by Ava Sinclair
“Hold still,” the governess said, and Amelia felt the rush of warm liquid fill her bowel as the clyster’s plunger was slowly depressed.
The enema bags and hoses used in some nurseries always delivered more liquid. The clyster did not cause the same effect of fullness. However, the concentrated mixture of herbs soon had Amelia’s tummy roiling, and she moaned from the intense cramping.
Behind her, Miss Steadwell and Garrett were talking, their conversational tone making it apparent that they were ignoring her distress. Amelia quickly realized that this was part of the punishment; she was being forced to exercise self-control. Only when she felt like she would completely fail did she cry out for her governess, who whisked her away to another room so that Amelia could finally relieve herself in the chamber pot.
The fight had gone out of her by then. She endured the wiping of her bottom before being settled into the tub; baths were always enjoyable, but not this one. The heated water felt like nettles on her punished bottom.
Amelia wanted to hate them for what they had done, but she could not. She had been warned, but had chosen to disobey. Once the spanking was over, her governess did not mention it. In fact, Miss Steadwell’s behavior was warmly maternal in the wake of the correction. She hummed to Amelia as she bathed her, and then rubbed some cream onto her bottom before settling her into bed.
“I’m sorry,” Amelia said softly when the older woman settled into the chair as she did most nights before her charge went to sleep. “I acted badly.”
“Yes, you did.” Miss Steadwell peered up over the reading spectacles she’d donned. “And I spanked your naughty bottom for it, because that is what happens to little girls who don’t do as they’re told.” The governess sighed then and laid the book she was reading on her lap. “But once you’ve been corrected—whether by me or Lord Darmley—the slate is wiped clean. There will be no reminders of how you failed, no grudges will be held. You will always, always have a chance to be the good little one we know you to be.”
“You really think I’m good?”
Miss Steadwell raised an eyebrow. “Why would I think otherwise?”
Amelia’s fingers played with the edge of her coverlet. “Surely you know my story—the incorrigible daughter who gave her virginity to a servant in a desperate bid to have her own way…”
The governess gave a small smile. “Yes, I am aware of your circumstances. Normally, I frown on disobedience. But it seems your parents were set to condemn you to a very dour life for their own benefit.”
“Maybe I deserved it,” Amelia said softly. “I was always difficult, always willful. My sisters were willful, too, but not so bad as I. My poor parents… they only wanted peace. I did not make it easy for them.”
“People who want peace should not have children,” Miss Steadwell said. “Children are often disruptive, and the best way to curb disruption is to correct it and move on. I knew the moment I met you that you were a stranger to discipline.”
“I think it was too much work for my parents,” Amelia said. “My mother, especially, thought it enough to remind me daily of what a disappointment I was. I suppose that was her idea of discipline.”
“That’s not discipline, Amelia. That’s cruelty.” She paused. “Cruelty doesn’t wipe the slate. It simply smears hurtful words in layers. Loving correction offers cleansing.”
Amelia nodded, finally understanding. She suddenly felt warm and safe, despite what she’d been through. By the time Garrett re-entered the room to bid her good night, she felt relaxed. The tenderness in her bottom seemed somehow comforting now, a reminder of her place in a household that would always offer her a second chance.
“There’s my poppet.” He smiled down at her. In the light of the candle, Amelia could see the faintest of stubble on his square jaw. She was seized by a sudden and overwhelming desire to feel the abrasion of it against the soft skin of her face. She blushed, remembering how Miss Steadwell had said he might lick her pussy. She imagined the abrasion lower, on the inside of her thigh, and flushed.
“Hello,” she said.
“My dear, you look rather guilty.” Garrett quirked an eyebrow. “Have you been bad again?”
“Not at all!” Miss Steadwell answered for her, and Amelia felt pleased by her defensive tone. “She’s been the perfect little duck.”
“Wonderful, Miss Steadwell. Would you like to take your leave while I see her off to sleep?”
“That would be nice.” The governess stood. “I could do with a cuppa before bed. Goodnight, dear.”
“Goodnight.” Amelia watched her leave the room before looking back up at Garrett. “I have been good.” Her tone was so petulant, that she realized at that moment she sounded quite childish. But as Garrett sat down, he just continued to smile.
“I don’t doubt it,” he said.
Amelia studied him quietly for a moment. “Miss Steadwell said punishment wipes the slate clean.”
“It does.”
“So you’re not mad that I fussed so over my cleansing?”
“Why should I be? You learned your lesson.” He paused and leaned over, running the back of his hand down her cheek. Amelia caught the vague scent of leather and pipe tobacco. “Are you happy, my sweet?”
The question took Amelia by surprise. She’d not really thought of whether she was happy. And it was the first time in her life anyone had thought to even ask.
“Yes.” The answer came suddenly and easily. “I was scared when I came here, and angry. But I’m so glad I did, my lord. I feel cared for here, protected.”
“Come here, Amelia.” He opened his arms, and she climbed from the bed and clambered into his lap. It felt oddly natural, seeking comfort in this way. He’d shed his jacket and the fabric of his fine shirt was smooth against her face.
“I’m glad you’re happy,” he said. “You make me very happy, too.”
“I do?” She looked up at him.
“Yes.” He smiled down at her. “Amelia, how would you like to become my wife sooner than we’d planned? I was thinking that the end of this month would be nice.”
Amelia sat up, speechless. She knew she was to be prepared for marriage, but had thought it to be something that would take place in the future, when she was good enough. To think of it now just being three weeks away left her nearly speechless.
“You want me?”
“I do. Very much. I believe I was a bit wrong about you. I thought you to be merely a selfish, spoiled girl. But I believe your problems stem from not having the needed doses of love and discipline. In just the short time you’ve been here, I’ve seen you flourish. I want you as my little one, Amelia. But I also want you by my side as my lady. I will not deny both parts of you.”
She flung her arms around his neck. “Is it odd, my lord, that I prefer the former? I felt cheated when I learned I’d be confined to the nursery. But now I truly love how safe it makes me feel, like being in a warm cocoon.”
“And you shall always have that,” he said. “But I will not keep you hidden away.”
She cast her eyes down then, worried. “But what should happen if truth of my scandal comes to light? Won’t it shame you?”
“Yes. It would bring a great deal of shame on this family. But no one will tell,” he said. “No one at Chesterfield will speak of it, and the only ones who know of it here are the two of us, my parents, and a few trusted servants, including your governess. This house is a fortress, and you have nothing to fear.” He took her face in his hands. “So tell me that you’ll marry me, Amelia Chesterfield. Tell me that come month’s end you’ll become my child-bride and be my cherished little one forever. I’ll know no peace until I’ve captured my little vixen for good.”
“I’m yours.” Her lips met his then, and she couldn’t say who initiated the kiss, only that it was sweetly spontaneous. The feel of his tongue against hers was a surprise; the gardener who’d taken her virginity had not kissed her, and it struck her mind that this was odd, having her first real kiss
from the second man who would take her. But it all felt new, just the same, and as Garrett’s hands roamed her body she suddenly felt shy and a little afraid. But she didn’t want it to stop, and told him so.
“Oh, my love… We are to be married, but even so I’ll not have you think I regard you as the gardener did… If you want to wait…” He was cupping her face in his hands, his expression tender.
Amelia placed her hands over his. “I don’t think you regard me that way, and never could. How could I, when you’ve given me something I never knew I was even missing? Love—the special love of a…” She dropped her gaze and then looked up, staring into his grey eyes. “…of a papa. Oh, I did not know until I had it how much it would fill my soul.”
“My little one…” He stood, raising her with him. His hands pulled free the tie holding the top of her gown together. This time when it slid from her body, leaving her naked, there was no shame. The throb between her thighs was almost overwhelming. Her breasts—now perfectly filling his large hands—had grown firm, the turgid nipples pressing against his palms. Amelia looked up, no longer intimidated by his height, but reveling in it. He was a man of strength and influence who could use his power to hurt or destroy her. But he was instead using it to lift her into a safe place, to protect her and to… oh! Garrett had dipped down to close his mouth over the peak of one perfect breast. She arched her back as she felt his teeth score the sensitive nipple before laving it with his tongue. Amelia felt her knees go weak and would have surely fallen had her lord not picked her up to lay her gently on the bed. His mouth blazed a trail of kisses from her breasts, past her sensitive ribcage, and then lower still until he was between her open legs.
When it came, the sensation of his tongue tip sliding up the seam of her pussy set Amelia’s nerve endings on fire.
“So sweet,” he said, and she moaned as waves of pleasure washed away any feelings of self-consciousness at having Garrett treating her in such an intimate fashion. Amelia tried to suppress a scream when his mouth latched on to the very nub he’d encouraged her to touch that night in the nursery, but she could not stop herself from crying out, the sounds of her first orgasm at his hands resounding off the pale pink walls of the large room.
He was overwhelming, demanding, dominant. Amelia was lost as he drove her up pleasure’s peak once more to drop her screaming into a precipice of carnal bliss. When he looked at her again, it was through lust-slaked eyes. The stubbly jaw that had abraded her soft skin was now covered in a sheen of her arousal, and she watched as he stripped off his shirt.
Amelia had never seen a male form other than one cast in marble. But in that moment she thought no sculpture could rival the physique of the man who was about to claim her as his own. A sculpted and muscular chest peppered with fine black hairs led to clearly defined abdominal ridges she longed to trace with her fingers. His waist was slim, and when he removed his pants, the cock jutting from the nest of thick black curls was long and thick, the length of it mapped by a network of prominent veins. The flared head was a ruby red, a tiny slit crowning the end oozing a perfect small pearl of clear fluid.
“There will be no pain this time,” he assured her. “Only your first pleasure.” He loomed over her, and she watched mesmerized as Garrett stroked the length of his cock. The ache between her legs was almost agonizing now. When he knelt between them, she was ready.
Garrett entered her with one single thrust, the fullness of it startling her. She could feel her pussy stretching to accommodate his girth. And he had been right—so right—her first sexual experience had been nothing like this, nothing at all. She felt owned by Garrett Darmley, consumed, conquered. With each thrust of his cock, the man she loved drove any vestiges of that first disappointing deflowering from her mind. She did not need to be a woman of experience to know that what she was experiencing with this man was how it was supposed to be. Her body knew it, too. Her pussy was contracting on his cock, pulling it deeper, her velvet walls gripping and drawing to coax the seed out and into her womb. Amelia wrapped her legs around Garrett’s waist, pulling him to her with a sense of carnal desperation. When he stiffened and cried out, she clasped him tightly, feeling her rhythmic inner pulses accepting the spurts of hot cum.
“My precious little vixen,” he said. “Your passion has finally run you down.”
“My teacher, my love, my papa,” she replied. “I never knew how wonderful it could be.”
Chapter Ten: Riding Lessons
Garrett’s valet was still out of commission, and he was initially piqued to find Dobbs waiting for him in his room the next morning when he arrived to dress for breakfast with his mother.
“Lady Darmley asked me to come up and assist you,” the valet said. Garrett was at least pleased to note that the man already had his clothing laid out. He was efficient enough, and Garrett’s night with Amelia had put him in a generous enough mood to be more indulgent with the servant than usual.
“Thank you, Dobbs,” he said. “I’m sorry I made you wait. I was tending to Amelia.”
“Were you, sir? How are things with your betrothed, if I may ask?”
“You may.” Garrett shrugged off the wrinkled shirt he’d worn back from her room and replaced it with one Dobbs handed to him. “Things are fine. In fact…” He smiled as he allowed Dobbs to adjust his cuff. “I intend to tell mother of my plans to marry by month’s end. It will be a small ceremony, and private. I think the church on the estate will do.”
There was a clink as the cufflink the valet was holding hit the wood floor. He quickly retrieved it, eyeing Garrett directly with a small smile as he brushed the cufflink against his lapel. “Well. How nice. Sooner than planned, I gather.”
“Yes,” Garrett said. “I feel like a lucky man. Amelia is, I’ve discovered, a true gem, and quite perfect for me.” He paused. “Of course, I’d hoped to have our good friend Lord Taverny in attendance, but from what I gather he’s not well since his fall. Bloody shame, that. He’s a good man. His family and ours go back generations.”
“Yes, a shame.”
Garrett shook his head. “Would that his son had lived, poor Rupert. I suppose if Taverny doesn’t pull through, his estate will pass to his brother since he has no living son to inherit, at least not one he’d claim. He certainly made his way around the village, but always kept it quiet at least.”
The valet had turned away and now Garrett looked down at his cuffs and frowned. “Dobbs, do you realize these cufflinks don’t match?” The valet turned back. His mouth was set in a grim line.
“Don’t tell me you’re also unwell, Dobbs? With Humphries still laid up, I can ill afford to be without you now, can I?” Garrett chuckled at his own joke and now the valet managed a smile.
“No, sir. Of course not,” Dobbs said.
The conversation turned to general small talk—the weather, the success of the shooting party on a neighboring estate—and then Garrett took his leave and headed down to see his mother, who reacted to the news of his plans to marry quickly with stone-faced surprise.
“By month’s end?” she asked. “I thought your intention was to see Lady Chesterfield properly schooled and refined.”
“She needs no refinement, mother.”
“But her past…”
“Is exactly that—the past. All that matters now is the future, and in Amelia I have found a young woman who meets both my needs as a partner and as a caretaker. It will be my joy to guide and protect her.”
Lady Darmley was quiet for a moment. “Well, I shall have to think on it. To ask for my blessing so suddenly, Garrett…”
“I’m not asking for your blessing, mother,” Garrett replied firmly. “In fact, it is not required. Father has no problem with my marrying whenever I want. And you should not either.”
“My dear…” Lady Darmley’s tone turned solicitous. “I just want to make sure that she’s the right one for you.”
“She is,” Garrett said. “And it is settled.”
“Well then.” A
ster Darmley offered a smile that did not meet her eyes. “What more can I say? I just hope that you will be enough to satisfy her, given what we know of her… appetites.”
Garrett felt a surge of anger at his mother. He stood, throwing his napkin down on the table. “I’m not at all worried, mother,” he said coldly. “She’s nothing like you.” He tugged the lapels of his jacket and then turned and left without another word.
In the hallway, he walked slowly, waiting for his anger to cool before he reached the nursery where his little one waited. He knew mothers wanted the best for their sons, but he’d always thought his mother would be understanding of something outside a conventional choice. She had been well aware of Amelia’s past, and had not seemed initially bothered by it. It made no sense that the woman who’d always told him that his happiness mattered above all else would suddenly pretend to bow to convention. It was especially hypocritical for her to attack Amelia’s sexual mores when her own dalliances had been an open family secret. So what had changed?
At the nursery door, he stopped, wondering if he should tell Amelia what had transpired. But he quickly decided against it. She’d faced blame and judgment her whole life for simply having a will of her own. The last thing she needed was to feel unwelcome in her new home. Garrett told himself that his mother was simply going through what all mothers went through upon the marriage of a child; they likely never thought the prospective mate was good enough, and he contented himself with the knowledge that once his mother saw how happy he was, she’d embrace his little Amelia—and their privately unconventional marriage—quite readily. No, he thought, as he opened the door, he would keep what had happened a secret.
“Papa!”
Garrett’s heart thrilled at the sound of her freely calling him by the word he’d so longed to hear. She was dressed as his little one today, her hair unbound, her lace-trimmed dress flowing around her as she ran.