Lily Mine

by Joseph, Annabel

  "My lord, this cinnamon cake is just delicious. I shall have to tell Mrs. Habersham. It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. I truly believe so."

  He tilted his head back and regarded her thoughtfully. "I have tasted things more delicious."

  He said it without the slightest bit of crudity, but his meaning was impossible to misunderstand.

  "You are a rogue," Lily whispered as one of the maidservants entered to whisk their empty plates away and offer Lord Ashbourne an after-dinner cordial, which he politely refused. After the maid left, he leaned closer to her.

  "Yes, my lady. I can be quite a rogue. I will prove it to you shortly."

  Without further ado, he stood and helped her from her chair. He led her from the dining room and through to the staircase with a respectful, ambling grace completely at odds with the racing of her blood. They climbed the sweeping stairwell together and he ushered her into his chamber. All gentlemanly affectation fell away then. Lily gasped in shocked pleasure as he cupped her breasts and kissed the beating pulse at the side of her neck.

  "Oh… James…" Words failed her as his fingers reached behind to pop open her small satin buttons, digging into the corset beneath.

  "Too many clothes," he muttered under his breath. As if on cue, Lily's maid scratched softly on the door.

  "My lady, will ye need any help undressing tonight?"

  "No! Erm, no thank you, Matilda. I am just…oh…fine--" Lily gave James a quelling glance, which he ignored, his lips covering hers as his fingers worked deftly at her corset hooks. "I will…mmph… I will manage tonight with Lord Ashbourne's help."

  "Yes, my lady," Matilda said. "And shall I tend the fire afore you take to bed?"

  James lifted his head with an impatient tsk. "Thank you. That will be all, Matilda," he practically barked at the door.

  Lily could barely muffle her laughter. Poor Matilda would be absolutely mortified.

  "James, must you--mmm--"

  He stifled her words with another deep, passionate kiss and lifted her bodily from her gown and corset as they fell away in a heap. He carried her to the bed in her frilly undergarments and set about removing his own coat and shirt. Again, a knock on the door, and Hanover's bolder voice.

  "My lord, shall I--"

  "Go away!"

  "Yes, my lord," said Hanover evenly. This time, Lily laughed out loud.

  "Honestly," James huffed, tossing his trousers over a bedside chair, "it's as if they think we are children and not quite up to the task of undressing ourselves and putting ourselves to bed."

  "Perhaps Hanover is only worried you may leave your clothing thrown about in a wrinkled mess," Lily murmured, looking pointedly at the articles strewn about the chamber.

  "Aw, hell." James gave her a look as the last of his clothing came off. "I crave you more than a little. If you do not take off the last of your things, I can't promise I won't tear them to pieces in my need to get at what's underneath."

  Lily did not need to be told twice. She smiled at him as she removed her camisole, petticoats, and stockings, and tossed them just as carelessly to the floor. He was clearly in high spirits and made her feel joyous and debauched. As she looked upon his strong virile form approaching her, some pulse inside her began to beat and catch fire. He came over her, gathering her close and kissing her with a deep and galvanizing intensity. His knees pressed hers apart and his hand slid over her hip and down to tease her slickened center. She threw her head back and arched against him as he thrust a finger up inside.

  "Oh…oh, please…"

  "Please stop?" he teased.

  "No, no…please never stop." Another finger filled her and she reached for him, clutching his shoulders and moaning as the heat inside her built. With a grunt and an abrupt movement, his fingers left her and his hands captured hers, clinching them in an inexorable grasp. She felt his thick maleness part her and lifted her hips to ease his way. He slid inside with a groan that resonated against her chest, just as her entire pelvis resonated with the sensation of him stretching and filling her. Excitement rose and spread through her body as he withdrew and sank deep again, manly power and barely leashed force. His face was rigid, concentrating. She squirmed beneath him, wanting to urge him on.

  "Oh, God--" His voice was a strained gasp. "I do not wish to hurt you, but you will drive me over the edge."

  "You will not hurt me. Please, you feel so exquisite inside me."

  "Lily, have mercy." His words cut off in a gasp as he quickened his thrusts, nearly lifting her from the bed as his mouth possessed hers and his hands closed even harder around her wrists. She struggled against him, wanting more, wanting everything. Each stroke of his cock sent flames of sensation from her center up to her nipples and down her quivering limbs to her toes. She pressed against him as he kissed her, opening her teeth to nibble at his lips. He stabbed his tongue inside her mouth, mimicking the actions of his lovemaking, challenging her to greater and greater response. She felt completely possessed by him, by his hard body moving over hers, by his rasping breath and strong grip.

  "Come for me. Let go and soar in my arms."

  She knew exactly the release he spoke of, the blessed release that was all she could think about all day. She closed her eyes and let all the building sensations take over her. She let herself slip beneath control and propriety and become a wild, free spirit for him.

  She clutched at his hands as the peak neared, as the pressure and pleasure in her middle reached the point of no return, and then gasped in wonder as her crisis overtook her. Wave after wave of ecstasy pulsed through her, leaving her limp and breathless. He pumped in her a few more times, his own breath a harsh rasp, and then abruptly withdrew in a convulsive movement. Lily felt a hot sticky substance fall on her inner thigh, and stared down in curiosity.

  James gave her a rueful smile, using the edge of the fine linen sheet to wipe away the fluid. She held her tongue, not wishing to give away her lack of understanding.

  "I don't want to…harm you, dearest Lily."

  "Harm me?"

  "Get you with child. It would be a tangle on top of everything else."

  "Oh," said Lily, still confused. "Yes, of course."

  "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

  "No, sir."

  "Have you any idea about the workings of the male and female anatomy? About how children are conceived?"

  "Well, certainly. I mean…" She blushed, feeling stupid. Why had her mother died before she could explain these things to her? "I can reason it out, more or less."

  "I will put it simply," he said, brushing light fingertips up her thigh and back down again. "If I spend inside you, a child can result. As long as I spend outside your womb, the possibility is much less likely."

  "Less likely?" Lily echoed nervously. If she became pregnant by Lord Ashbourne it would indeed complicate her life.

  "It is quite remote," he reassured her. "I will be very careful."

  "That is most kind of you."

  "Is there anything else you would like to know about what we…do together?"

  "Hmm. The rest seems rather clear." She gave him a crooked smile. "Clear enough for me."

  He grinned at her, chucking her beneath the chin. "So innocent, and yet so wanton."

  "Am I wanton? How shameful."

  "I like your shameful side, darling. Speaking of which--"

  He hauled her close, then pushed her down across his lap. She turned up to him, laughing and squiggling. "James!"

  "I believe I promised you some distress after dinner. I was rather too overwrought with lust to see to it right away. But now--"

  His hand fell upon her bottom and she winced. She had expected more of a playful slap. "Ouch!" She squirmed in earnest as he landed a couple more stinging blows. "Oh, sir!"

  He paused. "Yes?"

  "That…that rather hurts."

  "Very good." He set about spanking her again, not gentling his force one bit.

  "But…oh…sir!"
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  "Yes, dearest?" He paused again.

  "I…well…how long will you…?"

  "How long will I spank you? Until your bottom is nice and scarlet and aching, I suppose."

  "Oh. Ouch!" She very much enjoyed the feeling of him holding her trapped, and she quite liked the way his strong, hairy thighs felt against her front. But the spanking part was most certainly painful. Each time his hand fell she jerked at the stinging reverberations and she was unable to still her wildly kicking feet. When she tried to squirm and turn away from each upcoming blow, he simply righted her and spanked her again.

  But for all the pain that bloomed and spread across her bottom, a headier sensation was blooming in another place. She had been powerless with Horace, and Horace had hurt her, but this was completely not the same. To be perfectly truthful, he was beginning to excite her very much.

  But oh! More stinging pain, and nagging irritation that each blow was followed by another, and then another. Would his hand never tire?

  "Oh, please sir! My bottom is feeling very achy now." She thought she might have heard him chuckle, but he stopped. She looked up with a mostly sincere forlorn expression. "Truly, I understand now about the distress. It is exciting."

  "Yes," he agreed. "For me also." His hand stroked her burning cheeks, soothing her, before he delivered one last stinging slap.

  "But perhaps…perhaps I have had enough excitement for one night," she said.

  James laughed then, a wonderful sound that still surprised her. He pulled her up into his lap and she stared into his pale blue eyes with a kind of wonderment. How could he hurt her and thrill her so completely at the same time? She shifted, her red cheeks chafed by the dusting of hair on his thighs, and smiled, because it was impossible not to when he smiled at her that way. "I'm very pleased by you, Lily. You took that spanking well for the first time."

  "The first time?" Her eyes widened. "Will there be more times?"

  "In truth, I was going to suggest a regimen of sorts, to keep your mind in the proper place, so to speak."

  "A regimen? What--whatever do you mean?"

  "A disciplinary regimen, for fun and pleasure. A nightly spanking to keep your bottom nice and sore and keep you on your toes." As he said it, his hands began to knead her punished hindquarters and Lily arched closer to him, feeling naughty and wanton.

  "Perhaps…perhaps I might need some kind of regular discipline. Because when I'm around you I feel decidedly undisciplined." She could feel his hard rod against her center. She slid herself against him and his smile faded, transformed into something less civilized and much more intent. She sighed and closed her eyes as he lifted her hips and began to nudge into her.

  "Look at me."

  At his whispered command, her eyes popped open in surprise. She had been drifting away on pure, decadent sensation, but she refocused her eyes on him. He pulled her closer, still staring at her with that intent look on his face.

  She sensed his raw need, his desire to take her over and make her his own. She pressed closer still, until every inch of her body was against his, and felt the slow, steady stretch of his cock parting her. Her head fell back and a pleading groan rose in her throat. It was nearly more than she could take, but she still wanted it. He always made her want more. She wanted the fire of his hands and the ice of his eyes, she wanted his commands and his challenges. She wanted his smile and his laughter, and the hot hardness of him deep inside.

  She began to climb to her crisis, and he urged her upward with encouraging murmurs. When she grabbed his shoulders, scrabbled her fingers across his back for purchase in the final press to find release, he took her arms hard and trapped them behind her. She came apart in the cage of his control, shuddering and clenching on the length of his member within her. The last thing she thought before thought left her completely was, please! Please, never let me go!

  * * * * *

  Oh, the way she looked at him. Dread, excitement, confusion, lust. He wished he could explain it all to her, his perversities, his urges, but he didn't know where to begin such a discussion. It was enough that he didn't seem to repulse her. Not yet anyway. She had been nothing but willing and curious, and her breathless moment of crisis hadn't been faked. But now she lay beside him looking completely overwhelmed. He ran a fingertip across her brow to her soft cheek and down to her elegant jaw. Her eyes fluttered closed and then opened again.

  "Beautiful Lily," he said.

  She smiled that soft, secret smile that slayed him. He knew he had to speak. He had to say something. She looked to him to guide these erotic rendezvous, and he was happy to do so. But he found he wished for perfect words because the moment felt perfect--and he could find no words good enough.

  "Lily," he said again. "You must know… You must understand how meaningful…" His voice cut off, inadequate. He took her hand and drew it to his lips. "I do not know how to say--" He drew in a deep breath, determined to salvage the moment. "I only mean to say that I find you the most appallingly wonderful treasure, and I do not know how I subsisted before you came to my life. Truly, I don't."

  She laughed softly, not in a mocking way. She was brightness and innocence, without the least bit of artifice. Her eyes shone as she gazed at him and she didn't seem to care that he was a stammering idiot.

  "James…you are so unlike the way I expected you to be when first I met you." She reached up and touched his face, tracing his jaw with her soft hands. Her eyes held a kind of wonder, as well as a hint of wistfulness he couldn't bear. She knew as well as he that their love was impossible. Still, like him, she seemed determined to ignore that for the moment.

  "What do you mean, what you expected me to be?" He took her hand and trapped it in his, as if he could trap her as well, keep her forever.

  "The first day I met you, you seemed so reserved, almost painfully reserved. You seemed a very practical and serious kind of man. But I find you are not at all practical and serious. I think you are a hedonist at heart."

  He smiled. "You've quite figured me out. I do try to hide it."

  "Why hide it?"

  "So only those dearest to my heart will know the real me."

  Her expression sobered. Charming lines of serious regard appeared between her brows. "Am I truly dear to you?"

  "How can you think otherwise?"

  "It is only that you have everything. This home, the rich furnishings and clothing, the servants, the important title and political work. You have so much. I don't know what I can possibly offer you."

  "Don't you? That seems to indicate quite a lack of imagination. I ought to spank you again for that alone." Her smile was back again, and a silly little shiver that created delicious feelings in him.

  "Please, no more," she said. "At least not tonight."

  "Tomorrow then?" he teased.

  She slanted a look at him, more provocative than the most experienced coquette. "I suppose you might spank me whenever you like. Is that not the appeal of the whole situation?"

  They both understood that it only appealed if she enjoyed it--and her look told him in no uncertain terms that she did. He ran his hand lazily over her bare cheeks. "Hmm. Perhaps you have some imagination after all."

  "You are pricking my imagination more each time we are alone, that is certain."

  "And you delight me in your willingness to play along with my erotic torments. What you give me is something I have not had in too long a time. Acceptance and ease. I feel at ease with you. Completely able to be myself without fear of judgment of not measuring up."

  Her eyes clouded with something like sympathy, and then she scooted closer to him, hiding her head in his shoulder. "She did not leave with another because you didn't measure up. Surely you don't believe that. Her heart had already been given away. You could not change that."

  "Couldn't I?"

  "Perhaps you could have, if she'd given you a chance. But it seems to me she didn't. Her mind was made up from the start."

  James fell silent, stroking her hair in
the flickering half-light. "So many people make up their minds from the start. About everything. But you are not like that. And to me, that makes you very, very special indeed."

  It was the most he could say in that moment, because to say anymore would have given away all his feelings for her. Feelings he was quite sure would leave them both devastated in the end.

  Chapter Six: Afield

  Lily was not at all surprised to learn that James had been serious about embarking on a nightly spanking regimen. The next night he sent her up ahead of him with whispered orders to undress and bend over the bed. She had obeyed, feeling shivery and naughty. She waited, her bottom exposed, and prayed that Matilda remembered James' orders for privacy. Before long the throbbing between her legs had become so insistent she'd had to shift from foot to foot, but nothing could assuage it.

  He had arrived with a whippy little horse crop dangling from his hand and an irrepressible smile on his face. He had tied her hands behind her back and made her spread her legs wide. The wicked sting of the crop made her dance around until he placed a firm hand on her shoulders to pin her down, but that only made the ache in her quim grow worse.

  The next night he had secured her hand and foot to the bed and used a wicked freshly cut switch he had somehow managed to secret up into the bedroom. She muffled her cries of erotic pain in the bedding, squirming and pressing her hips forward against the sheets as if to find some release. But no, he allowed no release until afterward, when his sensual, skilled ministrations had her muffling cries of an entirely different sort. As his play broadened in scope and creativity a little more each day, Lily found it harder and harder to remain quiet. By the second week, the servants were warned away from the second floor completely each evening beginning at dusk.

  Now Lily sat across from James at dinner, having just come from yet another stolen trip to the attic to view his books. She slid a look across at him, so handsome and dashing as always in his flawless starched shirt and dinner jacket. Did he know what she thought as she sat there stealing looks at him? What she dreamed about each time his cool blue gaze fell on her as they made light conversation?