A Scandalous Arrangement (17 page)

He withdrew and thrust again, harder this time. Her body responded, the now familiar knot of arousal and pleasure starting deep in her lower abdomen and working outward.

“Oh, sir, that feels most strange.”

“Indeed? Is it good though?”

“Yes, sir, I believe it is.”

“Do you still want to get it over with?”

“No, I expect it will be fine if you want to take a little time over the matter, after all.”

“I’m so pleased, little one, since I intend to do precisely that.”

He proceeded to fuck her slowly, but very thoroughly. Victoria writhed, stretched, flexed, and arched as sensation sizzled through her. She had known there was pleasure to be had in this, perhaps, eventually, and Adam had already treated her to a taste of that as he prepared her. But she had not imagined that in taking her virginity he might produce such a surge of exultation in her, nor that she would squeeze and cling to him, seeking more friction, more sensation. She wanted harder, faster, tighter, hotter, and Adam delivered it all.

She struggled to be free to move, and he obliged by releasing her hands. Victoria clung to his shoulders as he pumped his cock into her slick channel. There were sounds; she supposed she must be making them. Moaning, begging, pleading, for what she was unsure but she just knew she needed something. Adam took his weight on his elbows and knees, which was yet another revelation for Victoria. She had imagined she would be trapped beneath him, unable to breathe or move but it was not so. Adam picked up a powerful, demanding rhythm, but in every other way he was infinitely gentle with her. He caressed her hair, murmured sweet encouragement into her ear, trailed kisses across her neck and shoulders before sealing his mouth over hers. He plunged his tongue between her lips, mimicking the action of his cock in her pussy.

It was too much. And not nearly enough. Victoria unhooked her ankles from behind his back and planted her feet on the mattress. She flexed, arched her spine, and returned his thrusts. Her body convulsed, the waves of pure pleasure pulsing from somewhere deep inside her. She wondered if he was bigger, harder, wider than when he first entered her. She felt stretched to the limit, could take no more, yet she craved something even deeper.

He slid his tongue from her mouth then buried his face in her hair. Victoria clung to him, her desperation mounting.

“Sir, please…”

“Am I hurting you, sweetheart?”

“No. Not that. Not at all. I just… could you…? I’m so close, but I can’t…” She squeezed her inner muscles hard, trying to create or capture an intangible something she could not quite name or describe, but knew she desired.

“Okay, I know. Trust me?”

“Yes. Always.”

“For now will do.” He kissed her forehead, then slid his hands down to her hips. He lifted her, at the same time shifting to a kneeling position, his cock still embedded deep within her. He turned them so Victoria now lay across the bed, her bottom close to the edge. Adam arranged his knees under her buttocks, her legs spread wide around his hips and her feet dangling over the edge of the bed. She could not quite reach the floor, but had no need to. Victoria stared up at his face but he was not looking at her. Instead his gaze was fixed on the spot where their bodies joined. He slid his cock from her, then eased back in, as deep as he could. At this new angle she felt each delicious stroke against some inner spot that she was just discovering seemed to be more sensitive than anywhere else. She gasped, pleasure coiling and unfurling somewhere within her. It was warm, intense, yet infinitely sweet.

Adam raised his eyes to meet hers, and he smiled at her. He slid his hands up her body to cup her breasts, massaging them in a firm yet gentle caress, then he took both nipples between his fingers and rolled them. She tensed, anticipating that he would squeeze and hurt her, though she was stunned to realise that was a pain she now craved. He didn’t. Instead he drew his hands back down her torso, across the slight roundness of her stomach, pausing to circle her navel with his fingers before continuing on.

She closed her eyes as he reached her clit, sighing in pure ecstasy as he used his thumbs to ease back the hood and expose the quivering bud beneath. She held her breath as he feathered the lightest of touches across the tip. She tensed, her entire body, every nerve ending centred on the bundle of sensation he now held in his hands.

He firmed his touch, applying the slightest pressure, then a whisper more as she flung her hands behind her head and attempted to lift her body to offer it to him. Her feet dangled uselessly behind him, unable to gain any purchase on either the bed or the floor. She was immobile, as much so as if he had tied her, and utterly his to command.

Adam stroked and teased, tracing the edges of her clit with his fingers, then flicking the tip. He rubbed, he grazed, he pressed, and he squeezed, and Victoria believed she might just die of lust.

“Please, sir, please, please…” Her body started to contract, her pussy convulsing around him. She caught a grimace of something, not pain exactly, flashing across his handsome features and was aware he must be feeling her response too. He was inside her, her pussy gripping him as she writhed and squirmed in her ecstasy.

Then, suddenly, she was flying. Her senses shattered, she closed her eyes on a flash of white light and gave herself up to pure sensation. Her body tingled, her muscles stiffened. She grasped fistfuls of eiderdown and hung on as wave after wave of pleasure swept away all rational thought.

As her senses returned she opened her eyes to see Adam still above her. His expression was warm, a half smile across his lips.

“Better now?”

Victoria could only nod, unsure of the correct response. What was one supposed to say to a man in this circumstance?
Thank you, sir, for making me almost faint with joy? For almost killing me with pleasure? For being gentle and kind, and making this thing I feared into the most beautiful experience of my life?
She said none of that, but suspected he might see it in her expression. Surely her gratitude and delight were writ across her face plainly enough.

Adam shifted his knees from beneath her. He was on top again now, his elbows on either side of her shoulders. He framed her face in his hands, smoothing the hair back from her forehead.

“Do you still want that baby? I could withdraw, if you prefer.”

“No. No, no, no. I want it, all of it.”

“Then it is yours, little one.” He pulled back, waited for a moment to catch and hold her gaze, then drove his cock deep again. He held still, she shivered as he lurched inside her, then the hot wash of his semen filled her. Victoria wrapped her legs around him again, and hung on.

* * *

She woke, startled. Where was she?

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, which billowed a little in the light breeze. The window was open, and there was the sound of traffic outside. It was loud, raucous, and unfamiliar. The calls of traders, the rattle of hooves and wheels on stone cobbles. Victoria shoved herself up onto her elbows, and winced.

She was sore, and in a place not normally so sensitive. Indeed, this sensation was unprecedented. She groaned as the events leading to this moment crystallised in her head. Yesterday, was it? Or maybe earlier today. She had lost track of time since she’d entered this suite at The Ritz with Adam Luke. Since she’d knelt before him and allowed him to explore her body leaving no part of her private. He’d tied her to the bedpost, tortured her nipples, then eventually he’d laid her on the mattress and fucked the living daylights out of her.

It had been wicked, sinful, and utterly divine. All of it. There was nothing she would not do again. And more.

There would be more, she knew it. Much, much more with this terrifying, wonderful man.

She rolled onto her back, and became aware of the cool damp spot beside her hip. His semen. He had ejaculated into her, because she’d demanded that of him. Now the life-giving liquid had seeped out to dampen her mattress, but it had been there. Even now she might be conceiving. Could that be possible? How long would it take?

“Are you hungry?” The low tone came from across the room. Victoria eased herself up on one elbow to look.

Adam was fully dressed, and she realised she was naked still under the counterpane. He sat at a low table, dishes of food arranged across the surface of it. He lifted one lid to reveal a whole roast chicken, and another that covered a tureen of vegetables. The aromas were tantalising and Victoria’s stomach growled. She was ravenous.

She sat up, clutching the bedclothes to her chest. “Yes, famished. Are my clothes in here?” She had a dim recollection of removing them out in the sitting room and leaving them folded neatly on a chair.

“No, but you don’t require them. You can eat in bed if you like, but I must insist you drop the chaste virgin act. Let go of that blanket and sit up straight.”

Victoria eyed him with a degree of resentment, then her stomach made its needs known again and she relented. She dropped the blanket and wriggled backwards to rest against the headboard.

Adam nodded his approval. “Better. But you need some pillows, I think.” He came over to her and grabbed a couple of pillows from the other side of the bed to thrust them behind her shoulders. “Comfortable?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He kissed her mouth, then cupped her breast. He lifted the soft curvy mound toward his mouth, then bent to take her nipple between his lips. He sucked, twirling his tongue around the hardening bud. She gasped, but he released her straight away.

“Food first, more fucking later. Do not cover these again, Miss Wynne. Your body is exquisite and I want to admire you.”

“Yes, sir.” Her initial resentment had melted. It seemed he only needed to look at her, touch her, speak to her, and she was his.

“We have chicken roasted in lemon and herbs, and an apple tart for later. Does that sound all right to you?”

“Perfect, sir. I, I could come and eat over there. With you.” Before today she could never have envisioned herself sitting across from a man to eat a meal completely nude, whilst he was fully dressed. This was a weekend for new experiences. Victoria would be amenable to just about anything he asked of her as long as he continued to bestow that warm, approving smile on her.

“Please do that then.” Adam returned to the low table and resumed his seat. He gestured to the empty chair opposite, then proceeded to pick up the long, sharp kitchen knife supplied by the hotel, and carved several slices of the succulent meat. Before she could give herself time to think and become shy again, Victoria scooted from the confines of her blankets and crossed the room to join him. She knew a moment of unease when she spotted the dark stain on the coverlet, evidence of her virginity, now a thing of the past.

“Are you sore, Victoria?”

She glanced at him. Adam was also looking at the stain. “I tried to be gentle, but I hurt you, I know that.”

“You didn’t, not really. At least, it did hurt but it was quick. Then, it felt, well…” She paused, uncertain how to describe the confused tangle of emotions coursing through her. She settled for something simple, but true. “It was good. Better than good.” Then, as an afterthought, “I hope I am pregnant.”

He served her a helping of meat and placed her plate in front of her. “Help yourself to vegetables. So am I, since that is what you desire. But as soon as you suspect, you must tell me. I would have no wish to harm you, or your baby.”

Your
baby. She had made it clear when she set out her demands that she expected no aid or support from him, and he had clearly taken her at her word. It was for the best probably, but still, his choice of word stung her. She gave herself a mental shake and dismissed her foolish musings. She would not dwell on that. Instead, she reached for the serving spoon.

“I doubt you would do that, sir. Harm us, I mean.” She selected several tiny carrots and a helping of rosemary potatoes.

“If you were to become pregnant, there are certain things I would not choose to do with you. To you.”

“Spank me again? Is that what you mean?”

“That, perhaps, though a spanking is not especially severe, or does not have to be. But a caning, now that’s different entirely, especially if it is a punishment. I intend to be very careful with you, Victoria.”

“I… I see.”
Caning? Oh, Lord…

“You’ve gone pale, little one.”

“I have never been caned, sir. Not even as a child. At school. I do not allow it at Wynne’s school either.”

“I should hope not. Caning a child is cruel. A grownup caning though, for a woman with a lovely, enticing bottom such as yours—now that is entirely a different matter. I will demonstrate, later.”

“I wish that you would not, sir.”

“Victoria, have yet I done anything to you that you genuinely hated and would wish me never to repeat?”

She shook her head, emphatic. “No, nothing, sir.”

“Then perhaps you should trust me on this, just a little. It’s true that a cane is an instrument of pain, and can be extreme. But it all depends on how it is wielded, and who by. I can and will make you dance and squeal a bit, but afterwards, I suspect you’ll look back on the experience with a degree of fondness. I intend to do all I am able to ensure that you do.”

“Oh.” She could think of no other response, so left it at that.

Adam smiled as he served himself several slices of chicken breast. “So, remind me, when does your train leave tomorrow?”

“One o’clock, sir. I will be back in Hebden Bridge just after midnight, I hope.” She picked up her fork and lifted a succulent piece of chicken to her mouth.

“You are intending to be at the mill as usual on Monday morning, I assume?”

“Of course. I am always at my desk by eight, usually earlier than that. People would worry if I were late.” She speared a carrot and a piece of potato.

He shrugged. “No one seemed unduly put out the last time.”

She chewed on the vegetables before replying. “That was because you were there. And you told them I was ill.”

“Indeed. Perhaps I should send a message to excuse you on Monday morning then.”