London!

by Terri Pray

  Where was James?

  No, she didn't need to think about where that man was.

  “You look refreshed.” He glanced up for a moment from the papers strewn across his desk. “Rest by the side of the fire until I am ready for you.”

  “Yes, master.”

  Celeste took a quick look around the room as she walked quietly over to the large cushion at the side of a familiar looking chair. Didn't he have one just like this in his main house?

  It made sense, a man like Davien kept the sort of things around him that he found comfortable. He had the money, he had the power and position, why would he then settle for what would be, in his mind, second best?

  The simple answer was that he wouldn't.

  Celeste settled down on the red and black cushion and then leaned against the side of his chair. Even with the bath she could still feel the ache in her limbs and she couldn't help but wonder how long it would take before she recovered fully from the trip. What about Davien? How was he feeling?

  She glanced back over at the working man. The papers had been sorted out into separate piles from what little she could see from this angle and he was bent over one pile of them, a pen in hand that he dipped in the ink well at fairly regular intervals. Whatever he was seeing to now had to be important, matters that would be taken care of during their stay in London? No, not just things that could be dealt with here but ones that had to be seen to within a few days.

  He didn't speak or even look up as she watched him through heavy lids. It wouldn't take much and she'd fall asleep right there on the cushion.

  Would he be upset if she closed her eyes for just a short while?

  She doubted it. He did believe in taking care of his property and rest was a much needed part of that care. Especially after the trip they had both endured.

  Celeste tried to swallow a yawn and failed.

  “Rest my slave. There's no point you fighting the need to sleep. Just rest.”

  She looked up towards the source of the voice and met his gaze. For once there was no signs of coldness or cruelty in his eyes. Just a deep concern for the woman that now curled on the cushion. Then it was gone, vanished as if it had never existed as he turned his attention back to the papers on his desk.

  Which was the real Davien? The one that liked to make her scream or the one that wished her to rest and be healthy?

  That was the confusing part, they were both real and either one of them could turn her world upside down in the blink of an eye. She might never truly know him, or understand where he was coming from. All she could do was listen to him and try to make sense of things as they occurred.

  The warmth of the fire beckoned her to rest, the calm room, the soft pillow and the knowledge that she would not be punished for closing her eyes all added to the sirens song that sleep had become.

  Yes, time to sleep.

  With another yawn threatening to split her face wide Celeste settled down at the side of his chair and closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER VII

  Confusion reigned as she woke on a mat, not on the cushion she had fallen asleep on. She still wore the same clothing so she hadn't been stripped off despite his normal preferences for how she slept. No cage, that had been a moment that had left her trying to figure out what had happened and it had taken a moment before she recalled his words about earning a mat instead of a cage.

  So had he carried her up into the bedroom?

  She pushed up slowly onto her hands and peered over the bed. Yes he was there, asleep by the looks of things. What time had he left the study? It had been after ten when she'd fallen asleep, that much she could be sure of, so it wasn't unreasonable to think they had been in the study another hour before he had finally left the room.

  Celeste tried to stretch out but something was caught about her ankle.

  A chain? Well that made sense, she'd earned her way out of a cage, but not into the ability to roam about the house at will. If nothing else it would prevent James from trying to frame her for something.

  Frame her for what?

  Not that it mattered, she was safe for now at the foot of Davien's bed. He wasn't about to let her wander around the room, let alone the house, until he knew for certain she could be trusted here in London.

  Could she be?

  If Blue was here there was a chance she could find a way to be...

  No, she couldn't just walk away and leave him, no matter if she had the chance to go or not. Davien knew that, he'd taken pains to let her know he understood the situation. God, what was she going to do now?

  Accept the situation and find the best way to live with it?

  He did care for her, or it appeared he did in some small way. He could have left her down on the cushion in the study where she would be at the mercy of James or anyone else who might stumble across her. James might have made life interesting for her and not in a good way.

  What had she done to deserve someone like James trying to cause problems for her?

  Celeste shifted a little on the mat, the heat she had known the night before had returned as she watched the bed. Unchained she might have been able to do something about it. Perhaps, if given the chance, she could have crawled over to him and awoken him with her lips.

  Had she become that willing a slut?

  Yes, she had and there was no point in denying it.

  The dreams through her long sleep had been enough to torment even a confirmed nun, but for a woman that had been taught well the meaning of pleasure they had only added to her growing need.

  She could have eased the ache in her body just by sliding her fingers down over her taut stomach and between her thighs. A touch here, a light brush there and it would have been enough to bring her quickly to the point of release.

  But what if he found out?

  Would he approve?

  No, she didn't think so. Davien had never granted her permission to touch herself there and until she was sure it wouldn't be a problem she wasn't about to try. Which left her with an uncomfortable dilemma as she squirmed on the mat.

  Each breath teased her senses as the silken gown whispered over her flesh. She whimpered and bit into her bottom lip, her hands clenched tighter with each passing moment until she drove her nails into her palms.

  She would control it, no matter what the heat, that wanton need, would not take control of her body.

  Foolish.

  There was nothing she could do except wait it out and hope he would show her some measure of mercy during the day.

  “Awake Celeste?”

  “Yes, master.” She whispered and pressed her thighs tightly together.

  “You slept hard and long my girl. You must have been worn out.”

  She sat up and peered across the bed. “Yes master. Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, it was needed. I think we were both far more worn out than we expected after that long trip.” Davien rolled out of the bed, his bare feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. “But we have an easy day ahead of us. The first of the dinners will be tomorrow which gives us today to become reacquainted.”

  She had more than a good idea just what he meant by that. Her cunt rippled at the thought of his touch. It had been too long, especially with the pain and service she had known at Malcolm's hands. Perhaps she had deserved being left to suffer with her needs but if he would give her the chance to enjoy his touch again then she was not going to argue with him on that, or fight his caress.

  “Was there much in the way of work for you to look through last night?” She smiled as he walked around the edge of the bed. “It looked like you had a lot to do.”

  “A few things I had to take care of.”

  He wore nothing at all instead of the odd looking union suits she had seen her father wear. A strange looking outfit that looked almost like a second skin, made of soft wool, but they did work well in keeping the chill off in the winter. And gave her father something to throw on. It was either that or a nightshirt, long and tattered in h
er father's case. But with Davien she had grown used to seeing him naked when he arose in the morning.

  “Do you wish to unchain me, master?”

  “No, I believe I can put you to use like this. Stand up and lean over the bed my slut.”

  Heat flushed across her face at his words but at least she knew he wouldn't be engaging in anything that would leave her aching or bruised. With the first of the dinners only one day away it made sense to her that he would want her in good condition, but that also didn't prevent him from taking his enjoyment from her body.

  Slowly she pushed up to her feet, the manacle loose about her ankle, the chain just heavy enough that she couldn't ignore its presence. The links clinked one against the other as she moved to the bottom of the bed and rested her hands on the soft covers. She glanced back through the mane of silver blonde hair at the man who laid claim to her. His cold gaze traced openly over her form, lingered on the curve of her ass in a way that sent a shiver through her body.

  She belonged here, with him. If it meant being his slave for the rest of her life then she would find a way to accept it.

  Without another word she leaned forward, her breasts brushed by the wicked material of the gown, the robe removed easily from her body some time in the night, no doubt when he had carried her upstairs. He could have such a gentle touch at times, and at others left her screaming in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

  Her nipples crinkled against the material.

  Her stomach tightened, need rippling through her core.

  Her lower lips throbbed, coated with the liquid presence of her desire. Not so long ago she would have been ashamed at just how her body reacted to him. A response that happened before he had even touched her.

  She needed him.

  He leaned close, cupping her ass with both his hands. A tender touch but strong at the same time. He could have done almost anything to her from this angle.

  “I can feel the heat radiating from you.” His strong fingers massaged her ass. “Could it be that my little slut craves my attention?”

  “Yes, master. I do. So very much.”

  “So what shall we do about that?” He leaned a little closer to her, until his breath caressed her back, the soft material slipping between his fingers and her body. Each touch light, the promise of so much more to come. “What would my slave like me to do to her?”

  Did she truly have a choice? Between the way she needed him and the fact he owned her and could do anything he wished to her, the idea of a choice amused her.

  “I'm your slave, master, what choice do I really have except to serve you well?”

  “There are always other options. You can obey or not, just as long as you're willing to face the consequences.” He nibbled softly along her spine. “You've chosen to obey haven't you?”

  “Yes, master.” Better that than face punishment. “Why would I disobey now? When my body craves your touch.” She colored deeply even as she gave life to the words. “You've changed me master. I might want to deny it at times, but it's the truth.”

  “And now you want more from me than just a touch, don't you?”

  She groaned and leaned into his fingers as they half parted her ass cheeks through the soft gown. “Yes master, very much so.”

  “So beg for it.”

  Beg? Had she reached the stage where she could lower herself that much just to find that one blissful moment of release?

  He pressed his fingers into the tight rounded mounds of her ass, pulling at them just enough to force her thighs apart a little further. She groaned, fighting against the growing need within her sex. It wouldn't be such a terrible thing to do and she'd begged him before now, why would this time be any different?

  “Please master.”

  “Please what?”

  “Fuck me, use me. I'm yours master. Yours to do with as you wish.”

  “And if I wished to whore you out to every passing stranger?”

  “It would be your choice, master.” Celeste shuddered, fear and need combined in her stomach. She'd have no way of denying him if he truly wanted to do that to her. “I would simply have to obey you should you decide that is what you desired to do to me.”

  “True.” He whispered, leaning closer to her with each passing moment. With a soft growl he nipped at her shoulder teasing a small yelp into life. “And for now I believe I'd be happy with feeling your warm, willing cunt wrapped tight about my cock.”

  Celeste whimpered at his words and pressed back against his hand. How low she had fallen, but she no longer cared. Even in the depths of her sleep she had been aware of the heat between her thighs. Now all that mattered was finding a way to ease that need before it grew out of control completely. “Please master, fuck me.”

  “How?”

  “However you desire, just please fuck me.” She tried lifting her hips upwards, offering herself to him again. “I need to feel you inside me. I can't help it anymore. Please master.”

  He laughed and pulled her gown aside. “Such a pretty little ass.” He stroked one finger between her firm globes, brushing along her labia with the lightest of touches. “And such a wet little cunt. Does my slut need a little help here after all?”

  How much longer did he plan on tormenting her? She groaned and tried to move closer to him. “Master, I beg you, please no more. Just fuck me.”

  “Oh, I will. Soon my pet.”

  Soon? God how long did he plan on keeping her waiting? If he kept this up much longer she'd be ready to explode. She groaned at the touch of his fingers as he parted her lower lips a little further only to then stroke once against her throbbing clit.

  He shifted a little behind her, the hardness of his cock brushed against her inner thigh. Perhaps not that long of a wait after all.

  She grasped the bedding tightly and waited, parting her thighs wider. Her breasts pressed against the bed, the silken gown shifted over her body and she tried not to whimper. Tried and failed.

  His fingers dug into her hip as he pressed his other hand between her thighs and guided into her warm depths. With a low growl he thrust deep into her body, shifting the hand between her thighs to her hair, tangling a grasp into the moon touched strands. “Mine.”

  “Yes.” She arched up against him as he filled her. Her tight, slick walls rippled about his cock as he pulled back only to thrust deeply. His grasp on her hair tightened further, forcing her head up from the bed. Reigns, he'd turned her hair into reigns by which he could control her and she didn't care.

  “Move for me.”

  His words sent a wave of shame through her body. Move? Writhe? Be a sensual, wanton slut for him? She had already become that and so much more despite her original plans when she had been taken. Her inner walls clenched on his erection as she circled her hips back against him. She could feel him, every inch of his cock as he thrust deep into her body, his grasp on her hair and hip tight, unyielding as she began to dance for him.

  He released his hold on her hip and smacked down against her ass. Pain and heat washed over her being, moving deep into her body. She cried out, then clamped down hard on her bottom lip until she could taste the blood. Nothing mattered but the sheer delight she was now introduced to. It didn't matter that a normal woman would have struggled against him, fought him with her dying breath rather than give in. She no longer cared. Her body knew the pleasure of his touch, her mind struggled on occasions then tormented her through the night with the images of just what he could do to her.

  A second smack rang out through the room, then a third, a fourth and fifth following until she lost count of the blows. All that mattered was with each one her sex clamped down on his cock, her body rocked against his and the heat in her cunt grew with each passing moment. He tugged back on her hair, forcing her head further upwards until her back arched fully. Her fingers dug into the bedding, shoulders knotting, her thighs spread wide as he rocked harder, faster than before, forcing her body into shuddering waves of delight.

  “What are you?�
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  “Yours master.”

  “My what?” He twisted his finger into her hair.

  “Your slave, your property.”

  “My whore?”

  “Yes master, your whore.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Your slut, I'm anything you want me to be.”

  “How very true indeed.” He pulled back, leaving only the tip of his cock trapped between her lower lips. “And now you want to do just about anything you can at all in order to please me.”

  “Yes!” She tried to push back, to find a way to pull him deeper into her body once more, but the grip on her hair, the way he held her, kept her from moving. He had to want to thrust deeper into her body again but he refused to move. Her body ached, her muscles screamed for that one moment of release. She tried to ease back against him again but he tightened his grip in her hair. Nothing she could do.

  Her blood pounded in her ears, breath caught in the back of her throat and she could feel the pressure building to breaking point through her body. She couldn't fight it, she couldn't push that one last step over the edge, instead he left her there, so close to an orgasm that she could taste it.

  Sweat beaded across her skin, dripping down her thighs. She tasted the blood on her lips, fresh from a bite she had given herself and still he didn't move. “Please. God please master. I'm begging you, don't leave me hanging like this.”

  “Do you beg me as a woman, or do you beg me as a helpless slave?”

  “As your slave, as your helpless owned slave, master.” The words tumbled from her lips without hesitation.

  He thrust hard into her core, filling her, his balls slapping against her inner thighs. His grip tightened until she felt a handful of strands break in his grasp. She cried out, small jolts of pain burned into her scalp and she didn't care. He smacked down against her ass full force, until she screamed and she didn't care. Nothing mattered beyond the pleasure of his cock in her sex, his erection stretching the walls of her vulva and the delight she knew awaited her.

  She tasted the sweat, the blood, the passion that dripped onto her lips and knew this was were she belonged.