2Rakehell (9 page)

Instead he rose once more and sauntered to his wardrobe
where he drew open one of the drawers, unlocked a secret compartment and then
retrieved a delicate gold chain with what appeared to be a collar on one end
and some sort of bauble on the other.

As he neared her, she saw that the collar had been encrusted
with diamonds and sapphires. It was beautiful and she shivered with pleasure as
he stepped behind her and encircled her neck with it. “From now on you will
wear this during your…training.”

She melted a little at the feel of his warm fingers brushing
against the skin at her nape.

“Yes Master. Thank you.” But as thrilled as she was with
this elaborate show of ownership, she wondered about the chain that hung
heavily against her back—and the weighty crystal ornament attached to the other
end. The trinket seemed an odd little thing in contrast to the elegant collar.

“Kneel on the chair facing the back.”

With the crystal swinging against the backs of her thighs,
she climbed onto the rich leather chair as he instructed.

“Chin on the headrest.”

Bending and leaning forward, she lowered her chin to the
back of the chair. The bauble swayed between her legs and realization struck.
He meant to insert that thing in her!

Her stop word hovered on her lips as he straightened the
chain along her spine and gathered the trinket into one hand. Her breath caught
as without warning the fingers of his other hand plundered her, two inside her
channel, stroking but without the intent to please. She moaned her protest as
he withdrew them and swirled them in her sopping juices.

“Spread your legs to the edges of the seat.”

With a hard swallow she complied, relaxing into the burning
stretch in her inner thighs.

“Hands clasped on your back.”

Shuddering, she did as she was told, feeling the chain
nestled between her wrists and her spine as she folded her hands together. Her
eyes closed as his fingers slid over the sensitive strip of flesh connecting
her two openings. One finger circled her anus, spreading her cream around the
ever-tightening flesh.

“Relax, darling. This won’t hurt.”

How could it not? She tensed. He prodded. “Let me inside,”
he coaxed, wriggling the tip of his finger into her. Her brain chastised her
for allowing this. She pressed her lips together tightly to keep from uttering
her word. After all, he was right. It didn’t actually…hurt.

“That’s it,” he said when her muscles loosened. His finger
prodded deeper. “See, you can take this comfortably.”

“Y-yes.” Her every thought, every sensation was riveted to
that one spot.

“Yes what?”

“Yes Master.”

“Do you know what I’m going to do with this?” He stroked the
cool crystal pendant along the curve of her buttock.

Oh she could speculate. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter.
“Mm-hmm.”

He let out a little laugh as he bettered his position behind
her and swirled the crystal through the liquid between her legs. Her nipples
hardened and her clit pounded as the finger in her bottom retreated and she
felt the blunt tip of the pendant nudging her.

He pushed it in slowly. Holding her breath, she gritted her
teeth against the tight stretch as her body gave way to accommodate the
invasion. It slid smoothly inside, every bit as deeply as his finger and then
her body closed around the slender neck of the base. She’d expected pain but
there was only this coolness, this erotic fullness—this awakening of taboo
sexual pleasure.

Involuntary muscle contractions protested against the
invasion of her bum. Her clitoris burned from want of attention.

He patted her bottom. “You’ll remain this way until I tell
you to do otherwise.”

No! Please give me release! Please!
Instead of
begging, she whimpered piteously.

“And then I’ll punish you for not remembering that you are
to remain naked in my presence.”

Now, do it now…

Her heart sank as he walked away. Instinct prodded her to
straighten, to watch, to see where he was going. Fear that he’d make her wait
longer for his attentions kept her perfectly still.

A keen knowledge inundated her as she listened to the
everyday sounds of him milling about in his chambers. He sat in a chair across
the room. The leather gave under his weight. The crisply ironed newspaper
rustled as he opened it. Did he mean to leave her here while he read the
blasted
Times
?

Physical sensation quickly took precedence over anything
else. Her knees began to ache against the tufted seat of her chair. The back of
her neck stiffened from her strained position and her shoulders began to burn
from holding her arms behind her back. And oh that devilish device in her bum!
Nerve endings never before stimulated awakened and cried out for more. Her
passage clenched around its own emptiness, her inner muscles causing the
crystal plug to shift.

Superseding it all was the peace she knew only when Adam
stripped her of her free will.

After several minutes, she heard him rise and put the paper
away. His footsteps fell soft on the plush carpet, but—oh no!—he wasn’t coming
for her. Instead he moved away toward the door.

Her fingers knotted into fists as she combated the urge to
call after him.

“I trust I don’t have to tell you that I’ll know if you’ve
moved,” he said as he opened the door.

“Y-yes Master,” she said, her voice thick with need.

The door closed and then he was gone.

* * * * *

Adam leaned against the wall outside his room. Primrose had
looked so bloody beautiful in her submission that he’d struggled with
abstaining from fucking her as soon as he’d put that plug in her ass.

Her submission was so perfect, so sublime. She thrived on
it. He’d known she’d take to the birch and crop from the first time he’d laid
eyes on her but he’d thought she would never get past the initial step of acquiescence.
Most submissives had a prudish side that was harder to tame than their desire
to be sexually humiliated.

He’d known all kinds. Those who derived heightened states
from the pain alone, those who wanted to be forced to do things they already wanted
to do. And then those like Primrose who enjoyed only a mild amount of pain and
a vast amount of shaming domination. She’d bloom in the club’s setting where a
hundred pairs of eyes would be there to witness her pleasurable punishments.

Adam shifted his weight from one leg to the other in hopes
of alleviating the discomfort of his erection.

Before, with the others he’d dominated he’d been in supreme
command, delivering precisely what they needed for their pleasure. His own
pleasure had been in seeing them to satisfaction. That had been enough for him.

Not with Primrose. On her knees she controlled him every bit
as much as he controlled her.

He’d intended to visit the earl, to see if the old man
needed anything to make him more comfortable. But Adam knew he couldn’t go like
this.

“Damn it all to hell,” he muttered and stormed back into his
room. In a fury he snatched a leather paddle from his wardrobe then planted one
hand at the base of Primrose’s spine to anchor her.

Slow down, fool
, he told himself. It wouldn’t do to
let her see the power she held over him.

“Are you ready?” he asked tersely.

“Yes Master,” she said, her voice rich and silky as hot
cocoa.

“Five licks,” he said, calming himself enough to caress the
back of her thigh with the paddle. “Tell me why.”

Her skin rippled as a shudder swept through her. “F-for
wearing clothes when you told me not to.”

“Precisely.” He flicked the tip of the paddle lightly
between her legs and she moaned as it came into contact with her mons. “You’ve
been a terribly naughty, disobedient girl, haven’t you?”

“Yes Master.”

“You will ask me and then thank me for each lick, for
correcting your wayward behavior. Understand?”

“Please may I have the first, Master?”

His eyes closed briefly as he savored the moment. Her skin
felt like warm velvet under his fingertips as he splayed them across her
tailbone. The tip end of the plug protruded from her rosette, wiggling
seductively as her body constricted around it.

She stiffened, waiting. “Relax,” he told her and when he
felt her muscles go lax, he delivered the first blow, a smack that provided
just enough sting to kindle a fire in her bottom.

“Mmm, thank you, Master. The second please.”

Shifting slightly, he smacked the other cheek, delighting in
the rosy blush his paddle left behind. “That’s so lovely.”

The tip of the plug protruding from her bottom raised and
then lowered slightly as she clenched. “Thank you Master. The third.”

Her third swat was hard enough to make her gasp. She
shivered, making the chain running from her collar to the plug slither like a
golden snake against her spine. Her fists tightened. “Thank you, Master. The
fourth.”

Gauging her arousal, he decided to deliver an equally hard
lick. The smack echoed in the room and she let out a tiny cry. The muscles in
her thighs quivered for a moment before she dipped her spine down, offering him
her bottom. “Thank you, Master.” Her voice was low, breathy. “The fifth
please.”

He inhaled and applied the paddle with a firm, hard swat
that made her cheeks jiggle. This time she mewled and rested her forehead on
the back of the chair. Her body shook.

And then he saw a single tear fall and splash on the leather
seat next to her knee. His heart tightened. Panic swamped him. He’d been too
harsh. He’d taken her too far, too quickly. Why hadn’t she used her stop word?

He knew better, but he couldn’t resist asking, “Did I hurt
you?”

She shook her head and sniffed.

“Primrose?” he said, slipping his fingers under her shoulder
to lift her.

Her tear-filled gaze found his. “P-please take me. Please. I
need you inside me, Master.”

Stunned, he gathered her into his arms and carried her to
his bed. She was still deep in her submission so he didn’t remove the collar or
the plug. Instead he undid his breeches, climbed onto the bed, moved over her
and thrust inside her.

The slender plug made her so incredibly tight he knew he’d
never last more than a few strokes. Then again, neither would she.

He ground hard against her clitoris. “Come,” he commanded.

Her eyes widened with a flicker of doubt.

“Come, dammit,” he managed through clenched teeth as he
drove hard against her once more.

Her irises darkened. She gripped his arms, opened her thighs
and tilted her hips into his thrusts. The corners of her lush lips turned up in
a soft smile and her breath caught in her throat. She arched and her body
clamped down hard around him.

Crying out, he gave in and release seized him with sudden
force, building like a volcano and erupting until he couldn’t move.

He wilted over her and as the waves of pleasure ebbed, he became
aware of her fingers burrowing into the hair at his temple. He turned his head
toward her and she claimed his mouth, kissing him deeply until he grew hard
inside her again.

Primrose felt empty when Adam finally removed the crystal
plug over an hour later. Snuggled in the wealth of covers on his bed, she
pretended to be asleep until the servant who’d brought up a tray of cold
chicken, wine and a pitcher of milk left.

“Are you hungry?” Adam asked as he returned to the bed.

Primrose sat up. “Famished.” She smiled as their gazes met
and her stomach quivered as if there were butterflies trying to escape it.
Something was happening between them but she didn’t dare try to figure out
what.

“We haven’t discussed this,” Adam said, loosening the belt
of his silk banyan. “But just how deeply do you want to delve into submission?”

Warmth infused her cheeks at the mention of it. Submitting
to him was one thing while actually doing it. Talking about it was wholly
something else.

He stroked her cheek and tipped up her chin so that she
looked into his eyes again. “You are safe to examine this with me, darling.”

Darling…

His tenderness tortured her far worse than any of his
punishments.

He continued. “I was afraid I’d hurt you earlier. Had I
known your limits I would have taken you further.”

She couldn’t quell a grin. “I didn’t say the word did I?”

He smiled. “No, you did not.” He shook his head in
self-deprecation. “I’m far more experienced than that. I should have known you
were willing to risk more. Next time I will most definitely carry you further.”

Her sex pulsed hungrily. “H-how much further?”

“Complete submission,” he said silkily. “I will feed you,
clothe you, give you permission to experience pleasure. Withhold as I see fit.
Prolong. Persist. If you wish I will control your every need.”

Primrose considered agreeing to all the things he’d
mentioned. Every bit of it appealed to her and she didn’t know why. The thought
of just how easily she could allow him full Mastery terrified her. This wasn’t
who she’d been groomed to be. She was no street urchin given to hedonism.

And yet everything inside her cried out to agree to anything
he wanted.

She hardly knew herself any longer.

She swallowed and searched his eyes. “Is that…what you
want?”

He tore off a succulent piece of chicken. “Darling, this is
not really about what I want. You know that, don’t you?”

Shame flooded her as realization settled. She did control
this exchange between them. She commanded him every bit as powerfully as he
commanded her—through one word. Love.

All she had to do was utter it for him to stop. She’d never
dreamed she would trust him but something in his whiskey-colored eyes promised
her he’d never cross a line where her pleasure was concerned.

Another realization dawned on her. “On our wedding night…”

His eyes darkened.

She struggled to finish. “You weren’t angry you’d been…forced
to marry me. You were cross because you thought you’d hurt me.”

She leaned forward and accepted the bite of chicken he
offered, the simple act taking her back to that peaceful space where she could
simply be.

“Of course I was angry I’d hurt you. No woman should
experience the sort of callous treatment I dealt you that night.”

“You didn’t know…” Her heart went out to him. “How could you
have? I’d…I lied to you.” She hung her head, the shame that swelled inside her
far worse than what she experienced under Adam’s command. This shame was…ugly.

“Ah that,” he muttered. “Yes, you never really told me why
you felt the need.”

“The earl suggested it.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“He told me if I didn’t marry you he could not prevent my
father from arranging a contract with Benedict.”

At that Adam gave her a wry smile. “And you thought me the
lesser of the two evils?”

“You were so kind to me that night my horse threw me,” she
told him, wide-eyed. Then she smiled. “Besides, it was only a little lie. You
would certainly have spoiled me had you not passed out.”

He laughed. “Guilty as charged.” His mirth faded and the
timbre of his voice dropped. “Would you have let me?”

She didn’t have to think. “I would have done anything for
you.”

He stilled for a moment before tearing off another morsel of
chicken to feed her. This time when she took it she let her lips linger against
his fingers. She was being far too bold. She knew she was. But she couldn’t
stop herself.

She chewed then swallowed her food. “Can you ever forgive
me?”

His grin returned. “Oh I think a few more spankings are in
order but yes, pet. You are already forgiven.”

Relieved, she reached for a glass of milk. He patted her
hand, shooing her away. “Uh-uh-uh.”

She arched an eyebrow in question and without warning that
subtle shift took hold of her, whisking her to that inner space. “May I have
some milk…Master?”

“Yes, you may,” he uttered as he lifted the glass to her
lips.

Watching him over the rim, she sipped the liquid.

“Am I forgiven for deserting you?” he asked pointedly.

She almost blurted a resounding yes but stopped short. Her
heart felt like a painful knot in her chest. “I want to…but I know you’ll just
leave again.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed. The bleak depths she’d come to
know returned to his eyes. “You know me too well, Primrose.” He tore off a
piece of chicken but neither ate it nor offered it to her. “Suppose I am the
biggest lie of all?”

She stared, not understanding.

He snorted in derision, suddenly seeming torn. Stricken.

“What’s the matter?” Fear twittered in her belly.

He clenched his teeth and then gave her a disparaging grin
that made her soul-sick. “I have little other choice. You have been kind to me
when anyone else would have cast me to the wolves.” He took a deep breath and
blew it out.

“Of course I have, Adam. I—” She was on the verge of
admitting something she’d never thought she’d confess aloud when he put his
finger to her lips, silencing her.

“You want an heir,” he said simply.

Her mind ran rampant with possibility. Was he incapable of
producing one? Was he—God forbid—disease-ridden? “You’re frightening me, Adam.”

He blinked, looked up at the ceiling and then back into her
eyes. The indecision vanished and the hard glitter returned. “Perhaps you
should have married my cousin after all.”

Anger flared. She wanted to slap him for uttering such
nonsense. She gaped at him. “You’re mad. Whatever are you going on about?”

He sighed. And then after several heartbeats he muttered,
“Nothing.”

* * * * *

“After ’e ate his breakfast,” Irene told Adam the next
morning. “He went into one of ’is fits, and I give him ’is tincture.”

Adam gazed at the earl who now slept—though from time to
time a tic-like paroxysm contorted the muscles in his face and hands. Adam had
never seen someone afflicted thus and he hated the frustrating sense of
helplessness he felt. In the few weeks he’d been home, the earl’s condition had
neither worsened nor improved. “Has the physician been round?”

Blinking hard and fast, Irene worried her bottom lip. “Yes
milord. Dr. Gallagher came early this mornin’ before the fits started.”

Adam reached for the brown glass bottle on the nightstand.
Lifting it, he studied the label. “What’s in this?”

“I don’t rightly know,” she told him, casting her gaze
downward. “I s’pose it’s mostly laudanum. It’s the only thing wot eases ’im.”

Adam returned the bottle to the night table and bent to
touch Thorley’s folded hands. At once the old man’s eyes fluttered open. He
began to mumble and panic filled his gaze. He grasped in vain at Adam.

Adam took both hands in his. “I’m here…Father. Can I get you
something?”

Thorley’s throat rattled. “Ben…” His voice came out in a
hoarse gasp.

“I don’t understand.”

“Ben…”

Adam grappled desperately for some meaning. He glanced at
the nurse who’d begun nervously gathering her apron in her hands.

“Ben…Lashw—”

Comprehension sank in. “Benedict? Do you want Benedict? I
can send for him if you like.”

The earl shook his head vehemently. He seemed frustrated.
Tears seeped from the corners of his eyes and then his hands went limp and he
fell back against the pillows, mumbling incoherently.

Irene came forward and checked Thorley’s forehead for a
fever. “Lord Lashwood paid ’im a visit earlier this mornin’. Maybe ‘e thinks
yer ’im, milord.”

“Does he get confused often?” Something didn’t seem right.

“Oh yes milord. Most days.” She reached for the drops and
turned the bottle up so that some of the medicine fell on the earl’s tongue.
“There, there.”

Adam watched her soothe the old man until he drifted back to
sleep. He could not dismiss the belief that something was amiss. He resolved to
speak with the earl’s physician.

Surely something more could be done.

He rose and bade farewell to the nurse before venturing out
into the hallway, intent on paying a call to Thorley’s physician. But first he
needed to attend to his wife whom he had left collared and plugged, kneeling
facedown on his bed.

* * * * *

Primrose said a silent prayer as she listened to the sound
of Adam coming into the room. Her passage tightened, shifted the crystal bauble
secreted deep inside her bum. At least he’d left her kneeling on the bed this
time, though he’d been gone for far longer than the other times he’d forced her
to wait.

“Come here,” he commanded, the authoritative tone in his
voice sending a shiver of pleasure through her.

She climbed off the bed and walked toward him, her movements
causing the torturous plug to make her ache for more.

For six weeks now she’d surrendered to his beck and call.
She’d sat on her knees wearing her jeweled collar while he perused the
Times
.
She’d stood silently hidden behind the door, naked and throbbing for his touch
while his valet dressed him. And when Adam had touched her, when he’d ended her
torture and gave her release, she wept from the sheer pleasure of it.

His admiring gaze raked her. “On your knees,” he whispered
as he undid the buttons of his fly.

She dropped and obediently opened her mouth as he nudged her
lips with his erection. As he filled her, his fingers threaded into her hair,
drawing her closer, coaxing her to take more and more of him.

His husky moans encouraged her and she flicked her tongue
along the underside of his cock as he gently thrust into her mouth.

“So sweet…” he muttered.

She sucked rhythmically at the head and then engulfed him,
delighting in the way his fingers tightened against her scalp. He tasted warm
and masculine, like soap and leather. Relaxing her jaw, she opened to take
more. She held his hips in place as she worked her mouth over him.

When she’d first seen him bedeviled by opium in that squalid
den, she’d never guessed she’d take such pleasure in an act such as this. In
him.

A tendril of fear snaked through her that he’d leave again
but his voice dragged her out of her thoughts and back to the moment.

“God woman, slow down unless you want me to come down your
throat.”

As she licked the head she cut her gaze up at him, telling
him without words she was prepared for him to do just that. But he stepped back
and stooped to gather her into his arms. He lifted her just enough to walk her
to the wall then he hooked an arm under one of her legs and dragged her onto
his arousal.

A gasp tore from her throat and he plunged inside her.

Bracing her against the paneling he held her legs up and
claimed her with short, deep thrusts. Primrose clung to his shoulders, the
sensation too wild, too passionate. The collar tugged at her neck. The plug
seemed to fill her fuller with every drive of Adam’s cock.

His hand slid up to her throat and he lifted her chin. “Look
at me,” he said, his words punctuated by the cadenced force of his hips.

She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes until she opened
them. Her stomach knotted at the feral look he bestowed on her. She struggled
to maintain his gaze.

“Come,” he commanded. “Come, Primrose.”

Her lashes fluttered. Her body reacted to his consent and
sudden ecstasy rattled through her like a runaway cart, heightened by the sound
of his rough moans as he found release deep inside her.

His mouth covered hers, surprising her, stealing her breath
as his tongue plundered, entreating response. Her heart soared with joy. He’d
initiated the most intimate of acts with her. Could he possibly have real
feelings for her? She didn’t dare entertain the idea. It was far too
frightening. Far too risky.

Finally his lips left hers. He eased her off his spent cock
and lowered her to the floor then deftly popped the plug free. She ached for
the loss of it, of him.

She searched his eyes and something deeper than a physical
connection sparked inside her. She drew in a shuddering breath, needing
something more from him than his touch or his domination. “Adam…”

Gazing at her, he swept his thumb along her cheekbone.
Something akin to panic flickered in his eyes. His forehead crinkled as if he
were in minor pain and then he sought her mouth again. His lips grazed hers,
sure but tender and so at odds with the way he’d recently taken her against the
unyielding wall.

Her body warmed. She could have stood there forever. Her
naked. Him half-clothed. Tasting his delightfully sweet mouth as it plied hers.
His body pressed against her and she found her shoulders once more at the wall.

Her fingers speared into his hair and she held his head
captive.

When he licked at her lips she opened, admitting his tongue.
Before when they’d kissed, he’d pillaged her mouth the way he took her body.
Forcefully with a burning need to sate their mutual desires. But this kiss—this
tender kiss—made her heart race. It kindled that emotion roiling in her gut she
dared not name. This kiss was far more dangerous than any pleasurable
punishment he meted out to her, for it had the power to destroy her, to dredge
up that place where she’d stood five long miserable years ago.