My Lady Series Bundle (1-5)

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My Lady Series Bundle (1-5) Page 10

by Anders, Shirl


  Chapter Twenty One

  Gabriella felt nearly human again an hour later, after a long bath and wrapped in one of the Carlton Hotel's fluffy oversized robes, and twice as foolish over what she had done. Then, she walked out of the large ornate bathing chamber, and right into Reginald! Reginald?

  "Oh, my god!" Gabriella exclaimed, and she would have stumbled backwards, away from Reginald, had he not grabbed her upper arms. "W-What are you doing here?" Gabriella finished in a stunned shriek.

  "Of all the luck," Reginald slurred. He was drunk! "To find me wife waiting for me. Ah-."

  Gabriella pushed Reginald hard and he stumbled backward finding the wall, as she edged further away from him. Further into the room. "I am not waiting for you, Reginald! This is my room and I want you gone from here!" Gabriella paused, expelling a nervous breath as she watched Reginald unsuccessfully trying to tug down his atrocious green and yellow striped vest that reeked of perfume. Then, Gabriella cried, "I do not know how or why you are here, Reginald, but you must leave immediately!"

  "Oh, no, no," Reginald, slurred, "Tis fate. You want me." He stumbled. "And, came to me. The very same hotel. I found out when I came in."

  So that was how, Gabriella thought, wondering at the luck of picking the very same hotel where her husband was staying. He must have mentioned the hotel to her sometime in passing for her to even think of the name and he must be quite serious about the lawyers not allowing him into Lyndfall. Or should she say her home, as obviously now appeared to be the case. However, none of this explained how Reginald had gotten the key to this room! And, the very persistent fact that this seemed ominously reminiscent of the past was enough to give Gabriella a healthy shiver of apprehension.

  Ohno! Reginald was tromping toward her! Gabriella drew away, backing up immediately, only that left her further into the room with no way out.

  "Reginald, you must leave," she ordered sharply, holding out her hands as if to ward him away, which she desperately wished to do. "You-You, must not be here w-when Drummond returns!" That was it! A perfect lie, only now Gabriella saw that Reginald was shaking his head with an over bright leer in his eyes.

  "He's not here, I asked!" Reginald sneered.

  "R-Reginald, you must remember that you do not want me! You sold me . . . remember!" Gabriella tried anxiously, wondering what happened at the Carlton Hotel when a woman screamed, because she was going to this time.

  Reginald suddenly lunged at her, and it was then that Gabriella realized how very close the bed was behind her retreat. She landed on it hard with Reginald's heavy and breath-snatching weight on top of her. She tried to catch her breath and did beat on Reginald's shoulders as he levered himself on top of her trying to wedge her knees open!

  "I want an annulment!" Gabriella screamed. "An annulment, do you hear me!"

  "No!" Reginald snarled, grabbing at her flaying hands, pushing them aside. He clutched the edges of her robe and wrenched the top open. Gabriella screamed then, shrilly and with terror, but it did not stop Reginald. "You are going to give me what you gave Kittridge!" Reginald thundered.

  Gabriella struggled, tossing her body from side to side, because her arms were caught helplessly in the robe sleeves. She thought frantically to somehow unbalance Reginald. Anything to get away! She would not let this happen again. She would not!

  "No-noo," Gabriella screamed as Reginald used one hand to grope her breast roughly, while he tried to kiss her, which she avoided by frantic twists of her head. Gabriella could feel Reginald fumbling with the buttons of his pants!

  "You are my wife! And you will submit!" Reginald snarled in a horrific slobber over her lips.

  Gabriella's mind splintered then, it was all happening just as it had twenty-five years before and there was no one to stop Reginald, just as there had been no one before. Except herself! Embolden, angry, and more defiant then she had been in her entire life, Gabriella groped down between their twisting bodies, and then she nearly laughed hysterically when Reginald thought she meant to stroke his cock.

  "Owww! Oww!" Reginald suddenly screeched, and then he lunged to the side as Gabriella continued to viciously scratch his balls with her long fingernails. "Owwww, you bitch!"

  Gabriella rolled off the other side of the bed, paying no attention to her dishabille, as she grabbed the foot long candlestick from the night stand. The candle fell to the floor as she went after Reginald with a furious screech of her own! She caught Reginald at the end of the bed, where he was still partially bent over, clutching his balls.

  "I hate you!" Gabriella screamed, and without an inch of remorse she swung the candlestick underhanded, toppling Reginald over onto the royal blue Aubusson rug where he rolled into a fetal position.

  "No no," he groaned.

  "Reginald Horatio St. John!" Gabriella screamed as she pulled back from her underhanded swing, readying for another attack. "I will dismember your cock from between your bloody legs if you do not give me an annulment this minute!"

  "No-no!" Reginald screeched.

  "No!" Gabriella cried shrilly as she started to swing the candlestick forward with all her might only to be stopped by arms grappling her from behind. It was then she heard a masculine voice yelling at her.

  "Lady St. John— Madame!"

  Gabriella was too incensed to care that it was Drummond's son, Samuel, who grappled her arms from behind. She unwittingly struggled with the effort to strike her husband once more while Reginald lay, curled into a ball, weeping on the floor.

  "Let me go, Samuel!" Gabriella huffed in a shriek. "Just let me bloody his balls!"

  Samuel only grunted behind her as he lifted her. Her churning feet came up off the ground as he began a stumbling backwards gait. "My lady, you are magnificent, but I cannot allow my father's future wife to do mayhem!"

  Drummond's running stride came to a halt at the open door to the room, where he immediately saw a bare-breasted Gabriella struggling to be released from his son's arms about her waist. Samuel tried to cart the lady backwards, from her apparent wish to clobber her husband, yet again.

  Drummond's labored breathing strained through his lungs. He had run from the lobby. Hell, he had run a horse near to death from his estate to get here, and while running down the hallway he had heard his charming lady-love screeching about bloodying Lord St. John's balls, of all things. The worry inside him had been wound so tight, he simply could not help it, not after seeing Gabriella was safe. He started to laugh! Nay, he started to roar!

  "Father, really," Samuel groaned. "Can't you help me here?"

  Drummond bent over at the waist, and laughed harder.

  "I will give her the annulment, I swear!" Reginald cried. "Just don't let her damage my balls!"

  Drummond nearly choked as his laughing increased.

  "Drummond, is that you, Drummond? Are you laughing at me?" Gabriella cried indignantly.

  Drummond could not see clearly through the tears filming his eyes as he waved his hand in their general direction. He had missed Samuel at their London house by only a few minutes after the message from Bebington had come and Samuel had left immediately for the Carlton. Samuel managed to get here first without the knowledge that his father was directly behind him riding hell bent to London chasing his lady love. My god he would secure his driver Bebington's retirement by what he would pay him in thanks for leaving word at his London home of where Gabriella was.

  "So this is what it is like to be in love," Harrison said appearing beside Drummond. "Reduces fine men to tears, m'lord," he finished with a sublime sneer.

  "What," Drummond straightened and tried to catch his breath. "What are you doing here?"

  "Following the malefactor of course," Harrison drawled in a rasp with his dark-eyed gaze playing over the scene.

  "Of course," Drummond replied regaining most of his composure. "Then you should not mind hauling St. John out of here." Drummond turned his gaze to Gabriella who had fixed her robe snugly back around herself, while she literally glared at her husband
who was still whimpering in a bundle on the floor. "And, make certain that he gives you written agreement to the annulment that his wife has battered out of him."

  Harrison actually grinned, saying in a whisper, "Dismembered cock . . . did you teach her that, Drummond?"

  Drummond casually grabbed his side to keep from laughing again, as he badly stuttered, "No-no, not me." Then, he said in an aside, "I'm not sure he can walk."

  They both nearly burst out laughing again, as Harrison murmured, "Protect your crotch, old man."

  "Oh god, Harrison," Drummond huffed, trying not to laugh as he watched Harrison go and retrieve St. John with Samuel's help. It was then Gabriella came running up to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

  "Oh, Drummond, I never should have left you!"

  Chapter Twenty Two

  A Wedding Night . . .

  "You owe me many boons, my lord," Gabriella said with a throaty purr of satisfaction as she eyed her muscular captive. The twin sinewy mounds of Drummond's tight naked buttocks filled her gaze as she decided that her dainty hand could not possibly smack those muscled rumps hard enough to make them sting — certainly she would hurt her hand!

  "While I am enthralled to be tied to the bed for your pleasure, kitten . . . and I might add, the sum total of all boons I owe to you. I still wonder why you would position me face down, wife?"

  "Husband, do we have a riding quirt anywhere in this bedchamber?"

  Drummond jerked his head to the side to gaze at Gabriella. She was completely not listening to him, he could see, as his mind jolted over the reason his new bride had swindled him into this helpless position. Ye gads, the woman intended to swat his naked...

  Instantly, Drummond's bare buttocks tensed in reaction as he swiveled his head to watch Gabriella searching the room for a... Quirt? Drummond flexed his bound wrists, testing them. No, he was tied securely, just as he had allowed himself to be. Champagne! He had drunk an entire bottle with Gabriella at their wedding dinner — shit!

  "Kitten? Hmm, are you going to spank me?" Drummond asked in a rumbling tenor. A man needed to keep his voice commanding in a situation such as this. Didn't he? Hell, he didn't know. He flexed his wrists again.

  "Yes, amour," Gabriella called with a muffled sound, because she was rummaging through his clothing closet. "And, do you know, Drummond?" Her head popped out of the closet. "I feel syrupy all over just thinking about it. Is that how you feel when you contemplate spanking me?"

  I am doomed, Drummond thought as he dropped his nose, poof, onto the mattress, where he mumbled an incoherent response.

  "I thought so," Gabriella called happily from inside the clothing closet, where he could hear her rummaging around and where, devil take him, he knew of three . . . count them, three riding quirts to be had! Drummond began to pray foolishly that she would pick the short brown one, because it looked much less threatening to him than the others. Didn't it?

  Then, Drummond started to think over the two times in the months before their marriage this afternoon, when he had playfully spanked his lady-light. However, it was that first time, the one in the very beginning that really worried him. He bounced his forehead off the mattress a couple of times, vowing never — never, to drink champagne again, even if it was with his beautiful and blushing bride...

  "Found it."

  Drummond's head jerked upward. Ah, Christ, it was the long black one! He watched Gabriella sauntering closer with a vexing hip swinging motion that was all woman. It did not help one bit that she was completely nude down to her shaven pussy with his glossy passion pearl bouncing off her luscious pink pussy lips. And damnation, Gabriella was fondling the black knobbed riding crop as if it were an impassioned cock! Drummond tensed more from his erectile cock beneath him, than from anything else. Christ, she was beautiful . . . and he recited in his mind, she was his, all his!

  Gabriella wondered whether she really ought to complete the actual spanking of her husband's very tight and virile buttocks. He was so exciting tied there to the bed with the roped muscles of his back drawn upward by his arms stretched over his head and with his gaze trapping hers with predatory intent. A gaze that promised retribution once she released him. Gabriella sighed headily . . . sensually as she toyed with the riding quirt, watching Drummond very slowly and very deliberately lick his full bottom lip, while he gazed at her completely shaved loins.

  "You are going to reap your revenge on me if I do this, amour, aren't you?"

  "Hmm," Drummond murmured. Then, he twisted his arms across each other, allowing him to roll over onto his back. "I was, kitten. However-."

  "However, what amour?" she purred, completely transfixed as the quirt fell heedless to the floor and her gaze filled with the sight of Drummond's engorged erection. His cock was massive with a ruddy pink coloring and strident veins swelled along its jutting length. The entire male column bucked in reaction to her climbing up on the bed.

  "I have resolved, madame, that I am yours to do with as you please. Just as you are mine to do the same," he replied as he intently watched her tongue dart outward to lick his nipple, then circle it slowly.

  Gabriella felt Drummond shiver beneath her tongue as she smiled and murmured against the tight pebble. "Very brave for a man tied by his wrists to my bed."

  "Our bed," Drummond puffed in a tenor rumble as Gabriella nipped his taut nipple between her teeth. Her hands spread outward over the hilly muscular slopes of his chest and he finally groaned in excited pleasure.

  "Our bed," she murmured in agreement, crawling over him with one leg on each side, to ride her bared loins against his lean rippling belly. The sprinkling of hair on his stomach feathered her sex erotically as she purred a moan, rising upward to brace her hands on the mountains of his breastplate. She could feel his cock's rigidness, poking along the crease of her behind.

  Drummond felt his eyes dilate in sexual hunger as he lifted his head. "Give me your nipple, Gabriella. Let me suckle you."

  "Oh, Drummond," Gabriella sighed throatily as she fell slightly forward with her hands supported on the mattress above his shoulders. Her back was arched, thrusting her exuberant pink and cream breasts at him. She undulated her sexy and dewy-hot pussy over his navel, while he took her fragile, yet stiff nipple between his lips with a longing groan of his own.

  "Amour-Amour," she cried in reaction to the toying pluck he repeated over the tight swollen peak.

  "More," he demanded, sucking the entire pink areola between his heated lips.

  "Ohh, my amour," Gabriella purred gustily, as she sinuously rode his belly, while he devoured her pillowed breasts back and forth, one by one, until she was crying passionate cants deep in her throat.

  He was hot. No, more correctly he was wild. The fact that he was tied was heating him in some unfathomable way and he stretched his wrists often to feel the bonds holding them as he made love to his wife's breasts. And when his lady-love pulled her breasts away from his mouth and began to kiss and sensuously lick his body, he quivered.

  Drummond was entirely defenseless against whatever Gabriella wished to do to him and it heightened his arousal. He was helpless against the moans of pleasure escaping him as Gabriella licked and nibbled hot love bites all around his belly, the top of his thighs, and even made him turn, more onto his side so she could munch great big kisses and bites all over his butt. He was bucking forward by the time she finished this and his body was shuddering in excitement, but still he managed to barely hold himself back from begging her to take his cock into her mouth.

  Drummond watched Gabriella's heavy-lidded gaze linger over his straining cock from where she knelt between his thighs as his gaze burned hers with sexual fever. Slowly . . . so slowly she dipped her tongue forward lapping the head of his cock and making him groan feverishly as his head fell backward and he thrust his hips forward. The motion embedded his thick engorged cock deep into her mouth and he could feel himself pulsing against her tongue.

  Drummond shivered with the intense will to hold back hi
s release as his precious wife had her way with his cock. She suckled the entire length, until he was arched like a bow and left panting in pure ecstasy. When she finally lifted her rosy swollen lips from the head, he was quaking.

  "Turn on your side, amour," Gabriella ordered huskily. And he did, a willing slave to anything she desired. "More," she commanded as she lay down beside him with her spine pressed along his chest and her bottom snuggling closer to his groin. "Don't move," she warned, and Drummond was held suspended as she bent her upper body in an L from his chest. He felt her creamy hot vagina sucking at the head of his cock as she pressed backward and took his shaft inside her to the hilt of his rigid swollen length.

  "Oh, amour," she squealed in happiness and intense frictional pleasure Drummond imagined, because he was holding back his own incredible squeal. "Don't move, my amour," she warned again breathlessly.

  God, he wanted to. Drummond wanted to pump so badly that he was sweating with the effort to remain still to his lady-loves command. But heaven was his wife, because she began to undulate back and forth against him in a fantastical rhythm.

  "Oh, God, Gabriella!" Drummond belly-roared in blinding ecstasy.

  "Again!" Gabriella, his love, his wife— his lady compelled, commanded breathlessly.

  "Oh, God," Drummond groaned.

  "Carpe diem, amour!"

  The End

  My Lady Enslaved

  By Shirl Anders

  Prologue

  Drummond Penhurst, Duke of Kittridge, relaxed in the lavishly furnished gaming salon of his country manor as he regarded the five gentlemen seated around the table. The game was Monte and these five men, chiefly including himself, compromised one of England’s most successful spying circuits in the last forty years. The fact that he had been administer of this notable spying venture, brought him satisfaction. The fact that it no longer existed with Napoleon’s demise, brought him a feeling of restlessness that he had seldom before encountered.

 

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