Savage Nights: The Savage Trilogy
Page 5
Unlike other gentlemen who had begun to wear less formal clothing for riding, tweed jackets and derby hats, he preferred to remain firmly in the older style. He wore a black frock coat that came to the middle of his thighs, snug buff trousers tucked into top boots, black gloves, and a snowy white shirt with a white silk neckcloth. On his head was a gleaming beaver hat with a high crown and a curved brim, also in black.
Everything was tailored exactly to accentuate his imposing frame, as his clothes always were. On another man so much black would be funereal, but it suited him with his dark hair and light eyes, making him stand out even more. He’d told me once that he felt misplaced in the modern world of electricity and motorcars and that he’d much rather have been born in the dashing, dangerous age of men like Wellington and Byron.
Yet that was the kind of man that Savage was, darkly elegant yet with a hint of animal wildness. It didn’t matter if we were playing the Game or not: he was still my Master. No wonder I found him so intensely attractive.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” I called to him, making as much of a curtsey as I could manage with the trailing skirt of my habit over one arm as I walked. As was the fashion, my habit was mannishly severe, with a row of tiny buttons up the tight, corseted bodice and sleeves over the draped skirt. My hat echoed Savage’s in style, although I wore mine pinned at a flattering angle and the black silk netting of the trailing veil gave it a decidedly feminine touch.
I knew the habit was becoming to me, and yet from the way that Savage looked at me as I approached I might as well have been naked. His gaze swept over me with a familiar possessiveness that was slightly predatory, and I felt myself shiver as if he’d touched me already.
“Mrs. Hart,” he said, touching the brim of his hat to me. “I’m glad you are here. I’ve heard that American women are veritable Amazons in the saddle. Are you?”
“I am reasonably accomplished, my lord,” I said. “I won’t lag behind you or hold you back, if that is what you fear.”
He raised a single skeptical brow, taking that as a challenge. I hadn’t intended it that way. I was a skilled rider, not that parading up and down in a park would be much of a test. But I’d do better to let Savage judge me himself; he would anyway.
A groom was already leading out a smart bay mare for me as well as a sturdy chestnut for my servant. Both were better than most hired horses, and I suspected Savage had taken care with the choice. I was glad that he wasn’t objecting to having my servant ride behind us. The man would stay back behind us as we rode, out of our hearing, but his presence would give me an aura of respectability. I had heard Laura’s warning, and I could see the wisdom of a certain degree of propriety. I wanted to be with Savage, yes, but I didn’t want to become notorious because of it.
With that in mind I was relieved that Savage stood back as I used the mounting block to climb onto the lady’s sidesaddle and let my servant hand me my reins and adjust my stirrups. As I arranged the drape of my skirts over my legs I couldn’t help but watch as Savage mounted his own horse in a single athletic motion. He swung his horse around to join mine, and together we rode through the arched gate of the stable yard and towards the wide avenue through the park inelegantly known as Rotten Row.
Despite its name, the sand-covered bridleway was a beautiful place to ride at this time of day. It was surprisingly peaceful, for all that we were in the middle of London. The sun was low on the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees that lined the avenue, and Savage set an easy pace, little more than a walk, so that we could converse.
“You didn’t lie, Eve,” he said. “You do ride well. But then, I should have guessed as much from our past … experience.”
I looked up quickly through the haze of my veil and smiled, glad that we were alone so that he could call me by the name he’d invented for me, instead of my husband’s surname.
“Thank you, Master,” I said simply, happily falling back into the Game.
He grunted, pleased I’d done so. “I’ve missed you, Eve,” he said with unexpected honesty. “I do not like sharing you with others.”
“I missed you, too, Master,” I said softly. “Lady Carleigh has become my friend, but I prefer to be alone with you.”
“As it should be,” he said. “Now tell me of your challenge last night.”
“I did exactly as you bid me do, Master,” I said quickly. “I walked through the lobby by myself, dressed as I was, spoke with the clerk at the desk, and then rode in the lift to my suite.”
“That’s not what I meant, Eve,” he said, a slight irritation in his voice. “Anyone could have told me that.”
“Forgive me, Master,” I said, bewildered. “But I thought that—”
“Do not think, Eve,” he ordered. “Only feel. Feel, and remember that this was to have been a challenge.”
I nodded, and in confusion I looked before me as I strived to collect my thoughts. The crowds that usually thronged both the avenue and the adjacent walks had gone home to prepare for the evening. In addition to a few solitary gentlemen there were small groups of officers from the Household Cavalry in their scarlet tunics and plumed silver helmets, exercising their horses along the row.
I was the only lady in sight.
It had been the same way in the Savoy’s lobby early this morning, when I’d walked past all the leering men. The only difference was that with Savage at my side the men we passed on horseback now might steal a glance in curiosity, but most only nodded at me in respect. None of them would dare appraise me as freely as the men had this morning.
But that was what Savage had wanted, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that the challenge he’d set for me? For me to experience what it was like to be ogled and desired by strangers?
“I thought I was accustomed to being a woman alone when I entered the hotel, Master,” I began slowly. “I thought I knew what to expect from the challenge. But it wasn’t like anything else I’d done before, ever.”
“Go on,” Savage said, his eyes hooded but bright with interest. “Tell me more.”
“If it pleases you, Master.” I swallowed and continued. “I knew that no one could tell what I wore beneath my coat. That coat is heavy, as furs can be, and no one else would know that I wasn’t wearing a corset, let alone petticoats, or a camisole, or even drawers. No one could have known, and yet I was certain somehow that every man I passed did.”
“Why did you think that?”
“From how they looked at me,” I said. “It began with the doorman who tried to help me from your motorcar. He didn’t say or do anything that was not respectful, and yet I could see the longing in his eyes.”
“I warned you that men sense these things about a woman,” Savage said. “They can tell when she has been fucked, and how much she relished it. In countless inexplicable ways, you displayed your satisfaction. Your eyes were heavy with pleasure, your mouth swollen from my kisses, your walk languid with satisfaction.”
I nodded, remembering. “All of those things, Master. And yet it wasn’t that I was shameless, but fearless. Because of you, I was proud of who I was.”
I expected him to smile, but his mouth remained a solemn, implacable line. He took being my Master very seriously.
“Because in that moment,” he said, “you were not a lady, but a woman. What was your response to this attention?”
I gave a little shake to my shoulders. “I told you, Master. I was proud of it, and I was—”
“No, Eve,” he said patiently. “I wish to hear of how your body responded to being the center of so much male desire. Did it arouse you? Did you feel the heat in your quim?”
“Oh.” I blushed behind my veil. I shouldn’t have. With Savage I’d learned to speak with a frankness that would have stunned me a month ago. But somehow the combination of wearing a restrictive, formal riding habit along with being in the middle of Hyde Park with my groom riding behind me made that same frankness more difficult to repeat. I felt once again like Mrs. Hart, not the Innocent Eve.
I nodded, though my thoughts were spinning. I didn’t know why I was suddenly so modest. I didn’t want to displease Savage. I never wanted to do that, not after he’d done so much for me.
In desperation I tried to recover my memories of this morning and find the words to describe what he’d requested of me. It was as if by wearing my usual, confining corset and clothes I’d lost all of my newfound freedom and returned to my old, restricted self. I felt an uneasy, unladylike sweat gathering beneath my habit and my chemise, trickling between my breasts, and I was acutely aware of the muffled, rhythmic sound of our horses’ hooves on the sand-covered avenue, the rustle of the evening breeze through the leaves overhead, and the creak of my mare’s leather saddle.
Yet most of all I sensed Savage’s growing unhappiness beside me. He sighed, and my despair increased. What was wrong with me? How could I have survived the challenge itself, only to fail him in the telling of it?
“Eve, please,” he said, and to my surprise his voice had softened in a way that made me long to please him all the more. “I simply want to share the challenge with you, that is all.”
“I do not wish to disappoint you, Master,” I confessed with frustration.
“You never do that, Eve,” he said, soothing me. “Not you. Now remember last night. Remember how we left Wrenton in the middle of dinner. Remember the red silk dress with the black lace that you wore, with nothing beneath it. No corset, no drawers. That pleased me very much. You were wearing it still this morning at the Savoy.”
“Beneath my fur,” I continued with a little hitch of emotion in my voice. Hearing him describe what I’d worn made my task easier. “Last night I’d felt very daring wearing a dress like that. I knew it would make me more … more accessible to you.”
“It did,” he said. I heard the rawness in those two words, revealing perhaps more than he intended. “It pleased me, too. Very much.”
I nodded, my memories returning along with my confidence.
“Wearing a dress like that, I didn’t need a lady’s maid,” I said. “In the motorcar, I pulled it over my head. I sat across your legs and rode your cock as we drove, and you squeezed my breasts, and I rocked with the movement of the motorcar to make it better for us both. And because it was you and your cock filling my … my cunt, it was perfect.”
“Perfect,” he repeated. “Now go on, Eve. Tell me more.”
I nodded and shifted in the saddle. This conversation about last night was arousing me now. I felt the familiar tension gathering low in my belly and the petaled lips of my cunt begin to swell. Surreptitiously I rubbed against the smooth, padded leather of the sidesaddle in the hope of easing some of that delicious tension.
But there was no relief, and instead the gliding pressure only made matters worse, a poor substitute for Savage himself. He was so close to me, and yet he might have been on the other side of the world for all that he would do to ease my suffering. My nipples were hard and aching from pressing against the boned prison of my corset, and I shifted once more against the saddle.
“Stop that, Eve,” Savage warned, catching me. “You’ll unsettle the horse, wriggling about like that.”
“Forgive me, Master, but I cannot help it,” I said miserably. “I want—”
“Your wanting has nothing to do with it,” he said. “You do not have my permission.”
“Yes, Master.” Like a drunkard pushing away from the bottle, I turned my gaze away from him and towards the trees, hoping that would help me control myself.
“Look at me, Eve,” he ordered, and reluctantly I did. Even after only a few moments, I was struck anew by the power his handsome face had for me. “If you finish your story to my satisfaction, then we can return to the stable, and you will be rewarded. Now continue.”
“Yes, Master,” I murmured miserably. “I will.”
I had to tense my thighs to keep my seat in the saddle, which only magnified the sensations I was feeling in my quim. I twisted the reins more tightly in my hands, trying not to move but to focus on what I said and not the heat coiling inside me—even if what I was describing for Savage was exactly what I was feeling.
“As I walked across the lobby, Master,” I began again, “I felt the silk of my dress slide over my skin, and the lace pull across my nipples. I felt your seed and my own juices slip from inside me to slide along my thighs. I let my coat fall open as if by accident, letting the men see more of my breasts beneath the red silk. It excited me to know they were admiring me and lusting for me, but the only one I wanted was you.”
He grunted. “Is that the truth, Eve?”
“Oh, yes,” I said, desire melting the words into a sigh of longing. “I felt strong and powerful and seductive, but all of it was wasted because you were not there with me. If you had not driven away, I would have run back to the motorcar to be with you. I wanted your cock, Master. I wanted you, just as I want you now.”
“We shall turn here, Eve,” he said, “and begin to make our way back to the stable. You have succeeded at the challenge. You will be rewarded.”
“Thank you, Master,” I said, my heart racing at the thought of what my reward might be. With Savage there were so many possibilities.…
The silence as we rode crackled like electricity between us, yet Savage refused to quicken the pace. Even as I sat still as I’d promised the motion of the horse beneath me was like a caress that could not be avoided. I glanced down at the front of his trousers to see if he, too, had become excited by our ride and conversation, but to my frustration his long riding coat hid any telltale signs. I hoped he shared my agitation and that those trousers were feeling abominably full and tight.
We passed another group of cavalrymen, cantering two by two back towards their barracks. I scarcely took notice of them, but Savage did.
“Did you see that, Eve?” he asked, incredulous. “Did you see how those men looked at you?”
“No, Master,” I said. “I took no notice.”
“Everywhere you go it happens,” he said as if I hadn’t spoken. “Men lust after you. It makes no difference what you wear. Even now, dressed as you are, they cannot help themselves.”
“It’s not my fault, Master,” I protested. “I’m not doing anything willfully to … to entice them.”
“That’s true,” he said. He was looking straight ahead and not at me, his profile severe. As was often the way with him, I couldn’t tell if he was angry or only making an observation. “You need do nothing, and yet it will happen, again and again. First at Wrenton, then at the hotel, and now here.”
I didn’t want him to blame me. “It’s not my fault, Savage. You must know that.”
“I do know it, Eve,” he said. “It’s simply how you are. You have always been beautiful. Now that you have been awakened to pleasure, you are irresistible as well. Your mouth, your eyes, your body. There’s a ripeness and a glow to you. Men cannot keep themselves from desiring you.”
“It’s never been like that for me before,” I protested. “You’ve made me that way, Master.”
“I won’t deny it,” he agreed. “Nor do I regret it, for I’ve benefited, too.”
He fell quiet again, forcing me to ask the inevitable question.
“This … this change in me,” I said carefully. “Are you happy with me as I am now?”
He frowned with obvious disbelief.
“Why wouldn’t I be happy?” he asked. “You are as close to perfection as any Innocent I have ever encountered. With more education, you will be perfect.”
“Thank you, Master,” I said, unable to keep from smiling with joy behind my veil. “But I meant about the men who look and desire me.”
“That is different.” He shook his head, his jaw tightening briefly, a
nd I thought uneasily of how quickly—and violently—his temper had flared at Wrenton when fueled with jealousy. “It doesn’t please me, no. How can it? It’s tempting to lock you away forever so that no other man could ever enjoy your beauty—someplace far from London where you’d belong only to me.”
I hadn’t expected that, and it shocked me. I thought of how he’d shut his wife away when her madness had grown uncontrollable, and I thought, too, of Laura’s earlier warning. Most of all, I remembered my wretched childhood, surrounded by security men even as I struggled to free myself from the cocoon of my father’s great wealth and paranoia.
“You couldn’t do it,” I blurted out. “I may be your Innocent, but I won’t be your prisoner, no matter what the reason. When I was a girl my father shut me away from the rest of the world, and I vowed I’d never let it happen again.”
He glared at me, as startled by me as I’d been by him, and unconsciously he tightened his hands around the reins in his hands, making his horse whinny in protest.
“I said I was tempted to do so, Eve, not that it was my actual intention,” he said roughly. “Damnation, I want you with me by choice, Eve, not force.”
“It’s because of my father,” I said, trying to explain. “I do not want to be trapped and smothered again.”
“You are free to leave me whenever you wish,” Savage said as if I hadn’t spoken. “You are not my prisoner, and never will be. You need only say you want to leave, and then go. Do you understand me?”
I nodded slowly, unsure of what had just happened.
Did that constitute a quarrel?
And if so, had I won or lost?
“I will not leave you, Master,” I said finally. “I don’t wish for that, either.”
He didn’t answer, but his face relaxed, and I dared to continue.