LORD DECADENT'S OBSESSION (18 page)

my age, and married me off to him. I was only eighteen years old, Serenity, married to a

man of almost sixty years. It was horrible."

"I am sad for you, dear, but what does this have to do with Prentice?"

"Prentice Hyde was the man who took my virtue. It was he who flirted and

cajoled, daring me to go off with him for a few stolen kisses. He made me feel beautiful.

He said all the things a young girl wishes to hear. Before I knew what was happening, I

was so caught up in his attentions, I would have allowed him any liberty."

"Oh my." Desiree watched as Serenity's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"Yes, oh my, indeed. Then, to make matters worse, the next time he saw me, he didn't

even know who I was. He ruined me, Serenity, and he didn't even remember me."

Her tears flowed in earnest now, her humiliation complete. She'd never told the

story to anyone else. She realized as she told it, she wasn't angry. Instead, she had a

profound feeling of sadness.

The women were quiet for several more minutes before Desiree asked if she

could have some time alone. "I need to compose myself."

"I will come for you in, say, an hour?"

"Please."

The door closed, and at last, Desiree was alone.

* * * * *

Prentice was in shock. He'd witnessed Desiree's spanking, gaining a cockstand

that ached as never before.

Then he'd heard the conversation between the two women, condemning him as

the worst kind of rogue. He'd deflowered so many young women, all willing

participants in his flirtations, but he'd had no earthly idea that Desiree was one.

No wonder she feels as she does.
He'd positioned himself in the viewing area

adjacent to the room Desiree now occupied. He could see her, doubled over, crying for

all she was worth. She began wailing, making him wish he could go to her but knowing

it would be the last thing she would want.

He watched her as she went through the torments of Hades, alternating between

screaming and quietly sobbing. She was in pain, and he couldn't be the one to help her,

for he was the one who'd caused her misery.

He watched, dumbstruck, for what seemed like hours, as she cried her heart out.

Just as he determined he needed to go in and comfort her, she whimpered, then raised

her head, dried her eyes and cried no more. He could almost feel her resolve returning;

her admirable courage once again fully installed. She stood and walked around the

room until she came to the Biedermeier chaise. She brushed her fingers over the red

upholstery and longingly squeezed the rolled arm. He knew she was remembering how

she'd draped herself over the arm of its twin, and he'd spanked her that way, after

which they'd made love for hours. He remembered, and he ached to make this up to

her.

She sat down in the center of the chaise with her dress up around her waist. His

eyes were riveted on the sight that was unfolding before him. With her knees bent, legs

spread wide, and her feet planted firmly, Desiree touched her womanly folds, circling

her clitoris as he'd done so many times. From her reticule, she took a long, shiny black

object and promptly inserted it into her vagina. Her moans became more intense as both

hands worked to satisfy a need he was desperate to fill for her.

She'd rested her head against the back of the chaise, her mouth open, eyes closed.

After some short pants, she came with abandon, shouting her release. Then, she was

still, frozen in place by what looked to him like grief. She began to cry once more as

though she possessed all the tears in the universe.

"I love you!" she shouted, her voice laced with bitterness. "Why?"

Chapter Eighteen

By the time Serenity returned to fetch her, Desiree had composed herself. Her

eyes were gritty, she was exhausted, but she felt better. She shared a meal with Serenity,

then changed into a costume for the evening's entertainment.

The tableau was a monthly event at the club, held in the vast ballroom. Members

were invited to create their own sexual scenarios, played out in a public setting.

"Now, you may participate if you chose—there are many eligible young men

who would be more than willing to guide you—or you may simply watch."

By the time they entered what was known to members as "The Gates of Heaven

and Hell," people in various costumes were milling about, carving out spots for

themselves. The room was impressive not only for its size but for the sheer decadence

of the décor. In the middle of the room stood a massive fountain, consisting of a tall,

slim column upon which sat a large bowl. The column rose from a stone pool. Water

was pumped over the sides of bowl and flowed into the pool, over the sumptuous

bodies of three naked women, their arms raised over their heads as though holding the

column in place.

Around the perimeter of the room, Corinthian columns draped with colorful

silks partitioned the space into cozy rooms, each furnished with a bench, pillows, and

whatever else the members requested.

The long walls were indented with deep niches, and had spectacular plasterwork

around the ceiling and under the impressive white stone railing of the gallery that hung

high over the room. Inside each niche was a naked man or woman, all of them posed in

a sexually explicit manner.

More and more people flooded into the room, each dressed in costume, complete

with masks. Serenity had loaned Desiree a half-mask of gold, with feathers sprouting

from the top edge of it. Her costume was little more than yards of silk wrapped around

her body.

The room was dimly lit with sconces and candelabras. Hampton, the club's

butler, walked to the center of the room and rang a bell. All talking and movement

stopped. "Ladies and Gentlemen, let the games begin."

The room erupted with excitement, which drew Desiree's attention, though it

was scattered. She and Serenity walked slowly, greeting members. Desiree's gaze was

drawn to a room where a man was strapped to a bench, and a woman was spanking

him soundly with a tawse. The man was screaming, " Harder, demme it," as the poor

woman was trying to please him.

"That's Lord and Lady Argyll. He does like a good thrashing, and she resents

having to do it before her own." They giggled and moved on.

"Mrs. Damrill," a woman called in a trill voice that caused Serenity to sigh. "How

are you this evening, dear?"

"I am fine, Lady Foxworth, and yourself?"

"Getting my arse beaten nicely, though not as well as Luce."

"I'll leave you to it, my lady."

They heard a screech from the lady as they walked away.

"Serenity, does Prentice participate in these tableaus?"

"He has, yes."

Desiree didn't ask anything else about Prentice. Her heart ached at the mere

thought of him involved with any of the members.

Serenity was called away, leaving Desiree to continue her tour alone. As she

strolled through the room, she saw several spankings and a ménage with some very

attractive women and an older gentleman. She couldn't help but stare as the women

explored the gentleman's body. He lay back and allowed them to suck and probe at

their leisure.

"Come join us, beauty."

Desiree looked as the older gentlemen waved his hand.

"No, thank you, my lord, you look well taken care of as it stands."

The man bellowed with laugher and then quickly sobered as one of the lovelies

sank herself onto his cock. "Oh, yes, darling."

A footman approached and handed her a missive.

Desiree scanned the large, flowing script.
Meet me in the room on the second floor.

Assuming the note was from Serenity, Desiree made for the staircase. The sexual

activity surrounding her was intense, making it difficult to concentrate. The memories

of her time with Prentice were emphasized by everything she was seeing.

Desiree left the room, happy to have been called away from all she couldn't have.

As she walked down the hallway, almost to the staircase, she felt a gloved hand clamp

tightly over her mouth, while at the same time something silky was slipped over her

eyes. Her heart began to race, as she attempted to shrug out of the attackers grasp. In

her head she was screaming, "Let me go!" and "Someone help me," but it was all

muffled behind the leather, which smelled old and of sweat. As she tried to strike the

person with her hands, they were secured behind her back. She kicked her feet,

screaming behind the hand and struggling mightily, but she could make no headway.

She was being dragged, and soon heard a door open and felt the chill evening air.

Desiree screamed, "Please, let me go!" or she thought she did. The hand was still firmly

against her mouth. She tasted the leather as she again tried to plead for her release. The

sound of feet scraping against a hard surface, she assumed stone, filled the otherwise

quiet night. Their ascension down the stairs was rapid, a she felt two people, one

holding each arm, lifting her, feet barely touching the steps. Before she knew it, she was

lifted into a carriage and onto a hard seat. It took a moment for her to realize that her

mouth was uncovered. "Help!" she shouted, but was distracted when she felt the coach

tilt as someone jumped in behind her. She was nearly thrown off balance, her pleas lost

in her attempt to right herself. She heard a loud knocking sound and the carriage

immediately jolted forward, causing her to lurch. As the horses were given their heads,

their speed threw her back against the seat.

She sat rather uncomfortably, tension and fear built inside her. The smell of stale

tobacco teased her nose, as did that of sweat. Her heart continued to race, her mind

reeling with all the implications of her abduction. "What do you want of me?"

"Just sit back, missy andno harm will come to you."

The voice was gruff and not one she recognized. Her imagination began to run

wild. Was it someone who saw her during the tableau? She had not a soul in the world

to worry about her, to search for her.

"Please tell me what this is all about." Desiree didn't try to disguise her distress.

"In due time, missy." She felt the carriage shift and the man plunk down beside

her. He turned her body and began to do something behind her back. Immediately, she

began to kick and wiggle.

"Now stop that, ya little wildcat. I'm just untyin' your hands. You want to be

more comfortable, don't ya?"

Seeing the merit in what he said, she rubbed her arms and wrists. She touched

the blindfold, hooking her thumbs into the underside, but the man saw what she was

trying to do.

"No, ma'am. Try it again and I'll tie your hands behind ya."

She acquiesced, feeling helpless. She took to heart what he said about not being

hurt, reasoning that he could have hurt her already if he'd wanted to. With her hands

free, she might have a better opportunity to escape, but if she caused trouble, she'd lose

that precious bit of freedom. She made a calculated decision to behave, at least for now.

"Here, take a drink, as we won't be stopping. You have a long ride ahead. There's

a pillow and blanket. Get some rest."

A cup was put into her hand. She drank without thinking about what she had

been offered. Rest was definitely something she wouldn't be doing. Possibly, if she

lulled her captor into believing she was sleeping, he might let his guard down.

Desiree felt for the bedding, and lay down. The seat was hard but padded. Her

eyes became heavy and sleep was tempting. The continuous movement, the

monotonous clopping of the horse's hooves, eventually lulled her into slumber.

* * * * *

Prentice was at the reins, rather pleased with himself. Everything had come

together brilliantly. Now, all he had to deal with was her anger, and he had no doubt it

would come in vast proportion. They were several hours out of London when he pulled

into a coaching inn to change the horses. He went to the door just as his driver jumped

out.

"She's out, my lord."

"You sure?"

"Oh, yeah, she snores."

Prentice laughed. With luck, she'd sleep for the rest of the journey to Cambridge.

He changed places with his driver so he could rest as well. They would arrive mid-morning and he would have his work cut out for him when she discovered it was he

who had kidnapped her.

This was a last resort, to be sure. If he'd thought he could reason with her,

apologize for his roguish behavior, and convince her of the strength of his present day

feelings, he would have done so. Instead, he needed to get her alone, away from her

everyday life, back to where she'd been truly happy.

He decided rest was imperative, given the fight he'd have on his hands later on.

He stretched out, his long legs filling the small space in the coach. He began to feel

drowsy as the miles behind him disappeared in the dust, and his future loomed in the

mist ahead. Never had he been so unsure of anything in his life.

* * * * *

What was that smell? Her head felt like it was filled with sawdust, and her

mouth was as dry.

She slowly opened her eyes, looking straight up at a domed, rough-hewed

ceiling. Moving her eyes side to side, reality began to seep into her sleep-sodden brain.