The Devil's Submission (Fallen series)

by Nicola Davidson

  Moaning, the gentleman pressed his face between Charlotte’s legs, eagerly lapping her pussy and professing his thanks over and over.

  Stumbling to her feet, her own pussy so wet and throbbing she could scarcely bear it, Eliza raised her hand in farewell. The other woman smiled knowingly and waved her away.

  Back in the hallway, Eliza slumped against the cool wall, her heart pounding. The thought had been there for a while, and only strengthened this morning in the office with Grayson. But after that erotic demonstration, she knew without a doubt that false, timid, proper Eliza could never exist again.

  For Grayson’s fulfillment, she would gift him the pain-infused pleasure he needed.

  And in turn, she would finally be free.

  Chapter Six

  Construction for the Midsummer Night festivities was progressing beautifully. But even the secondary ballroom—usually the home of the pirate ship—being transformed into an enchanted forest couldn’t improve his mood.

  Devil inhaled heavily, trying not to notice how the red, orange, and gold silk-draped wood pretending to be a bonfire resembled Eliza’s hair. How the silver urns reminded him of the flecks in her eyes. And he failed utterly.

  His wife had listened all too well when he’d stupidly turned away from her comfort and told her to leave. He’d barely seen her for days, not even in his office, and any moment he expected her to announce the next carriage outing would be her returning to Lincolnshire permanently.

  “Dev. Dev!” bellowed Vice from behind him. “You have a visitor, thank God, so you can get the fuck out from under my feet.”

  “In my office?”

  “No. The harem says that room needs a thorough scrubbing, so Sin has made his private parlor available.”

  Devil frowned but turned and left the ballroom. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, and no suppliers had made appointments to see him. Curiosity overwhelmed, he almost ran to Sin’s parlor, just remembering to slow down and walk through the door like someone who still possessed all their faculties.

  “Hello, Gray.”

  Shock froze him to the spot, and he could only stare as his once-beloved older brother Peter, Viscount Upton, hesitantly approached him. Eventually he found his tongue. “What…what are you doing here?”

  “Your wife arrived on my doorstep and insisted I accompany her back here,” said Peter, his voice oddly hoarse, and his face strained. “I thought she might shoot me if I did not. Fiery little baggage, isn’t she?”

  A boulder lodged in his throat. Eliza had done this? “Yes. Yes she is. I’m not sure—”

  “I invited Lord Upton,” said a brisk voice to his right, “because it is long past time you spoke.”

  Devil turned, drinking in the welcome sight of Eliza. She was here. She hadn’t left him. And she had brought him a gift beyond price.

  Taking a moment to compose himself, he looked again at Peter. His brother remained taller and broader, but the Deveraux black hair was there in abundance, and Deveraux green eyes stared back at him with equal hesitancy and intense study. “I see.”

  “I’m very glad she did, Gray,” said Peter. “So perhaps we could talk for a bit and I could beg your forgiveness.”

  “For what?” he replied slowly, resisting the urge to pinch himself at this miracle taking place. “You weren’t even here when Reyburn disowned me. You were traveling the continent.”

  “That’s no excuse,” snapped his brother, pressing his fist to his mouth for a long moment before continuing. “What he did…Christ. When I found out, I hated him so much. But you’d gone, and I didn’t know where. Nobody knew. And then you surfaced again, with this place. I wanted to come and see you, but I was too ashamed. As for your wedding, I will never forgive myself for refusing your invitation. I wanted to come. But bloody Reyburn said he would have me press-ganged into the Navy if I did…and I was too damned cowardly to stand against him.”

  “Upton—”

  “Peter. I’m just Peter to you.”

  Devil closed his eyes. “I missed you. So much. But I wasn’t fit for the likes of you. You’ve always been the better man. Angel to my Devil.”

  “Horseshit. You’re my brother. You always have been, and you always will be.”

  He blinked, his eyes burning. “Reyburn won’t like it.”

  “Reyburn can shove a hot poker up his arse. He can shove his title up there, too. Not that it is worth much anymore, the damned bastard is near bankrupt. I don’t even know what I’m going to do with the estates. Sell the unentailed ones, I guess, but I’m lumped with the rest. A most attractive package for a prospective bride, a penniless title and failing properties.”

  “So you’re not married?” said Eliza. “I forgot to ask before.”

  Peter sighed. “No. I’ll have to find an heiress. They’ll be lining up for miles now, especially with me as part of the deal.”

  “Can’t see why you would be a problem, Peter,” said Devil, frowning.

  His brother suddenly grinned, a wicked, mischievous memory straight from their childhood. “As it turns out, little brother, you are not the only Deveraux with, ah, tastes other than the norm. I adore the ladies, but sometimes I, um, rather enjoy the company of a man as well. I’m planning to tell Reyburn and his cronies at the next ball he hosts.”

  Amusement welled, and soon Devil couldn’t hold it in. Rocking on his feet, his whole body shaking and tears running down his cheeks, he laughed until his stomach hurt. Peter clapped him on the back, he returned the gesture, and it turned into a hug—for one long, glorious moment time wound back and they were Pete and Gray again, two brothers against the world as they held each other tightly and mourned their lost years.

  Finally, he stepped back. “You must join Fallen. You’ll meet all sorts of likeminded men and women, and as a bonus, the news might finish Reyburn off.”

  Eliza snorted, her own eyes suspiciously bright. “What Grayson means is that you are always welcome here, Lord Upton. Would you care for tea?”

  Peter’s shoulders slumped. “On another occasion, I would like nothing more. But alas today, I have a meeting with my bankers that I cannot miss. I have asked for the truth about my finances, and I am very much afraid they are going to give it to me. But, best to know the ground before you build the castle, correct?”

  “If you need funds,” said Devil, “I’d be happy to—”

  “Very kind, but no thank you. Just have the brandy ready next time. A special bottle, about three feet tall.”

  “Right you are,” he replied, holding out his hand. Peter shook it firmly, clapped him again on the shoulder, then strode from the parlor.

  Incredulous, he blinked at Eliza. “Did that just happen?”

  She smiled hesitantly. “It did. I hope you aren’t angry at me for interfering, but Charlotte said your brother was a decent man, and he really does seem to be one.”

  “Wait a minute. Excuse me? You were talking to Charlie?”

  Eliza’s gaze locked on his, her cheeks turning pink. “Another decent person who loves you. You aren’t alone, Grayson, even if it sometimes feels like you are. And damn it, you can’t keep shoving people away so you won’t be hurt again. That shoves away the potential happiness, as well.”

  Rubbing his jaw to buy a moment, Devil swallowed hard. “It was so good to see Peter. Thank you for doing that for me. I wish there was something I could do for you. Not your family, but you.”

  “There is.”

  “Name it, and it is yours. There is still time to go to Mayfair if you want to shop. Gowns, jewels, slippers, bonnets, whatever you want.”

  “Bah. Not interested. What I want is something infinitely more rewarding.”

  Devil considered. “A trip? Vienna is lovely this time of year. Or Rome.”

  She took a deep breath, her shoulders straightening, like she was preparing for battle. “Actually, what I want is you. Upstairs, naked, and bent over. You require discipline, Grayson, and I have a brand new cane I am eager to try out.”


  All the air whooshed from his lungs. “I beg your pardon?”

  His ears had to be deceiving him. His wife had not just oh-so-casually said she wished to use a cane on him, had she?

  “You heard me,” she said in a steely voice. Then she circled him, one hand caressing his backside, and he groaned, shuddering in anticipation as his cock hardened to stone. “Upstairs. Now.”

  …

  The leather of the corset was surprisingly soft and sensual against her skin, and the built-in stays cupped and pushed her breasts high, her nipples barely covered by the bodice. Her legs were bare, and she wore heeled slippers on her feet.

  All in all, she felt very seductive. Powerful. Free.

  Strolling out of the antechamber and into the main room, new slender cane in hand, Eliza paused to enjoy the sight of her naked husband on the four-poster bed. At the present time he lay flat on his stomach, his chin resting on his forearms, but as soon as she cleared her throat, he went straight up onto his hands and knees.

  “Eliza,” he breathed, his green eyes glowing. “You look magnificent.”

  The compliment warmed her to her toes, but this insubordination simply wouldn’t do.

  Twirling the cane with a flick of her wrist, she slapped it hard on the bed a mere inch from his hand. “You may refer to me as…Lizzie. Now, get off the bed. I want you standing next to it, your hands braced on the left side post.”

  A less keen observer might have missed the quiver of excitement he couldn’t quite suppress as he quickly obeyed her instruction. But he couldn’t hide the reaction of his cock; it was already hugely swollen and bobbing against his flat belly. “Yes, Lizzie.”

  “And what is your word if you wish me to stop?”

  Grayson stared at her in astonishment. Then as understanding dawned, with such love and overwhelming tenderness, she swallowed a lump in her throat. “Fire. Like the most wonderful woman in the world.”

  “Very well. But before we begin, there is one more thing I must do.”

  Smiling to herself, she reached into her bodice and pulled out the fifteen thousand pound bank draft he had written.

  And she tore it to pieces.

  “Lizzie! But…”

  “This is not about money, Grayson. It is about pleasure. Happiness. Me being me, and you being you, and both of us being proud of it. Do you understand?”

  He swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am. I’m…I’m getting there.”

  Nodding in approval, Eliza reached out and trailed the end of the cane along his skin. Slowly, gently, up and down, around in a circle, teasing his hair-roughened thighs and forearms, his smooth, muscled back. Without warning she struck, one quick, sharp blow across the back of his thigh.

  He gasped. “Yes.”

  Again and again she stroked him with the cane then hit, varying the spot—his shoulder, forearm, thighs with pale pink marks, never settling into a rhythm or pace, keeping him on the edge but not touching him where he wanted it most. “Are you all right, Grayson?”

  Her husband moaned. “Please don’t stop.”

  “Does your cock hurt? It looks very, very hard. So full of come. What would you give to have me take that in my mouth? To thrust it deep into my wet pussy?”

  “Anything.”

  Flicking her wrist as Charlotte had taught her in their sessions, Eliza brought the cane down hard on his backside, leaving a red imprint. “Please don’t stop, Lizzie. Anything, Lizzie.”

  Grayson jerked, his breathing deliciously ragged. “Forgive me, Lizzie. I wasn’t thinking. Only feeling. It’s so damned good. I’ve never been harder in my life…ah Christ.”

  “You like it there, don’t you? Right on that fleshy curve of your backside. Two lovely red patches,” she mused, admiring her handiwork and crouching down to kiss each mark. He writhed under her touch, but when she gently parted his flesh and licked the puckered opening of his back entrance, he nearly crushed the bedpost with his grip. Well. Charlotte certainly did know everything.

  “Fuck,” he swore, roughly. “I’m going to come, Lizzie. If you do that again, I’ll come all over the quilt.”

  “I think not,” she said sternly, glad he couldn’t see her teary smile. “You are not allowed to come. Not until I say so. Understand?”

  “Yes, Lizzie. I…fuck. Christ.”

  Eliza tsked. “Such language in front of your innocent, prim and proper wife. All I did was stroke your balls and cock with my hand. But you were telling me the truth. Your cockhead is already slick with moisture. And yet I’m not done.”

  Swish. Crack. Swish. Crack.

  The two swift, harsh blows almost landed on top of each other, raising faint welts on the firm flesh of his backside. Grayson cried out her name in a sobbing, guttural voice, his whole body shaking as he visibly fought to remain upright and not slump against the post or onto the bed, to give his cock that last little bit of direct stimulation it needed to push him over the edge into orgasm.

  If she were honest, the feeling was mutual. Her nipples were so rigid and swollen the soft leather felt like sack cloth, and her pussy was so wet juices were gathering in the red curls guarding her mound and trickling down her inner thighs.

  “Please, Lizzie,” he whispered. “Please, darling, please let me come.”

  Nudging his shoulder, she made him turn around and look at her. His face was damp with sweat, his cheeks flushed, his eyes pure emerald fire, burning with need and violent arousal and adoration. “No. You must earn your orgasm, my love, and attend to my breasts and pussy.”

  Eliza lay down on the bed, cupping her breasts in her hands, and spreading her thighs. Eagerly, he knelt between them, tugging down the top of the corset until her taut nipples popped out, taking them into his hot mouth and sucking hard. She whimpered, squirming on the soft quilt, knowing in absolute delight that he wouldn’t stop unless she instructed it.

  When her nipples were stimulated to that perfect point just below pain, she touched his forehead. Grayson moaned, scrambling farther down the bed so he could have direct access to her soaking wet pussy. Burying his face between her legs, he licked her slit, lapped at her clit, then shoved his tongue deep inside her. At one point he even mimicked her action and rubbed his tongue over her back entrance, making her shout his name as jolts of ecstasy raced from one acute pleasure point to the next.

  But she couldn’t wait any longer. Again, she touched his forehead, and he halted.

  “Lizzie?”

  “I want you. Now,” she said throatily. “Hard and deep.”

  Grayson nodded, his smile an endearing mixture of lust and love and pure relief. Carefully, he fitted his cock to her pussy entrance, paused for the tiniest moment, then thrust home.

  “Yes. More. Give me more,” she cried, wrapping her legs around his waist, one hand on his shoulder and one threaded through his hair, gripping and scratching and tugging him as he plunged and withdrew over and over, gasping her name like a prayer.

  All too soon her inner muscles tightened, clamping down on his cock as she reached the edge and hurtled over it, screaming and screaming as the most violent, prolonged climax of her life surged through her body. Seconds later he joined her, bucking and writhing as he came, long, hard gushes of seed filling her to overflowing.

  He collapsed on top of her and she welcomed his weight and bulk, stroking his neck and crooning nonsense words of appreciation and praise in his ear.

  Eventually he lifted his head, blinking at her like he’d finally woken from the longest sleep. “Eliza. That was…my God. How did you know?”

  If she’d had the energy, she might have laughed. “Education is key. I took lessons.”

  “Lessons in using a cane?”

  “Amongst other things.”

  Grayson reached up and stroked the backs of his fingers against her cheek. “You must care for me a great deal to do this. To change.”

  “I love you more than anything in the world, and always will. But I’m not changing. I’m discovering. As I said before,
when I am my true self, you can be your true self, and we are both happy. We are both free. Well, I’m nearly free…” Eliza finished awkwardly.

  “Are you thinking of your mother?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Papa, or the academy and its teachers and students. But if you write Mother another blasted bank draft, she wins easily.”

  He grinned, his eyes suddenly alight with wickedness. “Eliza Jean Brimley Deveraux. Surely you know that nothing with me and money is ever easy. Naturally a sum of fifteen thousand pounds comes with certain non-negotiable conditions.”

  Laughter bubbled. “Such as?”

  “Whatever you see fit to impose. I bow to you in all things…as will your dear mother.”

  Eliza stared at him, joy unfurling in her heart at the resolute support to take control of her own life. “I’d like for you to accompany me to the academy, then.”

  “That, my darling, beloved Lizzie, is a show I wouldn’t miss for the world.”

  …

  The Brimley Finishing Academy was a stately property, one large central building, two smaller wings on either side, and a lovely landscaped garden in the front. But as their carriage moved down the gravel driveway, Eliza truly regretted her lack of brandy on the journey with Grayson and Lord Upton. After all the talking, this was the day of action. And she didn’t know if she had the courage to face down her mother once and for all.

  Grayson cleared his throat. “You know, Eliza, that signage is most impressive. Delightful, Decorous, and Demure in preparation for excellent marriages? The academy is not getting just reward for its contribution to the fabric of English society.”

  She sniffed, her lips twitching at his effort to distract her. “Oh, hush up. That foolish philosophy will be the first to go.”

  “So what will it be, then? Saucy, Sinful, and Seductive? You’ll have gentlemen beating down the door for such a wife…” he replied, his words trailing off in a look of tender bliss as she discreetly pinched him.

  Gracious, that was the least of what she’d done to Grayson throughout the night. She’d had him again and again, most recently when the sun rose and spilled orange light into their bedchamber. Her new favorite toy, the cane, was well broken in. As were the lengths of satin she’d used to restrain his wrists, and the delightful solid gold miniature balls she’d tried for herself. She ached all over; Grayson’s skin was a tapestry of faint marks and scratches. But the haunted look had left his eyes, the tension released from his shoulders. He had found peace, and in turn, so had she.