Dark Obsession (4 page)

Annabel opened the car door and the Weimaraners growled low in their throats. She froze, knowing that her fear would be plain to the dogs but unable to contain it. She’d never liked dogs, large or small, and had no idea how to handle the situation.

‘Come here, you stupid animals!’ shouted a voice from the doorway, and to Annabel’s relief a young man emerged from the shadows. He was tall and slim with high cheekbones and a wide, thin-lipped mouth that was open at that moment in a welcoming smile which revealed perfect, gleaming white teeth. His long, fair hair was swept back off his face and a pair of light-blue eyes surveyed her with interest.

‘You needn’t be afraid of them,’ he drawled, ‘they only attack after dark!’ Annabel laughed, hoping it was a joke.

‘Who is it?’ asked a light feminine voice, and then the young man was joined on the steps by an auburn-haired girl with equally stunning bone structure and an incredible figure, accentuated by the tight brown jodhpurs and fitted white silk shirt she was wearing.

‘No idea,’ said the young man.

The girl’s eyes assessed Annabel’s physical attributes for
a
moment. ‘I suppose you’re the decorator Mama’s brought down from London,’ she said at last.

‘I’m the interior designer, yes,’ said Annabel.

‘She will be pleased. At last she’ll have some meaning to her life! I’m her daughter, Tania Corbett-Wynne, and this is my stepbrother Crispian.’

Annabel held out her hand. ‘I’m Annabel Moss; I work for David Crosbie.’

‘Classy name for a classy lady,’ commented Crispian. ‘Let me take your cases for you. Where’s Step-mama put her, Tania?’

‘On the third floor. She has the guest rooms along the corridor from me,’ said Tania, shooting a swift glance at Crispian.

‘In that case I’ll let George take them up. No need to strain my back in the pursuit of politeness!’ His eyes creased at the corners when he smiled, and as he took a case from Annabel’s hand his fingers brushed lightly against hers.

‘Mother’s been waiting hours,’ said Tania as the three of them went through the front door into the lobby that led to the hallway. It was an attractive room in its own right, the walls covered in hunting prints, the oak shelves full of trophies, cups and photographs of various family members winning prizes for riding and other sports. Riding boots and wellingtons littered the floor; a narrow marble-topped table with a vase of lilac and mimosa on it added the only touch of femininity.

‘I know I’m a bit late,’ apologised Annabel. ‘My directions were rather vague. David got the wrong turn-off the main road.’

Tania smiled. ‘I remember David Crosbie. Did he tell you he’d stayed here?’

‘Yes,’ said Annabel. She added calmly, ‘Perhaps I’d better meet your mother now.’

‘I hope you’ve brought some smart clothes with you,’
said
Crispian as he walked away. ‘We’ve got a small dinner party tonight, and you’re making up the numbers.’

Tania laughed at the look of dismay on Annabel’s face. ‘Don’t tell me you were expecting to eat with the servants? Interior designers are very important people in my mother’s world! Come on, I’ll take you over to the West Wing. Mama never ventures out of there unless forced. Probably terrified my stepfather will leap on her and demand his conjugal rights!’

As they made their way through the main part of the Hall Annabel noticed a strange smell that seemed to be made up of a mixture of woodsmoke, saddle-soap and beeswax polish. Once they were in the West Wing this vanished, replaced by the scent of sandalwood potpourri.

Tania tapped on a panelled oak door. ‘It’s your tame designer, Mama.’

‘Please come in,’ called Lady Corbett-Wynne, and Tania pushed on the door. As it swung open she rested a hand lightly on Annabel’s arm. ‘My stepbrother’s very handsome, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, very,’ said a startled Annabel.

‘I thought you’d like him, the women all do. Well, just remember this. Keep your hands off him, he’s mine, all right?’

‘I’ve come here to work,’ said Annabel, keeping her voice low so that Lady Corbett-Wynne couldn’t hear.

‘Oh sure, but you’ll play too, everyone does at Leyton Hall. I’m only warning you not to play with Crispian. You probably wouldn’t enjoy it if you did; he likes to play rough.’

‘Come in,’ Tania’s mother repeated irritably, and her daughter drifted away, glancing back at Annabel with a deceptively sweet smile as she vanished out of sight.

The drawing room of the West Wing was beautiful. The cream walls had green-stencilled leaf designs on the upper sections and the reproduction furniture all toned perfectly. At the windows plain white linen curtains were tied back
with
matching green cords. The slim woman with ash-blonde hair sitting in the winged chair by the window seemed to have been designed to live in just such a room.

‘Welcome to Leyton Hall,’ she said, rising slowly to her feet. ‘I do so hope that we can work well together.’

‘I’m sure we will,’ Annabel said warmly, glancing around the room.

‘I’m sure we will too. David spoke very highly of you.’

Annabel sat on the sofa, and the two of them began to talk.

James Corbett-Wynne had seen Annabel arrive from his bedroom window, and like his son was pleasantly surprised by her youth and the fact that she was very attractive. She reminded him of a well-bred filly, which was the highest compliment he could pay a young woman.

The young woman with him at this moment wasn’t in the least like a well-bred filly, but she was exactly the kind of girl he enjoyed. Sandra had come to work in the stables from Bracken Manor, the home of James’s closest friend, and she’d come highly recommended. ‘Full of enthusiasm, willing to have a go at anything,’ had been Richard’s exact words, and James was about to test the truth of this himself.

Sandra, a short, fair-haired girl with rounded hips and full breasts, stood in front of him in her working outfit of corduroys and check shirt and waited for him to speak.

‘Settling in all right?’ he asked casually, as though it was perfectly normal for an employer to interview his new groom in his bedroom.

‘Very well, thank you, your lordship,’ she said meekly, well aware that meekness was the last thing he was going to want of her before the interview was out.

‘Good, excellent! No trouble with discipline? Miranda can be a bit of a handful.’

‘She exercised very well this morning,’ replied the
groom
, wondering what Lord Corbett-Wynne would look like without his clothes on.

‘You’re a good disciplinarian yourself then, are you?’

Sandra gave a small smile. ‘I like to think so, sir.’

‘Excellent. Take off those clothes, let’s take a look at you. Richard recommended you very highly.’

‘I enjoyed my time with him,’ Sandra said truthfully, her heart starting to beat more rapidly at the memory.

She peeled off her corduroys and edged her white lacy knickers down over her legs with her thumbs. Then she stood in front of Lord Corbett-Wynne clad only in her check shirt. He walked round her slowly, pausing only to run one large hand appreciatively over her rounded buttocks. ‘Promising,’ he murmured. ‘Now the shirt.’

The groom unbuttoned the shirt and slid it off her shoulders. Beneath it she was wearing a half-cup bra that scarcely controlled her large breasts. James swallowed hard and forced himself to stand still in front of her. ‘That too,’ he muttered harshly.

Sandra lowered her lashes, feigning innocence in a way she knew he’d like, and then unfastened the bra before bending forward from the waist and letting it drop to the floor, leaving her breasts hanging downwards, the long nipples showing dark brown against her skin.

‘Perfect,’ whispered her new employer, reaching out and pulling softly on the already erect tips of the nipples. ‘I’ve something here I’d like you to put on.’ Scarcely able to wait, he drew a black leather harness out of his wardrobe. ‘Hurry up!’ he said sharply, and as Sandra started to put it on Lord Corbett-Wynne began to strip off his own clothes.

By the time he was naked, Sandra had managed to adjust the harness to fit her. Two thongs ran from front to back between her thighs while a leather strap encircled her body just below her hip bones. From a metal link in the middle, two more thongs led up to each of her breasts and
then
divided to encircle them before fitting round her neck in a halter.

Her lush curves were accentuated by the tight straps. Her face was flushed with excitement while her nipples stood out proudly, eagerly awaiting whatever was to happen.

‘Delicious!’ muttered James, and as Sandra watched he began to pull on a black leather harness of his own. His body was heavy but firm and the straps over his large shoulders joined up with a band of leather just beneath his nipples. From the round metal circle in the middle, a leather strap continued down the middle of his abdomen until it met up with one that sat on his hips. From this join a strap similar to the one between Sandra’s thighs ran between the cheeks of his bottom and up over his pubic hair. But a tiny pouch allowed his testicles to nestle comfortably there while he slid a chrome link, set in the middle of the strap, over his already hardening penis and settled it at the base of the shaft. It would enable him to maintain his erection for far longer than normal.

Finally he handed the groom a padded leather eye mask, a leather-plaited whip, and what looked to the groom like a short dog leash with a tiny leather collar at one end and a loop at the other. ‘For you,’ he said shortly. ‘Now, let’s see what you can do.’

For a moment Sandra hesitated. She’d grown used to her previous employer’s ways, but had no real means of knowing whether or not this man standing in front of her, his sexual excitement clear, shared the same taste. Deciding that if he didn’t she wouldn’t have been recommended, she sharpened her voice.

‘What would your wife say if she knew I was here?’ she asked harshly.

James’s penis stirred visibly. ‘She’d be very annoyed,’ he said softly.

‘Because you were being naughty, isn’t that right?’

‘Yes, yes!’ he said in a thick voice. ‘I’m always being
naughty
. That’s why she won’t have anything to do with me any more.’ He started towards Sandra, his hands reaching for her temptingly heavy breasts, but she flicked her whip lightly across his exposed abdomen and he stopped with a swift intake of breath.

‘Don’t move until I say you can,’ she said firmly. Then she took the padded eye mask, climbed onto the end of the vast bed and signalled for Lord Corbett-Wynne to move towards her. He immediately obeyed, turning his back so that she could slip the covering over his eyes. Once he was in darkness his excitement increased and a tiny drop of clear fluid appeared at the tip of his straining penis.

Sandra knew then that this man was no different from Richard in his needs and desires and gave a small sigh of satisfaction. She would be happy in her employment, and secure too. Men like this hated change in women, the journey from passivity to authority.

‘Use the leash,’ muttered the naked man in front of her.

‘Be quiet,’ she said shortly, privately wondering what on earth she was meant to do with it, and then as he thrust his hips forward slightly, she realised. Stepping down from the bed she strapped the collar-like end round his erection just beneath the swollen glans and then grasping the other end in her hand, tugged lightly on it, leading him round the room as she would a horse.

He was breathing heavily now, and after a moment Sandra raised the leather-plaited whip and brought it down in a swift stinging blow across his shoulders. He groaned with excitement and reached blindly for her, his heavy arms making contact so that he was able to pull her towards him. Then his face was nuzzling desperately at her exposed breasts and she felt his tongue sweeping upwards until it located a nipple. Once it was found he drew it into his mouth and sucked, gently at first but with increasing pressure, and Sandra grew damp against the thongs between her thighs.

His teeth grazed the nipple in his excitement and she knew that he must be stopped – that was what he would expect, even though she really wanted him to continue. ‘How dare you?’ she demanded, flicking the whip at him and pushing him off with all her strength.

‘Let me! Let me!’ he choked, lunging forward again, but she stepped backwards and tugged on the strap attached to his penis, pulling it down from where it was resting against his lower belly.

‘Aah!’ sighed the Lord of Leyton Hall in blissful satisfaction.

Sandra’s own body was beginning to throb with sexual desire. She loved this as much as the men did and just wished that her satisfaction counted for more, although at the end it was always worth the wait. Still leading her prisoner by the leash she moved towards the bed and lay on her back. ‘You may use your mouth on me,’ she said crisply, ‘but only your mouth. If you use anything else you’ll be punished again. Is that clear?’

‘Quite clear,’ agreed James, delighted at the girl’s understanding of the complexities of the game, and then he was using his tongue on her outspread legs, working slowly up the inner calves and around the backs of her knees. Finally he managed to crouch awkwardly on the bed so that he was able to lick and suck at the tender creases of her inner thighs.

Sandra’s body started to tremble. He was better than Richard had been, more subtle, and she felt herself swelling with excitement, but then one of his hands tried to push at the straps covering her sex and she hastily brought the whip down over his back. ‘No hands!’ she reminded him.

‘But I can’t reach you!’ protested her employer.

‘Later,’ she assured him, and reluctantly he moved on up her body until eventually every available inch of flesh was damp from his skilful ministrations. When his tongue
swirled
inside her ear she could hardly stand the waiting any longer herself.

‘Hands as well,’ she conceded and at once his large hands were moving blindly over her, cupping her heavy breasts and at the same time he moved further up the bed until he was able to angle his painfully hard penis between them and then he started to massage her breasts against his erection, almost sobbing with excitement.