London!

by Terri Pray

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  London! [Celeste's Captivity III]

  by Terri Pray

  * * *

  Erotica/Historical Fiction

  Copyright ©

  ISBN

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  NOTICE: This ebook is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Duplication of this ebook by beaming, email, network, disk, paper, or any other method is a violation of international copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment.

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  CELESTE'S CAPTIVITY III

  LONDON!

  By

  TERRI PRAY

  ISBN 1-58873-995-3

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2006 Terri Pray

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.

  For information contact:

  SizzlerEditions.com

  Sizzler Editions/B&D

  A Renaissance E Books publication

  CHAPTER I

  Gravel crunched under her bare feet, the small sharp edges of the stones cut into her flesh even as she tried to hurry towards the distant gate. A chill breeze caressed her body, tormenting her naked form, each step a bringing to life a new wave of pain that she could not ignore.

  Why was she taking the risk of running from him?

  He'd find her, punish her for trying to escape and then lock her back in the cage at the foot of his bed. It wouldn't take much to anger him, she'd seen that before but this was a chance she had to take.

  But why now?

  The snort of a horse, the sound of its shod hooves on the expensive gravel told her why. The tall figure on the back of the black beast, a man wearing the tri-corn hat she recalled, the black coat and the handkerchief over his face. A form she knew all too well, a man whose image she had carried with her as a beacon of light in the darkest times.

  He'd finally come for her.

  The Raven.

  Tiny stones dug into her bare feet as she hurried towards him. The edge of his great coat caught in the wind, the large black horse he rode shied away a little from the still closed gate but at least he made no move away from her. Had he come all this way to find her?

  Her mind raced.

  How had he found her?

  Why had he come for her?

  People just didn't travel all the way from Ireland to rescue someone because of one kiss. That wasn't how life worked. Yet he was there, waiting for her on the other side of the closed gate.

  'I'll come for you my lass.'

  How many times had she heard that in her dreams? Enough that she had clung to the words during the dark times with Davien and she'd used them as a lifeline to see her through his cruel touches and sadistic needs.

  "You're here, I never thought you'd find me.” She grasped the iron bars of the gates, shaking them. Locked gates, chain binding them closed, but there had to be a way out, she couldn't make it this far only to be stopped by something as simple as a locked set of gates.

  With an easy grace he slid down from the back of the horse, his boots hitting the gravel with a soft crunch. What was he doing? Did he plan on climbing the gate or shooting the lock open? She could see the hilt of his flintlock, the smooth walnut handle stuck out of his belt, but the sound of a shot would be enough to alert the men and women back at the house. She couldn't risk that.

  "Don't shoot the lock, please."

  To come so far only to be betrayed by a sound, no a foolish notion.

  One dark eyebrow arched, almost disappearing under the brim of his hat as he lifted out a large key from the black leather pouch on his belt.

  Where had he found a key?

  "You bribed someone?” She hissed, watching as he slipped the key into the lock.

  He shook his head, turning the key and opening the gates up.

  "Well however you got the key it doesn't matter now, I guess.” She darted out from behind the gate and into his arms, half throwing herself into the safety of his embrace.

  His strong arms wrapped about her, one arm scooping under her legs as he lifted her up to cradle her against his chest. Her breath caught in the back of her throat. He was here, finally here. No more Davien, no more pain or fear, just the safe, warm arms of Ireland's best.

  "Why wouldn't I have the key?"

  His voice, it didn't sound like the Raven's. No brogue, no familiar lilt that had reminded her so strongly of the home she had been forced to leave. Instead there was something else, a familiarity that sent a shiver of fear through her near naked form.

  "Raven..."

  "What sort of a Master would I be if I failed to have a key to my own front gates?” Pale blue eyes, ones she well knew, ones that reminded her always of shards of ice, glinted from above the dark kerchief.

  Celeste screamed and reached for the cloth, tearing it from his face.

  "You're mine, my slave. My property. It's time you realized that, time you accepted that. There is no escape for you, not for as long as you live.” The hand that cradled her back slid upwards, black gloved fingers tangling in her hair as he forced his mouth down onto hers in a brutal kiss...

  Celeste half swallowed the scream as she sat bolt upright in the small cage, the top of her head barely an inch from the bars of the cage. Cold sweat coated her naked form, the thin blanket had been kicked away during the dream and now lay tangled about her feet.

  Just a dream.

  A cruel, heartless, hope destroying dream.

  He'd never come for her. Why would he? He barely even knew she existed beyond that one brief kiss so many months ago. No doubt he had kissed, fondled and loved a dozen women since that day, remembering one woman was simply expecting too much of a man like him.

  The fire flickered in the hearth as she reached out for the blanket and pulled it back over her body before glancing over at the bed. She could see him, her master, curled up beneath the soft comforter, his head resting on goose down pillows whilst she made do with a cage and a thin blanket. The days of sleeping in his bed were rare, and even then her rest within such softness came only after she had earned her place with blood, sweat and tears. She had never truly been permitted the luxury of a full night's rest in his bed.

  No, that wasn't quite true. There had been one night, just after the hunt.

  Celeste shivered.

  Not something she wanted to remember. The hunt had been dangerous and she'd seen the lengths his enemies would go to if given the chance. How close had she come to being dragged away from Davien by another man and no matter what she thought of him at least she had come to understand him. Or least accept some part of who he was.

  He's a monster.

  Yes, he was but one she at least knew. In the hands of someone else she would have to relearn the rules and perhaps would face something far worse. With him she only had to serve the members of his household when he wished it, or guests on rare occasions. With another she might find herself chained to the bed in a cheap brothel. Never to know good food, or any form of care.

  Here she was fed, had warmth, sometimes clothing and her hurts, the injuries and marks she earned under his lash, were tended. Though that was a part she still didn't understand.

  “Trouble sleeping, slut?”

  “Yes, master. Though I did not mean to disturb you.” Funny how some words had become easier both to hear and use.

  “I've become used to awakening when something interrupts your sleep.” The bed creaked as he shifted a little. “Another dream?”

  “Yes, this one not so pleasant.”

  “These things will happen, but it was just a dream.”

  She closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, master. Just a dream.”

  “Then perhaps I should give you something else to think about then?”


  Celeste shuddered, that was a tone she knew all too well. Protesting, or trying to get him to stall his plans would have been a wasted effort. When Davien Blood decided he was going to do something then hell, high water, or the entire local regiment of whatever branch of the British army was stationed near by, would have been unable to stop him.

  He eased out of the bed, his bare feet hitting the ground with a familiar thud. “It will also give you some much needed time outside of the cage, my pet.”

  “Yes, master.”

  “You don't appear to be that enthused about the idea.” Ice wrapped about his words.

  “Please forgive me master, I fear that I am still half wrapped in the dream.” She lowered down onto her stomach on the bottom of the cage as best as she could. Angering or insulting Davien was never a good idea, especially when he was in the mood to— as he called it— play. The lock clicked open with the turn of a small key but she kept her gaze lowered, still the sound caused her to tense until she forced her muscles to relax.

  “Perhaps it has been too long since I reminded you of your place with me, slut.” Another man might have growled the words, but his voice dropped into a low whisper and that she had learned to fear far more.

  “Master, please I beg of you give me the chance to show you that I was merely distracted by the dream. I never meant to offend you in any way.” Her stomach knotted. If he were truly angry with her then she might end up spending the better part of a month down in the barracks with the small but loyal band of soldiers he had gathered about himself.

  He wasn't permitted to raise an army but that hadn't prevented him from hiring men who were willing to lay down their lives for him. She didn't understand it, not fully, but there was something about the man she had come to call Master that inspired a near fanatical sense of loyalty amongst those who worked for him. If she put a step wrong then it would mean time in the barracks where she would hope and pray she could earn her way back into his good graces.

  So far she hadn't been sent there, but the threat was ever present. And she'd heard the stories, he'd made certain of that. Tales about the women who had been hired to service the men there, and the state they had left the barracks after only one night.

  “Crawl to me.”

  Celeste glanced up through her lashes as she crawled out of the cage, keeping as close to the floor as possible. Her nipples scraped against the rug just outside of the cage, the coarse fibers teased the ripe buds even as she pressed her cheek to his bare foot. Without even stopping to think about it she arched her back, lifting up her ass and parted her thighs.

  “Good, you've learned over the time we've been together haven't you pet?”

  “I hope so, master.”

  “There is still room for improvement of course, but I believe that you will be ready for the trip I have planned in the coming weeks.”

  Trip?

  Her heart missed a beat.

  What trip was he talking about? She'd heard nothing from either him or the household staff that had suggested they would be traveling any time soon.

  “You're curious?”

  “Yes master, but I know better now than to ask. If you wish to tell me then you will do so.” Sometimes curiosity was a drive best kept under lock and key around him.

  “Indeed.” She could almost hear the chuckle in his voice. “Crawl to the bed and lay on your stomach, arms and legs outstretched.”

  At least she now knew what position she was to be bound in.

  “Yes, master.”

  The rug caught under her nails, scraping at the soft skin of her palms as she crawled to the side of the bed. Plans for travel? To where? Would he dare to risk taking her back to Ireland? It was almost too much to hope for. If she did ever return there no doubt it would be under her own steam. And the only two ways that would happen were if he released her or she managed to escape.

  Her throat tightened, even her dreams now warned her that escaping him was impossible.

  Long strands of hair tickled along her bare back and stroked the sides of her breasts as she reached the side of the bed. Crawling onto it had taken some time to learn but she was now at a point where she could just about manage it without rising to her feet. Oh he'd taught her just how big a mistake that could be. When he said crawl he meant it.

  She reached up, half resting back on her heels as she grabbed the edge of the four poster and shuffled a little closer to the bed. The soft covers brushed lightly over her body, taunting her breasts with the promise of a kind caress should she make it onto the bed. Gods, a kind touch, how long had it been since she had known something like that?

  No, she didn't need to think about that now, not with the orders that would soon be ringing in her ears. With a soft grunt she pulled up onto the bed, her nipples tingling at the forced contact with the almost silken cover.

  “That's it, onto the bed little pet. And you can be such a good little animal can't you?”

  Celeste whimpered. Please no, not that. Not this time.

  “Be my little animal until I say otherwise.”

  No human speech permitted, no standing, walking, or doing anything that an animal wouldn't be capable of doing. Even her begging now had to come in the form of growls, whines or whimpers.

  Why does he do this to me? I hate this part of it. I'm human, not a beast.

  She already knew the answer. He did it exactly because she hated it, because he could force her to be something she despised. The more she fought it the greater the pleasure for him. And she had yet to learn how to shield her emotions from her face.

  “Arms and legs, pet.”

  She dropped down fully onto her stomach, stretching out her arms and legs towards the corners of the bed.

  Thick, padded leather cuffs were quickly locked about her limbs. A pillow pressed under her hips in order to lift up her ass before he tightened down the straps. Only then did he permit himself the chance to touch her.

  He leaned in and rested his hand against the taut curves of her naked ass. “Such white skin, so easily marked, and it is so tempting to change it to another color.”

  She knew just the colors he had in mind and fought the urge to whimper.

  “You'll squirm well for me this morning, won't you beast.”

  She nodded quickly.

  “Not that you have any other choice. Not with how I plan on using you.”

  Using her, that's all she was to him, a toy to be used, marked, given chance to heal sometimes, then used all over again. Though he had given her enough time recently that even the pale yellow bruises had faded. Her skin had returned to the alabaster white that he enjoyed exploring. To him her body was nothing more than a living canvas and he the mad artist prepared to go to any lengths to create the patterns he wished.

  His hand lifted up from her ass only to crack down without warning.

  She gasped, then clenched her teeth together, a soft rock playing through her hips as she then pressed down against the cushion. Heat radiated out from the center of the strike as he lifted his hand back away from her body.

  Would there be a second strike?

  She tensed, waiting for the blow...

  Nothing.

  Slowly she began to relax. Had he moved away from the side of the bed and she simply hadn't heard him? Or was he just watching her, waiting for the right moment until she had...

  His hand impacted against her other ass cheek. Harder than the first blow, sharper, his hand lifting away from the stinging flesh before she had even had the chance to fully register the blow. Then it began, the rapid series of strikes, first one ass cheek, then the next as she hissed and squirmed against the bed.

  Just a spanking, god please let him keep it to just a spanking.

  Heat spread out across her cheeks, seeping in between her thighs as her sex responded to the blows. Soft trickling warmth spread through her parted lower lips, her body knew what would eventually happen, it expected his touch between her thighs at some point and worse still, craved that
side of it.

  Pain led to pleasure, pain became pleasure, pain, humiliation, subjugation and his control all meant she might be found pleasing enough to know that moment of sheer release under his touch. Please him, react as a wanton beast, as the toy he had told her she was, accept the training, accept his desires and the pleasure would come in wave upon wave of sheer delight.

  No, I'm not a beast. I'm a woman, a human being, I don't have to do this. I won't be this for him.

  But she already was.

  She had been claimed, taught, trained and her body knew it even if her mind refused to accept it.

  Crack.

  Her hips jerked against the cushion.

  The sound of his hand striking her flesh echoed in her ears. Her body pressed tight to the bedding, hips rocking with each blow only to then lift up to him, knowing the next strike would soon follow. Tears stung her eyes as she knew how she was reacting to the spanking, to the training. There was no avoiding this, not if she wanted to live and despite everything he put her through she did still want to live.

  “Such a nice color, but it's only the start of things. You know that don't you?”

  Celeste whimpered.

  “A spanking isn't going to be enough. Not for what I want.”

  She tensed and wrapped her hands about the chains that were connected to the wrist restraints. Whatever he had planned wasn't going to be pretty.

  He stepped away from the side of the bed and though she didn't dare to watch him she knew only too well what chest he opened when the hinges creaked. The toy chest. The one she had learned to fear. Too many interesting toys in there for her taste, not that she had a say in what would happen, but if there was one box, one chest in the entire house she would happily see destroyed it was the one he opened now.