Captivated

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Captivated Page 23

by Bertrice Small

Her body stretched and pushed and begged; the leather pulled, shaped, contoured her woman flesh to give him the utmost access to her. Again and again, he inserted his tongue into her cleft, seeking the taste ofher.

  For one unsettling moment, she felt as if she were solely connected to him, just there, just like that. Her knees went weak and almost boneless from the sheer insensate pleasure of it.

  He took it all and she was helpless to stop him, utterly without control, totally in his power to give her that with his succulent carnal kisses.

  There, and there, and there…

  There was something too decadent, too erotic, and too dark about all those deep tongue-tied kisses.

  As if he thought they could make her want him.

  No, she could never never want him. But she could learn to live with and yearn for those unspeakable sensations he evoked in her.

  She could learn to spread her legs for him whenever he commanded her.

  She could learn to be the best whore and wife in the whole of St. Faubonne Parish.

  But want him? Love him? No.Never.

  Never…

  Her nerve endings quivered and her body quickened as his tongue caught the edge of her shimmering pleasure.

  …ever…

  What was he doing? What was he doing?

  Her body jolted as he touched some sacred secret part of her she did not know existed

  …ever

  and she slid downward into that dark erotic place and tumbled headlong into a waterfall of silver that broke ever so gently over his tongue.

  Ripe… ready… and resisting him already

  He held her hips tightly as he pushed against her, pulling every nuance of sensation from her body before he let her pull away.

  And pull she did. As if she couldn't get away from him fast enough. What more could be said?

  Thathe wasn't sated? Not nearly.

  That this was her first brush with carnal pleasure? So likely.

  That now she would offer herself willingly? Not hardly.

  He made a disgusted sound and eased away from her tempting flesh. It was all he could do to keep himself from plunging into her.

  She was there for the taking, her bottom tilted at exactly the angle to accommodate his roaring man flesh.

  All he had to do…

  All he had to do

  "Take me," she whispered, hoping against hope as she sensed his agonized indecision and eyed his towering erection.

  "I think not, my fawn. I think the taste of you will sate me and prepare me for another day," he murmured, clenching his hands into fists to keep from running them all over her rounded buttocks.

  Instead, he forced himself to climb over her and off of the bed.

  "Such a pretty sight, my fawn, in the aftermath of your pleasure."

  "Is that what it was?" she muttered, unable to keep the thread of sarcasm out of her voice.

  "I see," he said stonily, his body flinching at the thought she might have experienced this already, with Lenoir. He hadn't even considered thatthat Lenoir might have tutored her inall the earthly delights save onebecause he had been too caught up in the heady discovery that she was still a virgin.

  So there was still much for her to learnand for him, he could see that now. A man could take nothing for granted, especially when his penis was aching for release and leading him around by the nose.

  "What do you see?" she demanded, alerted instantly by that tone in his voice. That tone meant his displeasure. And that he would prolong the inevitable.

  She shuddered. She didn't know why she kept taunting him like that. It would only take that one moment of acquiescence to give him what he said he wanted. An actress could do it. A whore.

  Surely she, even in her innocence…

  Not so innocent now

  Her breath caught.She knew pleasure now.

  She knew the pleasure of feeling something between her legs.

  She knew a man's carnal kiss.

  She knew the power of a woman's nudity.

  Innocent no more…

  She felt as if he were reading everything in her eyes. "What do you see?" she asked again, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.

  "A scared little fawn," he said, his voice deceptively soft. "A fawn who is still hiding from her fate."

  She made a sound. She wondered how far she could push him. She wondered if she wanted to try. "And you're a man denying his. Look at you. You'd rather walk around with that pole sticking out than stick it into me. So either you're a coward, you don't want to for some reason, or maybemaybe your heart and mind are on someone else, too…"

  She faltered at the expression in his eyes.Oh, God… did I really say that to him? What is wrongwith me?

  He could feel himself turning stone cold.

  Little bitch. Who could have dreamt the fawn's teeth were so sharp? Goddamn whore witch bitch…

  … he felt like showing her. He felt like jamming into her tight, wet cleft just to shut her taunting mouth. He felt like ramrodding his way right to the mouth of her womb and blasting his seed into the very core of her.

  But… but

  He wanted her prostrate. He wanted her shuddering with need. He wanted her crawling, at his feet, begging him for what he alone could do to her.

  Until she learned that lesson, there wasn't a thing in the world she could do to tempt him.

  And he'd keep his unruly penis at bay as well; and she would never know what that restraint cost him.

  Her body betrayed her. During the night, as she restlessly tossed and turned, she felt herself stretching toward the phantom lover who had pulled such pleasure from her body.

  Him!

  Never him…

  How could she forgive him for all he had done?

  Done? Done? What have I done, he would say. I've admired you. I've been patient with you. I haven't forced myself on you. And I've given you pleasure. Tell me what I've "done"…

  She moaned and rolled over again. She could write a litany of what he'ddone, and none of it would make sense; no one would believe it.

  Gerard would believe it…

  She choked back a groan.Dear darling Gerard… if he knew that monster kept her naked, kept her in restraints when it suited him, made her wear a thrall collar, forced her to display her sex for him, licked honey from her vessel, and made her writhe with pleasure… what would he do? What could he do?

  How did it sound?

  Insane.

  How did she sound?

  Ungrateful.

  GodWHAT?!! Ungrateful?!

  She sat bolt upright, her body covered with a fine sheen of sweatfrom the unremitting thick sultry heat, or from her thoughts, desires, dreams?

  She didn't want to know, didn't want to think. The collar, the straps, irritated her skin, as she supposed they were meant to do, to remind her of who owned her, and to whom she was beholden.

  She swung her legs over the bed and sat for a moment, contemplating the moonlight filtering in through the window.

  She could jump out the window and be beholden no more.

  … ungrateful!!…

  She wrapped her arms around her midriff.

  The heat was suffocating. And there wasn't a window open anywhere except the transom between the bathing room and the hallway.

  He trusted her not.

  She didn't even trust herself.

  …ungrateful!!!… that he had given her pleasure and made her feel like a trussed-up turkey… Oh, no, she wasn't going to give in to that; the pleasure was not going to supersede the indignity.

  She wouldn't let it.

  No matter how it sounded.

  To her.

  To Gerard…

  She fell on her back.If only he had taken me…

  If only he would come nowand get it over with…

  He couldn't take much more of this. Or maybe he could, if he found a willing body to poke while he waited for his high-and-mighty wife to come around.

  Plenty of willing bodies between
St. Faubonne and New Orleanshe could just see them, sassy, saucy vixens beckoning in the night, never hesitant to slide a hand up a man's pole to gauge the worth of what they had to sell.

  He could settle for that, he could. A little sport, a quick spurt to relieve the tension and the ache, a wink and a kiss and he could be out the door, and nobody hurt.

  But nobody with nipples like hers…

  nobody as naked and luscious-tasting as her…

  … nobody

  Hell.

  Maybe he'd have her for breakfast, he was that ravenous to possess her.

  Maybe not, he thought, as he caught the expression on her face as Evie escorted her into the room.

  A man couldn't ease up for a moment.

  "Sit there," he ordered, pointing to an upholstered rectangular bench. "Straddle it. Eviebring over the little table, let her eat something, thank you."

  "And coffee, Master Court?"

  "Yes, thank you. Stay by for a moment, please."

  "I'm not hungry," Drue said. "I want this damned collar off my neck."

  "Eat, little fawn, you need your strength."

  "I need an open window, a fan, and some clothes," she said in a petulant tone.

  "She won't learn, will she," Court muttered, taking a biscuit and slathering it with butter and jam. "Well, I need to keep up my strength, little fawn. You almost sap the life out of me with your stubbornness."

  "I hope so," she hissed.

  "But not quite. As you can plainly see."

  She saw. His whole body had bolted to life the moment she appeared on the threshold. And it just kept getting longer and stronger and harder as she stared at it.

  An amazing thing

  She bit into a biscuit with a ferocity that made him quiver.

  Interesting…

  He sipped his coffee and pretended nothing had happened.

  They could be any couple sharing breakfast, except that she was naked, wearing a thrall collar, and sat across a bench with her legs spread and her husband's eyes devouring her as greedily as he did his food.

  "Evie."

  "Master?"

  "Do her hands now."

  "What…?!" She was holding a cup and a biscuit, but Evie paid no mind; she grasped each wrist, and as the cup and biscuit fell to the floor, Evie firmly pulled her hands behind her and wound a satin tie around them.

  "Thank you, Evie."

  He watched through hooded eyes as Evie left them, firmly closing the door behind her; and then he turned his attention to Drue.

  "Yes…" he murmured. "Perfect."

  Perfect the way her body arched and her breasts thrust forward because of her bound hands. Perfect how she had to press down against the fabric of the bench to keep her balance and her legs apart the way he liked them.

  Perfect because her nipples were tight and hard with suppressed excitement and her eyes alive with curiosity and fury both at what he was going to do.

  Maybe she knew.

  Maybe she didn't.

  He wanted those nipples.

  He wantedher.

  He dipped a finger in the jam pot, and pressed it against her nipple and began swirling it around the hard pleasure point.

  She jerked away.

  "Oh, no, little fawn. I will have this, too. I thought about it all night. Imagine it: me fantasizing about covering your nipples with jam so I can suck them.Hold still…!" as she wrenched away from him.

  He leapt up and straddled the bench behind her, holding her tightly against his hot hard chest with one hand, and reaching over to the jam pot with the other.

  She wanted to stop him; she was desperate to stop him as he rubbed her nipples, first one, then the other pointed peak, with the soft, sticky jam.

  She had her hands. She had the weapon, the long bone of an erection sliding up her buttocks. She could… she couldsqueeze him or pinch him or something

  She groaned involuntarily as his fingers made magic on her breasts.

  That wasn't supposed to happen, it wasn't… she didn't want to feel them swirling, caressing, squeezing her nipplesthe sensation spiraled right down between her legs and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  Her body, her traitorous, pleasure-seeking body, squirmed in delight, and it curved at an impossible angle to demand more of those tantalizing beguiling fingers on her breasts.

  Her head lolled against his shoulder, and she moaned over and over, "No, no, no, no…"

  And he murmured in concert with her protests, "Yes, yes, yes, yes…"

  And he grew bigger and tighter with every moan, spurting hotter, harder, more insistent with every "no" she uttered.

  "I can't, I can't, I can't…"

  "You can…"

  "I don't want to"

  "You do…"

  "Oh, God, Courtdon't…" as the feeling feeding from her nipples swelled and expanded and then streamed and funneled between her legs.

  "Yes," he whispered into her ear, "give it to me… give me, give melet it… let it… come"

  "No-o-o-o-o-o…"she groaned as she bent double and ground her hips into the bench. "No-o-o-o-o-o-o…" as his relentless fingers kept at her nipples until she could hardly stand the feel of them, and she pulled and pushed at them and undulated her body and grasped at his penis and whimpered in the back of her throat as her body convulsed and pure molten pleasure coursed through her veins and puddled between her legs and then detonated in the writhing heat of her surrender.

  "No…" she whispered, her fingers flexing against the inflexible length and hardness of him, but it was too late. Too late for her. Too late for him.

  He spumed like a geyser beneath his trousers, his manhood so overheated he thought he would die from the pleasure.

  It took momentsit felt like hoursto regain some semblance of sanity, and when he finally did, he gently pulled the satin tie from her wrists where she still grasped him, and slowly, tentatively, he wrapped himself around her.

  She held herself stiffly away, still as dazzled and bewildered as he. He was sure of it. It was time to gentle the fawn. He had all the time in the world to wait; and soon, slowly, reluctantly, she settled back into his heat.

  It was late afternoon. He had sent Drue upstairs for a long, luxurious bath, and he had had Evie unlock the collar, and he had brushed his lips against her irritated skin.

  He liked the fact she had shuddered at his touch. There was nothing about her that didn't arouse him, and now that she had capitulated to him, he was very willing to accede to her demands. A bath. A maid to wield a fan in the suffocating heat. The removal of the collar.

  The knowledge in her eyes that he would possess her soon.

  She could not, in the throes of that convulsive climax, have been thinking of anyone else buthim.

  She made his blood run hot. She made him boil. She made him hard just at the thought of her.

  He was hard for her now, his penis restless, his blood throbbing with the primitive need to claim her in the most elemental way.

  Lord Almighty… he couldn't keep his mind off her…he never got to suck her nipples…

  Tonight…

  The word thrummed through his blood. No more waiting. No more wanting and aching. He was tired of waiting for what was his; tired of fighting his body, tired of the battle for hers.

  Tonight…

  His penis spurted at the thought; ruthlessly, he got it under control.

  A man didn't spend his seed profligately when he had a woman like Drue to service him. He planned to keep her pinned to the bed for a week, a month, a year, naked and begging for his sex between her legs.

  Tonight…

  He liked the fact that there was a factor of time in his decision to finally give her what she wanted. Always, the anticipation made the thought of the act seem even more deeply erotic.

  They had so much time…

  And he would take his time once penetration was complete. And he even looked forward to that moment, when all barriers between them ceased to exist and she could
encompass all of him, tight and to the hilt.

  He made a hissing sound as he imagined it. His manhood ached for it, tellingly, even now.

  He shuddered at the force of his craving for it.

  Noman should ever be that whipsawed by any woman…

  Well, damn, he wasn't in love with her; he just wanted her, naked and writhing beneath his body…

  " Master Court "

  …and screaming for more

  " Master Court "

  Damned insistent voice jolting him out of his fantasies.

  "What is it, Evie?"

  "I got something here you want to see."

  "Come in then," he said gruffly, shifting in his chair. "What is it?"

  She handed him an envelope. "A man done give that to Louisa, and she come to me."

  "I see." He turned it over in his fingers. No identifying marks. No address. "And who was Louisa to give it to?"

  "The mistress."

  The words fell like stones. "Thank you, Evie. You can go."

  He waited until she had exited the room. And waited still longer, turning the missive over and over, as if the blankness of it would tell him something and he wouldn't have to open the envelope at all.

  Three days… not even a week before the betrayals set inhe was a fool, and sheoh, she…

  Slowly, he got up and went into his office and closed the door. Slowly, so as not to damage the flap, he slit open the envelope and took out the letter, even knowing what it probably contained.

  He had to know. Even though he knew.

  My dearest, darling Pet,

  I can't stand it anymore. Three days knowing you have been in the arms of that monster and I'm half crazed with anger and jealousy. There must be a way. I cannot bear that he should have you. I cannot bear that I can't.

  Remember the things we said to each other? The promises we made? There are other places, other possibilities. You don't have to stay with him. You can come to me. Your father will not suffer, I promise. I swear it. If that is the only reason you consented to this abomination of a marriage, you must believe me. Summerville can never harm your father. On my life I swear it.

  Leave him. Marry me, as we had planned from the beginning. Don't stay a moment longer in that hell house. Tell me I may still hope to possess you, my darling love. Tell me you haven't forgotten everything we did, everything we were to each other.

  She who delivers this letter to you has promised to be our go-between. Please, please, please answer my prayers, give me hope. Send your lover the one response that will open the gates of heavenfor him and for you.

 

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