The Obedient Wife
Delilah Devlin
Copyright © 2015 Delilah Devlin
Kindle Edition
Find out what really happened between The Beauty and The Beast. Hint: It’s not your children’s fairytale!
This is a 5000-word erotic short story. It may be short in length, but it’s not short in passion!
For more short stories by Delilah Devlin, check out:
Big Brass Buckle
Love in Bloom
Night at the Wax Museum
One Track Cowboy
Red Dawn
And coming soon:
Catnip
Drive Me Crazy
Dr. Mullaley’s Cure
Dreaming By the Sea
Long Ride Home
Pitch Black
From the Author
To those of you who’ve read me before—hello, friends! To new readers, welcome to my world!
As you’ll discover, I tend to bounce around in different genres, from contemporary to paranormal and sci-fi—all are very sexy, so be warned. I also write in many lengths from short story to full-length novel. If you can’t tell, I love to write. And when a story is fast, it’s short. If my characters need more pages, well, you get the picture. I’m a slave to my muses (I have three—or so three different psychics have told me!).
I love hearing from readers, have a very active blog and Facebook friend page. I run contests, talk about my favorite TV shows, what I collect, what drives me crazy. I ramble a bit. I’m doing it right now. But if you’d like to learn more about me and what I’m doing or writing about, be sure to check out the “About Delilah Devlin” page after the story.
And if you enjoy this story, please consider leaving a review on your favorite retail site or simply tell a friend. Readers do influence other readers. We have to trust someone to tell us whether we’ll have fun when we open a new story!
Sincerely,
Delilah Devlin
Visit www.DelilahDevlin for more titles and release dates
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Table of Contents
Title Page
About The Obedient Wife
From the Author
The Obedient Wife
About Delilah Devlin
Excerpt from Wet Down
The Obedient Wife
‡
Once there was a miller who had no sons to labor in his mill or assure him comfort in his old age. His wife had died long ago, giving him only a puny baby girl, whose worth didn’t become apparent until she blossomed into a woman.
For then, her beauty stole the sunshine from the sky to sparkle in her red-gold hair. The birds grew mute when her lovely voice trilled. No truer blue or rosy hue could match the color of her eyes or soft, round cheeks.
To keep safe his only treasure, the miller locked her away inside their cottage while he considered how best to reap the rewards of his good fortune. When the time came for her to wed, he sent a message to the village, offering up his precious daughter for enough gold to see to his comforts for the remainder of his days.
His announcement met with loud guffaws from the townspeople. For how could a scrawny, ugly man such as himself sire a creature worth the gold he demanded?
When no one offered him his fortune, he let one townsman inside his home to peer upon his bonny daughter.
The man eyed her comely face, touched her soft hair, but declared that her body must be misshapen and demanded to see more before he contemplated offering her bride price.
Now, the daughter was no fool. She knew her father meant to sell her to the highest bidder, but she’d spent her entire life inside her tiny house and longed to see more of the world, well beyond the confines of their small village.
So while she was willing to remove her gown and allow the townsman to look upon her naked flesh, she lashed out with a viperous tongue, letting him know she’d make the man who married her a miserable cuckold.
Despite her outburst, more men came, offering her father gold, fine linens, and furnishings to ogle her—enough riches to see to the peasant’s comfort throughout his old age. For a time, he was content to simply let the town’s men look while his fortune continued to increase.
However, while he counted his money, his daughter waited and watched for she was blessed with more than a stunning face and figure. Her mind whirled with exciting possibilities, and a plan began to form.
The daughter played upon her father’s avarice, asking him why he should lower his sights to the townspeople when lords in neighboring demesnes would be willing to offer so much more. Upon hearing this suggestion, the father eagerly set out to spread the word about his beauteous daughter, careful to avoid the subject of her temperament.
While he was gone, the daughter continued to allow the men to visit, offering more to the married men among them than just the sight of her bounteous curves, for she knew the married men would keep their silence.
As she sank her mouth down the long slippery shaft of the barkeep, she counted in her head the coin she’d made, secure in the belief that only a few more days of service would provide her enough to buy her way to a port where she could sail to the edge of the world if she so desired.
“Aye, you’ve a talented mouth,” the swineherd murmured, catching her hair at the back of her neck and forcing her to take him deeper in her mouth. “But I’d pay more for the use of yer hot quim, girl.”
She bit down, unmindful of his howls, and came off his long shaft. “Should that fool of a father find me a rich husband, I will need to be a virgin.”
The smithy, whose fat cock she stroked with her fist, patted her bottom. “There are other places a man can stick that a husband will never discover.” He named a price, which made her eyes light up with greed, and she turned her bottom toward him, happily gobbling at the pig herder’s cock while the smithy pushed his into her arse.
The moist sounds their bodies made and their agonized groans as they found their pleasure excited the young woman, for the longer she withheld their pleasure, the more they were willing to pay for the release she offered. And though her jaw constantly ached, her hands felt as rheumy as an old woman’s, and her arse was too sore for her to sit, she took her own pleasure in the tinkling of the gold coins that spilled into her secret stash.
While the daughter plotted her escape, her father traveled far and wide, seeking a suitor with deep pockets. When he approached a particularly wealthy village, he asked for the name of the richest among them. He was led to a castle deep in the wood, situated atop a small berg.
He ignored the fact his guide wouldn’t draw near the iron gate, thinking the lord who owned this keep must indeed be important to instill such awe. The grounds inside were immaculate but deserted, but he didn’t worry. Perhaps the castlefolk were working in faraway fields or seeing to the evening meal. Glancing around, he noted the tall crenellated walls, the huge stone facade. It was a fine place, fit for his beautiful daughter. He could well imagine himself sitting before a large hearth, drinking ale, while servants hovered to keep his cup full.
The sky above darkened, casting a pall over the bailey, the shadows cast by the crenellated walls looking like a long row of sharp teeth. A frisson of unease crept over him for he was alone and far from home, and he didn’t know a soul in this region who would care whether he came to harm in this mysterious place. But recalling his mission, he gathered up his courage and approached the door. He pounded on the thick oak, and then trembled when it creaked open, for a creature, not quite man nor all beast, opened the door.
“Sir,” the miller said timidly staring at his furry face, �
��I seek the wealthy man who owns this keep.”
“What business have you with him?” came the surly response in a deep growling voice.
The miller swallowed a lump of fear that lodged in his throat to chirp, “I’ve a treasure to offer.”
The beast stroked his hairy jaw. “Just what is the nature of this treasure?”
The miller recalled the words he’d repeated countless times on his journey. “I offer the fairest woman in this land. A girl so beauteous even the roses bow to her when she passes.”
“Is the girl obedient?” the beast asked in an even tone.
The father cleared his throat. “She is as fair as the sun and moon.”
“Does she obey?”
The miller grew nervous beneath the beast’s sharp gaze. “She sings sweeter than a sparrow,” he said, as his hand traced imaginary notes in the air.
“Will she accept a husband’s command?”
The father fought the quaver in his voice and said crankily, “I have told you she is perfect in every way.”
The creature eyed him, and then smiled, revealing enormous teeth that made the old man’s knees weaken.
“Bring her to me. If she is everything you promise, you will have your price.”
Giddy with success, the old man returned to his village, riding his old horse triumphantly through the streets.
“Miller, did you find a husband for that girl?” the smithy’s stout wife shouted out from her window.
“A finer lord cannot be found.”
The swineherd’s wife passed him, giving him a narrow-eyed glare. “Will that girl of yers be leaving soon, old man?”
“She will, and she shall live like a princess in a castle.”
“More fool’s the lord who takes her,” the woman muttered under her breath.
The miller paid the woman no mind, convinced she spoke from jealousy because of the perfection that was his child. When he returned home, he slammed open the door and called to his daughter.
A loud crash sounded inside the cottage, and she arrived at the door looking disheveled, her lips reddened and her skirts askew.
“Did I wake you, sweetling?” her father asked.
She glanced over her shoulder, and then offered him a hesitant smile. “So, you’re back. Did you find success in your journey?”
Her father grabbed her hands and nearly jumped, so great was his joy. “I’ve secured a fortune for you, girl.”
She rolled her eyes and quickly ushered him out of the house. “We must head to town to buy new gowns. How can I greet my husband in these rags?”
While giving him a distracting smile, she waved her hand behind her, confusing the old man. “Is there a fly bothering you?”
She smiled wider and waved her hand behind her again. A sound like a wild boar crashing through the brush behind the cottage drew his attention from her strange behavior.
Frowning, he said, “We needn’t bother with shopping. Your husband will take you as you are. I’ve arranged a wagon, and this day we will begin our journey back.”
And so it was that the miller’s daughter traveled to the faraway village in the mountains. All along the way, her excitement grew. The lands they passed were rich and verdant, the village prosperous—stone houses with two to three floors above ground stretched upward; the square was lively and full of carts filled with silks of every color and exotic foods that made her mouth water. Surely a clever woman such as herself would find a way to escape her father’s arrangement and add to the fortune sewn into the hem of her heavy skirt.
To her disappointment, they passed through the village and up a steep path, through a forest so thick the sunlight couldn’t penetrate its foliage. When at last they entered the bailey of a large keep, her heart thudded. The stone was as gray as dusk. The bailey, though grand, was empty, desolate. Dismay began to leach away her happy mood at the thoughts of her grand adventure.
The miller warned her as they approached the great keep’s door. “Keep your words to yourself until he has paid.”
The daughter smiled, nodding her assent, but she prepared a speech sure to wilt the lord’s enthusiasm for this bargain. If need be, she already had enough gold to see her way to the coast.
The door swung open on creaking hinges, and every word she’d rehearsed flew from her mind, because a great hairy beast dressed in trousers and boots, and nothing more, filled up the door. “This be the girl?” the beast rumbled.
The daughter shivered at the deep, warm sound, unsure whether it was pleasure or fear, and also unsure which excited her more.
The miller smiled, pride lifting his chest. “This is the treasure I offer you.”
The beast turned to the side. “Come in. I would see whether the rest of her is as lovely as her face.”
The daughter stepped quickly inside, her heartbeats thudding against her chest. As the door closed behind her, she slowly drew the heavy gown over her head. Standing naked beneath the creature’s dark glare, for the first time in her life, she felt a curling heat settle in her belly and moisture slide down her thighs.
With quick inhalations, the beast sniffed the air around her and trailed a claw along her shoulder. While he stood behind her, she could have sworn he licked her neck, and she trembled with the need for release from the sudden tightness of her quim.
After a long, tense moment, the beast snorted and strode toward a chest from which he hefted a large bag of gold. He handed it to her father and ushered him to the door.
“B-but I would stay for the wedding!” her father stammered, glancing backward.
“Do you want the gold?” the beast asked, his voice deepening in warning.
Her father gulped and clutched the bag to his chest and fled.
Alone with her new husband, the miller’s daughter felt a thrilling desire war with sudden fear. Would he ravish her or eat her?
The beast turned slowly, stepping onto her gown, his long talons tearing at the fabric. “Is the air warm enough for you, my dear?”
Although she shivered, she nodded her head.
“Then you will have no need for your gown.” He walked away toward a long, stone staircase that hugged the wall of the large, open hall.
Although her fortune was lying in shreds on the floor, she was unwilling to be left in the drafty shadows below, so she scrambled after him.
He paid her no heed as she wheezed, following him up and up to a tower room. Once inside, he set a large timber against the latch, locking them inside, then turned to stare. “Are you afraid of me?” he asked, no inflection in his voice to hint at his intentions.
Remembering who she was—a beautiful woman, not a timid mouse—she tossed back her hair. “Should I be?”
His eyes blinked, and then a glower pulled his thick brows together, and he approached. “You stand naked and unashamed. Are you not a virgin?”
The miller’s daughter gave silent thanks she still was. Feeling virtuous for her good foresight, she lifted her chin. “My woman’s furrow has never been plowed, milord.”
“And yet you do not blush.”
“Shouldn’t I be proud of my beauty? And since you will be my husband, ’tis your right to gaze upon my naked flesh.”
He grunted, and then lifted his chin toward the narrow bed in the center of the room. “I would have you rest now. I’ll come to you in the darkness.”
“But what about now? Don’t you want…?”
A brow arched over his black eyes.
She could have sworn a smile crimped one corner of his lips.
“In darkness. Do not light a candle. I will be most unhappy if you do.”
Her face falling with disappointment, she nodded, and then flopped down on the edge of the bed. “But I’m not tired.”
The beast hesitated at the door. “Would you like…company…before you sleep?” he asked, his voice gruff.
Her eyes widened and heat filled her cheeks. “Yes, milord…if it is your pleasure.”
“The miller did not lie,
” he murmured.
“My father is not clever enough to lie,” she blurted, then pressed her lips together for fear of revealing more of her true nature than she already had. Her obeisance seemed to please him. So she sat silently, eyeing him, wondering what form his offer of company might take.
The beast strode toward her, and then stood silently, eyeing her.
Keeping her gaze modestly pinned to his boots, she wondered what he saw and whether he appreciated her face and form. And then she wondered if she might tempt him because her desire was overtaking her good sense. Plus, she was mightily curious about how a beast took a wife.
He sniffed and a low growl rumbled. “Do you desire me?” he asked, with hint of incredulity in his voice.
Perhaps the women here weren’t as adventurous. “You will be my husband. Shouldn’t I feel desire?”
“I am unaccustomed to inspiring anything but fear.”
“How did you guess I desire you?”
“Your scent. It’s…intoxicating.”
She’d been called many things, but never that. Flattered, she offered a little smile. “I will admit to curiosity about what will happen between us tonight.” She eyed him from beneath her thick lashes. “If you would, could you assuage a little of my…anxiety?”
Suddenly, he went to his knees. “Open your legs to me and fall back.”
Surprised by his crude command, she obeyed, opening her thighs then resting on her elbows.
Her breath held as one long, wicked-looking claw gently traced the edges of her folds. She wondered if curiosity had led her into grave danger. How could he see to her pleasure if he opened her flesh with a talon? Her body stiffened.
“I’ll not harm you, sweetling.”
She relaxed and closed her eyes, her breath catching at the shocking stroke of his tongue. Her quim clenched, and he drew back. Then he lifted her thighs and placed them over his broad hairy shoulders, lifting her bottom from the mattress.
When his mouth began to suckle her folds, liquid gushed to greet his tongue. “I’m sorry.”
The Obedient Wife (an erotic short story) Page 1
