Elizabeth's Education (Forbidden Lust)

by Carpenter, Maggie

  Lying over the supine beauty he laced his fingers in her hair, pressing his lips to hers, and slipped his tongue into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. They kissed deeply, tongues dancing, and then he began to move down her body.

  ‘Be very still,’ he said, commanding her quietly.

  She almost held her breath but it was impossible, and as he moved further and further down she could feel herself still trembling. His fingers separated her sex lips, something amazing and delicious flicked her clit, and she felt them inside her. ‘Oh sir, please?’ she begged. ‘There’s a need in me I cannot begin to describe.’

  Suddenly she was rolled over. He grabbed her hips, pulled her up to her knees, and then spanked her with his open palm. She squealed as the unexpected slaps assailed her bottom.

  ‘You will have that special moment when I say, Elizabeth,’ he said firmly, ‘and not before.’ Then softening his voice, he continued. ‘You have surrendered your body. I shall do with it as I please. Learn to enjoy it, my dear, for it will be your greatest pleasure.’

  He admired and caressed her punished cheeks, then slipped his fingers between her pussy lips again, touching her sensitive, swollen clit. ‘Do you understand?’ he pressed.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she whispered repentantly, moving against his teasing hand.

  ‘Good. Then just relax and feel, and soon you will know what it means to surrender to pleasure. To become a sweet, submissive girl.’

  She let out a long deep sigh as he kept her on her hands and knees, his fingers and lips and tongue exploring her. He continued his salacious play until she was desperate, all reasoned thought having abandoned her, and then he placed his cock against her wet entrance.

  ‘Do you want me, my dear?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she panted, succumbing to the hedonistic craving. ‘I think I do.’

  ‘How much?’ he asked, pushing a little with his hips.

  ‘Oh, sir, if it pleases, I think I want you very much…’

  His fingers moved under her, touching her tender bud, and once again he started to fondle her. She gasped in pleasure, her head dropping between her arms, but his free hand grabbed her hair, pulling it back as he pressed into her, slowly but insistently.

  Carefully, pressing in a little further, he suddenly felt it – her body’s natural resistance. She felt it too and let out a little cry of uncertainty.

  ‘Are you ready, my sweet Elizabeth?’ he asked. ‘I warn you, it will hurt a little.’

  ‘Oh yes, sir, please sir,’ she begged.

  Lord Michael moved his hands back and held her hips, pulled back, and then with a strong thrust he penetrated the kneeling girl with one inexorable movement. She uttered a cry and he pulled back, repeated the action, and this time he felt her give and tightly accommodate his full length and girth.

  ‘Almost there, my dear,’ he grunted. ‘A moment’s more discomfort and then naught but pleasure.’

  ‘Yes sir, I’m fine sir,’ she whimpered bravely, not at all sure it was true as the man withdrew again, then sank forward and buried himself deeply and fully inside her. ‘Oh!’ she cried, clenching her fists and clutching the bedcover.

  He rested inside her for a minute, letting her feel him, then slowly began to fuck her. Smoothly and easily he slid in and out of her delicious and vulnerable body. She was tight and tense, so he moved his fingers beneath her again, touching her clit, and she immediately began to relax, her state of arousal renewed. Moments later she began to press back against him, meeting his movements with her own.

  He gradually increased the tempo, thrusting in and out with vigour, his fingers working artfully between her pussy lips. She began to groan, louder and louder, until he knew her moment was nigh. As was his.

  ‘If you feel your moment, Elizabeth, embrace it,’ he ordered.

  She was completely silent for a moment, holding her breath, waiting, not even sure what she was waiting for. A new feeling had grown inside her. His fingers were rubbing aggressively, his cock pumping, and then suddenly an explosion rocked her. As the spasms took hold she sank her face into the pillows to muffle the screams of sheer bliss that erupted from deep in her lungs.

  Her inner walls gripped him tightly and her body shuddered as she climaxed, the orgasm surging through her. It was enough to send him over the edge too, and he pumped strongly, feeling his own explosive release.

  Eventually, their passions spent, their ragged movements eased and their rasping breathing calmed. Lord Michael released her hips, his softening penis slipping from her, and she collapsed on the bed. Stretching out he rolled her with him so they were side by side, and tenderly swept the damp tendrils of hair from her hot cheek. He stroked her breasts, and waited for her breathing to calm. Again she sighed deeply.

  ‘How do you feel, my dear?’ he asked.

  She didn’t respond right away, but then just when he was about to ask again she said, ‘It’s so hard to describe, sir. I feel tranquil, yet invigorated.’

  ‘You know you’ve turned a corner in your young life, don’t you? You’ve taken the first few steps on a long but wonderful journey.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, too happy and overcome to truly understand the depth of his words. ‘I think I know that.’

  ‘Rest now. You’ve had a very long day.’

  ‘Mmm, and night,’ she murmured, feeling her eyes close and sleep float about her.

  Lord Michael cradled the shapely young beauty, finding it difficult to accept the unfamiliar feelings he too was experiencing.

  Chapter 8

  Lord Michael stayed with Elizabeth throughout the night. She would stir in her sleep and feel him snuggled against her, or his arm thrown over her. She had never felt so safe, nor so at peace. Though she slept lightly, not used to sharing her bed, she loved having his warm, strong body next to her.

  In the early hours of the morning he cuddled her close, whispered in her ear that he must leave her, and retreated to his room. She wanted him to stay but already knew better than to ask, and once alone between the sheets she held his pillow close, smelt the masculine memory of him on the linen, and drifted back off to sleep.

  And when Grace entered and opened the curtains the girl barely moved.

  ‘Morning, Miss Elizabeth,’ the maid said in her usual manner. ‘It’s a bit later than usual, but Lord Michael said to let you rest this morning. It’s almost ten o’clock.’

  Elizabeth could not believe it was so late. She rarely slept past eight, and certainly Grace never woke her later than eight-thirty. Even so she felt tired, and smiled to herself; it was not surprising after all she’d been through. She heard Grace running a bath, and stretching languidly, raised herself onto her elbows, squinting in the morning light bathing her bed.

  ‘I’ll have cook fix you a late breakfast, Miss Elizabeth,’ Grace said, closing the bathroom door so as to keep in the warmth. ‘Will there be anything else?’

  ‘No, thank you, Grace,’ the sleepy girl said, suppressing a yawn and suddenly blushing as the scene she’d witnessed in the servants area of her father’s house the night before flooded back to her. The image of Grace kneeling and jerking back and forth as young Billy fucked her like one of the rams out in the fields, and suddenly she viewed the maid in a different light, with a degree of respectful admiration. ‘No, that will be all.’

  The maid curtsied, clearly surprised that her mistress was being so agreeable. Usually first thing in the morning Miss Elizabeth wasn’t the nicest person to be around.

  Elizabeth flopped the bedcovers back and padded her way to the bathroom, feeling a little jaded and the threat of a possible headache looming. A late night and too much champagne, she thought wistfully, and slothfully began her morning ablutions.

  By the time she made it downstairs it felt closer to lunch than breakfast. But eggs and toast and a cup of tea sounded exactly right, so she sat down at the dining table and was very pleased when she discovered that was exactly what awaited her
.

  She wondered where the wonderful Lord Michael was, so finishing her meal she wandered the house in search of him, ending up in the sitting room overlooking the gardens. She sighed a happy sigh; how much she adored him and how quickly those feelings had blossomed. It was there, in this very room, that he had first turned her over his knee. She could not believe it was less than twenty-four hours earlier. But how she had thought him such a brute then, and oh, how he instead turned out to be the man of her dreams, despite his mature age compared to her tender years.

  As she pondered him and the wondrous night they had spent together she coughed unexpectedly, and sniffled a little.

  ‘There you are, Elizabeth.’ It was him! ‘Are you feeling all right?’

  Glowing with happiness she turned to face him. ‘Good morning, sir, I hope you slept well,’ she said daringly.

  He raised an eyebrow, gave her a severe look, and then relaxed and laughed. ‘Yes, thank you, I slept very well indeed. And you?’

  ‘Oh, very well, thank you. Never better.’ She coughed again and Lord Michael frowned.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ he asked again, genuine concern in his voice.

  ‘Yes,’ she insisted, ‘it’s just a bit of a tickle in my throat, nothing more.’

  ‘Hmmm, well you look a little peaky to me,’ he adjudged. ‘Come here.’

  Dutifully she walked over to him, and he touched his palm to her forehead. ‘Elizabeth, you are very warm,’ he decided, ‘and your eyes, they’re a little dull. I think you’re coming down with something.’

  ‘No, I’m fine, sir, really.’ If he thought she was off colour he might make her spend the day alone in bed, and she certainly did not want that.

  ‘Well, if you say so,’ he said, unconvinced. ‘Now, I’ve some work I must see to. It is going to take me an hour or so, so you amuse yourself until I’m finished, and then after lunch we’ll spend the afternoon together.’

  A fresh cough threatened to burst forth, and she did her best to suppress it. ‘I think I’ll take Constance out for some exercise,’ she managed. Constance was her beautiful bay mare, and if Lord Michael was going to leave her to her own devices for an hour or so, there was nothing she would rather do than take her horse for a stirring gallop.

  Lord Michael looked at her quizzically, his brow furrowing. ‘Elizabeth, I do not think that’s such a good idea.’ He walked briskly over to the windows. ‘It’s a little blustery outside, and there’s some weather threatening. You’d best stay indoors and keep warm by the fire.’

  ‘But sir—’

  ‘You would not be attempting to question me, would you, Elizabeth?’

  She felt the colour rise in her cheeks, studied the floor for a moment, and then replied demurely that she was not.

  ‘As far as I’m concerned you are not quite well, despite what you say,’ he continued, ‘and it will not do you any good to be out in the brisk air. Besides, I believe rain is threatening, so you will stay in here by the fire.’

  Elizabeth sighed with resignation. ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Now, I have my work to be getting on with,’ he went on, the issue decided in accordance with his ruling, naturally, although he recognised with satisfaction that a day earlier would have seen a more confrontational stance from the girl. ‘I will be in your father’s study, and I do not want to be disturbed under any circumstances. Do you understand?’ She nodded demurely, and feeling pleased with the progress being made, he turned and left the room.

  Elizabeth was bored again. It seemed she’d been left alone an eternity. Meandering back to the window she stared up at the sky, feeling decidedly cooped up, although the sun was peeking out from behind admittedly dark clouds.

  Even more bored and sulky than she had been five minutes before, she went up to her room. The sun was shining in, and though she could see the blustery wind blowing the trees around, it seemed to be an invigorating day and too good to be virtually imprisoned.

  ‘Oh bother!’ she exclaimed; despite the occasional tickle in her throat she felt perfectly all right, the previously threatening headache never having arrived. Lord Michael had forbidden her to go outside because he thought her unwell, but she was feeling fine. Yes, definitely fine. But since he had left specific instructions that he was not to be disturbed, she could not exactly inform him of that. No, there was no doubt in her mind that she was perfectly all right and there was no reason why she should not go for a ride.

  Her mind made up, she hastily donned her riding clothes, raced down the stairs two at a time, and out to the stables.

  Lord Michael sat back and stretched his arms, his neck a little stiff. He laid down the pen and stood up. The latest business venture was requiring a greater investment in time than he had anticipated, and the figures were difficult to make sense of. He wandered over to the window, gazing out, not really seeing anything, mulling over the options available to him, when suddenly the shock of seeing Elizabeth cantering across the fields on her mare, the spirited horse tossing its head, was not to be believed!

  ‘Good lord!’ he exclaimed. ‘Will she never learn that I mean what I say?’

  He was immediately angry; yet again she was being grossly disobedient. How dare she? Yet watching her despite his ire he had to admit she was a spellbinding sight. Even in his anger he had to admire the wonderful vision – beauty and power in perfect harmony.

  The mare left the ground and jumped effortlessly over a fallen tree trunk, Elizabeth staying with her, making it look easy. They galloped out of view and he craned his neck to follow, but they were gone.

  Pulling out his pocket watch he checked the time. It was eleven-fifty. Well, there was little he could do, so he’d go back to work and see what the young culprit had to say for herself when they met for lunch. He was determined she would pay severely for her flagrant disobedience.

  He settled back at the desk, and had just begun to make some more notes when there was a rumbling boom and a jagged flash of lightening across the increasingly angry sky outside. Large droplets of rain splattered against the windowpanes, and they were quickly growing in intensity. His anger quickly turned to concern. She was going to get caught in a downpour, and her fledgling cold could turn into something very much more serious. Not to mention the distinct possibility that her horse might spook in the storm and throw her. So he hurried out of the study, through the large house, and grabbed a raincoat as he dashed out of the backdoor, racing to the stables.

  Elizabeth was indeed caught in the deluge and Constance was not happy at all, but Elizabeth was able to handle her. She managed to get the mare turned around and they galloped back towards the house. She was getting soaked through, and the cold rain had her teeth chattering.

  Lord Michael was just about to mount a horse and go out to search for her when he heard clattering hooves on the cobblestones outside the stable. He ran to the open stable door and saw the large bay mare being reined in by a totally drenched and bedraggled Elizabeth. Leaving his horse to the stable boy he dashed out into the rain to help her. She saw him, dragged her feet out of the stirrups and slumped gratefully to the ground, leaning against his body for support. She was shaking so badly from the cold and wet he could barely hold her up while Constance, now free of her rider, trotted into the shelter of the stable.

  ‘Elizabeth, you are such a silly girl,’ he scolded her, although filled with concern. ‘Come on, let’s get you indoors quickly.’

  Her teeth chattered and she couldn’t speak from the chill, and felt faint and weak. Her skin turned a horrible grey hue and he recognised the symptoms immediately, so he swept her up and carried her through the driving rain, across the small lawn in the herb garden and in through the backdoor of the house.

  ‘Grace!’ he called loudly the minute they were inside. ‘Grace!’

  The maid wasn’t far away at all, polishing some silver in the hall, and hearing the alarm in Lord Michael’s voice she dashed to the kitchens, and was shocked by what she saw. Miss Elizabeth, as
white as a ghost and drenched to the skin, shivering uncontrollably, being carried by a very wet and very concerned Lord Michael.

  ‘Grace, thank heaven,’ he said. ‘Run up to Miss Elizabeth’s room and draw a hot bath immediately, and pull out some warm bedclothes.’

  Without a second glance she dashed out and up the stairs to do as he said. Poor Miss Elizabeth.

  ‘We’ll be lucky if you don’t catch pneumonia,’ he said to the ailing girl cradled in his arms, genuinely afraid that such a thing could happen.

  Wrapped up in his arms and out of the driving rain she started to feel a little better, but she was afraid to look at him; and too ashamed, as well, because once again her obstinate nature had gotten her into a dreadful mess.

  ‘We must get you out of these wet things immediately,’ he continued, and as quickly as he could he followed the maid and carried Elizabeth up the stairs. When they entered her bedroom he was relieved to find it warm and cosy, a comforting fire already burning nicely in the grate. Grace was running the bath, and there was a thick flannel nightgown laid out upon the bed.

  ‘Thank you, Grace,’ he acknowledged the efforts of the maid. ‘Now go downstairs and brew some tea. Bring it up nice and hot and sweet.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the maid said, bobbing politely before she disappeared again.

  Elizabeth’s shivering was now intermittent, and as soon as Grace had left he carried her to the bathroom, where he stood her on her feet, stripped her quickly, and carefully helped her into the steaming tub.

  It felt extremely hot to the chilled Elizabeth and she winced and complained, but the scald only lasted a few seconds, and then the warmth seeped through her flesh into her bones, and her teeth at last stopped their chattering.

  Her nose was beginning to run, and Lord Michael, having removed the soaked raincoat, finding his own clothes wet but tolerable, dipped into his pocket and handed her his handkerchief.