by james
Steam rose from the tub, and she went to stick her finger in the water to test its temperature. Smiling with pleasure, she hurriedly slipped out of her sodden gown. She tossed it over a nearby chair to dry, then climbed into the bath.
“This must be what heaven is like,” she murmured, and closed her eyes.
She sank low, too low, and the water went up her nose. She sat up, sputtering and pushing her hair from her face, then laughed with delight. On a low stool near the tub sat a small lump of soap and a cloth. She lathered the rag until the bubbles foamed high in her hand. Starting with her hair, she scrubbed every inch of herself, and then sank back beneath the surface to rinse. The water had begun to cool, and she looked around for something with which to dry. A towel hung on a peg near the fireplace and she leaned out to grab it.
“I thought I told you to lock the door!”
Bridgett screamed and sank back into the water, but a strong hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her up.
She gasped and tried to jerk away from the steely grip. Damp locks of hair fell over her face and in her eyes and she brushed them away with her free hand.
“Oh, milord, it’s you! You nearly frightened me to death!”
She stopped struggling, only to have her foot hit a slippery spot on the bottom of the tub. She pitched forward and he caught and lifted her, dripping wet, into his arms.
“Milord! Your coat!” Bridgett looked in horror at the growing watermark on the fine-cut cloth.
The Count ignored her cry of dismay and skirted the tub to set her on her feet before the fire.
“Anyone could have entered this room while you bathed.”
Bridgett cringed at the anger she heard in his voice.
“Forgive me, milord. It’s just that I was so anxious to try the bath.” She gestured helplessly to the tub, then wrapped her arms about her waist and shivered. It suddenly occurred to her that she was totally nude. The heat of his gaze told her that he had noticed it, too. Her skin tingled in anticipation of his touch.
“You’re cold.”
It was a statement, not a question, but Bridgett nodded. “I’m naked and wet.”
Her words earned her a scowl, but he reached for the drying cloth and draped it across her shoulders.
“Dry off,” he told her, and then turned away, stalking toward the bed.
Bridgett stared at the broad expanse of his back for a moment, experiencing an odd sense of disappointment. Why had he walked away?
Another fit of shivers shook her and she hurriedly began wiping the water from her icy flesh. When she finished, she glanced at her old, dirty dress and sighed.
“You can burn that.”
She glanced at the Count. He seemed to make a habit of reading her thoughts.
“Did you manage to find me another dress then?”
“Yes.” He turned from her and began to unwrap a parcel that lay on the foot of the bed.
Bridgett came to stand behind him, peering around to see what treasures he’d disclose. Her eyes widened as he pulled a long, silky looking garment from the package. It billowed in the air to drift down and caress her arm as he shook it and held it out to her.
“It’s…it’s lovely, milord.” She carefully took the frothy garment from his hands and stared at it, trying not to let him see her disappointment. She’d freeze to death in this! Although it was black, it was nearly see-through, with the tiniest of straps to hold it on her shoulders. She would be better off in her old shift, even in its torn and dirty state.
The Count still bent over the parcel, and she directed her attention to the remainder of items he’d spread out over the mattress, hoping to see a cloak of some sort.
She gasped. “Oh, milord, they’re beautiful!”
Two dresses made of thick and shimmering velvet, and an assortment of accessories covered the bed.
She reached to brush her fingertips over the soft material, heaving a sigh of satisfaction. She would not freeze, after all.
The Count took her old dress from the back of the chair and tossed it into the fire. She watched it burst into flames, the room becoming momentarily brighter, and shook her head. Now what would she wear when the time came for her to take her place as his servant? She surely could not work in her new attire.
“Put on your nightdress. I’ll be back shortly.”
Her nightdress. She glanced down at the bit of nothing she still held in her hands. Of course! She slipped the garment over her head, thankful she hadn’t voiced her dismay when he’d handed it to her, lest he think her a complete simpleton. The silk slid across her breasts and down over her hips like a soft caress, reminding her of his touch. She adjusted the straps on her shoulders, then looked up to find him staring at her. The expression on his face made her shiver, and she glanced away.
The door clicked shut and she looked back in dismay. Once again, she’d managed to displease him. She sighed and went to curl up in the over-stuffed chair before the fire. She wished he hadn’t left, and she hoped he’d return soon. She’d grown to enjoy being in his presence. She’d grown to enjoy even more than that. She simply needed to find a way to show him.
Vincent opened his mouth to issue another strong reprimand, then realized she was asleep. He closed the door—the door she had again failed to lock—and quietly moved across the room to the bed. The gowns he had purchased still lay where he’d left them, and he gathered them up to deposit them in a heap on the floor. He pulled back the quilts, his hands trembling with excitement, despite the amount of alcohol he’d managed to consume in the last hour.
He’d needed a drink ever since he’d pulled her from that tub, naked and wet and incredibly soft. It was either drink, to dull his desires, or take her with haste and with force, if necessary.
A soft moan caught his attention. She shifted in the chair and her peignoir rode up, exposing long, lovely legs. He stared at that creamy expanse of flesh as he hastily removed his shirt, then crossed to scoop her up in his arms.
“What? Oh, milord, I’m sorry.” She yawned in his face and wrapped her arms about his neck in a most unselfconscious manner. “I must have fallen asleep.”
“You did.” He deposited her on the bed. “You did not lock the door, either.”
Bridgett frowned and shook her head. “I’m a terrible trial to you, I know, but I promise to try harder to please you.”
“Move over so that I can lie down.” Vincent tried to ignore the way her breasts pressed enticingly against the neckline of her gown.
“Here? You mean to sleep with me?”
“You wish to please me?” He waited for her nod. “Then move over. Now.”
She scooted across the bed until she lay at the far edge. Vincent crawled beneath the blankets, then reached for her, pulling her close. She did not fight him, but she felt stiff as a board within the circle of his arms.
“Bridgett, have you ever lain with a man?” He watched her closely, knowing the answer from the way she blanched and averted her eyes. Still, when she didn’t reply, he pressed her. “Have you ever taken a man’s cock between your legs? Had him sink into your liquid depths and impale you on his hard shaft?”
He could feel her heart beating fast where their bodies met. From fear, or from excitement? She shifted and he turned her to face him, so he could see the expression in her eyes.
“Answer me, Bridgett. Have you ever had a man?”
“I…No, milord,” she whispered.
He smiled. “Good. Very good. It is time to begin your training in earnest, bella mia.”
“My training?” Her brow wrinkled in a frown.
“A man has needs, Bridgett, that only a woman can fulfill.” He stroked her arm with feather-light caresses as he spoke. “I will teach you how to fulfill my needs.”
“How do you know I will be able to do so, milord?”
The innocence of the question nearly disrupted him from his carefully planned course of seduction, but he hardened his resolve. If he had not taken her, if he did not ta
ke her, someone else would.
“No more talking. You are here to serve me, not plague me with your silly questions. You must be perfectly obedient, and follow each of my commands. Do you understand?”
She nodded, and he offered her a smile to ease the sting of his words.
“Good.” He raised himself up on one arm and moved her until she lay on her back beneath him. “I’m going to remove your gown. Lie still. I won’t hurt you, but I must touch you.”
He slid the straps of the nightdress down over her shoulders and pushed the silk past her breasts until it pooled about her hips. Her breathing grew heavy, but she did not move as he gazed at her large, firm breasts. His cock strained against the front of his breeches and he pressed against her thigh.
“Your breasts are made for a man’s touch,” he whispered. He brushed her nipple with his finger and it hardened at his touch. She whimpered softly and his pulse quickened at the sound of her response. He lowered his head and drew the tight nub into his mouth, sucking it deeply, flicking the tip with his tongue.
Bridgett moved beneath him, arching her back, entwining her fingers in his hair, and pulling him close. He moved from one breast to the other, moaning against the softness of her flesh.
“Do you like that?” he asked. “Tell me what you feel.”
She tightened her hold on his hair and rolled her head on the pillow. “I feel…I want…I don’t know!”
He chuckled and pushed her gown further, down over her hips and legs. “I know you don’t, bella mia, but I do. I know everything you want, everything you need, every deep, dark secret that’s buried in your soul.”
He pulled back and got to his knees.
“Would you like me to show you what it is you desire, Bridgett?” His hands moved to the buttons of his breeches and he unhooked them in one quick motion. “Do you want me to tell you what you need?”
Her eyes grew wide, but she remained silent, watching him with a curious look on her face.
He pulled his erect penis from his trousers and held it in his fist. “This is what you need, bella mia. This will ease the ache that is building within you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How? Tell me why women seem to desire these things.”
“What do you know of a woman’s desires?” He watched her expression in the firelight. Her brow creased into a frown, and she seemed to ponder his question.
“Very little, milord, only what you have managed to show me in the last two days, but I am curious to learn.”
“You are not frightened?”
“You have given me no cause to fear you. Nothing I have experienced so far has been unpleasant.” She paused. “May I ask you one more question?”
Vincent ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He didn’t want to talk, but he knew that he’d fired her curiosity, had done it on purpose, and must continue with this charade of gentle seduction.
“What is it?” It came out harsher than he intended.
“You say I am to serve you, but I will not be a servant. You tell me I will take care of your needs, but you have not told me how. If I am to please you, I must know what you expect of me.”
Vincent muttered a curse beneath his breath. Apparently his little virgin had come much further along the path to sexual awareness than he’d thought. Could she handle the truth of what her future held? He’d simply intended to lead her to it, without benefit of explanation, but perhaps things would progress smoother if she knew her position.
He stretched out beside her and pulled her against his chest, molding her body to fit his own.
“How will you serve me, bella mia?” He ran his tongue along her jaw and she shivered in his arms.
“You will give me free access to your glorious body.” He nibbled at her earlobe.
“You will take my cock inside you. Inside your vagina, your mouth, wherever and whenever it pleases me.” He pressed his hardness against her thigh for emphasis.
“In short, little one, you will serve my every sexual whim.” He pulled back to see her reaction to his words.
She gazed at him steadily. “You will teach me these things?”
Vincent nodded. “I will teach you everything you need to know.”
“And you will not hurt me?” She pinned him with her eyes.
“I will not lie to you, Bridgett. It will hurt the first time I take you, but after that there will be no more pain.”
She seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded. “I understand. I wish to learn to please you, milord.”
He did not tell her that it would not have mattered.
He lowered his head and kissed her lightly, nibbling at the corners of her mouth and teasing the seam of her lips with his tongue.
“Open for me,” he whispered.
Bridgett sighed, her breath scorching his face, and he dipped his tongue into the source of that heat. He felt her move against him, and he deepened the kiss, groaning at her first tentative response.
He ran his hands down her back and cupped her buttocks, pulling her closer. She met his movements by pressing her hips forward, and his engorged penis throbbed painfully. It reminded him of his purpose. Of his need.
Breaking the kiss that had stolen his breath and dulled his senses, he pulled away to lie on his back, drawing her to lie against him.
“It is time for your first lesson.” His voice was thick. “You must learn to pleasure me.”
“Yes milord.” She sounded uncertain.
Vincent took her hand and slid it down. “Take my cock in your fist.”
His penis jumped as she brushed its length.
“Take it in your hand.”
She wrapped her fingers around the shaft, and he placed his hand over her own.
“Now move,” he could barely speak, “like this.”
She followed his lead, and he squeezed her hand, silently indicating for her to hold him tighter.
“That’s it.” He bucked his hips.
“This pleases you?” Bridgett’s breath came hot against his chest.
“Yes, bella mia, it pleases me.” He reached for her breast and gently pinched a nipple. “Move your hand faster.”
He groaned against the softness of her hair and lifted his body to meet each downward stroke. He was half-aware of the increase in her breathing, of her shifting to lean over his chest, her breasts caressing his flesh. When her mouth touched his tight nipple, he gasped and pulled her close, giving a guttural cry as his orgasm shook him.
Awareness returned slowly. The warmth of her skin as she lay in his arms. The softness of her breasts against his side. The lightness of her breath against his chest.
“It didn’t hurt.”
Vincent sighed and wrapped his arm about her shoulder to pull her up to face him. Her hair hung about them like a curtain of gold, and he brushed it back so he could see her eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
“It did not hurt. You said it would…the first time.” A blush rose in her cheeks.
“I did not take you, bella mia,” he told her. “The first time I put my cock inside you, you will feel pain because you are virgin.”
His penis twitched at his words.
“Will you take me tonight?”
Vincent caught his breath. His blood fired anew with lust, but he forced it back. “No, little one, I will not take you tonight. This was only your first lesson. We have many more before we reach the stage where I will take your virginity.”
She frowned, and he nearly laughed when he read the disappointment on her face. In only two days, he’d managed to awaken her to a lust that would drive her to fulfill his intent. He pulled her down to lie beside him.
“Go to sleep,” he told her, and smiled when she heaved a sigh of what could only be interpreted as frustration.
By the time he was through with her training, she would be a slave to her own passion.
Chapter Five
“Have we much further to travel?” Bridgett tugged at the low ne
ckline of her gown for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning, and glanced about the small clearing.
The Count finished chewing a bit of biscuit, then tossed the remainder into the bushes. “Only another few hours. Are you tired?”
“No, though my backside feels as if I’ve been whipped with a cane.” She stood and rubbed the offending area through the thickness of her skirts. “I’m not used to sitting a horse for so long.”
He stared at her for a moment, and she noticed he dropped his gaze to watch the motion of her hands. Her heartbeat quickened and her stomach muscles contracted. The way he looked at her caused her legs to grow weak.
“Will you tell me about my next lesson, milord?” She blanched and quickly looked away. What was she thinking? But that was just it, all morning she’d done nothing but think. Something had happened to her last night, something profound and inexplicable. Every time she looked at him she felt…hungry.
The Count stood and crossed the clearing to pick up Tempest’s reins.
“No. I will not.”
He did not turn around to answer her, and she bit her lip in consternation. She’d irritated him again, though she certainly hadn’t meant to do so.
“Thank you for the beautiful gowns, milord.” She made an effort to appease him. “They are the loveliest I’ve ever owned.”
This earned her a slight smile, and she brushed at the skirt self-consciously as he swept her with his gaze.
“Red suits you, bella mia,” he said, “and the dress is an excellent fit.”
Bridgett glanced down at the bright red velvet and nodded her agreement. “I fear it’s a bit low in the bodice, but other than that, it is perfect.”
She was surprised to see him flush and turn away.
“The cut is in style,” he told her. “Shall we go?”
“Yes, milord.” She crossed to join him beside the horse. “I am anxious to get home.”
“There it is.” Vincent nudged her to gain her attention, and nodded in the direction of a large stone castle in the distance. For some reason, he was anxious to get her reaction, and he held his breath, awaiting her reply.
