by Zoe Blake
The corner of Blackhurst's mouth tilted up in a mockery of a smile. There would have been no amusement for him if this piece of heaven didn't have at least a touch of hellfire to her. He slowly stalked towards her. He was in no rush. He knew that with each measured step, her anxiety and awareness of his presence would increase.
Angeline stumbled backwards as she stretched out a restraining arm. "Stay away from me." She scrambled to place the large upholstered chair between them.
"No." The simplicity of the answer belied the complexity of his emotions in that moment. He did not question why he felt such a fierce need to possess and protect this woman. He never questioned his own instinct. Blackhurst moved forward until she was backed against the wall. Leaning in with his left forearm, he easily towered over her slight frame. She lowered her chin into her chest, avoiding his direct gaze.
Blackhurst grasped her throat with his right hand and forced her head up. His penetrating eyes did not miss a single detail.
The large eyes that had so captivated him earlier were midnight blue. Never in his life had he seen eyes such a deep, rich color. Her heart-shaped face was framed by high cheekbones and gorgeous full pink lips. He could feel the fluttering of each breath as it passed from the warmth of his hand around her throat through those parted lips. From her wide eyes, to the high color in her cheeks, to her parted lips, to her racing heartbeat - Blackhurst felt a pure masculine thrill in the knowledge that his little angel was aroused by his nearness. That her arousal was mixed with fear only made the emotion more potent.
"Lick your lips for me."
Without thought, she pulled her full bottom lip into her mouth to sweep it with the wet tip of her tongue. Angeline then pushed her tongue out further to trace her upper lip, innocent of the suggestive nature of the gesture. Blackhurst groaned and resisted the urge to rub his hard cock against the juncture of her thighs. Patience.
Pulling his gaze away from her mesmerizing, he watched the two middle fingers from his right hand lightly trace the outline of her exposed collarbone. His fingers then moved down in a gentle swirl to explore the upper swell of her breast. He reveled in the silky texture of her skin and the soft, pillowy feel of her full breast as his fingers pressed in.
Angeline closed her eyes and whimpered as he placed his warm open palm over her heart. She felt like a bird, helpless and fragile in his embrace, bending to his will.
Blackhurst leaned in close, taking in the delicate scent of her hair. Lavender. He brushed his lips against the gentle swirls of her ear, noting the slight shiver that coursed down her body.
Breathing into her ear, he whispered, "I'm very angry with you, my little angel."
Angeline's eyes snapped open. The spell was broken. At first she was uncertain she'd heard him correctly, until she saw the smoldering look banked in his stare.
"My lord?" she questioned, feeling all the more self-conscience with his hand still possessively placed just above her breast. She still did not even know his proper title or name!
"You placed yourself in a very dangerous position by coming to this house party," he warned.
She should have known a member of the ton would not appreciate a common seamstress trying to pass herself off as one of her betters. Her eyes welled with tears. "I am so very sorry," she began to babble. "Lady Herrington assured me there would be no offense. She said there would be other commoners like me, but I didn't see any, and now that I think of it, I believe she lied to me, my lord. I know that is a terrible, terrible thing to say about a fine lady, but she promised oh so much to me, and nothing seems to be as she said it would be. Oh, please, my lord. I meant no harm. I know I was supposed to stay near Lord Herrington's side, but he didn't want anything to do with me and then I couldn't find him. Oh my lord, if you would only find Lord Herrington, he can explain everything if you would just ask him."
Blackhurst's large hands engulfed her small face, cupping her cheeks and jaw. Brushing away her tears with his thumbs, he placed a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. "You sweet little innocent, what do you think I am angry about?"
"That a mere seamstress would presume to attend an upper crust party, my lord," Angeline answered hesitantly.
Blackhurst took a moment to search her upturned face. It was even worse than he thought. She had absolutely no idea of the illicit nature of the house party. He took a calming breath, trying not to think of all the scenarios that could have taken place had he not noticed her in time.
"I don't give a damn about your station or the Herringtons," he growled. "You have no concept of the foolishness of your rash actions. Is there no one accountable for you?"
"Accountable for me?" Angelina repeated. She was having a hard time following him. His nearness, his anger, and the confusing nature of what he was saying were all working to confuse her.
"Is there no one who keeps you in line?"
Angeline shook her head in confusion. Blackhurst took a step back. Placing his hands on his hips, he regarded her sternly. "You mean to tell me there is no one to look after your well-being? To see that you are fed and properly clothed?" The last said with a scathing look down at her inappropriate dress. "To see that you behave and to punish you when you do not?" he asked incredulously.
"Punish me?" Angeline exclaimed equally incredulously.
"Small wonder you fell prey to the likes of the Herringtons," murmured Blackhurst as he paced away in thought. The moment he laid eyes on her he'd known he would be claiming her for the duration of the house party, but now with this new information, he had a deeper commitment in mind.
First, however, he had a naughty little one to punish.
"We shall discuss your future later. At this moment, you need to learn the consequences of your rash pursuit of adventure," he said with grave deliberation. "Place yourself across the arms of this chair and lift your skirts."
"What?"
"You will quickly learn that I do not like repeating myself, Angeline." His voice was thick with insinuation. "You have earned yourself a punishment spanking. Now assume the position."
"You're mad if you think I'm going to let you spank me like a child!"
"Spanking you is only the beginning of how I am going to treat you like a child," he countered cryptically.
It was deeply ingrained in Angeline to obey her betters. Lowly seamstresses did not disobey powerful lords. They most certainly did not pick up the dragging skirts of their ill-fitting dress and dash hell for leather for the study door. It was unthinkable. It simply was not done. But it was precisely what Angeline did, only to quickly realize the door was locked and the key was gone.
"Looking for this?"
She turned to see him holding the brass key. Angeline bit her lip in frustration and wrung her hands as she looked around for another avenue of escape. There was none.
"I don't want a spanking," she whispered, dejected.
"It is not about what you want, little one," he admonished. "It is about what you need. You obviously lack proper guidance and discipline. Now, I am losing patience."
With no other recourse but to obey, Angeline reluctantly walked over to the chair. Gingerly, she placed herself over the arms.
"Lift your skirts."
Sobbing, she reached back and grabbed small handfuls of the material, slowly inching it up her thighs. She stopped when the material bunched around her bottom.
"Lift them all the way up, Angeline," Blackhurst snapped. Dutifully she submitted, pulling the material over her bottom to bunch around her waist. Stepping behind her, Blackhurst looked at her pale pink skin through the thin fabric of her pantalets. He ran a single finger down the seam of her bottom, pushing the fabric away from her cheeks, framing them. Angeline startled and tried to rise. He placed a restraining hand on her lower back, preventing her.
"Be still."
He observed how the thin cambric both displayed and hid her charms. Feeling her sharp indrawn breath as he slid his hand from her lower back to curve around to her front, he gently pull
Angeline whimpered when she felt his warm breath on the under curve of her bottom. She started to squirm and shift, confused by the dueling emotions of embarrassment, fear and arousal.
He smiled, knowing full well his effect on the poor naive girl and then once again rose to his full height. He took a moment to enjoy the sight of this sweet little angel anxiously waiting for her first spanking with her soft bottom on full view. Despite her slight frame, she had an ample bottom with the cutest little dimples on the top of each cheek. He tested the weight of one cheek with his hand. Angeline yelped with surprise.
"Let us begin."
Angeline squeezed her eyes tight and held her breath, bracing herself for the first hit, but it did not come. Perhaps he had reconsidered.
"Angeline, unclench your bottom cheeks this instant," he demanded sharply.
She was so frightened by the command she immediately unclenched and so was unprepared for the first painful smack. Oh god, it stung!
"No. No. No. I changed my mind. Stop. I won't let you do this!" she cried, trying to rise.
"You are not letting me do anything, angel."
The spanking continued…slowly. Blackhurst wanted her to feel every stinging ripple from each and every slap. He raised his hand high and brought it down hard on her plump right backside cheek, watching as her bottom contracted then bounced, the pale cheek blanching even paler for just a moment before flushing in a riot of pinks and reds. Still he waited. Finally, his patience was rewarded when the faint outline of a handprint appeared on her perfect cheek. He had marked her as his own. He raised his hand to do the same to the other cheek.
Angeline was in agony, each smack bringing a fresh rush of stinging heat. The heat of her bottom was only matched by the heat of humiliation coloring her face. As an untouched virgin, she'd never been seen in her unmentionables, let alone completely unclothed, and here she was exposed and vulnerable before this powerful stranger. As the spanking continued, the bruising pain became unbearable. She began to dance around on her toes, trying desperately to avoid the swinging blows.
"Please, please stop. I can't bear it!" she pleaded.
Blackhurst paused and leaned down to come face to face with her. Brushing the hair out of her eyes, he looked at her sweet tear-stained face. "The first punishment is always the hardest, dearest, but they will get easier as you learn."
The first punishment? thought Angeline unhappily.
He reached for her wrist, cupping her tiny hand in his large one. Pushing her fingers into a fist and extending her thumb, he raised her hand to her lips. "Open your mouth," he commanded. She obeyed. Watching her eyes dilate with untried arousal, he pushed her thumb past her cute pink lips. "Suck it."
Angeline gave a slight pull on her thumb finding strange comfort from the effort.
"Deeper," he ordered, his voice thick with his own arousal. Angeline sucked on her thumb harder, her cheeks hollowing. "Good girl. Keep your thumb in your mouth for the rest of your punishment."
Angeline started to whimper. She had hoped his kindness meant the spanking was over, but Blackhurst returned to his position to the side of her.
In the several minutes that had passed, the sharp stinging had mellowed to a heated glow. When he resumed the punishment, it felt even more painful than the first smack. Angeline opened her mouth and cried out, dropping her hand.
"Put your thumb back in your mouth, little one, before I increase your punishment for disobeying."
Angeline nodded her head 'yes' with a sob, and placed her thumb back in her mouth.
Caressing her bottom, Blackhurst was pleased with the level of heat radiating off her skin when he was finished. It glowed a satisfying red with a nice even tone, no mottled purple areas or bruising. She would have an hour or two of discomfort at the most.
Reluctantly, he pulled her skirts down to cover her well-punished backside.
"You may rise, Angeline."
Awkwardly, she rose up, still keeping her thumb in her mouth, not wanting to risk another punishment. Blackhurst smiled. She looked so adorable with her hair slightly mussed and her dark blue eyes big and bright from recently shed tears. He closed his hands over her shoulders and pulled her close to his chest for a hug.
Angeline brushed her face against the fabric of his waistcoat. The silk brocade felt cool against her hot, wet cheek. Closing her eyes, she breathed deep. He smelled like cloves and brandy. It was a warm, masculine scent.
"You were a very good girl for your punishment," he soothed. "Were you not such an innocent I would give you a kiss between your sweet thighs this very moment to ease the throbbing caused by the spanking I just gave you."
Angeline blushed furiously at his words…that he should know of her secret shame! Tears sprung to eyes as she struggled with her confused emotions. She had no way to account for her body's aroused reaction to the painful punishment.
"Do not cry, angel," he said as he wiped away a tear. "You may not understand but I do."
With those cryptic words, he released his hold on her and crossed to the bell pull to summon a servant and unlock the study door. Angeline immediately missed his strength and comfort. It seemed odd since this was the same man who had just spanked her moments before but instinctively she knew it was not to truly harm her.
Blackhurst crossed back to her. He grasped her chin and raised her head to meet his stern gaze.
"You are to go straight to your room to take a bath and go to bed."
Immediately forgetting the punishment she just received, Angeline pouted. "What about the party? It is early yet. I do not want to go to bed like a child."
"You will do as you are told. I want you tucked safely in your room away from the adult guests."
Angeline opened her mouth to argue further but Blackhurst cut her off.
"Would my little one like another spanking so soon after her first one?"
"No," she grumbled.
At that moment, a housemaid arrived. She listened to Blackhurst's instructions and with a curtsy started to lead Angeline away. Angeline ran back to Blackhurst. He stared down at her with a raised eyebrow. With a blush, Angeline admitted, "Sir, we have not actually been formally introduced."
With a smile and a formal bow, he said, "Lord Jasper Blackhurst, at your service, Miss Angeline Fay." Angeline was startled to learn he already knew her full Christian name.
"But you shall call me Papa," he directed.
Angeline creased her brow, but before she could ask any further questions, the housemaid pulled her out of the room.
Blackhurst crossed to the study desk and took up a fountain pen and a piece of plain vellum he found at the ready. He scrawled a quick note to his butler, Baxter. He rang for another servant. When they arrived, he handed them the note. "See that this is delivered to my estate by messenger immediately."
Ready the nursery. Hire a Nanny.
- B
Chapter Three – Meanwhile In The Parlor
Blackhurst returned to the parlor and was immediately approached by Lord Fairfax.
"Did you find your little runaway fairy?" he asked as he motioned for a servant with a tray of drinks.
"More than that. I have found my little one."
Fairfax stopped with a glass half raised to his lips. "You cannot be serious, Jasp," he said, referring to Blackhurst by his childhood nickname. "You barely know the chit."
Blackhurst gave Fairfax a good-natured slap on the back. "I have always trusted my own instincts and I tell you, Duncan, I have found her."
While not public knowledge, Fairfax was aware of the long history of Blackhurst men's preference for keeping their women in a childlike submissive role, even going so far as to establish them in a nursery with a nanny. But it took a special kind of woman to flourish under such an arrangement, and he knew Lord Blackhurst had all but given up on finding such a woman.
"Does she have any family to speak of - anyone to object?"
"I don't believe so. I know that is part of the appeal. The girl needs someone to watch over her," Blackhurst said thoughtfully.
"Well, I am happy for you, my friend," said Fairfax, raising his glass in salute. "Of course this dampens the sport we were to have these upcoming days," he finished mockingly.
"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps it is finally time to bring to heal your real quarry," said Blackhurst with a raised eyebrow and a look in the direction of Lady Shackelton.
Her house party was not the only thing that was infamous and mysterious; the lady herself was justly so as well. Unhappily married and happily widowed at a very young age, she had vowed never to marry again. That had not stopped many a lord from trying to chase her to ground, whether it was for her willowy figure, silky black hair and full red lips or her rather vast fortune. They rather quickly found out that her tastes ran against the natural course in the boudoir. Lady Shackelton preferred her men submissive and on their knees, and there had been many men over the years. The poor saps learned - after sacrificing their manhood and handing her the reins – that they still had not earned the right to her hand.
"Perhaps, you are right. Perhaps it is time to teach the minx who truly holds the riding whip," answered Fairfax speculatively. He understood Lady Shackelton better than anyone, not that she would ever admit it. He knew what she had really needed was time after her disastrous marriage - time to understand herself and her own needs before she would once again submit to the needs of a man. Lady Shackleton liked to disdain Fairfax for his Scottish title, but he knew the real reason she kept him at arm's length.
As if he had drawn her to him by sheer will, Lady Shackelton approached them both.
"Good evening, Jasper," she greeted Blackhurst warmly with a kiss on each cheek. "Lord Fairfax," she added coldly, with barely a glance over her shoulder.
Fairfax chuckled. "Always a pleasure seeing your charms, Madeline." He deliberately used her Christian name knowing it would irritate her and was not disappointed when he was rewarded with a narrowed, icy glare.
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