by Zoe Blake
“Oh god! It hurts! Stop! I beg of you, stop!”
Lucian watched as her bottom was forced to swallow his thick shaft. Watched as the skin around her tight hole whitened as it was stretched taut.
Thrusting forward, he buried his cock to the base inside her resisting body. Against her will, her body accepted the full, ten inches.
Pulling his hips back, he ruthlessly thrust again. Pounding into her delicate flesh.
Corinne screamed in pain as she fisted the bed covers. Her cries for him to stop went unheeded.
The cream frothed along his shaft as he fucked her bottom in earnest. The tight clamping of her muscles around the shaft spurred him on.
She was his.
His possession.
His property.
His.
He wanted…no needed…her complete submission. Needed to bend her to his will.
Lucian thrust harder.
When he could feel his balls tighten, when the delicious pressure began to build, when the roar of his release was imminent, he stilled. With extreme discipline, he pulled his cock free of the warm, tight confines of her body. Grabbing her hips, he swung Corinne’s body around till she faced him on her knees. Fisting her hair, he tilted her head far back, taking a sick pleasure in the sight of her tear-stained face.
“Open your mouth.”
Corinne’s face crumpled as she realized what he was asking. Shaking her head as much as his grip would allow, she begged. “Please, Papa. Don’t make me do it.”
Gripping his cream coated shaft with his free hand, he brushed the tip against her lower lip.
“Open. Your. Mouth.”
With apparent reluctance, she obeyed. Opening her cherry pink lips…slightly.
“Wider.”
The moment she obeyed, he thrust forward.
“Swallow it whole, just like Papa taught you in the carriage.”
Her tongue was pressed against the bottom of her mouth. Her teeth biting into the underside as his shaft slid deep into her mouth, pressing against the back of her throat.
She began to struggle but his grip was too strong. Holding onto her hair tightly, he grabbed her jaw and forced it down. Opening her mouth painfully wide, he began to slowly thrust, relishing in the feel of her tongue as it swirled the underside. The press of her tight throat as the tip teased its entrance.
“That’s it, little one. Lick Papa’s cock clean. Taste your own bottom.”
Corinne whimpered as her lips were stretched wide around the thick shaft.
It only took the sweet heat of her mouth and the swish of her tongue to bring on his powerful release.
With a shout, he released his own cream onto her tongue.
“Swallow it.”
Corinne swallowed his release.
“Good kitty.”
Releasing her hair, he let her fall back onto the bed covers as he turned back to the platter. Picking up the pitcher of cream, he commanded. “Lie on your back. Open your legs.”
Evidently worn from struggling with him, knowing her bottom was sore, he was not surprised when Corinne had no will to resist. She fell onto her back, her thighs open.
Lucian ran two fingers down the smooth skin of her shaved cunny. “It looks like my little kitty has some cream of her own.” He grinned as the evidence of her own arousal glistened on his fingertips in the candlelight.
Corinne turned her head away. Unwilling or unable to face the shame of her own traitorous body. He had used her. Caused her pain. Humiliated her. And yet…there was something about his dark dominance. The way he talked to her so gently but touched her so roughly called to something dark, deep within her. A hidden need. A need to please him despite his harsh treatment…perhaps because of it.
She watched through hooded eyes as he approached her with the pitcher of cream
Corinne moaned. She could not take having his cock in her bottom again. The feeling of stretched fullness. The cramping as her body fought the intrusion. It was too much.
“Please. No more, Papa.”
“Hush, my little kitten. It is now your turn to be pleasured.”
He tipped the pitcher above her cunny. Thick cream poured over her heated skin.
Lucian knelt before her open thighs. She raised up on her elbows, fascinated by the sight. Using his fingers, he gently eased open the folds of her cunny. The tip of his strong tongue lapped between the seam.
Looking at her over the length of her body, his dark eyes lit with desire, he murmured, “Such sweet cream,” before circling her clit, tasting her.
She was lost. Her heathen god had beaten her with his own form of worship.
She was his caged bird.
His little kitten.
His prey.
His captured prey.
Chapter 8
Corinne twirled about the nursery. For the first time in a fortnight, she was permitted to wear long skirts. She laughed as the fabric spun about her hips then wrapped around her legs.
“Cease your dawdling about. We have a schedule to keep,” scolded Nanny gently even as she smiled at her charge’s antics.
“Yes, Nanny.”
Corinne dutifully perched on her stool as Nanny dressed her hair, taming it into two braids whose ends gently curled on the top of her shoulders. As she patiently sat having her curls pulled and teased, Corinne stared at the various pictures which now adorned the walls of the nursery. Her focus always returning to the one from several nights ago when she was dressed as a kitten. The first photograph was familiar. She recalled the moment he took it with a shiver. It was the second that always captured her attention. Unlike all the other photos, Papa had taken this one when she was unaware. Usually he would force her to look into the camera because he wanted to capture her look of seduced capitulation, but this one was different. She was lying curled up in a ball in the center of his bed. He had just pleasured her after forcefully taking her bottom.
What startled Corinne was her look of sated satisfaction. She looked just like the kitten she portrayed. Pleasured and content. Her eyes were closed, but not even Corinne could deny the slight smile which played about her lips. The image startled and mortified her. How was it even possible? To feel pleasure after such pain? To sleep safe and secure in his presence after feeling such fear? If there was not proof before her very eyes, she would have denied it. Denied what she secretly knew. Her husband, her master, Lord Lucian…Papa…both repelled and fascinated her.
“There now! All prettied for your papa. Hurry up now, child. I want you to follow the footman down to the mews. Be good and don’t keep your papa waiting.”
Corinne nodded to Nanny as she shyly followed the footman out of the nursery.
With the exception of her frightened flight a few days ago, she had rarely been out of the nursery and never on the grounds of the castle. She was taken aback by the chilled bit of wind which whipped about her cheeks as they walked across the stone courtyard to the mews.
The mews were a massive building, reaching several stories up to the sky. She could hear the shriek and call of birds as they came closer.
The footman opened the heavy wooden door with a little difficulty. “His grace is inside, miss.”
Corinne hesitantly entered the dark, damp interior. It smelled like fresh grass and a curious mustiness.
There was a startling shriek as a large bird swooped near her head. She cried out in fright throwing her arms up over her head as she fell back against the closed door.
“Dammit.” The angry curse came from somewhere deep in the shadowed interior.
Strong arms wrapped her tense form and lifted her against a large, solid chest. Corinne could feel the rush of cold air as the door behind her was flung open wide. She was carried back out into the cold sunshine.
The moment her booted feet touched the ground, her arms were wrenched away from her face.
Obsidian eyes clouded with concern met her gaze.
Lucian’s warm hands engulfed her face. “Are you hurt?�
�
Corinne could only stare…startled by his concern.
“Sweetheart, are you hurt? Did the bird peck you?”
She shook her head no, still incapable of speech.
Refusing to take her word for it, Lucian turned her about, closely examining her scalp, neck and shoulders.
“Damn fool, footman. I’ll see the man turned out for his rashness. You should have never been permitted inside the mews.”
“I’m sorry!” squeaked Corinne, unsure if his anger was also directed at her.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, little one. You were merely doing as you were told,” assured Lucian as he chucked her on the chin. “So has that bird frightened you too badly or would you still like to see the surprise I have for you?”
Having never seen him in such a genial mood, Corinne was reluctant to leave. “No, Papa. I’m fine.”
“Good girl. Wait here.”
He disappeared back into the mews. Moments later he returned with a massive bird perched on his right forearm.
Corinne’s mouth opened in shock as she took a few steps back.
“Do not be afraid. I have him tethered.”
Lucian stood there looking every inch the master of his domain. Dressed informally in a loose, white linen shirt which was opened at the neck and tight, buff riding breeches with polished black knee boots, he looked handsome and powerful. The large bird tethered to his arm just completed the domineering look.
“Are you familiar with falconry?”
Corinne nodded her head, still staring in awe at both him and the bird. “Yes,” she shyly answered. “William Shakespeare was a falconer and made frequent references to it in his plays.”
Lucian smiled his approval. “I am impressed. I would not have thought the nuns would have allowed you to read such a salacious thing as a Shakespearean play.”
Corinne’s cheeks flamed. “They were not aware. A book of his plays arrived in a shipment of books I was tasked with cataloging. I…I spirited it away so that I might read it.”
“You mean you stole it.”
Corinne lowered her eyes as she nodded yes.
Lucian laughed with pleasure. “So I see your mischievous disobedience is not exclusive to me.”
Corinne could feel her cheeks glow even hotter.
“For then she never looks up her lure. Another way I have to man my haggard. To make her come and know her keeper’s call,” quoted Lucian as his gaze held her entranced one.
Corinne swallowed, affected by the intense impact of both his eyes and his meaningful words. “Taming of the Shrew,” she offered.
“My personal favorite of all the Bard’s plays,” said Lucian with a quirk of his full lips.
His look, filled with dark seductive promise, brought to mind a quote from her favorite play. These violent delights have violent ends. And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume.
“Romeo and Juliet,” murmured Lucian, startling Corinne. She did not realize she had said the words aloud. “Romeo was a boy. A coward to assume something as slight as death would separate him from what he wanted...from the woman he loved.”
The air between them became charged as if he had somehow harnessed the power of lightning and thunder with his words.
“Come. Before we lose the light.”
Corinne placed her small hand in his larger, strong one and followed him out of the castle courtyard.
The terrain surrounding his castle was as wild and untamed as the man himself. Rocky cliffs with sheer drops guarded the dark churning sea below. Moss covered rocks with sprouts of heather and grass stretched inland as far as her eye could see.
Gesturing to the falcon on his arm, Lucian said, “This is Artemis.”
“The goddess of the hunt,” offered Corinne.
“Very good. Another stolen book I assume?”
Corinne blushed in response.
“She is a peregrine falcon. I have trained her from a hatchling.”
Corinne watched as he gently stroked the breast of the large bird. It had large blue-gray wings with a dull yellow breast dotted with black. On its head, covering her eyes, was a bright red hood topped with a white feather. Vicious looking black talons clung to the thick, leather glove covering Lucian’s hand and forearm. Was it any wonder Papa had managed to tame such a wild beast?
“There have been falcons and other birds of prey at Ebonhurst Castle since it was built in the Middle Ages. They even grace our family crest.”
Corinne remembered the signet ring which often fascinated her. The engraved image of a large bird crushing a rose. An innocent rose trapped within its deadly clutch.
“Would you like to pet her?”
With his presence giving her confidence, Corinne reached out a crooked finger and stroked the bird’s breast with her knuckle. The feathers were smooth and downy soft. She could feel its rapid heartbeat.
She looked up to see him watching her, a strange light in his eye. It was almost as if he were seeing her for the first time.
The moment passed so quickly Corinne wondered if she’d imagined it.
“The tethers are called jesses.” The leather encircled his hand as he pressed the tether down with his thumb near the bird’s lethal talons. “When you place your hand just so, the bird is considered ‘under your thumb’,” he explained with intent.
They walked along the cliffs as the wind teased her long skirt. The air tasted salty and fresh. She hadn’t realized how much she missed walking outside. While at the abbey, she had frequently walked the moors, seeking the solace only nature can provide.
Lucian released the jesses and removed the hood. Artemis launched off his arm and soared high into the sky. Each wing was longer than Corinne’s arm. It was both terrifying and beautiful to see the dangerous bird in flight.
Lucian moved to stand behind her, his hand resting possessively on her waist. He leaned in close to whisper against her ear, “You do not tame such a wild bird. You train it with careful conditioning. You show the bird that you and only you are responsible for its care. You control its environment. You feed it from your hand. You determine when it can feel the freedom of the open sky. Soon it comes to rely on the protection you offer.”
A tremor racked her body. His warning clear.
They watched Artemis elegantly swirl about the clouds in silence.
Lucian softly whistled, and the bird immediately swooped down and returned to her perch on his arm. He stroked her breast and the bird cooed in response.
Corinne felt a twinge of jealousy. It was absurd of course, it was a bird. Still, something in her longed to be petted by him as he whispered soft endearments. There was also something darker, primal, which awoke at the sight of him mastering such a fearsome creature. Bending it to his will. The frightening side of her that responded to his pain-filled touch…that submitted under his command came to mind. He was dominating both nature and her own body.
Lucian launched the bird again. This time Artemis shrieked as she targeted another bird in flight. Corinne watched in horror as Artemis’ talons sunk into the smaller bird’s neck. The bird went limp as Artemis shrieked again in triumph before returning to Lucian’s side, placing the dead bird at his feet.
Corinne covered her mouth in disgust.
Lucian turned his heated gaze on her. “Never forget, little one. It is the hunter who survives and the prey who is consumed.”
Another warning.
Forgetting about her punishment the last time she’d fled, Corinne picked up her skirts and ran back to the castle. Never before had she craved the warmth and safety of her nursery as she did at that moment.
“Your papa has requested your presence at dinner.”
Corinne looked up from the doll she was dressing. It was easy to slip into an almost childlike existence inside the protection of her nursery. She had never been coddled with such things as stuffed animals or dolls during her actual childhood at the abbey, despite longing for such simple comfor
ts. Now, despite her older age, she found she enjoyed wiling away an afternoon playing with her dolls and having tea parties with Nanny.
“Am I to be punished, Nanny?”
“That is for your papa to decide. You were a very naughty girl to run away from him again,” scolded Nanny. “You have earned those five beads over your bed, make no mistake, child.”
Corinne nodded glumly. Her bottom clenched at the thought of Papa forcing the punishments beads inside of her again.
“Let’s not dawdle. Your papa has very specific instructions on how he wants you attired for this evening.”
A few hours later, Corinne was escorted to the dining room by a footman. It was large and imposing. A massive mahogany table dominated the space. Despite having chairs for eighteen guests it was only set for two. In the center of the table, was a large floral arrangement filled with expensive hot house flowers inside an ornate silver vase. Floor to ceiling windows opened onto an open portico, she could hear the crash of the waves from the nearby sea.
“Good evening.”
Corinne turned with a start. Lucian stood by the entrance, dressed in his evening finery. She was not certain how long he had observed her.
Her hands nervously twisted into the silk fabric of her dress. “Evening, Papa.”
She kept her eyes downcast, only observing him through her lashes, trying to determine if he was angry with her or not.
His heated gaze swept her from head to foot.
Corinne shifted where she stood. Nanny had dressed her like a living doll. Her hair was arranged in tight, ringlet curls. She wore a dress that was more stiff lace than silk. The skirt and bodice were covered in ruffles of cream lace and willow green ribbon. Her exposed legs were only covered in silk knee stockings.
Lucian stalked towards her.
Corinne instinctively stepped back.
A fire lit in his eyes. The hunter’s thrill of the chase.
He continued his pursuit.
She walked backwards, around the dining room table, placing her hands on the smooth spindles of the chairs as a guide.