugging at them in tight fists. He made her feel full in a way she could not quite comprehend. Much like the plug in her bottom, he stretched her and aroused her to the brink of ecstasy. Did he do this on purpose or to torment her?

  Thrusting his fingers in and out her bottom, he allowed his other hand to stroke her quim, finally allowing her the sweet heavenly release that she had been seeking for what felt like hours. As his thumb caressed her clit, it felt as though a jolt of lightening coursed through her body, zapping her. Delia’s insides clenched onto his digits and her quim spasmed as she trembled on all fours, struggling to keep her position.

  Charles released his hold on her as she gradually slumped forward, onto the mattress, sated.

  She wanted to please Charles, it was his turn and yet her body did not and could not move.

  He dropped soft butterfly kisses across her cheek and down her shoulder as she lay on her stomach, her head turned slightly to look back at him.

  Each kiss seemed to flow through her like energy offering her strength and renewing her need to please him. Gradually she shifted onto her back, his lips covering hers as she pulled him down to her, letting her fingers graze his back and then down his bottom, before reaching her intended destination.

  His member was hard as she stroked his length, wanting to take him where she had been, a pleasure filled euphoria. Her tongue and kisses moved across his chest and down his body.

  “No,” he rasped. It seemed to take all his strength to mutter that single word.

  She paused, glancing up at him, curious what she had done wrong.

  “With you,” Charles said. “I want it to be with you.” He waited for her to shuffle back further onto the mattress, her head against the pillow before he guided her legs further apart.

  His breath met hers as he leaned in, capturing her lips in a searing hot kiss, pushing his tongue past her lips and into her mouth.

  Her fingers tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck, unwilling to let him go.

  “You are mine,” he whispered between kisses, dragging her hands away from him and pushing them into the pillows above her head. “I am in control.”

  Delia would do anything to please him. She did as he told, keeping her arms pinned up above her body, letting him have complete power, though she wanted to touch his cock and guide him inside her warmth.

  Charles spread the lips of her quim.

  She took a sharp intake of breath, prepared for his warmth and fullness to stretch her cunny walls. “I want to touch you.”

  “On our wedding night you will be allowed,” Charles said.

  Delia whimpered. Did she have to obey him like this for an entire week? It was too long! A few hours she could manage, though she felt as though she were dying inside, craving not only contact but fulfillment from running her fingers over his skin. He did not give her that, yet.

  “Please,” Delia said, pleading with him to satisfy her a second time that night.

  Charles inched his rock hard cock gradually inside her quim. “Do not move,” he commanded, pushing deeper inside of her body, his eyes locked onto hers.

  Staring up at him, she felt desperate to move, to shift her hips and grind into him, wanting to pull him tighter to her body. Delia craved contact with him in every possible way. Her heart thumped wildly like a beast that could not be tamed, screaming to be set free. Sweat dripped from her forehead and her hands shook as they stayed in the very position that he had put them in. “I want to touch you,” Delia said.

  “Feel, little Lia, rather than touch. Close your eyes.”

  She followed his instruction, shutting her eyelids as he pushed himself deeper into her canal. Trusting did not come easy but with Charles she had found she would do whatever he asked of her without question. He had no reason to hurt or betray her. There had been something about him that was different, that made her feel as though he would always protect her, no matter what.

  One hand came down, crushing hers together, entwining their fingers.

  She squeezed his hand, her body trembling as he increased his pace, grinding his hips into hers. Delia’s back arched into Charles’s and her head dipped back, toes curling as she felt her insides on the verge of letting go.

  Each thrust grew with intensity before she felt him swell. Clenching onto his erection, she squeezed and shuddered as he spilled his seed inside of her.

  Soft sweet kisses trailed across her jaw before he rolled off her petite frame and lay beside her. “Sweet dreams, my little Lia.”

  Chapter 10

  He had expected to be heckled up until his last moments as a single bachelor by his irritating cousin Edward. Charles found it peculiar that he had been unusually kind, perhaps it was the fact he had gotten the day off work to attend the wedding. After all, it was the best day of all to get married, with no ill superstitions plaguing either of them. If he was going to wed Delia, he was going to put everything he had into the marriage, including hope. He did not wish to lose Delia as he had Mary. Perhaps marrying his late wife on Friday, a day to marry for losses, had been true.

  A soft rap at the door startled his attention. Charles walked across the creaking wood floor, as Edward overlooked the window, making no attempt to help the groom on his wedding day.

  The wedding was to be held in Delia’s parish, where family and friends of both Charles and Delia could attend. Though her list had been small, the place downstairs had been quite beautiful with the stained glass windows letting light into the alter. Upstairs, the windows held no curtains, offering a glance three flights down at the children playing outside, running around as they waited for the wedding to begin.

  The smell of fresh sweet bread wafted through the church. Charles suspected the kitchen maid had broken off pieces for the younger children to keep them from grumbling. It had been a well-conceived idea, especially for his girls, that could eat at all hours if given the opportunity.

  “Who is it?” Charles asked, as he came to open the door, surprised to find Delia in her wedding gown, her cheeks as ivory as the dress she wore. “What is wrong, Delia?” He could see the look of panic on her face. Did she have second thoughts now that their wedding day had come?

  “I can not do this.”

  Edward pushed
himself from the window, his shoes groaning on the stressed wood as he headed toward the two of them. “Seems your secret is not safe after all, Charles.”

  Charles sighed, his heart instantly aching at her confession. His reputation may have been on the line but it was the furthest thought on his mind. His eyes glanced from her down to the cold wooden floor. The color and dullness matched his sudden change of mood. He had been looking forward to their marriage, to being bound to her and no longer having to hide his feelings outside of their home, for fear of her reputation being soiled.

  “My father. He is not here yet,” Delia said, her hands shaking as she reached for Charles’s fingers, entwining their hands together. “I need him here to walk me down the aisle, Charles. He would not miss his only daughter’s wedding. Something must be wrong.”

  Grimacing, Charles felt the weight of concern in the pit of his stomach. At least she still wanted to marry him. The tension and knot only seemed to grow in thickness and despair.

  Edward cleared his throat and folded his arms across his chest. “By any chance is your father Jack Amor?”

  “Yes,” Charles said, raising his gaze to Edward. “Would you care to elaborate on how you know her father?”

  “He was brought in and sentenced for robbing a bank. He is on the transport for the penal colony to Australia. It shall leave tomorrow at sunrise.”

  “What?” Delia’s eyes widened, likely horrified by the news.

  “There must be some misunderstanding,” Charles said, shaking his head. “We just saw him a little over a week ago.”

  Delia swept into the room and grabbed Edward by the ear. “You will take me to him at once or I shall rip this appendage right off your face.”

  “Is that a threat?” Edward grinned, not showing a hint of fear. “I did not sentence your father, only led him onto the deck of the ship where he is being held.”