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“I expect... obedience, Ms. Fisher... and I think you’ll find,” he growled, “that once you’ve tasted my obedience... you’ll enjoy it.”
“I... I told you... you no, last night, m’lord, but b... because,” she tried to explain herself, her voice thin and soft.
“Shhh,” he murmured, a finger held to her lips. “I respect a woman of propriety... a virginal woman, a woman of integrity...” he reassured her. “I felt something different, with you, Ms. Fisher...” he stepped behind her, and she heard a quiet rustling; with steely fingers grasping her wrists, she yelped as his strength bound her wrists together; a leather belt held them tight, and all she could do was wriggle her fingers.
“I can’t...” she protested. “Th... the duchess, she waits just outside, for you, Lord Parris,” Audrey fought to make a thousand excuses, her mind telling her it was so wrong, so full of scandal. But when his hands massaged her shoulders and gave them just what she had wanted, if only for a moment, and she felt his lips on her skin again, she couldn’t hold out any longer. Aunt Bette’s words filled her mind; then Agatha’s. Then that sneered threat, seethed through the duchess’s teeth. She saw Ana’s scowling face as she turned her face so hungrily and locked lips with him again. She felt good, submitting - her wrists tied. Losing control would normally terrify Audrey, but with him, it felt... right. Like a puzzle piece fallen in to a perfect jigsaw of hot bodies stoked in lusty need.
“You can submit slowly, at first,” he teased her, kissing along her cheekbone, her lips gaping and her eyes half-shut with hunger aching in every thick breath. With his strength he pressed her stomach against the dining hall table, chairs screeching as he threw them aside; she moaned as his rippling muscles pressed against her back. Audrey took in a deep breath, biting her bottom lip, her fingers wriggling; it was so foreign a sensation, but the scandal made it feel so much better than she could have imagined. His fingers curled into her frilly white panties, just beneath her loose skirt, her breaths grew frantic, starved; she had spent her whole life a sweet and chaste maid, and now, as her heart beat so steadily for him, she couldn’t believe how much she wanted him this way.
“M... master,” she cooed, shuddering on the table. “M... m’lord, pl... please, be gentle, I don’t... I’ve never been with a man,” she admitted sheepishly. With rapturous care he held her waist, squeezing her softly and whispering warm into her wanting ear.
“I’d never hurt you,” he promised. “...Unless you liked it,” he added with a dirty laugh, kissing along her cheek. A thousand questions filled her prudent young mind but nothing mattered right now because of how good it felt to be so close to him. She felt the bulge stiff against her backside, her milky skin blushing bright, her folds damp and inviting as he pulled his slacks to his hips, his powerful length gently entering her slowly at first; inch, by inch. He stretched her hesitantly, and while the sting burned the virgin at first, it felt so good she couldn’t even comprehend it. Wound so tight was her quaking, innocent body that when he finally filled her, his shaft spasming and hardening deep inside of her unclaimed flesh, she cried out his name, her body erupting with orgasmic pleasure along every nerve, her muscles stiffening and her limbs flexing tensely. He cooed into her ear, and she couldn’t even process the sounds; the feelings, other than that with her hands bound and her body claimed everything felt so good, better than she could have thought it would ever be.
“You feel so good,” the lord admitted, holding onto her shoulders tightly as he entered her faster, stiffer, stronger; his muscles ached against her skin as he held her close, pumping his hips against her until she cried out his name and orgasmed again; this time, he joined her in an immaculate and heavenly symphony of lusty moans. He held onto the bindings on her wrists tight, stuffing her full and deep as wave after wave after messy wave of his release warmed her succulent, feminine depths. She could barely breathe as their bodies came down from those amazing highs; he gripped her close, pulling her down into a chair with him, kissing along her neck as she savored every spasming feeling of his climax filling her deep.
“M... m’lord,” she fought a failing battle to catch her breath, her fiery hair a mess; sweat beads rolling down her brow. “I... I didn’t know, that it... I had imagined so much, of my first time, but I never knew, it would be...”
“Like that?” he finished for her, confidence shining through his smirk. “I suppose I have a duchess to tend to... don’t I?” Audrey scowled.
“I... I don’t...”
“I can stay here with you, for just a few more moments,” he hummed playfully. The thought excited Audrey.
“Please,” she begged in a quiet whisper, squirming as he unfurled the belt binding her wrists. She wrapped her arms adoringly around the rake, who smiled his satisfied little smile.
Chapter 6
It had been painful hours since midday. Painful hours separated from him - from those wild things he had done to her body. She was no longer a virgin, and it made her feel so much scandal. He had claimed her innocence, just like Aunt Bette and Agatha had warned against.
And now she couldn’t stop worrying about it.
Aunt Bette had warned her. Agatha had warned her. And while those moments in the duke’s embrace had felt so dirty and so heavenly, she had spent every moment since with her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She had given in. She had lost her pride - just like they had told her not to. Lord Parris proved too much for her to handle. She frantically scrubbed the floor of the dining hall, over and over again, fearful that the moments spent in dripping lust with him wouldn’t linger; that the scent of their bodies together wouldn’t alert Ana, or worse, Duchess Francine, of what had happened in those steamy moments. At supper time, she had cried; her heart welling with emotion, she hid in a corner of the dining hall and cried, nerves on edge as she imagined the tumultuous course her life would take, now.
What would happen to Audrey, if Ana found out? Her life would come to closely resemble hell. Even worse, the duchess could have her career ruined. A young woman with no where to work. The anxiety crept into her as she continued cleaning, until night stretched deep across the moors. She had lost track of time when the room grew dark enough that she lit the candelabra on the table, her breath quivering. No one had bothered her; no one had come to see her. By the time Agatha pulled open the doors that night to check the room, Audrey had nearly scrubbed the finish from the floorboards.
“Audrey? Are you still in here?” Agatha asked, exhausted; she peered across the dining room, finally finding the frantic young girl huddled in the corner of the dining hall, her brush scrubbing wildly at a nonexistent stain. “Audrey? What’ve— have you been at this all afternoon, dear?”
“M-Miss Ag... Ms. Agatha,” she stammered, the momentary mania washing away; she realized just how absurd she must have looked; how absurd she had been acting. “I’m... sorry, Ms. Agatha, I. I got carried away, I supposed.”
“Carried away, perhaps,” Agatha observed coolly, eying up and down the long, narrow hall, its floors spotless; each chair polished, even the dining silver laid out at each place glowing and pristine. “...the dining hall looks wonderful, Audrey. You’ve done more than I had expected.” Still, Agatha’s voice remained guarded, her expression peculiar. “But you’ve finished now, yes? What’s got you in that corner?”
“O-oh,” Audrey murmured, “th... I was... there was a s-stain, and...”
“Calm your nerves, girl,” Agatha smiled, matronly. “What’s got you so shaken?”
“N... nothing, Ms. Agatha,” Audrey lied. Agatha shook her head.
“Francine came in here this afternoon, before she and duke left, didn’t she?” Agatha crowed knowingly. “And I’m certain he didn’t exactly treat you well, did she?”
“Ms. Agatha, I shouldn’t gossip,” Audrey whispered nervously.
“Gossip? A-ha! Speaking on the duchess’s predilection for tormenting working girls is hardly gossip, Ms. Fisher,” Agatha guffawed. “Now, speaking on how Lord Parris returned home from what was to be a three day’s trip with her... perhaps that’s inching towards scandal,” Agatha smirked; Audrey blinked, voice swallowed by the gasp in her throat.
“L... Lord Parris, he’s returned already?” she asked, equally hopeful and confused.
“He’s asked to see you, in fact, Audrey. To deliver him tea,” Agatha intoned. Audrey played utterly foolish.
“Asked sp... ecifically for me? I’m... well, it’s been a hard day of work, perhaps Ana could help him,” Audrey requested meekly. Agatha regarded Audrey skeptically, sensing something amiss. Audrey kept her face straight, with a weak and tired smile on her lips.
