by Demelza Hart
“I know.”
“So what’s different now?”
She eyed him but gave no answer. “Come along. We must both be getting back.”
They walked peacefully as the sun lowered and cast a deep burnished glow over the landscape. At one point Isabella let out a soft giggle.
“What, my lady?”
“This. You and I. Like village sweethearts.”
“Do you like that idea, my lady?”
Her face grew distant. “I can’t like any idea of the sort. I am the Countess of Atherton. I do not imagine such things.”
“You could. Just this once.”
She gave him a little smirk. “So…what would village sweethearts do when out for a walk?”
“Well…they might…hold hands.”
She laughed again, a genuine warm laugh that poured from her. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
“Ladies do not ‘hold hands’. Not with their sisters or their cousins or their husbands.”
“Well, I’m none of those, my lady.” And he held his hand out for her.
Isabella gave him a weary look of incredulity. He kept his hand out, the same hand that had been inside her earlier. Then, slowly, she slipped her fingers through his and together they walked back through the woods.
He couldn’t remember a time he’d been so happy.
* * * *
There were raised voices that Friday. The Earl, it was said, was in one of his moods. The staff knew to lie low. But not Edward. Lord Atherton might be his boss, but he still hated the bastard.
He stood waiting in His Lordship’s room, tense and indignant. The sooner he could be out of the fucking man’s house, the better. Not long now. If only…
Lord Atherton stormed into the room. “Stupid bitch. Doesn’t know what’s good for her. Tell them to get the carriage ready. I’ll be gone until late. You needn’t come.”
“Will Her Ladyship be accompanying you?”
“Don’t be fucking ridiculous! No, she fucking will not. I’ll take my pleasures elsewhere and she can see to herself. What man would want that frigid bitch?”
Edward stiffened. He was holding His Lordship’s scarf. It would be so easy… Hold it, coil it, wrap it, tighten it.
“My advice to you, Edward? Don’t marry. There’s women and whores aplenty out there. A wife just complicates things and brings out unnecessary grievances. At least mine has the house to amuse herself.”
“Being in a big house like this can be lonely, I believe, my lord.”
His Lordship turned his ruddy face up to Edward and sneered. “A valet is not employed for an opinion. More like that and you’ll be shovelling shit in the street.” And Lord Atherton grabbed the scarf then swept out.
* * * *
Edward was passing the morning room. He was halted in his progress by a soft sound from within. Crying. Without a thought, he opened the door and burst in.
Isabella was sitting alone on the divan. Her back was hunched and heaving. She turned abruptly when he entered then stood, hurrying across to the mantelpiece and keeping her back to him.
“How dare you enter a room without permission? Get out! Leave me.”
He didn’t. Edward marched across to her and took hold of her arms with gentle conviction. “What’s the matter?” He saw immediately. A dark purple bruise was spreading up the left side of her face. “Fucking hell. It were him, weren’t it?”
“I told you to get out.” She tried to hold her head down but her voice lacked conviction. The tears were still falling.
“I’ll kill him. I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”
“Edward…”
Without thinking, he turned from her, ready to find him, ready to extinguish the life from the bastard. But slight fingers closed around his wrist and stopped him.
“Edward…don’t leave me.”
He turned back to her. Her eyes were wide and open. The tears were gone. She looked as she had when sleeping in the woods the other day, no pretensions, no airs. Just Isabella. With barely a thought, he bent and kissed her, hard and desperate, wanting to give and heal and soothe. She coiled herself around him and took from him.
“He’s not going to hurt you again. I won’t let him hurt you again.”
She held him tight as he kissed and nuzzled down her neck, pulling back the silk of her gown to find the warm, secreted flesh he sought. His skin, his flesh.
“I don’t understand… I let you hurt me. I want you to, I love it, I adore it. Why, Edward, why?”
He pulled back. “Because you trust me. And you need me.”
“And the other men? Frederick?”
“Freddie’s my friend. I gave him to you. He made you happy that time I were away.”
“Yes.”
“I like you being happy. I like it a lot.”
“Come to me tonight, Edward. Promise me you’ll come to me tonight. I need so much tonight. I need all of you. Promise me, promise me…”
He was feeding off her, pouring himself over her body. His cock strained gloriously against the warm depths of her skirts in anticipation. “I promise.”
Chapter Five
Isabella waited. If Edward had kept her waiting before, she would grow impatient and frustrated and he would have felt her wrath. Not tonight. Tonight she lay in dusky silence, her body alight and anticipatory. At ten o’clock, there was a knock on her door.
She tried not to hurry her footsteps, but found her feet carrying her swiftly to the door. Outside, with a slight but knowing smile on his face, stood Edward.
“Your Ladyship,” he crooned.
Her belly leapt. She pulled the door open a little to let him in and saw Frederick, who had been masked behind her husband’s valet.
“My lady.” The footman inclined his head.
Her shock was quickly replaced by a warm glow of lust. She turned to Edward who was already in her room. “This is a surprise.”
“Not an unwelcome one, I trust, my lady?” mused Edward.
She looked back to Frederick who was still standing in the hallway. “I suppose you had better come in.” He walked in and she closed the door behind him, shutting the three of them in together.
Edward loosened his tie and collar then sat himself in her chair, taking out a cigarette and lighting it smoothly. “Sit yerself down, Freddie boy. There’s no point standing there like a constipated penguin.”
Frederick seemed confused and glanced around the room. Isabella stepped into him and ran her hands over the tightness of his livery, relishing the swell of muscle underneath. “What’s the matter, Frederick? You weren’t so coy the last time I saw you. He’s right. You should sit down.”
Fred looked around before choosing to sit on the bed. Isabella stood before him in that same lace robe she’d worn before. Her eyes flicked down to his cock, which was already straining for release.
“He’s ready for you, Is. We’ve had a long day. Need some respite. Just like you. Lie on the bed, on yer side.”
She glanced over to Edward who narrowed his eyes while pulling on his cigarette. She crawled onto her bed and lay as she’d been asked. Fred, with a nod from Edward, came and lay top to tail with her, his groin level with her head. It bulged out to her and she craved it, achingly.
“That’s the way,” continued Edward. “Now…take it out and suck it.”
Isabella made short work of the buttons on Frederick’s breeches. He lurched out, making her eyes widen instinctively. She’d forgotten quite how big he was. She opened her mouth wide and took the full head of his cock in her lips.
“Jesus!” he slurred.
“Nothing like a good, warm taste of cock before bed, eh, Is? You show him.”
She did. Frederick tasted of wood smoke and boot polish. She went at him hard, swirling her tongue nimbly along the shaft before taking much of his vast girth into her mouth. She’d take Edward into her throat, but this cock was too big for that. Still, what she couldn’t manage with her mouth, she made up for with her hand
. She gripped his length, damp with her dribbling saliva, and pumped it, prompting groans of pleasure from the footman.
“I think you’re forgetting something, Fred. Your speciality. Don’t neglect the lady.”
Frederick had been distracted by his cock engulfed in the divine mouth of the lady of the house, but now, with her right leg bent, that magnificent dark pink and moist quim was right there in front of him. The musty smell of desire wafted up to him and he dived in.
Fuck, she tasted sweet, clean and fresh—ripe for sucking. He wanted to disappear right up her. He slipped in his tongue and slid it as far into her quim as he could before retreating to her plump clitoris, circling it carefully yet hard.
Fred went at her with no inhibitions. When he had pussy in front of him, he was hardly going to hold back. Countess Atherton was moaning like a prize mare at the stud even with her mouth stuffed full of cock. Fred spread her legs more and exposed the tight little hole he was aiming for.
Isabella yelped when he licked the star of her arse. Fred glanced up—it seemed to be a new thing for her. Isabella relinquished the hold on his cock for a moment to glance across at Edward. He narrowed his eyes and dragged on his cigarette.
Fred did it again, this time circling in rapid little rings around the puckered entrance.
“Don’t stop,” she murmured.
He continued for some time, enjoying the contented moans that drifted from her. It took her a while to remember to return to his cock. Fred suddenly sucked so hard on her clitoris, it prompted a wail of delight. But he wasn’t neglecting that gorgeous little arsehole and inched two fingers deep into it, feeling her open for them willingly.
“Oh, Frederick, just—there!” And she shattered, shaking hard, momentarily and understandably distracted from her own task. But as soon as her pleasure faded she took him deep again and applied herself fervently to the firm flesh under her tongue. He groaned—Jesus, the woman could suck cock.
“Fucking, fucking hell, I’ll come off in your mouth.”
“She won’t have it any other way. You flood her mouth, Freddie. A lady needs her sustenance. Isn’t that right, my lady?”
Isabella’s only response was to squeeze and suck and tug. Frederick shuddered, tensed, then came, spurting hot cum into her mouth four times. She lapped it up like a starving kitten, mewling with delight as the warm spunk rolled on her tongue.
“Let me see. Come ‘ere,” demanded Edward. She shuffled off the bed and across to him on her knees, still holding the sweetness of Fred’s seed in her mouth. “That’s the way. Open up.”
She opened her mouth and he stared down at the white cum pooled on her tongue. Edward smiled. “Swallow.”
Isabella did so immediately, after which Edward leant down and kissed her, surely tasting the other man on her lips. “Good girl. My beautiful, good girl. Now stand up, my lady. Over to the bed post. Hands above yer head. Fred has a lot to learn about you, after all.”
She did as she had been asked without hesitation.
Frederick sat back on the bed, still recovering from his climax. Edward indolently stubbed out the last of his cigarette.
Taking scarves from her drawers, which he opened with the awareness and confidence of a husband, he then paced to her and tied her wrists firmly above her to the bedpost. Isabella’s breath came fast in anticipation and her nipples stood out hard, crying out for touch.
“What do ya reckon to that, Freddie boy? All tied up for us. And would you look at those little cherries? Come ‘ere and I’ll show you what I mean.”
Fred managed to rouse himself from the bed and let his eyes feast on the sight of her breasts, which she could feel stretched by the upward pull of her arms.
“You watch her face, Fred. Nothing gets her goin’ more than a little attention to her tits.”
Isabella bit her lip in anticipation, her eyes drooping as the heat of desire thickened and dulled her mind. She turned her gaze down and saw Edward’s thumbs hovering over her nipples. If he didn’t touch them, she would scream.
With a tug at the corner of his mouth, knowing exactly what she needed, Edward let those thumbs graze lightly over the twin rosebuds of flesh. Isabella caught her breath. He did it again.
“Jesus, I could hang me coat on ‘em,” mused Frederick. “Give us a feel, Ed.”
“Patience, Frederick. You’ve had yer fun, let me have mine.”
Edward turned his hands over and now rubbed his knuckles along the tight red nubs so that they flicked idly back and forth. Isabella bit into her lip.
“Y’see…it’s all about judging a lady’s mood. How much can she take on any given day, at any given time? And I think Her Ladyship is the mood for…” By now his thumbs and forefingers were perched around the nipples, ready, so ready. He closed them slowly, very slowly, tighter and tighter. “Quite a lot.”
Isabella released her breath as glorious focused sensation gripped her tits. Oh, she loved it. The pain, if you could call it that, was reinforced. She dropped her head down so she could view her own delicious torture. Edward’s fingers had squeezed her nipples to the point of flatness and were now twisting slightly, enough to let sensation rip through with vengeful authority yet again, should her body adjust to it.
“Fuck, that’s gotta hurt,” commented Frederick.
“She wouldn’t have it any other way, would you, my lady?”
Isabella managed to shake her head as sweet shards of glorious pain raced through her body to send a rush of lust to coat her inner thighs. “More.” It mustn’t end. This feeling, this awareness of life in all its beauty and agony must never end. And in this man’s hands she knew she was safe and complete.
“Freddie, open the bedside drawer. There’s a little mother-of-pearl pot. Bring me what’s inside.”
Frederick didn’t hesitate and moved immediately to the drawer beside her bed. Isabella tried to turn to see and her pulse quickened as soon as he approached her. In his hands he held the two little metal pincers she so desired. Frederick stood before her, staring at the nipple clamps in wonder and squeezing them open. He released them and they sprang back harshly. He looked shocked and wary but Isabella merely groaned, willing him to use them.
“Give ‘em ‘ere, Fred, she needs ‘em.” Edward knew what he was doing. “Y’look like you’ve been asked ter dance a hornpipe for His Lordship, Fred.” He chuckled. “Trust me. Have a feel down there, she’ll like that.”
Isabella moaned her approval. Her nipples and quim were both so in need of touch that she barely knew which she’d prefer.
Edward took the clamps from Fred and moved around to stand in front of her. Fred brought his hand between her legs and found her soaked. “Jesus, that’s fuckin’ wet!”
“Would you expect anything else from my perfect woman?” said Edward, holding the clamps up for inspection before her eyes.
“Edward…” she murmured.
Frederick swept over her clit at that moment. Her belly lurched with pleasure and her nipples stiffened yet again. Frederick was now going at her dripping quim with ardent attention, sliding and sweeping his fingers over the slick folds before working them inside. She recalled Edward putting his whole hand inside her. She wanted that fullness again, that sense of being completely impaled on man. And now she had two of them.
She focused on the glimmering of metal in Edward’s hands and locked eyes with him. He opened one clamp and brought it close to her left nipple. Holding the dark red nub tenderly in his other hand, he coaxed it to full ripeness—not that it needed much coaxing—and, carefully and gently, let the cold metal edges close their bite around it. Isabella let out a little gasp as fierce white pain gripped her, radiating in brilliant beams out of her breast. Frederick rubbed her clit and her body was in thrall. She thrashed as pleasure raced through her, close to orgasm but still on the brink.
The clamps held the flesh captive. Edward attached the second and her other nipple succumbed to its grip.
Isabella could not speak. She merely re
leased the slowest breath of intense contentment.
“Take yer hand away. Let her glory in it fer a time.” Edward almost yanked Frederick’s fingers away from where they were nestled in the dripping warm glove of her cunt.
The two men stepped back and took in the sight of the lady of the house, bound to her own bedpost, her nipples squeezed between biting metal, her cunt crying out.
Isabella could barely focus on them. She was ready to come. Such sweet agony was holding her that she wondered if she would tip over the edge by her thoughts alone. Her body jerked unbidden, desperate for release. She was in pain, she knew that much—her arms ached, her nipples were nearly numb with stricture and her cunt throbbed for cock or fingers or anything it could take. But the pain was a scaffold, a scaffold to the pinnacle of ecstasy they had raised her to. Just a little more.
“I’m goin’ to turn you around, my lady.”
He came over and twisted the scarf holding her so that she was facing outwards. She knew what was to come. Her rump propelled itself towards him instinctively.
The first blow was a mere sting. She heard Fred suck in a breath. The second followed swiftly, evening up the already warm glow of the other cheek.
“Just ten more I reckon tonight, considering what’s to come. Count out loud for me, my lady.” He brought his hand down with a stinging smack.
“One!” she declared.
Another on the other side. Sweet, red pain blending with the brilliant shards still darting from her nipples.
“Two!”
Her vision blurred, but she sensed Frederick nearby, still and silent, staring at the sight of her taking the beating.
The blows continued to rain down. She kept counting, although each word was forced out with more difficulty as the numbers increased.
“Ten!” she groaned as his hand flew down for the last time, leaving her aglow with heat and tenderness.
Edward stepped back, panting, and barked his order to Frederick immediately. “Finish her with yer mouth. Hurry.”
Frederick didn’t hesitate. He fell to his knees, pushed her legs apart and swept his tongue along her sodden slit up to her clit where he sucked and feasted, pulling the swollen flesh hard into his mouth.
