The Lady (The Dirty Heroes Collection Book 14)

by Golden Angel

  “I am yours.”

  Something fluttered in her chest. She was his. Delilah had never felt as though she belonged anywhere or to anyone, but here she was with this crude, rough man, who wanted her, saved her, and she was his.

  His fingers pressed, and she cried out, arching her back as sensation tumulted through her again. Her body clenched around his manhood, the fullness of her pussy, making the ecstasy more intense than the first time. It was heavenly bliss, so strong, tears sparked back in her eyes.

  Then his fingers slid away, leaving her pussy humming and tingling, and he thrust hard and fast. Now, she knew how the mares had felt when they were mounted. She shrieked at the sudden, repeated invasion, the long, thick rod pistoning in and out of her, clothing and skin rasping over sensitive tissues, and driving her higher and higher until she thought she might faint. Her weary legs wrapped around him as her senses soared... She never wanted to come down again.

  The Tramp

  She writhed in passion beneath him, her tight, grasping cunt pulling at his cock, and Henry finally gave in to his ravaging desires. He fucked her hard, enjoying every breathy moan, every small shriek, every sobbing gasp for air as she creamed herself over his cock. Driving in hard, he shuddered with his own pent up lust, burying himself fully inside of her, jerking as he filled her with his seed.

  He had not even bothered with a French letter for the first time in his life.

  Of course, he did not need to worry about disease with a virgin, but that wasn’t the only reason for the letters. Strangely, the idea of Delilah round with his child did not dim his attraction or his desire for her. Henry was starting to think he would approve of any way to tie her more tightly to him. The level of obsession should worry him, but as he laid atop of her, feeling her breathing beneath him, his half-hard cock slowly shrinking in her freshly fucked cunt, he had never felt more satisfied.

  5

  The Tramp

  Henry stirred first, reluctantly lifting himself from Delilah’s warmth.

  She blinked up at him, eyes sleepy, limbs limp. Kneeling back, he looked down at her, enjoying the vision laid out before him. No longer cream and pink, her skin was marred by imprints from his clothing and love bites across her neck and shoulders, her hair was coming out of its pins, and her cunt was swollen and so dark pink, it was nearly red. White cum trickled out, a stark contrast to the vivid color. Even her golden curls were matted with their combined juices.

  There was no question she had been thoroughly used. Henry much preferred the way she looked now, disheveled and well satisfied over how she’d appeared when he’d first carried her in here. She would not be returning to the ton. They had been mistreating her from the sounds of it. Likely she would not find life with him easy, but he would not deliberately maltreat her—unlike Lady Felton.

  The name rang a bell. He would have to look at his books later.

  For now, he focused on his new little pet. Because that’s what she was.

  His.

  His to do with as he pleased. A delicate snore made him snort. A very sleepy pet. No doubt because of the day she’d had.

  Easing himself back, he sorted out his own clothing before relieving her of the rest of hers, then tucking her under his blankets. She did not even stir. Although he would like to take full credit for that, he knew it was not entirely due to his efforts. Still, he rather thought the faint smile curving his lips could be credited to him.

  Straightening, he headed back to his office. Frank was waiting outside, guarding the door as he often did when Henry was not around.

  “Go keep an eye on my door. If you hear her calling out, tell her to stay there while you come and get me,” Henry ordered. Frank nodded and went on his way. That took care of Delilah. Now, Henry would see if he could do something to take care of Lady Felton.

  Lady Delilah Darling

  She awoke with a whimper, her legs throbbing from ill-use and her stomach aching from hunger. No wonder, after the day’s exertions. That she’d slept at all was a minor miracle. Pushing herself into a sitting position made her groan. More than just her legs ached. It felt as if every part of her body had been pummeled. Sitting up also reminded her, she had been spanked, and her tender buttocks stung. Not just her buttocks. Between her legs was incredibly sensitive and not in the enjoyable way it had been earlier.

  Looking down at herself in wonderment, she lifted the sheets to see the faint streaks of blood on her thighs and the dried stain of liquids beneath her. A blush heated her cheeks.

  She was no longer a virgin.

  A man had been inside of her.

  What had been dreamlike before, now felt very, very real.

  Panic began to well up inside of her. What had she done? Now, she could never go back...

  Of course, she couldn’t go back, another part of her mind scolded. That had been true from the moment she’d run out of Felton House. She had made a choice, and she had to stick to it.

  What did her choice actually mean? Was she to live here now, in this room? Henry was not even here. Her clothes were in tatters on the floor. She did not know where anything or anyone was. She did not even know where she was. The panic whirled around her, tightening her chest and making it hard to breathe.

  First things first, she needed to find some food. There would be food, wouldn’t there? The enormity of what she did not know, threatened to overwhelm her, but she pushed it back. She need not panic... not yet. Although the lack of clothing did not help.

  Moving gingerly, wincing as her feet met the floor, she pulled a blanket off the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her, covering herself as best she could before hobbling over to the door. Testing the knob, she did not know if she was relieved or disturbed to discover it was unlocked. She stood in front of it, trying to decide whether to open the door when the handle turned, and she jumped back, shrieking. Her legs were too worn out to hold her, and she tumbled to the floor.

  “Alright there, lady?” The deep, rough voice was not Henry’s, and Delilah whimpered again, desperately drawing the blankets back over everything that had been revealed when she fell. Looking up, she saw the man who had walked through the street beside them when Henry had carried her here. The expression on his face was one of amusement. “I already seen everything if that’s what you’re worried about, lady.”

  She could tell he meant to be comforting, but his words only increased her humiliation. Knowing he was the man who had come in when she’d been over Henry’s lap... She’d thought the blush on her cheeks could not get any hotter, but she’d been wrong. Her cheeks were so hot, she felt feverish. She dropped her eyes and would have crawled under the blanket and hid from him until he went away if she could.

  When she didn’t immediately reply, he tilted his head down at her. “D’ya need somethin’?”

  Her stomach growled, prompting her to finally speak, although her voice was even more timid than had become her usual under Lady Felton’s care.

  “Supper?”

  The man nodded. “Stay ‘ere.”

  The door closed, and he was gone. Delilah scrambled back to the bed, her muscles protesting all the way until she could huddle safely in the center, hidden under all the pillows and blankets she could pull atop herself. When the man came back with food, she was going to ask for a new dress.

  The Tramp

  The hour was late, but the night was young, at least for the men still coming into the Tramp’s Den, eagerly looking to fill their pockets. It always amused the Tramp how many of them were so certain they would win, no matter that they’d often left with empty purses before.

  Watching from the balcony overlooking the entire floor, Henry smiled. Perhaps he was imagining it, due to his own satisfaction, but there was a good hum in the air tonight. Laughter and smoke filled the air, the gentlemen were in fine spirits, and so far, there had been no trouble. Not that trouble came to his doorstep very often anymore.

  Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, an
d he turned to see Butch joining him.

  “The lady is awake and hungry,” Butch said, without any preamble.

  Nodding, Henry cast one more look over the crowd. “Keep an eye on things.”

  A quick stop by the kitchen for a tray and Henry was on his way back up to his rooms, somewhat bemused to be in a serving position rather than being served. It had been years since he’d served anyone but himself. Although doing so was far from humbling. After all, should he not care for what was his? And she was his now.

  Pure satisfaction laced through him, quickening his steps.

  When he came through the door, he frowned when he did not immediately see her, then nearly laughed aloud when he realized how she had hidden herself away.

  “Come out and play, little pet.” He kept his voice coaxing as he carried the tray to the table near the fireplace. There was no fire, of course, as the evening was far too warm, but it was the only area in the room suitable for his intentions. The rug beneath the table was thick and soft, and the table was large enough to bear the weight of the tray.

  Two eyes blinked owlishly, then Delilah slowly began to emerge from the pile of bed linens—except for the one she wrapped around herself. When she put her feet on the floor and winced, Henry frowned.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “My feet are sore,” she admitted softly. “From running. And my legs…” She blushed, and Henry chuckled because they both knew her legs were sore from more than running.

  “Get down and crawl to me, then,” he said. “And leave the sheet there.”

  More blinking, eyes wide before she finally found her voice again.

  “What?”

  “Leave the sheet,” he ordered firmly. “And crawl. I do not want you to hurt your feet.”

  “Can’t... can’t you come get me?” There was pleading in her voice, but Henry shook his head. He could not carry her everywhere.

  The ideas that had been forming in the back of his mind... well, many of them involved her crawling. It was not her humiliation he craved so much as her submission, but he could not deny, knowing she would be suffering through embarrassment to please him greatly appealed to him.

  “No, pet,” he said, almost gently. “I want to see you crawl. Naked.”

  So badly, his cock was already hardening in anticipation.

  Lady Delilah Darling

  Swallowing hard, Delilah stared at the man standing across the room from her, but there was nothing in his demeanor to indicate he was joking—she so wanted to believe he was. The longer the silence stretched between them, the more anxious she became, but he did not change his mind. He just looked back at her, food beside him, waiting patiently.

  Slowly, she slid to the edge of the bed, not quite able to fully look at him as she unwrapped the blankets from around her body. It did not matter she had been naked in front of him, and he had been inside of her, mere hours earlier. Having to undress herself, to expose herself to him, was still difficult, going against everything she had been taught. With some rest, some of her modesty had reasserted itself, although she almost wished it had not. She had felt so much freer earlier.

  “Good girl.” His tone was appreciative. “Now, on your knees. Crawl to me, lovely girl.”

  It was the compliment that made the unthinkable somehow possible. He said it as if he was asking her because he truly wanted to see her do it and would enjoy it, not because he was trying to humiliate her the way Lady Felton and the twins had.

  With her leg muscles and the bottoms of her feet aching so fearfully, it was almost a relief to fall to all fours. Tendrils of her hair hung on either side of her face, obscuring her view. It was easier to crawl than it had been to walk to the door earlier.

  “Good pet,” he crooned as she came closer. He was holding out his hand, and a flush went through her body when she saw he was dangling a small piece of meat from his fingers as if she truly was a dog he intended to reward with a treat. Before she could say anything, he put the meat to her lips. It smelled heavenly, and her body responded to the demands of her stomach rather than her pride. She opened her mouth and took it. She was so hungry, she could not even tell if it was actually tasty, or if it just tasted so good because she was so hungry. “That’s it.”

  Peeking up, she could see Henry watching her with a strange light in his eyes. In this position, she could not look up at his face without her eyes also traveling over the front of his body, and the outline of his manhood against his breeches made it clear he wanted her again. She did not understand why he wanted to feed her, but she did not bother to protest when he sat down before her, bringing another piece of meat to her mouth.

  “Sit, pet, in whatever position is most comfortable for you.”

  Confused, she glanced at the chair across from his, but he just laughed and reached out to place his hand over the back of her neck.

  “Right here, pet, on the floor.”

  “Am... am I your... pet?” she asked softly, settling onto her bottom, wincing slightly, although not too much soreness from her earlier spanking lingered. “Like a dog?”

  Henry chuckled, hand feeding her again, this time a small piece of bread.

  “A little like.”

  He did not enumerate, and Delilah did not feel brave enough to ask, so he fed her the rest of her meal in silence, giving her drinks of water between bites, which she gulped down greedily. She had not realized how parched she had become until he held the cup to her lips. It felt very odd to be fed this way—naked on her knees while he sat in the chair, fully clothed. Yet she felt safer and more cared for than she had in so long.

  A month ago, this would have been unthinkable. Now, it was vastly preferable to returning to Lady Felton’s.

  Her life had gone mad.

  When the food was gone, she felt sleepy again, her belly full, even if the rest of her was still sore.

  “Poor little pet.” Henry pulled her head against his thigh. She sighed, settling her cheek there, closing her eyes as he began to fingercomb her hair, pulling out the pins she had not taken care of. If only he kept doing that, she would do whatever he wanted.

  6

  The Tramp

  Waking up with a woman curled up next to him was not a new experience, but the temptation to linger beside her certainly was.

  Rather than return to his balcony last night, he’d stayed in his rooms, even after he’d realized she was nearly asleep with her head on his lap. Her mouth being so close to his cock had given him ideas, but he wanted a fully awake woman sucking him, not a mostly-asleep one. Now, she was soft and warm against him, her ass pressed against his groin with his shaft splitting the two cheeks. He enjoyed having her body tucked into his, but his cock was aching to get inside of her again.

  Sliding his hand down to her thigh, he adjusted his hips, lifting her leg with his hand to give him more room to maneuver. She began to stir as the head of his cock rubbed against her pussy. There was a little bit of slickness there, enough for him to thrust and push into her.

  Flailing, she came awake, and he held onto her tightly, the first two inches of his cock already inside of her. Sinking his teeth into her shoulder, he gripped firmly but gently, and she went still after a long moment, panting. Releasing the bite, he licked over the indentations of his teeth.

  “Good morning, my little pet,” he said, relishing the phrase.

  “G-g-good morning.”

  He loved the way she breathlessly stuttered out the words, uncertain and sleepy. Hooking her leg with his hand, he lifted it higher and thrust again, more powerfully this time. It was not easy from the position on his side, but it was worth it to hear her whimper as her pussy opened for him, bottom wriggling against him. With her knee draped over his arm, keeping her legs spread, he was able to move his fingers to her clit, rubbing the little nubbin in slow circles to coincide with his thrusts.

  “Oh God...” She clamped down around him, her pussy becoming slicker with every thrust and stroke of his fingers. Her back arched, and
she whimpered again, clearly becoming more and more aroused as he fucked her.

  “Good pet,” he murmured before nipping at her earlobe, dragging his teeth over the delicate appendage. “I want to feel you cream yourself on my cock.”

  Another whimper at his crude words, then he wrapped the arm her head was pillowed on around her neck, reaching down to cup a pert breast and pinch the quickly hardening nipple. Her pussy tightened around him, her whimpers growing louder as he fondled her breasts, pumping harder into her, his need rougher, even more urgent than it had been the night before.

  Lady Delilah Darling

  Henry’s cock—yes, that word was so much more appropriate than any she’d had for it before—dragged in and out of her, pushing the air out of her lungs as he filled her over and over again. Her body was still sore, especially between her legs, yet his unexpected invasion felt so good. She did not know how to reconcile the two.

  Hot breath bathed the back of her neck as he grunted, using her body for his pleasure, all while working to bring her to her own culmination. He expertly pinched and caressed, making her writhe with pleasure and pain. The need inside of her was already growing as fast and hard as he was thrusting into her. Ecstasy rose up as she burned with the waves of pleasure washing over her, feeding the flames rioting through her core.

  No sooner had she begun to come down from the heights of rapture than he pushed her forward onto her stomach, his cock still driving in and out of her, but now his hands were no longer providing any stimulation. All she could feel was his cock, his groin slapping against her buttocks, and his hands gripping her hips hard as he pressed her into the mattress and pillaged her with all the fervor of a man on the brink. Her cries were muffled, her pussy burning from the rough use and the overstimulation of sensitive tissues, but there was nothing she could do. She was pinned beneath him, a receptacle for his lust, and overcome by intense sensations swirling through her.