Trust Me (31 page)

“You really want
this?” he asked.

She nodded.

“You should rest.”

“
Rest
? Why,
why, why do you keep saying that word? I feel fine.” She nuzzled her face
against his thigh. “I want… make me feel something spectacular.”

She glanced up and he
caught the anxiety in her eyes. She wanted comforting. Carnal activity was the
only way she really knew to find comfort from her feelings. He understood this
about her.

But was it wise?

She was stroking his
leg. His cock throbbed urgently against his fall, as though desperately trying
to draw his attention away from his thoughts. As though it were also pleading
her case for sweet distraction.

“You want to seduce
me?” He put his fingers under her chin and tipped her head back.

“Isn’t this the
proper way?”

“Spread your legs,
love. Show me your need.”

She slowly moved to
comply and revealed her swollen, glistening wet flesh.

“I have always adored
how wet you become. Back at Whitecross Hall, when we had our start, you used to
soak your bedclothes and I could smell it. I have often flattered myself that
it wouldn’t be that way with anyone else, only for me.”

He backed away, and
removed his boots, his clothing. She watched him with huge, passion-darkened
eyes.

He lay on her bed.

“I am yours, my lady,
to do with as you will.” He touched himself. Holding his cock up and stroking it.
“Come and take what you want.”

Her lips parted and
her sapphire eyes darkened.

He reached out his
other hand. “Come.”

On her knees, she
crawled to him. But she looked uncertain.

“Mount me,” he said.
“You’ve done this before.”

His cock bobbed and
jerked. It drew her eye.

“I am all yours,
wench.”

She took hold of his
thick length. It pulsed within her hand. She laughed again, then stroked her
hand up and down his shaft.

He caught his breath.

She repeated the
stroke.

He lifted his hips
and she stroked him faster. He groaned.

She moved to mount
him. Grasped his shaft and poised it at her entrance.

He grasped her hips.

“In the eastern
harems, the Turkish gentleman order their ladies to mount them just like this.”
He thrust upwards, sliding through her tight, wet rings.

She gasped. Her cunt
squeezed him.

Pleasure shafted
through his rod to the base of his spine. He pressed her pelvis downwards
whilst rocking his hips, applying pressure to the mouth of her womb.

She moaned and arched
her hips, helping him to create the sensations they loved most.

“They demand that
their harem ladies satisfy them completely.”

“What if they fail?”
Her voice was as soft as a cloud passing on a hot August afternoon.

“Then they punish
them.”

Her inner walls
clenched him, hard. He drew his breath in sharply. She arched herself against
his pelvis more urgently. He traced a fingertip from her navel down to the
black hair on her mons and then gently teased the hood that covered her nub.

“How do they punish
them?”

“They have servants
tie them down and then they have the soles of their feet beaten with a cane.”

“Will you punish me?”

“I might.” He
scissored his fingers around his cock, sliding on the wetness at the place of
their joining. “If you don’t please me well.”

“Oh goodness,” she
murmured breathily. Her body trembled and her large breasts, with their
pebbled, rose-brown nipples, shook.

He ran his hands up
her stomach, under her teats, cupping them, feeling their heaviness, holding them
up. “Fuck me, Nan. Show me how you would please your gentleman.”

She moved her hips
with perfect timing and grace. She had been, after all, an excellent horsewoman
since her youth. It was a grand shame that that had been taken away from her.
He needed to get her to Scotland and get her accustomed to riding again. How
odd to have such thoughts when she was giving him such tremendous pleasure.

And she was.

His cock seemed to
swell and lengthen. Throbbing within her.

Her cunt began to
draw.

“Anne.”

“Yes.” The word was
like a breathy prayer.

“Don’t come yet.”

A smile spread over
her lips. “Why not?”

“Because I shall
punish you.”

Her walls seemed to
quake over him. “Oh… oh… it’s not fair.”

“Duty first to your
lord, and then to your own pleasure.” He grasped her hips then pressed upward
and rocked his hips. “Don’t stop.”

She licked her lips
and moaned. “Don’t come, don’t move… It’s just not fair.”

There were things she
could have done to hasten his completion. He might have told her. But he was
enjoying the sensation, the show. So he didn’t.

“Move slower,” he
suggested.

She moved her pelvis,
sliding her wet, hot sheath up and down on his cock. A lazy motion. The
bouncing of her breasts transfixed him.

Gradually, she
increased her speed. Her cunt began to draw again, squeezing him, hugging him.
He groaned. It would be hard to last through her orgasm.

He lent up and
captured her nipple in his mouth and licked, sucked, nipped.

“Oh, oh, oh…
unfair
…” She moaned, a sort of wail of
surrender. Her walls began to clench in a spasmodic fashion. Rippling over his
cock. Her body shook with the waves. Her face became a mask of ecstasy.

She was absolutely,
breathtakingly beautiful. It took all of his self-control not to join her in
such unrestrained release.

She fell against him.
Her panting breaths blew against his chest. When those breaths finally slowed,
he smoothed back her hair and kissed her cheek. “Now I have to punish you.”

A pulse of arousal
ticked through her sex. He could feel it in the way her cunt clasped him, in her
sudden catch of breath. He lifted her off of him.

She crawled to the
other side of the bed and curled into a ball.

“It’s no good to try
and hide, Nan.” He stood and reached out a hand to her. ”Now come.”

Anne followed Jon
into his bedchamber. “Shall you beat the soles of my feet?” she asked as he
closed the door.

He laughed. “No, I
shan’t.”

“Oh. Well, why not?”

“Because…” He ran his
large hand over her buttocks. “I shan’t ever strike you anywhere but your
gorgeous arse.”

“Shan’t you?”

He pressed his mouth
into the crook of her neck. “Why should I, when your arse is so delightful to
strike?”

He gave her buttock a
harsh slap.

She squealed.

He put her from him
and went to his desk and retrieved the velvet sack that contained those
terrible silver balls.

“Oh no!” She couldn’t
stop herself from saying. He laughed, a sensual, wicked sound. “Lie upon the
bed and spread yourself for me.”

With a moan of
defeat, she obeyed.

“Wider, Nan.”

She lifted her legs,
spread them wide and then drew her knees up to her stomach.

“That’s my good girl…
or should I say, in this case, my
naughty
girl.” He stroked his hand up the inside of her thigh. His eyes sparkled with
enjoyment, the anticipation of her carnal suffering. He removed the silver
balls from their velvet sack and took a moment rolling them in his hands.
“We’re going to play a game of the beleaguered house maid and the lazy lord.”

Despite the
apprehension roiling inside her, she laughed. “Oh goodness, I shudder to think
of what that might entail.”

He placed one of
those devilish balls at her entrance. She tensed and couldn’t help backing
away. He inserted the orb. It felt so smooth and innocent sliding up her
channel. He then inserted the other.

She lay very still.

If she didn’t move,
the sensual torture wouldn’t begin just yet.

He went to his
wardrobe and began tossing items of clothing to the floor. What was he doing?
Had he suddenly gone mad?

When the chamber was
strewn with garments, he came back to her, took her arm and pulled her up.

“Arise, wench, and
clean this chamber.”

“What?”

“Do you think proper
chambermaids ask questions? Or do they set about their work?” He went to his
night table and picked up the crop. “

He came to her and
rolled her halfway on her side. He struck her with the crop.

She squealed at the
slight sting.

He gave her another.
“I suggest you start your chores now.”

She leapt from the
bed. The balls rocked inside her. A wave of desire flared in her loins.

He stripped the
coverlet and sheets off the bed with one swift motion and tossed them to the
floor as well.

By the time she’d
picked up every last garment and remade the bed, her wetness flowed down
between her legs.

He lifted her and
deposited her on the bed. ”You took entirely too long to tidy the chamber.”

She guessed his intent
and barely had time to suck in her breath.

The crop came down on
her buttock. Lightly. A pleasant sting warmed her bottom and spread to her
cunt. Again and again he repeated the action.

“I am going to mark you,
so that anyone may know you as a lazy housemaid.”

Her heart began to
beat very fast. She played her role. ”Oh no, my lord, no—please don’t!”

The crop came down
and a sharp, burning pain followed. He struck her three times in quick
succession and then he let the crop fall from his hand to the floor .

He grasped her hair
and his breath blew over her ear. “I am a lazy, selfish lord. I shan’t concern
myself with your pleasure. In my eyes, you exist solely for my use.“

God, his words sent
her desire flaring.

He thrust back and
forth several times with a harsh grunt. “You’re a beleaguered housemaid. You’ve
been through this with me before. You know if you’re to come, you’ll have to do
it very fast.”

He fucked her with a
near savage rhythm.

Her orgasm came so swiftly
and took her so hard, her whole body convulsed. Consumed by pleasure so intense
it felt almost like pain, she screamed again and again.

****

Anne sat in their box
at the theatre, using her quizzing glass to study all those present. The
persons in the put were most interesting. It was intermission and Jon had gone
to speak with an acquaintance about some matter concerning
  
the upcoming opening of the House of Lords.

The entrance to the
box opened. Anne turned, her lips spreading into a smile, for she expected
Jon’s return.

Lady Maria Waterbury
swept into the box in a gale of lemon floral spice perfume and elegant skirts.
Her chestnut hair glistened with red highlights and her dark green gown
shimmered with sparkling beads and lavish lace. As she entered the box, she
stared at Anne with large, pale-grey eyes.

“Oh, naughty Ruel, to
leave you all alone.” The deep, sultry voice was followed by a girlish titter.

A woman followed
Maria. A woman with dark hair and impossibly alabaster skin dressed in a less
spectacular pale blue gown and a largish aquamarine pendant that was surely
paste sparkling at her neck. Lady Scott, otherwise known as Cherry. Her
beautiful features sharpened with pure dislike and she tittered nastily.

Anne’s stomach turned
over. Her heart began to pound.

Oh, not these two
ladies. Not right now.

Her wits froze and
her legs went limp.

If you cannot overcome your shyness, then be haughty.

Jon’s advice came
back to her.

She lifted her chin
and drew a slight, somewhat superior smile. The kind she’d seen on her father’s
face.

Cherry glared at her.
It was terribly intimidating. This shameless woman had been William’s long-time
mistress. But she had also been Jon’s lover. She knew something about the
carnal games Jon enjoyed. Surely she did. However, Anne wasn’t sure how much.
It was disconcerting to say the least.

This woman had spread
vile rumours about Anne. She had done so to hurt her. Anger energized Anne,
giving her the will to stare down the other woman instead of running as she
would have rather done.

“Lady Ruel, this is
Mr Graves, Lord Rafferty’s youngest son.” Maria nodded to Cherry’s side.

Anne flicked a glance
at the young, slender blond man who stood in the doorway to the box. A scene
flashed in her mind of this very man entwined in the arms of two naked
courtesans.