Eternally Seduced: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set

by Marian Tee

  He sighed in pleasure.

  She smiled, liking it when her patient was obviously feeling better under her care. “Is that good, sir?”

  “Yes, it is.” Her patient was a very handsome man, young, tanned, and strong, but his affliction had rendered him bedridden for months and it was only now that he had started to recover from his illness.

  She smiled at him like a proud mother, seeing how strong he had become since she had been hired as his private nurse.

  She carried on with her ministrations for half an hour, kneading his temples, knowing which parts and points to target to eliminate tension. He shifted in the bed, his eyelids closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

  He was facing her now, whereas a while ago he was lying on his back. This forced her to change her position so she could massage him better. Again, she leaned forward, her breasts brushing his face---

  Oh!

  He yawned and, with her breasts smashed against his face, her suddenly puckered nipple was caught between his lips.

  Oh!

  How would she be able to---

  He started to suck her nipple, even covered as it was with the starch linen of her nurse’s uniform.

  Was this truly happening?

  She couldn’t make a sound, her eyes darting wildly around his room. Thank goodness this was at least a private room! If someone caught them now---

  He started sucking harder and harder.

  She forgot about everything. “Rathe.”

  He looked up with a grin, releasing her nipple. “You forgot your role.”

  “I couldn’t help it,” she wailed. “It was too much!”

  Laughing, he scooped her into the bed and laid her on top of him. “Let me please you then.” It was the only heads-up she got before he was taking off her clothes and his. In the blink of an eye, they were both naked and in another swift movement, he had reversed their positions, with Mary lying flat on her back and Rathe rising over her like a god.

  She was mesmerized. “Rathe.”

  He groaned. “You have to stop seducing me so innocently, little pearl.” He bent down, kissing her hungrily, not letting her respond. He sucked her tongue, her lower lip, and when it was no longer enough, he moved down, sucking her neck.

  “No,” she said breathlessly when she felt him sucking harder than he should.

  But he ignored her protest, sucking even harder, needing to mark her. “So sweet and tempting, my little pearl.” He moved down, kissing a straight line down the valley of her breasts before he cupped them, one in each hand. He began to play with her nipples, pulling them and pinching them in ways that made her squirm and moan.

  “Rathe.”

  “Say my name again,” he urged her.

  She looked down at him with eyes cloudy with need for him. “Rathe.”

  Yes. It really was the best aphrodisiac, that voice of hers. It was made for the bedroom and he knew at that moment he would do everything possible to prevent any other man from hearing her speak like that. It was too potent, that voice, able to make any man come if she so willed it.

  He teased each nipple with his tongue, and when she was writhing helplessly, he gave in to her wordless demands and sucked on her nipple, one at a time.

  After, he moved down, not releasing her breasts as he kissed her navel. Finally, he reached the triangle of flesh between her thighs, which she instinctively clamped together as if she had a secret to protect.

  “Let me see it,” he commanded.

  With a sigh, she slowly parted her trembling legs.

  Her pussy was beautiful, completely shaved, its pink flesh glistening with moisture. He swiped his finger on her flesh and sucked on it.

  A sob of pleasure escaped her at the sight of Rathe sucking his finger, taking in her essence. “Rathe,” she moaned, her fingers sinking into his hair and gripping it tightly.

  He acquiesced, moving down to thrust his tongue into her heat.

  A scream broke past her lips.

  He fucked her with his tongue, relentlessly, wanting to hear his shy and lovely girl scream his name.

  And she did, crying out his name over and over.

  When her cries became hoarse, her body shuddering uncontrollably, he knew it was time. He moved up, licking his lips before his mouth closed over her clit.

  “RATHE!” Her orgasm took her by surprise, a tornado of pleasure that didn’t give her any moment to breathe and prepare herself for the onslaught of sensation. She shook. She screamed. She loved.

  When she floated down, she found herself draped on top of Rathe. Propping herself up, she asked tremulously, “You---”

  “I find pleasure in making my little pearl go wild.”

  She blushed.

  “You were like a hellcat.”

  Her blush turned from pink to red. She shook her head, still in a sensual daze. “It was just so…” She bit her lip. “I wanted you to take my…”

  He shook his head, making her voice trail off. “Not now, little pearl. And not like this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because your virginity…it’s a gift I want to treasure. And when I do take it, I don’t want it to be because we aroused each other with sex games and role playing. When we do it, I want it to be us.”

  The words had her hugging him tightly, surprising him and making him smile even as a tight indescribable feeling started in his chest.

  “I love you,” she whispered, her voice shy and awkward.

  He kissed her hair, inhaling her scent and liking that it now mingled with his. “Why are you so shy?” he asked idly, twirling her hair around his fingers. It was not his custom to talk with his bed partner but Mary was…his mistress. Mary…loved him. It was different between them.

  “It’s not that I’m just shy,” she admitted after a while. “It’s because…I’m afraid. I’m scared that most men are like my stepfather. They look so…normal when you don’t really know them but underneath they’re…monsters.”

  He embraced her tightly, silently promising her his strength.

  “And you?” she whispered after a beat. “People always say you’re cold…”

  “Do you think I’m cold?”

  “I never did.”

  He heard the truth in her voice and again there was that tight sensation in his chest, squeezing and squeezing until he had a hard time breathing. “I need to be cold to be strong.” He looked down, cupping her face as he told her seriously, “Like I want to be strong for you. My coldness is my strength and that shall be your protection against anyone who tries to harm you.”

  She held his hand and kissed it. “I’ll be your shield then. With me, you can stop being cold while I hide you from the world. I’ll protect you too, Rathe.”

  That night, she slept in his arms. When he woke, he carefully disengaged himself and padded towards the study. He called his lawyer, intending to retract his request for a contract for Mary, but he did not get a word edgewise.

  Wilson said, “The contract’s ready. Do you want me to send it over now? Good thing you had me do this. It will make sure that if people do find out you are having an affair with someone in her teens, we can let them know there’s a contract between you and that she was advised by her lawyer – does she have one by the way?”

  He said slowly, “No.”

  “Then we’ll find her one, someone who’s really good so it doesn’t seem like we’re taking advantage of her. This is a good call on your part, Your Grace. Pedophiles and perverts don’t bother being business-minded when confronted with their obsessions. They lose their brains and let their penises decide for themselves. But you and your father are different---”

  “My father has a similar contract?”

  “A pre-nup with your mother,” Wilson said suavely, not bothering to let the duke know that it was at Alyssa’s insistence that Warren Wellesley had her sign one. “So,” he said briskly, “shall I send it to you now?”

  He said quietly, “Yes.”

  It
would be all right, he told himself. If his parents had agreed to a similar contract, then there was no reason why something similar would be wrong between them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “This is such a strange place,” she told him the next day as he took her out to dinner. The restaurant was beautiful but dimly lit and only had a few tables scattered around the room. There was an ocean of space between each table, making her wonder if the people here had antisocial disorders.

  “Is this a place for nobility?”

  Actually, it was a place for men like him and mistresses like her but he did not think she needed to know that. He helped her to her seat before taking the seat across her. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Because I feel like only dukes like you need this much space from regular people like me.”

  He said dryly, “You know you just said in a roundabout way that I’m a snob, don’t you?”

  She quickly hid herself behind the huge menu. “Mm…what’s good in this place?” A hand touched her knee under the table and she jerked in her seat, her knees moving up and causing the entire table to rattle.

  “Rathe!”

  “Snobs surely don’t do that…or this…” His fingers crept up.

  She quickly clamped her hand over his. “I’m sorry. I take it back.”

  He smiled. “Are you sure you want to take it back?”

  When he put it that way, Mary was torn. “Umm…”

  Laughing, he said, “Later.”

  They enjoyed their dinner leisurely, Mary relaxing after a few minutes when she realized that no one in this place truly cared about them. What a strange, strange place this was, Mary thought. But if it meant enjoying privacy when dining out, she didn’t care how strange it was. She loved it.

  As their plates were taken away in preparation for their dessert, Rathe said, “I have something for you to consider.”

  Oh my God, something to consider…

  Was that the ducal way of saying he was about to propose?

  She cleared her throat. “Go on.” Did that pass as a future duchess’ way of saying she was so going to say yes if he proposed? The thought that she was too young and he was too old didn’t even cross her mind.

  “Here.”

  She looked at him, expecting a tiny box but instead what she got was…a manila envelope? Confused, she opened the envelope and took out a sheaf of papers. She paled, realizing what it was.

  “A contract,” she said dully.

  “Yes. For formalities sake.”

  She tried to be reasonable about it, doing her best to keep her fingers from shaking as she went through it, page after page, her eyes getting blurry as she reached the end.

  In case of separation…

  In case of infidelity…

  In case of financial monies owed by the contracted partner…

  All of it amounted to the same thing. That Rathe, the Duke of Wellesley, had the right to treat her like a whore, to cheat on her, to make a fool out of her but as the mistress, she only had the right to spread her legs for him.

  “Did you read this?”

  “Yes,” he lied. He had not been able to, but if it was what his parents had signed, then it should be good enough.

  Her heart shattered at Rathe’s answer. He had truly read this? And he still presented it to her? “Why?” she whispered. “Why would you do this to me?”

  He hated how defensive she made him feel, knowing that he was not doing anything wrong. He felt guilty and he despised himself for being so weak. He was not in the wrong here. She was the one who was wrong, the way she was being overly sensitive.

  His cold ducal mask had slipped into place, and the Rathe Wellesley she loved was no more. “Shouldn’t the question be the other way around, Mary? Why would you not do this for me?”

  “Because it’s not how love works.”

  He hissed, “Stop looking at me like I betrayed you.”

  She didn’t speak, only continuing to look at him like he was the worst scum on earth.

  “If you love me, you will do this for me.”

  Mary said numbly, “You don’t want me to love you. You want to own me. I’m not even a person…” She broke off, unable to believe that everything she believed in – that everything she had hoped for them was just an illusion. “I have to go.”

  That tight feeling in his chest disappeared, to be replaced by something fiery and wild, something that tasted like…panic.

  She was on her feet now.

  “If you leave, don’t expect me to run after you.”

  “I don’t expect anything anymore, Rathe.” But she didn’t leave right away, hoping and waiting that he would tell her he was wrong. She would swallow any excuse---

  His tone was icy when he asked, “Why are you still here?”

  With a choked cry, she left.

  He stayed there for a long time, unable to accept that Mary was indeed gone. He looked down at the papers he had asked her to sign. Had he been so wrong about her? Was he different from his mother? Was he truly the pedophile and not his father, and he had just been conned by a gold-digging Lolita of his own making?

  He took the papers and read it, needing to know what had made Mary change her mind and reveal her true self.

  The first few lines were standard, followed by---

  Bloody fuck.

  How could his mother have signed something this vile? And how the bloody hell could he have been so stupid to make Mary sign a contract that demanded she proudly call herself not as a mistress but a whore?

  ****

  With nowhere to go, Mary found herself going back to her dorm room, where her piranha still resided while its custom-designed aquarium was being built.

  She always had a spare key hidden in the hallway and she took it, hoping to God that she would not chance upon Camille using it as a spare room for playing with her boyfriends.

  She stumbled inside and locked the door. Her room was dark and vacant, with a slightly musty scent to it. She supposed the caretaker for her piranha didn’t consider cleaning the room a part of his job. Her piranha was still awake.

  “Hey.”

  It chomped its jaws.

  At least some things didn’t change. She really should have played it safe and stuck to her piranha.

  A few miles away, the computer that the spy cam was attached to started to beat, indicating that its motion sensors had detected movement. The sound woke Bartholomew up, who had been holed up all this time in the basement of an old friend who owed him money. His wife, the prostitute-turned-junkie, was upstairs, snoring next to her latest client.

  He hurried to his computer, typing furiously to access the camera. He had recently paid someone to break into the room to replace the camera’s battery, knowing there was a chance Mary would come back to it.

  Now that she had, it was his time to make a move…for good.

  He drove beyond the speed limits and parked a good distance away from the school. Security had gotten lax with him never making an appearance, although Bartholomew knew that the manhunt for him still continued.

  It took almost half an hour before he was able to cross the yard and break into the dorm, smashing the pane of glass of the door to reach its knob. Inside, the startled resident head dropped the glass of milk she was holding. He moved fast, knocking her out with one hit to her head. She fell to the floor.

  This time, he would not be denied saving his stepdaughter. This time, whatever happened he would save her from herself, like a good father would.

  Using his duplicate, he unlocked the door as quietly as he could and locked it behind him. He must have made a sound because Mary rose from the bed. “Who is it?”

  He didn’t answer.

  He didn’t have to. A second later, she started to scream but again she was too late, Bartholomew lunging for her.

  Something flashed in the dark.

  A knife.

  And he pressed it to her throat. “You know what you shouldn’t do, don’t you?”


  She almost nodded and if she had, the blade would have cut through her skin. She choked out, “Yes.”

  “Now, be a good girl and take off your clothes.” His teeth gleamed in the dark as he grinned. “I’ll enjoy the show and after that, I’ll save your soul as any good father would.”

  ****

  He called her but she didn’t answer. He even called Camille, but she too was unavailable. Where would she go? She had no family. Saffi wasn’t around. She only had---

  Her piranha.

  Knowing Mary, she probably considered that her family and would have gone to it if she felt…alone. He drove to her university, feeling like something was about to go wrong. On his way, he called for the police. He didn’t give a fuck if it was a false alarm. He would gladly pay the penalty. But if it wasn’t a false alarm---

  His heart nearly exploded at the fear that tried to strangle it.

  Please God, let her be all right.

  Rathe drove his car to a screeching stop in front of her dorm and jumped out of his car, not bothering to switch the engine off. The sight of the shattered glass and the unconscious resident head had him sprinting up the stairs. Please God, let her be all right---

  He burst through the door.

  There was blood everywhere.

  No.

  “Rathe?”

  The tiniest sound.

  He looked up, unable to breathe, wondering what he would do if it was an apparition. If it was, it didn’t matter. He realized now that he needed her too much and that without her – he might as well have existed in the dark.

  It was her, and she was shaking so badly.

  He switched the light on.

  Bloody hell.

  The corpse of Bartholomew Grenville was on the ground, his head half torn off and with chunks of flesh missing. Inside the aquarium floated a half-chewed ear.

  “God, Mary.” He stepped towards her but she stepped back, her eyes wide with fear.

  “I’m not going to hurt you---”

  “I don’t want you involved,” she sobbed.

  He started breathing again, knowing now that it wasn’t because she hated or feared him that she wanted to be away from Rathe. “The fuck I’m not going to be involved.” In one stride, he was next to her and she was in his arms, sobbing against his chest.