Awakened by a Lord: Victorian Nights

by Victoria Whitlock

  Nobody would miss this dreadfully if it were to break, I thought to myself, but at the same time it would still be oh-so naughty of me, should I be so careless as to yawn and stretch and ...

  And as just then, I indeed yawned and stretched out my hands, ensuring that my fingertips brushed the little figurine just enough to send it toppling off the side table before landing upon the hardwood floor below, where it broke into four small pieces. I quickly knelt down and gathered up the smashed figurine in the folds of my skirt, then ran back upstairs to my bedchamber, where I hid the broken pieces deep within the chest that contained all my delicate negligees, wrapping the jagged shards in a silk nightgown and stuffing the bundle right at the bottom corner of the chest.

  Oh what a naughty little girl I have been, I thought to myself with glee. I must surely be punished now!

  Later that evening, I informed Emily that I had a headache and was going to retire to my room, leaving her with the strict instructions that when my husband arrived home (for he was due at any moment), she must tell him to come upstairs to me immediately.

  And then I lay beneath the sheets, for what seemed like an age, bathed in the stillness and silence of my room, as I waited for the sound of his footstep upon the stair.

  Eventually, I heard the distant murmur of his voice – perhaps talking to Emily or one of the footmen – and then sure enough, I heard his footsteps, so heavy and distinct, making their way towards me, getting louder and louder until finally the door to my room flung open, and there was James’s face, the very picture of concern.

  “My love,” he said urgently, “Emily told me you are unwell. Is it serious?”

  But for a moment, I was unable to answer him, for I felt spellbound by the vision of him as he made his way into my room – transfixed by the perfection of his face, and the sheer broadness of his chest, and even by the manner with which the wind had ruffled his night-black hair, and by the way his body carried with it the soft musk of exertion – for it was immediately clear to me that he had been riding for hours and had not yet bathed, a detail that, for some reason, excited me further, rather than repelled me.

  And as my gaze was drawn downwards, to the brown leather riding crop in his grip, I felt a small shiver of anticipation as I remembered all over again my devious little plan.

  “Oh no,” I said in reply, “I am not unwell, dear James. I did have a little headache earlier on, but now I have taken a rest I am feeling much better.”

  “I was worried, my darling,” he replied gently. “But I am glad to hear that you are well. In which case, I shall leave you to rest, as I must go and bathe ...”

  But I did not want him to leave quite so soon, and so I decided that now was the time to own up to my little ‘accident’.

  “James wait!” I cried out, causing him to halt in the doorway and then turn back to face me, one eyebrow raised in puzzlement. “Before you go,” I continued, my voice trembling ever so slightly as I began to register just how naughty and devious I was in fact being, “I am afraid I must confess that while you were gone, I have not been a particularly good wife ...”

  “Oh?” he said, a sudden sternness entering his voice, his face darkening, his thick brows knitting as he waited for me to continue.

  “Yes, it is true,” I ventured. “In fact, I have been rather naughty indeed.”

  “How so?” he asked, once more closing the door to the room, sealing us inside my bedchamber, the very air now suddenly charged with energy and anticipation.

  “I broke something,” I explained, pushing myself up from beneath the covers and padding across to the heavy wooden chest in the corner, throwing open the lid and drawing out the bundle, opening up the silk negligee to reveal to him the broken pieces of the little figurine.

  I hardly dared look into his face as I showed him what I had done, and my poor heart seemed to be beating so hard within my body it threatened to escape my very chest!

  “You see, my darling,” I whispered timidly as I offered up the broken figurine, shooting another hopeful glance towards the leather riding crop, which he held sternly now, clenched in his fist, “I have really been rather clumsy indeed. I am such a naughty little girl. Oh, you must be so disappointed in me ...”

  There was a pause, and when he spoke again, I registered with a slight disappointment that his voice had softened somewhat, and he even gave out a little laugh as he answered me: “Oh Amelia, it is only a small accident. For a moment there you had me worried that something much more serious had taken place while I was away ...”

  “But James,” I stammered, frustrated that I seemed not to be communicating my truest and deepest wishes to him correctly, “surely I must be ... punished?”

  Again there was a pause, and as I finally allowed myself too look up into his face, I saw a devilish smile slowly spread across his lips.

  “Yes,” he said, nodding, as it seemed that he finally understood just what I was insinuating, “yes, you must be punished, mustn’t you? I can’t let my wife get away with such careless actions. In fact, I think that you deserve a thorough hiding, my naughty little wife. Do you agree?”

  “Oh yes!” I gasped, a sudden rush of excitement flooding right through me. “Yes, James, I must!”

  “Very well then,” he said. “Turn around and bare your rump to me, girl.”

  I eagerly obeyed his command, throwing myself forward onto the bed, tugging my nightgown up around my waist and then pushing down my bloomers around my thighs.

  I found I even enjoyed the anticipation, hearing the soft creak of his footsteps upon the floor behind me as he approached me, waiting for the first touch of his hand – or perhaps even that cold and cruel riding crop. And sure enough, I did feel his touch on me, his hand cupping my rump for a moment, his fingers tracing between my legs, to the very part of me that felt as if it were set aflame. And as he worked his fingers gently over my opening, teasing me, tracing the hot stickyness that seemed to seep from within me back and forth across my tender folds, I pushed my face deep into the sheets and moaned in pleasure, gripping the sheet tightly between my teeth. Then a moment later, he drew his fingers from me, paused, and then ... Swish-CRACK.

  The pain was like nothing I had experienced before – the sharp sting of the leather crop so much more focussed and intense than the crack of his hand upon my buttocks. I did not even cry out, instead sucking the air sharply between my lips at the violently intense sting, which seemed to bloom now in a tingling heat from deep within my flesh.

  “Have you learned your lesson, girl?” he asked quietly from behind me. “Or would you perhaps like another?”

  “Please, sir,” I replied, my voice quavering and trembling from the heady mix of sensations that were coursing through me, “I would indeed like another. I still feel rather ... impudent.”

  “Very well.”

  Swish-CRACK came the crop a second time upon my bare bottom, causing an even greater flash of pain than the first.

  And then a third: Swish-CRACK, and a fourth, Swish-CRACK, each fresh sting of pain causing my heart to pound and the moans to escape my lips, stifled somewhat by the sheets which I kept gripped tightly between my teeth as I writhed beneath my strict master – never before experiencing such a wonderful intermingling of pleasure and punishment, satisfying almost all parts of my trembling body simultaneously.

  But just then he stopped, and I knew then that the final satisfaction must come from something very different, from the final joining of our bodies.

  I turned to him upon the sheets, tugging my nightgown hurriedly over my head and yanking my bloomers down over my ankles, exposing my bare body beneath, offering myself to him, begging him with my eyes to take me now in the same strong and powerful way he’d done on our previous nights together.

  “But I have been riding, Amelia,” he said, with a regretful smile, “I should surely bathe before we lie together.”

  “No James,” I replied, fighting back my embarrassment as I dared speak my most innermo
st desires to him, “no I truly suspect I would enjoy you even more like this. Please, take off your clothes, so that I may breathe in your scent more fully ...”

  “Very well,” he said, hurriedly disrobing, unbuttoning his shirt, uncovering the broad strong musculature of his chest that never failed to transfix me, then his trousers and undergarments, his manhood fully thick and hard beneath, jutting out from the fuzz of black hair that surrounded it, those two large pink eggs nestled tightly beneath. And all of a sudden a curious desire to cover his body in kisses swept through me, so strong and powerfully that I knew I would never be fully satisfied until I had followed these dark wishes that my heart seemed to whisper so urgently to me now.

  I gave in to my urges the very moment he had joined me upon the sheets, both of us naked as the day we were born, free from the shackles of shame and judgement. And reader, I positively pounced on top of him, showering his body with tender little kisses, and breathing in the heady musk of his body, sending my senses into a delicious whirl as I tasted the sharp salt of his sweat, first on his chest, and then working my loving kisses even further downwards, over the taught muscles of his belly and then even further, wanting to move my face up close to his manhood, to really see it for the first time – this curious beast that had already brought me so much pleasure.

  I held it tenderly in my slender fingers, admiring its velvety smoothness as I stroked it up and down, watching it grow and swell in my grip, the purple bulbous head pulsing forth glistening droplets of clear fluid as I tenderly placed my kisses upon him there, all up and down his rod, his delicious musk filling my nostrils as I shivered from excitement, my face buried between his legs, his hands now moving to my breasts, teasing my nipples with his fingertips until they stiffened into such hard little buds beneath his touch.

  He drew my face upwards, back towards his own, and as I writhed on top of him like that, my breasts brushing against his chest, as I felt him reach down between my legs and then guide himself right into me, causing me to gasp as he once more stretched me wide open, driving himself deep into me with me lying there on top of him – an utterly new way for us to make love, and a way that I had not even considered before now.

  “Oh James, James,” I whispered as he took me, my voice trembling, my eyes closing as he held me steady by the rump, driving himself ever harder and deeper inside me, eliciting fresh pleasures from my very centre, pleasures which built ever greater until finally they seemed to crest and explode within me, causing me to gasp and moan as I felt myself clench tightly around him, my whole body bucking and shuddering as my mind flashed and fractured.

  And I had just about recovered my senses when I felt James too stiffen and shudder, and then more clearly than ever before, I felt him pulse powerfully within me, filling me with a warmth and wetness of his own, intermingling with the fluids of my body, confirming my growing suspicions that it was his body that gave forth the curious creamy whiteness that seemed to trickle from me after we had made love.

  As we nestled together afterwards, our breath intermingling, our kisses so soft tender, our bodies wrapped tightly as one, I thought to myself that one day I would like to witness with my own eyes his manhood giving forth this curious white fluid, to watch him pulse forth his loveliness, and with a naughty little smile I realised that there would be many opportunities for such a thing – many days and nights yet to come in our lives, where we could satisfy every single one of the many desires that seemed to exist inside us, just waiting to emerge.

  “Oh, Emily,” I gasped, clutching my hands to my bosom in delight. “It is without doubt the most beautiful dress I have ever seen!”

  I sat there on the bed in my undergarments, as Emily and two other servant girls displayed the dress to me. It was enormous, and cut from midnight-blue satin, with a huge, beautiful skirt. The neckline was low cut, with pretty ruffles all around the neck and bodice, and the whole thing was fashioned from the most lovely satin. Oh, the colour was just spectacular and seemed almost to change and sparkle in the light.

  It took all three of them to help me into it, it was so big, and Emily laced my corset especially tightly, a final tug sending all the breath from my lungs, my bosom pushing together in a most desirable fashion.

  Once I was fully dressed in my outfit, the girls left me alone, and I stood before the mirror looking at myself for a long time in sheer delight – for it really felt as if all my schoolgirl fantasies were finally coming true. I looked just like a princess!

  But my thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. It was Emily, returning with some sort of small red jewellery box, which she offered out to me, saying, “This is a present from your husband, madam Amelia.”

  With a mixture of delight and anticipation, I received the box and opened the lid to reveal the most beautiful silver choker, and at the centre of it, a huge heart-shaped diamond. It must have cost James an absolute fortune, I thought to myself. And as I put it upon myself, Emily exclaimed, “Oh my lady, the Hartford collar! All of us at the house have longed to see it upon the neck of a beautiful lady, where it belongs. You have brought life back to Hartford Hall.”

  Even better than James buying me a beautiful necklace, I realised, was the honour of wearing an ancient and prized family heirloom.

  And for me, of all people? Me – who came from the sleepiest, quietest place of all – to ‘bring life’ to Hartford Hall? Why, I could hardly believe it.

  I looked at myself once more in the mirror, noting with delight that the diamond sat perfectly in the hollow of my throat, sparkling, taking on the dark shimmering blues of my dress.

  I left my bedchamber and descended the stairs, to find James waiting for me at the bottom. I could not help but note that he looked rather taken aback by my beauty, his dark eyes flashing as he smiled at me, and I noted that he too was dressed in his best finery – a beautifully tailored suit of the darkest cloth, with matching waistcoat and a crisp white shirt, the cut of his clothes showing off the manly broadness of his form beneath, sending a flutter of delight and anticipation through me, as I began to imagine myself undressing him later tonight.

  “Darling Amelia,” he said with a soft smile, his eyes moving for a moment to the sparkling choker, and then once more meeting my own, “you look absolutely beautiful. Any man would be proud to have you as a wife. And I am especially proud to have you as the mistress of Hartford Hall.”

  He offered me his arm and then led me outside to the carriage that would be taking us to the ball. But this was not the simple black carriage I had travelled in previously. This instead was like something from a story book: for it sparkled in the sunshine, its fresh white paint gleaming, the carved wood of its frame so ornate, the round windows giving a glimpse of the beautiful, luxurious powder blue interior within.

  “I have had it refurbished especially for you,” James explained. “It has been such a long time since this place has been so alive with youth and laughter and beauty, Amelia. I only hope it is to your taste ...”

  “Oh James,” I replied. “It’s perfect! It is even furnished in the same colours as my bedchamber!”

  “Well,” he said with a loving smile, “I wanted you to feel at home in it.”

  He held open the door to the carriage for me, then helped me into it, before climbing in next to me, then giving the front wall a swift rap, to let the driver know that we were ready to depart.

  I felt my breast flush with happiness as we set off from the grounds of Hartford Hall, and I thought excitedly about the reception we would receive when we arrived – for surely no other carriage could be as grand as our own?

  “James, I’m so happy,” I said, turning to my husband, smiling.

  And he answered me not with words but with a kiss, his hands holding my face as he pushed his lips against my own. Despite myself, I could feel my body so strongly yearning for him – positively aching and melting, as his tongue pushed into my mouth, and it was all I could do to stifle my moans and trembles as his hands mov
ed to my body, caressing me through my dress.

  But although I was enjoying the sensations, I pushed him away, admonishing him with a playful little smile and a shake of the head.

  “No, no,” I said, my voice trembling somewhat, “you must not ruin my dress!’

  But even as I spoke the words, I felt secretly glad that he seemed to want me so urgently – as urgently as I too wanted him; and furthermore, a timid little glance down at his lap confirmed that his body was just as ready as my own, for I could make out his hardness, straining beneath the fine cloth of his trousers!

  It was only as we were pulling into the grounds of Lady Violet’s house that I began to worry, my mind turning from naughty thoughts about James instead to the night that lay ahead of us.

  What was this ball going to be like? I wondered. And would some private intimacy still exist between James and Lady Violet? Do not worry, I told myself, for James is mine now. And when we arrive, they shall all see my beautiful dress and my carriage and the diamond choker sparkling upon my neck.

  Why am I worrying so much about this? Despite our icy demeanour at our first meeting, Lady Violet is fast becoming a friend of mine. I might wish that she hadn’t have shared so many intimacies with me, but I knew I still had a lot to learn about friendship, and perhaps it was I who was acting improperly, with my reserved nature.

  And furthermore, I know that James must be a wonderful man because here I am wearing his priceless family collar, travelling in the very carriage he has had upholstered just so that I can feel ‘at home’. No, I am truly a lucky woman – and I should keep this at the forefront of my mind ...

  Just then the carriage ground to a halt outside the house, and when I stepped out into the cool night air, I gasped at the sight: for the whole house seemed ablaze with so many flickering candles and torches, not to mention festooned with brightly coloured bunches of flowers, everywhere I laid my eyes.