by Allison West
His kisses traveled down her torso and across her stomach in soft light movements as he parted her thighs and let his breath tingle against her wetness. Already she was soaked, and he could smell her sweet aroma that made his cock twitch in his trousers.
She moaned as his tongue grazed her quim, and his nose nuzzled the tiny bead that had reddened and begun to swell under his ministrations. His fingers slipped into her warmth, stroking as he licked her clit, grazing each side, listening to her sounds and watching the flush spread across her body.
"Papa," she moaned, further eliciting excitement from Philip as her eyes squeezed shut. He quickened his movements as he felt her tightening around his digits, her insides swelling, about ready to explode as her toes curled and her body tightened around him, clenching her legs together as much as possible. He steadied her with one hand, the other continuing to stroke her. His tongue teased her bud as she shuddered beneath him.
Gasping for air, Etta slowly opened her eyes, staring down at him. Her hands reached for his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Her skin was warm but this time he knew why as he crawled up her torso, covering her in soft sweet kisses.
"Take off your trousers," Etta said. She then tugged at the cotton undergarment beneath them. "Everything off."
Philip pinned her down, his breath teasing her, refusing to kiss her. "Who is in charge?" he asked, reminding her that he was the boss and she was to submit to him.
"I know. I know. Let me do this for you, all right?" Her hands traveled down his stomach and reached for his cock, taking it into her hand, her fingers stroking the length. She guided him onto his back and then she climbed around, straddling him as she leaned down, taking his glistening shaft into her mouth.
His fingers tangled in her hair as he felt her tongue graze the head of his cock, forcing his insides to tighten and swell. She sparked something in him that he had not realized had been dormant.
Her lips moved along his length, sucking and licking the shaft, taking him deeper inside her throat.
Philip's eyes slammed shut and one hand stayed planted in her hair, the other tangling in the bed sheets as he tried not to hurt her. He could not remember the last time a woman had willingly serviced him in this manner. The littles he disciplined—but he never rewarded them with sexual behavior. That had been strictly left up to their papas. He'd been missing out for years on what another woman could give to him. Etta had restored his faith in love. His heart pounded against his ribcage as she took him into the back of her throat. Not even his wife had been able to do that. It was a skill they taught to the littles, and it took time to master. Etta apparently was a natural.
She hummed softly, and the vibrations and her soft thrusts were enough to send him over the edge.
He grunted and moaned; an attempt to warn her about what was to follow. She kept her mouth around his cock, swallowing the liquid as it poured into her throat and down her chin. Etta licked up every drop, wiping the remains around her lips.
Philip gasped, collapsing onto the bed, shocked that he had not even asked her to swallow, yet she'd done it on her own. "Have you ever—" He wanted to know if that had been the first time she'd done that.
Blushing, she shook her head. "Just for you. I hope I did all right?"
He grinned. She did not need to worry. For a beginner, she'd been skilled, and it made his heart throb and cock threaten to twitch at the mere thought that if that was a first, what else could she be good at that they had not tried? Were there new possibilities that he had not considered? He was well versed in submission and sex, but perhaps Etta knew something he did not.
"You did amazingly," he said, lying down on the bed, pulling her to lie with him. His fingers smoothed over her hips and across her stomach. Just staring at her naked body was making him crave a second round.
Chapter 25
All she wanted to do was please him. Philip had been kind and generous to her, firm yet loving. He had opened her to new experiences and showed her a world she had never imagined possible.
"I do not want to wait until we are married," Etta said.
"What is that?" Papa asked.
"I want you to take my purity," she whispered, not wanting anyone else to overhear her words. Her fingers moved down his stomach and between his legs, reaching for his cock.
"Etta, that is something I believe should only happen after we marry."
"Then marry me tonight," she said, her eyes dark and filled with longing. She had had a taste and desired more.
"We cannot. Even if I wanted to, and I do, it is not possible."
She leaned in, brushing her lips over his. "I do not care." If he would not marry her tonight, then he could satisfy the throbbing that had built once again between her thighs. Etta reached for his hand, dragging it across the folds of her wetness, letting him feel the need building inside her.
Philip kissed her, pushing his tongue past her lips, rolling her onto her back as he shoved his knee against the juncture of her parted thighs.
She opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing when she felt him rock against her, the pressure overwhelming and seemingly insatiable. Etta moaned, her head lolling back with her neck exposed, and her papa leaned in, kissing the milky white skin, licking and sucking as he trailed a path of wet kisses down her breasts.
"I want to feel you inside me." She craved more than just his tongue and fingers. What they had done thus far had been great but not enough.
Her hand moved down between them, finding his cock, her fingers grazed the tip and stroked the shaft as he grew under her touch.
His lips above her heart paused as she aroused him, his fingers pulling tighter against her hips, the need building between them. He pushed her hand away and guided his own hand down to his cock, positioning himself at her entrance.
"Spread your legs," he said, instructing her on what to do.
Etta shifted her legs further apart.
He towered above her, the head of his cock glistening as he inched it inside her tight entrance.
She moaned, already he was stretching her and he'd barely pushed inside her quim. Slowly he moved with more intensity, causing her lips to part and a cry to expel from her mouth as he pushed past her maidenhead.
Philip covered her lips, tangled his legs with hers and rolled her slightly to the side, spanking her raw bottom.
Etta whimpered, the pain no longer radiating in her quim but on her backside. Her tight muscles seemed to relax as he drew his cock most of the way out before sliding back inside her tight canal, guiding her once again onto her back.
Her fingers trailed over his skin and down his torso, her nails burying in his rear as he continued to thrust and grind his hips into hers. Her body felt as though it were on fire. The burn was negligible compared to the throbbing pulsating sensation she felt as he filled her. Etta found his lips, needing to taste him with kisses, drinking him in, the smell of sex surrounding them as her toes curled.
He dipped his fingers down to her clit, two digits rubbing over the swollen pearl. Her body tightened around his cock, shuddering as she moaned, unraveling around him.
Philip pushed harder and faster, letting himself go along with her, soaking her cunny with his seed. Gingerly he slid from her quim and untangled himself from her embrace. Panting and gasping for air, he sat up, perched on the edge of the bed. After a moment of catching his breath, he leaned down to pick up his clothes.
Etta sat up in bed, confused. "Where are you going, Papa?"
"Nowhere. I just do not think it is appropriate for anyone to see us both lying naked when Nanny Beth comes in."
"You care what she thinks?" Etta asked and laughed. It was the most absurd thing she'd heard since arriving at Ashby.
Her papa sighed. "We have a reputation to uphold."
"Do you love me?" she asked, her voice soft and tentative. If Philip was to marry her, then her reputation at Ashby made very little difference. Besides, the outside world had no idea what went on behind the
closed doors of Ashby. Unless Nanny Beth blabbed about it—and Etta suspected that would be against the rules—then she had nothing to worry about.
"Yes, of course." He turned around to face her.
"Then I do not care what Nanny Beth or anyone thinks," Etta said. "I want you to stay with me."
Philip pulled his cotton underpants back on and then drew back the covers, joining Etta to lie down. He wrapped his arms around her, the sheets keeping them warm along with each other.
Philip had felt bad, untangling himself from Etta's warm comfortable embrace as morning arrived. He had work to do and needed to check on how everything had been while he was away.
He crept out of bed and took his trousers and shirt from the floor, putting the clothes back on before slipping from her room. He tried to be quiet with the door, not wanting to stir her awake. She'd had quite a long day away from the chateau.
"You are back," Nanny Beth said, coming down the hall, catching sight of him exiting Etta's room.
He hoped she had not noticed that he was wearing the same clothing as he had the previous day. "Yes. Etta is asleep. I suggest you let her get some rest. It is been a tough couple of days on her. When she wakes up, get her breakfast and then send her to the playroom with Leda." He still needed to know what was going on with little Leda. Was she coming around after her recent discipline, or did she perhaps need to be let go, sent into the world on her own, without her papa to look after her?
Philip paid Nanny Vivian a visit, making sure she was handling Gracie all right. Gracie had taken time to adjust but she was not the problem child that little Leda had become. Each girl had her own unique personality. He had to remind himself of that every time a new young woman was brought into the school as a little.
The morning drudged by the more he thought about Etta. At around mid-morning, he headed into the playroom, hoping that Etta had spent some time with Leda. Philip watched from the window. Etta did not seem pleased. Had Leda told her something that had upset her? He waited several minutes, watching the exchange before Etta walked up to Nanny Beth and whispered something into her ear. Nanny Beth's eyes seemed to meet Philip's, though she could not see him. He swallowed nervously and watched as Nanny Beth stood, taking Etta by the hand as she led her out of the room.
"Papa!" Etta's eyes lit up. She rushed toward him, throwing her arms around him.
Philip wrapped his arms around his little one. "How are you getting along with Leda?"
"All right, I guess. Her papa told her that she could leave and not marry him if that is what she desires. Do you know what she did?"
"What?" Philip asked, surprised that Papa Francis had the willpower to relinquish absolute control.
"She stayed. Leda told me that she is too afraid to leave, to be an adult again. It is why she acts out and causes so much trouble. If she marries her papa and leaves the chateau, she is worried she will have to grow up. It is why she told me about pretending so she could get away. Leda's devious but it is only because she wants to be loved."
Philip breathed a sigh of relief. He kissed Etta's forehead. "I have a present for you in my office. Would you like to come and see it?"
Etta's eyes twinkled and she nodded vigorously, excited.
He took her by the hand and led her to his study. "You can wait out here," he said to Nanny Beth. Leading Etta inside, he pointed to a large brown box perched on his desk, big enough to hold a top hat. "For you, my little one." He took the box from the desk and handed it to Etta.
She sat down on the couch, opening the box on her lap, revealing a perfectly sewn rag doll. "Is this for me?" she asked. All the toys in the playroom were to be shared and left in there.
"Yes," Philip said and smiled. "For my little Etta. You have your own dolly to hug at night when I am not beside you." He kissed her forehead. "How about we go back into the playroom? You can bring your new friend with you and show her to Leda and Gracie."
"Won't they be jealous?" Etta asked.
"If they know what is good for them, they will be pleased for you and behave."
Etta wrapped her arms around her papa, giving him another hug. "Thank you," she said, kissing his cheek. "You have made me the happiest girl alive."
It was exactly what he had wanted, to love and cherish her, make her completely his, and he had done exactly that.
The End
The Nanny
Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.
A Virginia Corporation
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
©2019
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Allison West
The Nanny
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-138-5V1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
v2
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
Chapter 1
Georgiana Hayes' fingers were bitten with cold as she pulled the rag of a dark red cloak tighter around her small frame. Shivering, she realized that the weather was the least of her worries as her stomach grumbled. When had she last eaten? Two days ago?
If she closed her eyes and blocked out the nightmare of her current situation, she could still remember the taste of her last warm meal; the potatoes covered in butter, and the roast lamb that had been brined and well-prepared for the guests who were to attend dinner. Months had passed since she had eaten a full meal, or sat at a table with other guests. Lately, her food came snatched from the market, and she ate in the shadows to keep from getting caught. Giana's hands twitched, and whether it was from the cold or her nerves, she knew she had no choice if she wanted to survive. At twenty-three, her prospects for marriage had dwindled now she was living on the streets. She once had been betrothed to a handsome gentleman with a thick accent from Sheffield, but he had perished in an unexpected fire that had burned down his estate, with him locked up inside. Her parents had assured Giana that another man would take her hand; she just needed to give them time to secure her a proper marriage. The thought had not seemed so dire—until the scandal… the scandal that had forced her from her childhood home and out onto the street.
The cold assaulted her lungs and made her nose throb every time she crinkled her face just slightly to ensure that it had not been entirely numbed from frostbite. The winter was far more brutal this year than any other she could remember, or perhaps her lack of appropriate attire for the cold simply made it feel that way. Without a proper coat, galoshes, mittens, or a hat, Giana felt certain she would freeze to death. The dress she was wearing was appropriate for a brisk autumn afternoon, but not for the colder months of winter. The sleeves of the gown were thin and light, with white lace, which had torn weeks ago. The hem of the black and gold garment had been muddied, tattered, and soiled from her sleeping on the grass or a cobblestone alley. She had been using the cloak to shield herself from the elements and blanket herself from the chill of the night. The soles of her shoes had worn down to the leather underneath, the front separating as her toes poked through and the icy wind assaulted her extremities. Had she known… had she planned for a harsh life on the streets, her attire wouldn't have been so delicate and thin.
Giana desperately needed to escape the cold. Perhaps a hot cuppa would ease her suffering and warm her from the inside out, but she did not have the money to purchase a drink. Stealing piping hot liquid would not be advisable, so Giana did only what she had done for the past two months while homeless—she snatched a piece of fruit, vegetable, or bread f
rom the market when no one was paying attention. Small items she found that she could reach out and hide under her cloak without being noticed. She felt invisible, as the dirt had caked her skin and matted her once beautiful brown curly hair.
With the hood of her cloak shielding her face and her head bent down, she walked alongside the market, reaching out to grab a bundle of carrots. It was the closest item to the edge of the table, and as someone walked past, she knocked slightly left into them before stealing the carrots with her other hand, swiping the vegetables and burying them deep within her cloak. Giana kept her head down and continued to walk faster as she rounded the corner in case anyone saw what she had done.
There were no shouts, no curses, or threats from the shop owner chasing her down. It had almost felt too easy, but she knew the risk was great if she got caught.
Giana had backed into an alleyway, peering out just slightly to see if anyone had followed her. A gentleman in a crisp, dark gray suit and top hat headed right for her. Perhaps he would pass the small alleyway and continue down the road without a second glance in her direction. She had felt invisible lately, and why would he care to see what she had done? Turning her back, she removed the carrots, pleased with the bounty she had procured. If she rationed the food, she could eat three meals a day and not have to steal again for a few days' time.
"You look cold," a male voice said from behind her.
Her heart stopped. Her body froze even though her mind screamed for her to flee.
"Would you allow me to buy you a warm drink and perhaps a proper meal?"
Giana quickly stuffed the carrots into her cloak, spun around on her worn shoes, and glanced the gentleman over. He was the same man she had seen heading toward the alley. She had been wrong in assuming he would continue past and ignore her as everyone else had. What did he want with her? Why was he being kind? It troubled her, but so did the frigid cold in the thin gown and shabby cloak that was becoming not more than a shawl. Soon the hood would be worn to shreds, and she would be forced to show her face to the men from whom she stole. Could she not perhaps steal a few pence from this man in front of her, to warm her toes and procure a coat that would keep her warm outside? Stealing was dangerous, not to mention morally wrong, and doing so from a man who was being nothing but generous would be downright mad, but Giana found herself out of options. She was a terrible pickpocket, trying it only once to discover a stern hand on her arm. Giana had fled and refused to look back, promising herself at that moment that she would never do so again. That had been her second day on the streets. She had hardened since that awful incident two months ago.
