Bound by Bliss

by Lavinia Kent

  Temple seemed more sober by the moment, but clearly not more open to reason.

  “I really do not want to be here with you.” She had to try one more time, regardless.

  “You have to say that. I know even here you need to pretend to be good and innocent.”

  “But, I am. I am still a virgin, untouched.”

  He gave her a look that let her know very clearly what he thought of that.

  “I am. And my father will be very upset.”

  Temple showed no response to that.

  “And Lord Duldon. He will not take kindly to this.”

  Temple did respond to that, but not in a good way. “Bloody ass. Always telling me to leave you alone, like you belonged to him, like I wasn’t good enough for you. I knew you didn’t feel the same. You wanted me. I could tell by the way you looked at me. And then last time when you wanted to play, wanted me to think that you wanted to escape. I knew you were only playing hard to get. But then I saw you with him. Why did you let him touch you like that?”

  Bliss yanked against the metal cuffs, hard. She could not believe this was happening to her, not now—not when…when…God, why had she fled from Stephan? Why had she run from everything that she wanted?

  Taking the chance to glance about the room, she looked up. The cuffs that held her hands were attached to a chain that ran up to a bolt in the ceiling. Who had a bolt in the ceiling other than to hang hams in the kitchen? She shuddered at the images that placed in her mind. She did not need to think of herself as a piece of meat.

  “Answer me.” Temple was growing impatient.

  What exactly had Temple seen? She knew she could not let him think she preferred Duldon to him, that she actually found him distasteful. “I didn’t let him touch me. He just did. But I didn’t want to let you catch me either. I truly am not that kind of girl.”

  She looked about, trying to think of any way to make the man see sense, any way to make him release her. The room was very similar to the one she shared with Duldon, although perhaps not as fine. One of the wardrobes stood half-open and she could see the shine of metal and a hint of dark leather within. Leather? She peered more closely. A whip? Her eyes flew to the crop that Temple had somehow kept as he bundled her into the room. She was not going to think about that until she had to, surely Temple could not truly mean to…She pulled at the chains again.

  She swallowed once and then tried to make her mouth form words. “Why are you…?”

  He cut her off, “I think I should make you ask for permission to speak. I believe that is how these things are done. Does Duldon make you ask and beg?”

  Why did he keep speaking of Stephan in such a manner? She blocked that thought from her mind also. More immediate worries beckoned. She would try playing his game and see if she could delay things. This surely could not go on for long. “May I please speak?” She had not meant to sound so polite.

  “May I please speak, Master?” he corrected. “Didn’t Duldon teach you any manners?”

  Master? A half-memory of Stephan joking about the word flitted through her mind. Call Lord Temple Master? No. Never. Only she was not a fool—and had spent enough years fighting with her brothers to know when to lose the battle and think of the war. “May I please speak, Master?” she said the words with extra sugary sweetness.

  “I will allow it for the moment.” He leaned over and picked up the crop, slapped it idly against his thigh. He was enjoying the role he had chosen for himself. And then his eyes again locked on her bosom in a most unpleasant manner. “But do not try my patience.”

  “Why are you doing this? Surely you would have more fun with somebody else, with one of Madame Rouge’s girls. I am afraid I truly don’t understand—Master.” She added the last as she saw his face begin to darken.

  “What is there to understand? I was alone with no one to play with and then there you were. I could not mistake the joy you have taken in our game. I know you wanted me to find you the other night. You wanted me. You still want me. Although you did take it too far the other night and I can only think you are trying to make me punish you. That is the game you like, is it not?”

  “No, I do not like this game.” She tried to speak firmly, to hide the quaver in her voice, lest he mistake it for anything but fear.

  “Girls always take persuading.” He smiled again.

  Was the man insane? She began to fear that he might be. Surely no reasoning man could mistake her refusal for invitation.

  “Please let me go.” It seemed hopeless, but what could she do but try?

  “I wish you would quit saying that. I know you don’t mean it. Why would you have run into the hallway if you weren’t looking for me? No, don’t answer. I know the truth. Now, how to begin? Normally I start when the girls are already naked in the bed—and we’re not doing anything but a simple fuck, or sometimes she uses her mouth. I do like mouths. How does Duldon start?”

  God, he did have a preoccupation with Stephan. Her mind spun as she tried to find the right tack to take. “Duldon likes of the joy of anticipation. He wants me to wait and wonder what it will all feel like. He wants to be sure that my whole focus is on him when it happens. He believed the longer I waited the more I would feel it, would know what it meant.”

  Temple pursed his lips. “I can perhaps understand that.” The slap of the crop against his thigh belayed his words.

  Think. Think. Think. “He likes to play with me first, to stare at me and just watch me. He knows how excited I get just being watched, the things it does to my body.”

  Temple’s eyes had grown dark, and his breath shallow; perhaps this was not the right road to take. She hadn’t meant to get the man excited, not that he hadn’t been already.

  The crop stilled, and then began a slow steady tap. “You do look delicious hanging there. The ideas it puts in my head. Should I strip you bare? I rather think I should. Yes, I can see the pleasure that might exist in just watching. I could even pull you up a little higher. Would you like that?”

  The man was deranged. There was no denying it. He actually thought this is what she wanted.

  A deep knot of terror grew in her belly. She should have been more afraid from the moment she’d been shoved through the door, but only now did the full implications of what he might do settle upon her. Should she scream again? How much noise could she make before he could gag her? The bolt that held her to the ceiling was far enough from any of the wardrobes that he’d have to leave her free for a few seconds at least while he fetched the gag. Her eyes moved from the wardrobes to her feet, considering.

  “Are you wondering what I am going to do to you? Are you feeling the anticipation?” Temple took a step closer. He clearly did not have Stephan’s patience for just watching and waiting.

  Lowering her eyes, she did her best to ignore him. Should she scream?

  “Should I tell you?” he continued, reaching out a finger and running it across the top of her breasts.

  Why was it so different when he touched her and when Stephan touched her? “Yes, Master.” It was best to know so that she could plan.

  He smiled with satisfaction, but then his gaze locked on the edge of her bodice where the pink of her nipple was showing through.

  “I see that Duldon has been playing. I think I’d like to play too.” He reached out and pulled the bodice down, pulling her chemise with it. “Very, very pretty. You really do like games.”

  Against her will Bliss found her own gaze settling on her breast, on the milky white flesh marred with dark pink circles where the wax had fallen and on the nipple, so tight and peaked and swollen.

  “I do believe you do want me, want me badly.” He flicked the nipple with his fingertips.

  A low moan escaped—and not one of pleasure.

  Lord Temple made a little sound of his own and then: “You can scream if that’s what you want. The walls are thick and the people are used to screams. I’ve heard them before even if I’ve never caused them.”

  Did he ac
tually sound like he wanted her to scream?

  She would not if she could help it. Noise clearly only increased whatever pleasure the man was finding in all of this—and it would not bring help unless Stephan heard her. Was he still asleep? Did he even know she was gone? If she wasn’t careful then fear would begin to rule her. She had to keep faith, faith in Stephan, faith in herself.

  Why had she left him? And it was not only her desire for safety that had her asking that question; with so much suddenly at risk, she was forced to wonder what she really wanted, what she really feared. Why was she not reaching for what she wanted, instead of running from it?

  Temple stepped back then, drawing her attention, and walked to a small table set against one wall. A crystal decanter and used glass sat upon it. He picked up the decanter, emptying it into the glass. It filled it halfway. His eyes stared at the liquid with every bit as much interest as he’d stared at her. “Damn. I was waiting too long for my lady friend to come. I will have to get more.” He downed the glass in a single swallow, the scent of cheap brandy filling the room.

  He walked to the door and grabbed the pull located beside it. A few good yanks and he turned back to her.

  He stared for a moment, his eyes barely moving from her swollen nipple. His tongue poked out, slicking his lips.

  She turned her head away, closed her eyes, and prayed.

  The clump of his boots led to one of the wardrobes.

  She squeezed her eyes tighter.

  The clump led back.

  “What do you think you do with this? Do you think it would be fun to use?”

  With dread roiling in her belly, Bliss opened her eyes and stared.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  She was gone. Duldon wasn’t sure why it surprised him, but it did. He rolled over in the bed and stared about the room. There was not a trace of her left behind. Wait. No, there were three hairpins sitting on the table, another on the floor. A deep blue ribbon ran out from beneath one of the pillows. Her mask, he had no idea how it had gotten there. What had they done with it when they’d pulled it off?

  He pulled on the ribbon, watching as the dark satin of the mask slipped out from beneath the pillow. The ribbon curled about his finger, cool and slick. He lifted the ribbon in the air, the mask dangling. A soft floral scent wafted in the air. Lilac. That was it. It should not have taken him so long to identify it. The gardens at home had been filled with the scent each spring.

  Leaning forward, he breathed deep. Gardens. Rich spring gardens when the world was full of life and potential, when everything was just beginning. It suited her. He could picture her dancing and twirling in his gardens. He couldn’t wait to share them with her again.

  Swinging his body up in the bed, he let his legs dangle over the edge.

  God, he felt satisfied. He hadn’t even truly had Bliss yet, and he felt better than he had in years.

  She’d said yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

  And of her own free will—or at least nearly so. He had to admit he’d used some of his more persuasive powers. He couldn’t help but grin at the thought. He couldn’t wait to do it again. But, even so, in his experience, those moments when pain and pleasure brought a woman to such a vulnerable state were when the truth leaked out.

  And Bliss had said yes.

  He wished she’d stayed to celebrate, but he found his surprise changing to acceptance. She’d needed time to think, to reach an understanding of what had happened between them. His toes slid along the floor and he rose to standing, reaching high in a long stretch. He felt so rested. He hoped the hour wasn’t too late. That might also explain the flight of his bride-to-be. It would be hard to explain to her family if she arrived home after the maids were up. He should have been more careful. He hated the thought of her wandering alone about London.

  Not that she’d be alone. He’d spoken to Ruby about the matter earlier and made it very clear that if Bliss decided to leave on her own, Ruby was to have one of her young footmen, all former pugilists, accompany or follow her. He would never risk putting Bliss in danger.

  He hoped she wasn’t furious this morning. He would not have been a bit surprised if he’d been awoken by her small fists, or even one of her slippers, beating him about the head. His Bliss did have a temper. He wished she’d given him the chance to soothe it and then perhaps he could have found an appropriate punishment for her actions.

  She did like her punishment; she melted softer than butter once she realized she had no control.

  He had a feeling she’d been fighting to take care of herself for far too long. It was time for her to simply relax and let him shoulder the burden for a while. Although he imagined that Bliss was not yet ready to hear any such words. He fancied that she was still steaming at the ears, unable to believe what she had agreed to, unable to face her real desires.

  His face sobered at the thought. He had a long way to go in persuading her not to be afraid of love and commitment, in persuading her to trust him, in persuading her that he would always be there for her.

  Reaching over to the neat pile of his garments, he found his pants and pulled them on.

  He would find Ruby and ask where his kitten had run off to. He imagined it was home, but he wanted to waste no time in wrongful pursuit this morning. They needed to talk. Bliss needed to know there was no escape from the words she’d said last night, and then they needed to find Swanston and the duke.

  It was time to start planning a wedding.

  —

  Bliss stared in horror at the long brass pinchers. What they were for, she had no idea, but she knew it would hurt, hurt a great deal.

  As she watched, Temple tightened the end and they opened slightly, revealing small sharp teeth, teeth clearly designed to dig into flesh. Into her flesh.

  She swallowed.

  Or at least tried to. Her mouth was suddenly too dry. Instead she choked.

  “You like them, do you?” Temple smiled with what could only be described as glee. A certain boyishness clung to him and it made the moment all the more disturbing. “I wasn’t sure—they look painful—but then you apparently like pain. I am willing if you are.”

  He opened the evil-toothed jaws wide and then let them close, turning a little screw with his thumb. “Is there someplace special you think I should put them?”

  Yes, there was, but she very much doubted he’d willingly comply. Anger was beginning to churn along with the terror, deep in her gut. From the first time her brothers had tied her to a tree in a game of pirates being helpless eventually just left her mad—and she was reaching that point, quickly.

  “What do you think about your right nipple? Duldon has left it so pretty and red for me, so perfectly swollen. Look what the thought does to me.” He thrust out his hips, his swollen cock unmistakable.

  She wanted to vomit all over the front of his trousers.

  It was so hard not to struggle, not to betray her thoughts. She had to think. If she couldn’t dissuade Temple she had to find a way to delay matters. If she could just hold him off long enough Stephan would come. He would not let her down.

  And then, as if reading her mind, Temple stomped over to his empty glass, picked it up, and slammed it back down. “Where is that girl with more brandy? I want another drink.” He glared at Bliss as if daring her to do something about it.

  She swallowed. He was scary enough when merely lustful. She did not wish him angry. “Perhaps you could yank the pull again, Master.” She enunciated the last word as carefully as possible.

  “I don’t want to wait. Blast. I’ll go myself. Give you some of that anticipation you so desire.” He took a step toward her, ran the pointed end of the pinchers across her breast.

  She bit down on her lip at the slice of pain. Even without looking down she knew that he’d pierced her skin.

  He seemed frozen for a moment, staring down at her.

  Fighting to keep her breath even, she followed his gaze. A thin line of blood welled high on the pale flesh.

  An
d Temple liked it. There could be no mistaking that—it was not merely drunkenness that had him in this mood for cruel play.

  He walked to the wide bed and gently laid the pinchers on the end, directly in her line of sight. “I won’t be gone too long. Keep thinking of all the fun we shall have.”

  She heard the click as he unlocked the door. Heard it open. Heard him step through. And then nothing.

  Had he not locked it again? It was certainly possible that he hadn’t thought of it. Or perhaps he merely thought the cuffs would hold her secure. It wasn’t like she could escape metal cuffs.

  Her head fell forward, and the cold of defeat eased in around her. If she screamed, even if she was heard, nobody would come. Everyone would think it was one more game. And even if she was rescued, what then? If this did not become a full scandal, there was still no chance it would stay quiet. Men were no more discreet than women; whispers would spread. She would be ruined, never marry, never have children.

  That thought should have filled her with relief, but instead she felt only sadness, deep sadness. A few hours ago she’d still been wishing for an escape from marriage, and now…An image of Stephan standing in the sunshine, surrounded by an armful of little towheads, filled her mind, and she felt hopeless tears rise up.

  And what if she truly was ruined? She would never have thought it of Temple, but these last minutes had shown her that he was not at all as she expected.

  But then who was?

  A shiver took her. Could this really happen? Could all her dreams, dreams she had not even known she had, be over?

  And what were those dreams?

  She had said yes to Stephan. Was it possible that was what she really wanted? Had she said yes because she wanted to, not because he had forced her?