by Viola Morne
"I don't think so." Winter stood up and crossed over to Olivia. He grabbed her hand and started towards the door. "I've had enough company for today. Chadwick! Lady Wilde is leaving. Have her coach readied."
"Caine!" Olivia's voice cranked up in volume until it approached a shriek. The major slammed the door shut behind them. It bounced a little, slipping off the latch. Elinor could still hear Olivia. "You know what I want."
The major sighed. "What you always want: a good, hard fuck. I'm busy right now."
"But, darling." Elinor imagined Olivia placing a hand on Winter's chest, leaning into him with those great, showy breasts. "I'm so wet for you. I'll have you hard in a second."
"I said no, Olivia." The major's tone was clipped, cold. "I'm not your goddamned stud. Now be a good girl, and get your well-shaped ass out of my house."
"Very well." Olivia sounded sulky. "I'll go visit the Lindens. The twins must be at least eighteen by now."
"Excellent idea. They'll give you all the cock you can handle. Good day, my dear."
Elinor hear him storm off down the hall, shouting at Chadwick to hurry the hell up , and ready the Sinclair ' s ’ carriage as well.
"I've had all the fucking company I can stand." The major's voice dwindled as he stomped off , until Elinor could no t longer hear him. She peeped out of the window. Chadwick bowed to Lady Sinclair and her daughter. They looked at each other , before moving towards the graveled drive. Identical frowns marred their aggrieved countenances. Elinor tried to imagine the major married to the simpering Diana, but even her vivid imagination quailed at the challenge. Diana must have seen her at the window, because she glared up at her. Elinor smiled and waved her hand. Don't bother coming back . , You you can't have him.
CHAPTER SIX
Winter fidgeted on the hard church pew. Christ, the vicar was even more long-winded than usual. If he wasn't the squire, he wouldn't bother attending. Any man who'd experienced the carnage of a battlefield should wonder about the existence of a merciful God.
He glanced at Elinor as she sat beside him. She looked distractingly pretty in a modest green dress. The vicar kept stealing a glance at his ward , and . Winter frowned at him the vicar . He had better bloody well keep his eyes off her. The vicar noticed his expression, and his usual toneless delivery stumbled and paused. Somehow the "bells of Christ" became the "balls of Christ" in his garbled version. Cretin. Elinor giggled audibly, and the vicar turned beet red. He rushed over the remainder of his sermon, eyes fixed on the pulpit. Winter heard the congregation behind him, the rustling sound of people whispering. Were they talking about the hapless vicar, or Elinor's laughter?
The service ended soon after, and Winter escorted Elinor out of the church. The vicar shook his hand, but couldn't meet his eyes. He felt a flicker of pity. Elinor's gaze rested on the vicar demurely for a moment , before she looked away. He saw her lip quiver. This wouldn't do. He couldn't have his ward laughing in public at the vicar. This was his church , and his people. His frown returned. His naughty girl was in so much trouble.
He ushered her into the waiting carriage. "Well, what have you to say for yourself?"
Elinor attempted a look of innocence, which slipped off her face when she read his expression. She bit her lip. His gaze dropped to her mouth. How he longed to be the one biting those lovely lips.
"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to laugh out loud . , It it was just so funny..."
Well, it had been. But he'd warned her of his expectations regarding her conduct. His fingers flexed inside his gloves. He'd warned her.
"It seems I have forgotten an important step in your education. You require training in obedience and proper behavior. I am very displeased. We will speak more of this later, once I determine your punishment. Rest assured, my dear, that it will be severe."
Elinor gulped. She looked frightened, her big eyes wide, her lips trembling. His groin tightened. Christ, he needed a drink. He couldn't stomach another cup of tea. Just a small glass of brandy. No harm in that. The carriage continued on to Winterhill in silence.
#
Elinor glanced at the long case clock in the hall again. Almost the appointed time for her training session with the major. The last of the servants, given a free evening, had left the house. He must already be upstairs. She swallowed. What exactly did he mean by training? Winter had told her to meet him upstairs, in the mysterious second - floor room that was always kept locked.
Elinor stood up , and paced the length of the hall. She'd giggled during the vicar's sermon on Saturday , and shamed her guardian. But she had also immediately covered her laugh with a cough, and no one had noticed. Except for the major.
What really made Elinor nervous was how the major had given the servants time off , and the use of his carriages to travel into town. There was a small fair being held, and they had been excited to be allowed to attend. This left Elinor and her guardian alone, for the first time ever. She turned and paced again. She felt jittery, unsettled. A delicious anticipation tightened her loins. Would he touch her again?
The clock chimes made her jump. Seven o'clock, the appointed hour. Elinor took a deep breath , and started up the stairs. They were of dark oak, dipping slightly in the middle from centuries of use. The Winter family had been here before the house, and, she was sure, they'd still be here when the house had either changed beyond recognition , or fallen down. The major cared for his home, the estate and the people who lived there, more than he cared for anything else. Duty was bred into him, and he bore it well. He would always take care of his own, including her. She hoped that wouldn't change, that he'd forget about this idea of marrying her off. No one else knew her the way he did, knew what she wanted, what she craved. Her darkness met his, somewhere in the middle of pain and pleasure.
The door loomed out of the dimness in the upper hall. The rooms in this wing were mainly used for guests, though the major hadn't held a house party for some years. The other wing, which stretched on the right from the staircase, housed the nursery, children's bedrooms and rooms for the nursery staff. She had a little room there when she'd first come to Winterhill.
Her palms were slick with sweat. Elinor took a breath and knocked. She waited a moment, and the major opened the door. She peered up into his face, trying to gauge his mood. Her stomach fell. His expression was stern--the strict disciplinarian , and not the indulgent guardian. He opened the door wider, and she walked in. It wasn't a large room. The walls were whitewashed , and fitted with a row of cupboards along one wall. It was sparsely furnished with a desk, a couple of straight chairs , and an odd - looking bench of dark wood, waist-high, with a narrow padded seat. It resembled the horse they used for gymnastics at her Swiss school. She took it all in. The door closed behind her. The room was very quiet. Even the usual outdoors sounds found in the country were silenced.
Elinor looked at the major.
"Turn around." She turned and faced the wall. She felt his breath stir her hair. His fingers grazed her back. He unbuttoned her frock, slowly, increasing her anticipation. He pushed down the shoulders of her gown to the waist , and then down to her ankles. Winter took her hand and helped her step out of the dress. Her stays followed, until she stood dressed only in her thin chemise, nearly transparent in the evening light that which slanted through the window. His hands fell to her shoulders, smoothed along her arms and then fell to her waist. He followed the curve of her hips, down to her legs, until he grasped the edges of the garment. He slowly pulled it up, the soft fabric dragging against her skin. She had never been completely naked in front of him before. She trembled.
Winter stopped pulling on the cloth. "Are you cold?" His voice was curiously rough. Perhaps he was as moved by these encounters as she was. She shook her head. Cold was the last thing she was. Heat coiled within her, a twisting serpent of perverse desires.
Winter removed the chemise entirely. His breath was hot on her skin. His fingers travelled along her spine, dropped to her bottom. He cupped her buttocks in both h
ands , and squeezed. She gasped. He took her hand , and led her over to the bench. She looked at him over her shoulder. Did he want her to lie on it? It seemed he did. Winter lifted her by the waist , and sat her down on the padded leather top , before urging her onto her back.
The leather top was only the width of her body. Her arms dangled over the side. The major attached leather restraints to both her wrists, on either side of the bench. He pulled a small pillow from a cupboard and tucked it under her lower back.
"Open your legs."
Elinor let her legs fall open. The pillow pushed her bottom half upwards. She was completely exposed. Her pulse beat rapidly. The major wrapped a length of leather around her thigh, pulling it taut, before he attached it to a the ring on the side of the horse. He did the same on the other side. She couldn't move, her legs spread wide, her feminine parts open to his gaze.
"Very nice."
She ached with anticipation. What did he plan to do with her, now that he had her trussed up like a Christmas goose? The major turned to the cupboard again. Elinor lifted her head. Over his shoulder, she saw shelves and drawers. Winter pulled something down, a small jar. He placed it between her legs and bent over. His hair brushed along her belly.
The surface beneath her legs dropped away. The major stood between them, inches away from her rapidly moistening center. He opened the jar and dipped his fingers in. It was a salve of some sort. He worked it over his index and middle finger. Heavens above. Winter leaned over her. She couldn't see what he was doing. Then she felt something cool on her feminine center. A hard finger stroked along her entrance, smoothing the salve over her skin. He pushed her thighs apart, even wider, till she felt the strain in her muscles. He pushed a finger inside her. She gasped. It was shocking, invasive, and she wanted more. His finger circled her entrance, probing.
"I'm glad you were truthful with me, Elinor." Winter's finger pushed in a little deeper. God. "You are a virgin. I can feel your membrane." He bent even lower. "I can see it. Good. Your suitors will require a virgin, you know. Let's see if you can take another finger." He left her completely and then returned, wider than before, gently pushing inside. He pumped a few times, and then she felt his thrust eased by her essence. She heard his fingers moving in and out, the slickness of her wet flesh. She moaned, and his fingers withdrew.
"I think that's enough for now. Any pleasure you may feel during our training will be given by me, when I choose." Winter thrust his fingers back in, deeper, and she cried out. "Answer me."
"Yes, yes, I understand." He withdrew, wiping his fingers on the inside of her thigh. "Let's get you turned over." Winter undid all the strapping and helped her turn over. He refastened her wrists, then bent to the side of the bench. He grasped one leg, bent her at the knee and pressed her calf onto a narrow support which jutted from the side of the bench. He strapped her calf to the support, and then t hen he did the same on the other side. He moved behind her and she couldn't see him anymore, could only wait, trembling, for him to decide what to visit on her next.
Elinor felt his finger again. This time, he probed her bottom hole. With his other hand, he pressed on her lower back. She understood the unspoken message , and fought to relax her muscles, to allow him entrance.
"Very good." His finger pressed inside, its passage eased by the salve. It didn't burn as much as the first time. He wiggled the finger , deep inside her. Fire sparked along her skin. He withdrew , and then pushed two fingers into her hole. This was more difficult , and more painful. He stopped moving, waited, until she relaxed again, and he pressed in, and stayed in, without moving. Her buttocks clenched around his fingers. He started thrusting then. She could feel herself softening, opening to him, her body seeking its pleasure without her conscious direction. He pulled out, and she felt bereft.
She heard him walk away and then return. Something cold and hard pressed against her now. Her bottom, opened by his fingers, accepted it more readily , and he slowly pushed the thing inside. It was a little wider than his fingers, but unyielding. Winter pushed it in deeper. When he stopped, she lay there, beyond shame, all sensation focused on the object embedded within her.
"How does it feel, Elinor?'
She opened her lips, but no sound came out. She was overwhelmed , by the sensations in her body, his mastery of her and how she was open to him, open in every way.
"Strange, it feels strange." It was an effort to move her lips, to produce coherent sound.
"What else?"
How to explain the complex flow of emotions? She felt...mastered, as if his fingers, this hard object within her, was the key to her submission to his will. It felt wrong, wicked, but she was helpless to resist his control.
"It feels...as if you own me."
He sighed, his breath hot against her back. Again, he walked away.
"You've done very well today, Elinor. I am proud of you. There remains the matter of your punishment. Why are you being disciplined?"
She didn't want to be spanked or whipped. She wanted to lie here in this dreamy world and retreat from everything. Elinor smelled the leather seconds before it snapped on her buttocks. She tried to lift up, to escape the strap, but the restraints prevented her.
"Why, Elinor?"
"Because I laughed in church?"
"You laughed at the vicar, while I sat in the pew beside you. That was unacceptable. I have my standing in the community to maintain, and your insolence undermined me."
"I'm sorry, sir. It was thoughtless, and, and unkind."
"Very well. Twenty with the strap, and ten five with the cane, I think."
"No!"
Winter's voice was very quiet. "I beg your pardon?"
Elinor heaved a sigh. "Nothing, sir."
His hand soothed her bottom, and she melted into his touch. Then he stepped away and she heard the strap slash air before it fell on her flash. She jerked, forced herself to remain still. The lick of the strap was fire upon her flesh. She counted off in her head. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty. A tear rolled down her cheek. Her bottom smarted.
The major ran his hand along her hot skin. "Lovely." Then she heard him walk away again, the sound of the cupboard opening. He walked back towards her . She heard the swish of the cane and then it landed, square across both cheeks, jolting that hard thing that still rested deep inside her. Sweet Christ in heaven. Another stroke and another. She cried in earnest then, sobs shaking her frame. The major paused for a moment only, and let the remaining seven strokes fall on her shrinking skin. The world was a black fog of pain. Dimly, she felt him free her arms and legs. He clasped her waist and pulled her across the bench. Her feet hit the floor. She couldn't stand up. The major lifted her from the bench, waiting until she gained control of her body once more. Then he walked her across the floor and forced her to kneel. He pulled up one of the chairs and sat in front of her. Elinor could only stare at him. She wavered on her knees, and Winter pulled her between his legs. He pushed her hair back from her face , and touched a gentle finger to her jaw.
"Open your mouth, Elinor."
She let her lips fall open. The pain and the submission rendered conscious thought nearly impossible. There was only sensation.
"Wider." The major undid his breeches , and pulled out his member. It was even bigger than she remembered, swollen and weeping. His hand was firm on the back of her neck, and she bent to take him in her mouth. The skin was surprisingly soft, hot against her tongue. He tasted salty, a primal essence that made her womb clench in sudden desire. Curious, she explored him with her tongue. She licked over the top of his member , and then underneath where a thick vein ran down his length. He groaned , and pumped into her mouth. He slid over her teeth, and she opened wider.
"Suck me, Elinor," Winter said, his voice hoarse.
She tightened her lips around him, suckling him hard. More fluid seeped into her mouth, and she swallowed. Winter pushed into her, his hands holding her head as she pleasured him. He pulled her forward until her lips almost touched the dark go
ld hair curled around the base. He swelled even more, and then he spurted into her mouth, and she drank him down. Finally, he sighed and sat back. She fell on her heels, wincing at the pressure on her welted buttocks. The major tucked his member away , and re-buttoned his breeches. She dared a glance. The severe look was gone. He chucked her chin.
"Are you sure you never did that before?"
Elinor shook her head. He leaned forward to wipe a drop of his seed away. He pulled her, unresisting over his lap. He pressed his fingers into her.
"So wet, even after all that. Pity you won't be getting any relief tonight." Winter pulled the object from her bottom, and she sighed. He fondled her for several minutes, dipping into her with fingers that teased, until she throbbed with need.
"Poor little cabbage. So needy. This little pussy will have to wait for its pleasure." Winter pushed her off gently, and she fell to her knees. He bent and scooped her up , and carried her to her room. He tucked her into bed. Winter drew a finger through her wetness again , and chuckled when she moaned.
"None of that, miss. Time for bed, and no touching what's mine. Obey me in this, Elinor or your next training session will be even harder."
She nodded, huddled under the covers. Every part of her ached and pulsed with equal fervor.
The major dropped a kiss on her hair. "A very successful session. I think we'll have to do this every week, don't you?"
#
Winter returned from his morning ride , to find the hall littered with luggage. What in hell was going on? He opened his mouth to bellow for Chadwick, when Elinor walked down the stairs, pulling on her gloves. She was dressed for traveling. Elinor's face was pale, her lips set. Christ, was she leaving him?
"Where are you going?"
She reached the bottom step. "I have decided to do as you wish. I'm going to stay with Cousin Cecilia Cecelia in London."