Silver Silk Ties

by Raven McAllan

  Her smile made his heart thud so loud he wondered she could not hear it. His body was hot with desire and he knew if he had worn light-colored pantaloons the evidence of his arousal would have shown in an ever-spreading stain.

  She ran her tongue around her rosy lips. The simple action made him bite his lips so as not to groan out loud.

  Then she spoke.

  "I would say," she paused, he was sure for effect, "yes, my lord."

  Felton's hand tightened in her hair and pulled her towards him. He lifted her onto her toes and, with studied deliberation, he let his cock rub her quim. The flimsy materials of their clothing seemed a fragile obstacle, and her heat seared into him.

  How he wished he could demand it of her now. Then spin her and fuck her every way imaginable. It was with difficulty Felton curbed his rampant desire. He had waited this long. A few more hours would not be insurmountable. Still, he had to push, just that bit farther.

  "And if I say bare your arse and bend over the arm of the chaise? Let me press my cock into that dark channel of desire. Fill your arse and pump myself into you until my bollocks caress your globes and sting your quim. What then?"

  "Yes, my lord."

  One last question and they would need to leave.

  "So, if my hand reddens your arse and your quim, until the imprint of my fingers linger and their color mimics your rosy lips?"

  She sighed, and to his delight, stamped her foot. It would be his delight to remind her and chastise her for that later

  "I would say…yes, my lord. When?"

  Chapter Four

  He slipped his hand under the top of her gown, found one rock hard nipple, and nipped. Her moan of arousal was sweet music to him.

  "Soon." He promised as he rolled her nipple between two fingers, relishing the softness of the skin and the peak of its arousal. "To my sorrow, here is neither the time nor the place. As you reminded me so recently, this is our wedding night. It should be spent in our marital…" He hesitated. "Rooms," he said at last.

  "Rooms?" Her head tilted to one side, and she winced as the action caused his hold on her hair to sting her scalp.

  He chose to overlook her departure from submissive role. There was much to be said and done before they could enjoy all those beautiful actions. He moved his hand to rub her scalp. He could swear she purred in pleasure.

  "Ahh, that is good." She sighed and let him guide her so once more her head bowed.

  "I am pleased. Yes, my dear, rooms. As now it seems we are to enjoy much more than I could have envisaged, we will share our rooms. Not just the master suite. You will see."

  "In town?" she asked, not looking at him.

  "And at Frierlies," he said, mentioning his family seat in the shires. "There we will have more scope to indulge. For now though, we will be well served at Dalrey House."

  "Not here?" She did look up then, puzzled. As well, he thought, she might.

  "Here is work," he explained. "Here I call in to supervise if needed, though I take little part in the day to day running. Never is our relationship to be thought of as work, even though we will work at it. It will be pleasure, nothing less. As such it will progress in our space. So, are you ready to leave, my dear? To return to Dalrey House for this one night? Tomorrow, if we are able, we will remove to Frierlies for our honeymoon. I will of course defer to you in all things regarding your father's probable demise."

  She dipped her head, not as a subversive, but in thanks.

  "Lud, I had forgot. I wonder how it is with him and Jeremy. And," she said, her voice harsh, "Stanley."

  Felton kissed the top of her head and, with reluctance, set her aside. "Leyton is there to keep an eye on things. I have all faith in his capabilities to control one such as Stanley, physician or not. Leyton was an acclaimed pugilist in his time. He can well sort out the likes of your cousin. I have also taken the liberty of commanding my personal physician to attend you father. There will be nothing underhand allowed to happen. At this moment I believe all is well, and your father alive, so if you wish to visit?" One eyebrow rose in query.

  Ara shook her head. "No, thank you, my lord. There is nothing there for me. He has forbidden me entrance to the house since I married George, and no one is allowed to speak my name. As I have been dead to him these past years, and I have no feelings towards him other than contempt, I feel there is no need. Though I do allow, I am interested to know what makes you aware of such things?"

  "No one has disturbed us by rattling at the door," he said. "I have a system of knocks that staff can use. That as occupant of our rooms can be made aware of things they need to know, without necessarily ceasing their, ah…"

  "Fucking?"

  He chuckled. He was delighted that she continued to surprise him.

  "Just so."

  "But we are not fucking. Therefore, we would not be disturbed," Ara pointed out.

  Felton surprised himself by kissing her with gentle passion on her lips. He stopped before it became uncontrollable and took it deeper. "My staff does not know that. They do know the rules. No interruptions. Unless there is a fire, and even then, they use a system of bells. No exemption. Therefore, your father is still alive. Now, I accept we do not attend his deathbed, instead do we return to our marital bed?"

  "Return?" Ara asked tartly. "I do not remember you in it. We arrived. You introduced me to your housekeeper. You left. You did not even have the decency to show me into our chambers. No, you rushed away as if you were ashamed of me."

  ****

  Once more the silence in the room was enough to deafen. Felton's face was shuttered, with no discernible expression. Only the way he clenched his hand showed her statement had affected him in some way.

  Well, I care not if he does not want to hear this. I do not want to hurt him if it is not necessary, but he wounded me on his departure. I may submit, but I am no milksop maiden to be walked over. I had such high hopes, only for them to be dashed.

  She stared at him. His eyes narrowed, but Ara would not back down. This was her future. She had married him expecting at least some modicum of attention, and the hope she could show him what she could bring to their relationship. Now, it seemed she had not hoped in vain. Notwithstanding, Ara was determined he would not experience her as his submissive unless they established some ground rules. First and foremost, he did not leave her unfulfilled and begging for release because he did not discover what she was capable of. To leave her in that state for other reasons may well be forthcoming, and that she accepted gladly.

  Felton raised one elegant eyebrow.

  "My apologies, my dear. It seems I have failed in many a way these last months. With your permission—" He stopped speaking and grinned. Ara's body responded with a clit-clenching gush of arousal. Even the fine hairs on her neck tingled as he continued. "You do not realize to what degree that is strange. I do not usually ask for permission in such a way. Having stated that, this, although a first, is I think necessary. Therefore, if you do not wish to attend your father, and I for one see no reason why you should, with your permission, we should return to our home, and I could make amends." He kissed her hand, and bent her fingers over the spot. The sensations that coursed through her were so intense, she was sure she was branded. Ara was certain if she looked at her palm, it would be marked, even though he had exerted no pressure.

  In the face of such charm and regret, Ara melted. Who was she to deny him? She knew she was once more ready to take her place in a relationship, as long as it was the correct one. She had thought to be married to Felton would bring her to that. His desertion had sent her into a spiral of despair. Surely this could herald something better.

  "Ahem?"

  Ahh, I have not answered.

  "Oh, yes, my lord.If you please. I have no wish to attend my father, unless to ensure he is really deceased, and I feel sure your physician will ascertain that so much better than I."

  "Then we will leave." He walked to the door and tapped a series of knocks. Ara waited, fascinate
d as a reply was tattooed, and with a nod, he turned to look at her.

  "We go another way. May I have your word you will do exactly as I say? Or do I truss you?"

  He is asking me? I am truly honored.

  He must have seen her expression, as he walked up to her and spun her around so fast she felt yet another ringlet slip from its pin.

  He held her so close that his body caressed her arse, and his cock demanded entrance to her anus. If there had been no clothes between them, Ana would have bent forward to give him easier access. As it was, she pushed back, to help him to touch so intimately.

  His breath feathered the fine hairs on the nape of her neck. As he put his arm around her, not only to fasten her tight to him, but also to nip her nipple, Ara knew she would deny him nothing. He had found her inner soul and she was his. She moaned.

  "My lord, I need, I want…ah…" He lifted her skirts and his finger began to flirt with her cunt. Ara knew it would take very little for her to lose all rationale and to fall over the cliff into a deep compelling orgasm. He touched her quim, and played her like the virtuoso he undoubtedly was.

  Her breath hitched and her honey pot swelled under his skillful ministrations. The tingling in her body intensified—it had been so long since any fingers other than her own had sought to arouse her thus—and she writhed against him, begging for more. With a low laugh, he inserted one, and then two fingers deep into her cunt and pushed.

  Ara screamed. "Yes, oh yes!"

  The sharp slap to her arse was pleasure as well as pain. "No, oh no." His voice, although mocking, was stern, and she responded instantly, drawing back from the brink.

  "Please," Ara said. Damn, I am now whimpering and begging like a child. "Please, my lord, it has been so long."

  "And the more you ask, the longer it will be." He removed his fingers and smoothed down her dress before he walked to the door.

  "Dammit, Ara, you are all temptation, and our first coupling must be in our rooms. Now I do not have to deny us their joys, I am impatient to see to what uses they have. We leave by my own entrance and walk to Dalrey House. It will take barely ten minutes, and it is unlikely we will be seen by anyone we would prefer not to notice us. Are you agreeable, or do I call for a carriage? It will take longer." He ran his fingers up her arm and she shivered. She needed him.

  "Whichever is fastest, my lord.

  "So? We walk?"

  What could she say? Her body was on fire, and she trembled with arousal at the thought of what might be in store. As she tried to smooth her tumbled hair, and compose herself, Ara knew there was only one answer possible.

  "Yes, my lord."

  Chapter Five

  Felton rapped on the door, and waited until he received a response. Satisfied, he returned to Ara, and put his hand to the small of her back. He dare not trust himself to touch her lower. He knew he would have no compunction not to fondle if he did.

  "Come, if we walk, I have no need to cover your eyes." He opened a door at the rear of the room. Concealed in the elaborately carved wooden wall, only he and a chosen trusted few knew of it.

  He could tell Ara had questions, but she wisely did not ask them. Or was it wise? Felton admitted to himself he would have liked a reason to spank her until she was rosy red, and bore the imprint of his hand. Such a sight, with one he now realized he was very fond of, would be more than acceptable and an interesting start to a session of mutual enjoyment. He wondered if he would ever confess the machinations of her late husband to her? Certainly not soon, he decided as he led the way down a well light, narrow staircase. The candles fluttered as they passed them and created a breeze. Their shadows shifted and reformed in their illuminations.

  "Are you all right, Ara?" he asked as they proceeded steadily downward. "The stairs are steep, but if you slip, I will be here to catch you."

  She laughed. "I have removed my shoes. I am unlikely to slip, but if I do, I thank you. I wonder, which bit will you hold on to first?" She paused. "To save me?"

  Felton chucked as he reached the bottom step and turned to offer her his hand. "To save you? Why, I’d grab you like this." He put his arms around her waist and lifted her down the last few steps. "To save myself?" He put her down in front of him, and turned her so they were face-to-face, chest to breast, cock to cunt. "I take each delicious part of you in turn, and imprint them on my memory." He couldn't help himself. He touched her lips with his, and at her indrawn breath of surprise, slipped his tongue inside, to swirl it around hers.

  She tasted of mint. To his delight her tongue reciprocated the dance and meshed with his. His cock swelled, and he could tell once more his pre cum was demanding attendance. Damn it, I must get her home. Even so, he still took his time to break the kiss.

  "Ara,"—his voice was ragged—"we must continue or I will have you here and our secret will no longer be that. We have but five minutes before a trusted servant will come to douse the candles. I have no wish for the house to catch fire, or to be found bollocks deep inside you. I am no exhibitionist. I leave that to others."

  "Like Jeremy," Ara said. He jumped and she chuckled. "He has those tendencies, not I. Indeed take me home and show me my future." Felton heard the satisfaction in her voice. He wondered how she knew her brother’s preferences and decided not to ask, although he filed the question away for another time.

  "Of course. Maybe you best slip on your shoes. It is a short walk now." He waited until she was once more wearing her footwear, and opened yet another door, this time into a long dark and gloomy passageway. Next to him Ara shivered.

  "Cold?" he asked.

  "A little," Ara said. "Although, I confess most of my tremors are not due to the air temperature."

  She continually surprised him with her quick wit and sexual innuendo. It augured well for their relationship. Felton had long been aware he could partner no retiring submissive. He needed to be pushed and prodded and to do the same in return. He stuck a match on a tinderbox left by the door on purpose, and lit a lantern. Once he could see clearly, he closed the door behind them.

  "Walk ahead," he said, command uppermost in his voice. "At the end you will see a door. Go through and wait for me." He handed her the lantern. "I will follow."

  She took the vessel without comment and walked a few steps before turning to look at him. "So you can look at my arse?"

  "That and to decide where best to place my hand when I spank you, redden you, and make you mine."

  Even in the low light he watched, fascinated, as the color flooded her skin, and her eyes widened and sparkled until they matched the jewels he hoped to shower her with.

  "Ah, Ara, that idea excites you?"

  She grinned, so mischievous, so full of life, his balls clenched. Walk faster, he pled mentally with her.

  "Oh, yes, my lord." Her tone softened in submission as she as she addressed him as her Dominant.

  "So be it. I look forward to a long and satisfying relati—marriage." He caught himself just in time. It was to be a relationship, but more than that. It would be forever.

  He waited and she looked at him, not speaking. The light dawned. "Ara, I feel we have a need to sort out some of the nuances of our relationship. I do not expect retorts, but I do expect replies. I know not of your life before now, but our relationship, our marriage, will be a new beginning. We will set our parameters this night, to our mutual satisfaction. Do you agree?"

  Her smile reminded him of a sunrise. Glorious and full of the hint of what was to come.

  “Oh, yes, my lord."

  And he was going to demand when in a scene she called him Sir. All this ‘my lording’ could get confusing.

  "Walk on now," Felton commanded. Ah, now I sound like I am talking to my horse. Luckily, Ara either did not realize or chose not to comment. Instead, she dipped her head in acquiescence before she turned around and walked away. With a flick of another match, Felton lit a second lantern and followed her. He admired her elegant carriage, and the way her arse clenched and relaxed with eac
h step.

  "Wait by the door" She stopped walking. He nodded. This was going well. "Open it and go inside to wait for me."

  As she did as he asked and exited the corridor, he wondered what her reaction would be to the room she’d find herself in momentarily. He had decorated it on a whim, more as a tease than for any specific reason. Had he somehow known Ara would be the perfect mate? The colors of the room were a perfect foil for her dark beauty. He quickened his steps, and reached the door in time to hear her gasp.

  He entered and used his foot to shut the door. It slammed with a thud, and Ara looked at him, her eyes worried.

  Felton leaned against the wall. "No need to look worried, my dear. 'Tis but a lazy way to secure the entrance. Be assured I will never secure your entrance in such a manner."

  Her eyes widened at his words and she laughed, all apprehension leaving her.

  "For that, my lord, I will be ever thankful."

  "I am glad. Be warned though, I will spank your quim, and redden it also," he continued as if he was discussing the entrée for dinner. In a way, he was. "I allow, to send you into that place where pleasure and pain are so entwined there is no degree of separation, has my cock primed and ready to fuck once my hands have given you that." Would his frank speak alarm her? Felton was aware he was pushing fast, testing her, and to a degree himself.

  "Here, my lord?" Her tone was one of mild interest. Only the rapid beat of the pulse in her neck gave away her arousal. He applauded her cleverness.

  "No, not here. This is to whet your appetite."

  "Ah." Ara walked in the direction of a series of ropes fixed onto the ceiling. "This?"

  He walked toward her, and set the ropes swaying with a touch of his hand.

  "A whim. Several years ago, I had recourse to visit–" He stopped speaking.

  "Visit?"

  "Another country, where I was introduced to the art of rope binding. This is not a true harness, but it reminds me of the delights of winding ropes and creating an enticing pattern on a soft white skin."