Hyland's Consort

by Felicity Brandon

  “No, Sir.” Dropping my gaze, my fingers linked on my lap.

  “You haven’t forgotten?” He fired the question back at me, demanding I humiliate myself further with the reply.

  “No, Sir.”

  “What then?” Leaning closer, I could feel the weight of his gaze. “What do I expect? What do I need from you?”

  Pulling in a deep breath, I steadied myself, trying to recall all the dreadful lessons he’d told me in that dark room.

  “To be a good wife, Sir.”

  The muscles at the apex of my thighs clenched, acknowledging the conflict warring inside me. I hated that he had this power over me, loathed the man, yet at the same time, his authority was as hot as hell. I knew I was aroused by his show of dominance.

  “How?” he demanded, shifting in his seat to get a better look at me. “How will you demonstrate it?”

  “With obedience.” I clutched the empty glass for support.

  “Obedience, yes.” Leaning back in his chair, he hooked one leg over the other. “And?”

  “Subservience.” I wanted to cry, frustration building until all I could focus on was the glass, on squeezing it until it smashed into a thousand pieces. I was like that glass—perfect as I was, yet Sean insisted on grasping me, on applying pressure until I broke into a million shards of the woman I’d once been. “And silence.”

  I knew the mantra well enough, having been trained to repeat it over and over on my knees in the shadows. Usually, this training occurred just before I was instructed to pay homage to his feet, an act I despised, but Sean seemed to adore. Naturally, like everything in this twisted world, it was designed to degrade me, to remind me of my place—at his feet, always second in line.

  “So, you do remember.”

  Warily, I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

  “In which case, you know the answer to your query.” His eyebrow arched in that taunting way. “You already know why you’re to be gagged.”

  Heat bloomed in my face as he presented me with the so-called facts.

  “Tell me why.” Lifting his coffee to his lips, he waited, lifting his chin as I stumbled for the right words.

  “Because wives do not have opinions.” I was like a robot, drilled to within an inch of my life. Of course, I didn’t believe a word of what I told him. I believed the best relationships were built on two equal partnerships, but that wasn’t what Sean wanted to hear. Unless I gave the appropriate replies, there would be hell to pay, likely the kind of hell that involved being spanked in front of the entire legal office. My breath hitched at the horrifying idea.

  “Correct.” He smiled, gesturing for me to go on. “And.”

  “Wives support their husbands.” I parroted the words. “And do as they’re told.”

  “Very good.” He drained the remainder of his espresso before placing the cup on the tiny saucer. “That is why you will be gagged. You’re here to sign the necessary paperwork, not to make small talk.” Rising from his chair, he clutched the gag in his right hand as he sauntered in my direction. Looming in front of me, I could see the architect of my terror in his fingers, the straps goading as they swung before my eyes.

  “Look at me.”

  Slowly, my gaze rose to meet his.

  “You might not like my approach.” He chuckled as though there was anything vaguely funny about the situation. “And I understand that, but it’s irrelevant. You won’t just be any wife, Hilary.” His free hand stroked under my jaw. “You’ll be my wife.” Burning into me, his smoldering gaze reinforced the point. “Your behavior must be exemplary.”

  Blinking up at him, I realized there was no option. He was going to gag me again, force the thing between my lips and silence me whether or not I liked it. I only had one choice—I could cede and let him without a fuss or fight him, a battle I was certain to lose while drawing more attention to myself. Despondency burgeoned—it was no choice at all.

  “Open up.” He didn’t wait for my consent, waving the damn gag in front of me with the demand. “Let’s get it done.”

  Sean. I sent the plea with my eyes, not daring to say the word aloud. Sean, please. But it was hopeless, as I’d known it would be. His mind was made up, and that was the end of the matter.

  With a heavy heart, my lips parted, and I sat passively as he shoved the ball between them, drawing the straps around the back of my head and securing them.

  “I know you can remove the gag yourself.” He took a step back to consider his handiwork. “So, let me make it clear. If you so much as touch the strap, I will hoist you over my lap and tan your hide, and I don’t care who sees it.” Crouching before me, his eyes widened with defiance. “Am I clear?”

  Nodding my head, I glanced away sadly.

  “Words.” His tone was brusque as he made the unnecessary stipulation.

  “Yes, Sir.” I mouthed around the plastic, my breathing ragged at the appalling sound of my submission.

  “Good.” Satisfied, he rose to his full height, slipping one hand in his pocket.

  Chapter Ten

  Sean

  CRANE KEPT US WAITING longer than I liked, but it gave me time to lay down the ground rules and ensure she was suitably gagged for the meeting. By the time Polly reemerged, Hilary’s face was flaming with embarrassment, her gaze full of desperate entreaties, and my cock ached for relief, but neither of our needs were to be satiated.

  “Mr. Crane is ready for you, sir.” Polly smiled seductively, flicking the strands of her long dark hair back from her face as her gaze wandered to Hilary. Eyes widening, Polly acknowledged the ball now strapped into Hilary’s mouth, but ever the professional, she didn’t comment on the addition.

  “Thank you.”

  Clicking my fingers, I indicated it was time for Hilary to move, and gingerly, she rose to her feet, coming to heel at my side. Frankly, it was generous of me to have permitted her a seat at all, a benefit she wouldn’t be enjoying once we got into Crane’s office, but she wasn’t to know that yet.

  “Can I get you another drink, sir?” Polly smiled as Hilary passed, her bound hand still seizing her empty glass as if her life depended on it.

  “Another espresso would be lovely,” I answered, sliding the glass from Hilary’s fingers and passing it to the young receptionist. “But as you can see, my bride-to-be here won’t be needing another.”

  “I completely understand, sir.” Polly laughed, taking the glass from me. “Please make your way to Mr. Crane’s office, and I’ll bring your coffee through for you.”

  “Fabulous.” I watched as she sashayed away. Polly had nothing on the woman I was going to capture in matrimony, but there was something about her, and I enjoyed the view as she glided from the waiting room. Turning back to my red-faced beauty, I suppressed a grin. “There’s just one more thing you need to make this perfect.”

  Rummaging in my inside pocket, my fingers felt for the leash I’d brought along specifically for this moment. I pulled it free, relishing the expression on Hilary’s face.

  “This is to help you do your job well.” Stepping toward her, I ran the leash through my fingers in front of her face until the metal clip slid between them. I reached for the collar already around her beautiful neck and tugged the D ring forward to connect the two. “Your job, in case you’ve forgotten, is to follow.” I purred the words into her face as the metal slid into place, tracing my fingers back down the black leash to the waiting handle.

  If I’d thought there was a blush on her face before, I must have been fooling myself. Hilary’s cheeks were so red, they could have stopped traffic, but then so could Hilary. She was red hot in her tiny dress, bound hands, and gag, and the leash was the icing on her perfectly formed cake. Fleetingly, I considered filming this moment, so I could relive it, but there was little time, and I knew the closed-circuit television in Crane’s office would do that for me. I would request a copy for my own perusal another time.

  “Follow me.” Tugging the end of the leash, I moved away, com
pelling Hilary to do the same. Turning out of the room, I strode off at my usual pace, glancing back at her attempt to keep up. Naturally, the heels I’d put her in weren’t helping, but they made her arse look fantastic. Glimpsing around the place, I realized I wasn’t the only one enjoying her performance. Men and women looked up from their desks as she passed by, smiling at her show or meeting it with wide-eyed wonder. I was willing to bet Crane’s staff had never seen anything like it.

  “Here we are!” I practically sang the words as we approached Crane’s office, yanking on her leash when she slowed. Pausing at his door, I waited, reveling in her utter dismay as I shook my head. “Not a very graceful effort,” I chided, jerking her toward me.

  Her eyes were wild with the humiliation, darting left and right to see if people were still staring, which of course, they were.

  “Must. Do. Better.” I enunciated the words into her hair, tenderly kissing the top of her forehead. “Or you know what will happen, don’t you, Hilary?” Drawing away a fraction, I propped up her chin with my free hand, ensuring there was nowhere else to look except at me—nowhere for her to hide.

  “Yes, Sir.” She nodded against my fingertip, her consonants wonderfully blurred as she struggled to speak around the gag, but the frantic energy in her gaze assured me she understood my meaning. If she didn’t impress me, I would follow through with my threat and spank her right there in the middle of the office, then roll up the skirt of her dress and ensure her bared, spanked backside was on display for every passing set of eyes. If she let me down again, it would be no more than she deserved.

  “Come then.” Spinning on my heel, I eased the door to Crane’s office open and encouraged her inside. “Good morning.”

  “Mr. Hyland.” Crane rose from his chair, peering over his spectacles at me. “Good morning.”

  I noticed the moment he spotted Hilary, his nostrils flaring as he took her in, yet it was his cool professional persona that won out.

  “This must be Miss Mantle?”

  “Yes.” Tugging her forward, I positioned her in front of his desk beside one of the large chairs he’d readied for our arrival. “You’ll have to excuse her, Mr. Crane. She’s not able to respond properly at the moment.”

  “So, I see.” Crane smiled wryly, his gaze dragging over her. Any other man slowly enjoying the sight of Hilary would have vexed me but not Crane. He was as inoffensive as they came and even better, a bloody good lawyer. He knew the law and how to get around it. “Please, sit down.”

  “I will, thanks.” Wandering to the nearest seat, I relaxed into it. “But Hilary won’t require a chair.”

  Crane’s lips twitched. “As you wish.” His attention turned to the pile of papers, and I took the opportunity to address the leashed woman at my side.

  “Kneel.” Only one word and one she must surely have been expecting, but it sent fire to my blood, swelling my already excited cock.

  Inhaling through her nostrils, she lowered to one knee before settling on both, her gaze lowering as she accepted her fate.

  “Is that what Hilary is here to sign?” I took the bull by the horns, gesturing toward the papers in Crane’s hands.

  “Yes, sir,” he replied matter-of-factly, as though bound women often knelt in his office. “I think it best if you remove the cuffs for this part. I need legible signatures.” His tone was sardonic, and obligingly, I snickered in response.

  “Of course,” I agreed, reaching to undo her right wrist. “Don’t mind our dynamic. I appreciate it’s a little unorthodox, but it’s what works for us.”

  She mewled as if she dared to have anything to say about the matter, but one glare from me soon commanded silence.

  “It’s not my place to judge, sir.” His tone was weary, as though he had seen just about everything pass through his doors over the years. It was possible it was true. Crane was ancient and had been working with Zander since before I was born. “But I do have to speak to Miss Mantle to make sure she understands what she’s signing.”

  His stare landed on her, the scrutiny ensuring her face burned even brighter with embarrassed shame. I beamed with pride at her discomfort. If I knew anything about the woman I’d been tormenting, she’d be incredibly aroused by the way I’d treated her. She’d detest me for it and was no doubt plotting my demise, but if I was to run a finger over her pussy lips, I suspected I’d find her soaking. It was as if the woman had no conception of what turned her on until she ran into me in the coffee shop.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I assured Crane, releasing her wrists and dropping the cuffs to the carpet below. “I have been through this with her already. She understands.”

  “Be that as it may,” he went on in that dreary monotonic voice, which seemed to be his trademark. “It’s still my job to do so again.”

  “Fine,” I sighed, signaling toward Hilary. “Go ahead, but first, Hilary will strip.”

  She turned her head, her gaze drilling into me, as Crane protested.

  “There’s no need for nudity, Mr. Hyland.”

  I wanted to laugh at how awkward this situation was for him. Evidently, Zander had lulled poor Crane into a false sense of security about the Hyland way of life. More fool him, but I wasn’t making the same mistake.

  “Please, Mr. Crane.” I lifted my palm, guaranteeing their attention in one fell swoop. “Like your paperwork, it is necessary.”

  Leaning back in his chair, the older man regarded me. I could see the cogs turning in his eyes, recognition I might be an impertinent prick, but I was a rich one and his paying customer. If there was one thing Crane’s office prided themselves on, it was their exceptional customer service.

  “So, be it.” He nodded, the only sign of his consent. “I shall continue as if she was dressed.”

  “I would expect no less.” I smiled, turning back to the blonde trembling at my feet. “You heard me, little one. Remove the dress.”

  Breath ragged, her chest rose and fell, her eyes conveying how hysterical she was about the idea.

  “Now, please.” My tone was firm, confirming I not only intended to make sure she was naked during the rest of the meeting, but I expected her to strip herself.

  Time protracted as her liberated hands reached for the hem of her dress. For one fleeting moment, she paused, and I wondered if she would try something silly like running for the door. Gazes locked, I could see her considering the attempt, her eyes flitting to the large wooden exit behind us as her knees fidgeted on the carpet.

  “Hilary.” I arched a brow, a reminder of the penance waiting if she delayed further, and as if the tiny gesture had broken the spell, her fingers tightened. Pulling the blue fabric, she lifted it over her head, revealing her toned body as she yanked the dress free.

  “Good.” Stretching out my palm, I waited for her to deposit the garment there. “Now, face the front and hands laced behind your head as you listen to Mr. Crane.”

  Throwing me a withering glower, she shifted toward the ancient lawyer as she lifted her hands, placing them in her hair at the back of her head.

  “Miss Mantle.” Crane began as if she wasn’t nude and kneeling on his floor. “You understand you’re here today to read and sign papers pertaining to your forthcoming marriage.” Peering over his glasses, his brow rose as he considered her gagged mouth. “Perhaps you should just nod if you understand.”

  Sniggering at the interplay, I glanced back to Hilary, relishing the curve of her breasts and her desperate countenance, the very definition of my blushing bride-to-be—experienced enough to handle my depravity but still innocent enough to be shocked at the depths of my desire.

  Hilary was flawless.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hilary

  I WASN’T LISTENING to anything the old man was saying, couldn’t focus on a single point he made. As his gaze flitted from my burning face back to the papers he clung to so avidly, all I could think about was the shame. The shame of being seen this way by someone old enough to be my grandfather, the indign
ity of my position, being leashed and led around as if I were nothing but chattel, and how, as he stared at me quivering on my knees, this stranger was prepared to comply. Why wasn’t he querying my predicament with Sean? Why wasn’t he putting a stop to things and calling the police? He was a professional, wasn’t he? Didn’t he owe me some duty of care?

  “Hilary.”

  I tensed at Sean’s stern tone, glancing left to find him scowling. What the hell was wrong with him now? I was the one naked and gagged, completely debased in the office of a swanky solicitor, yet he was the one with the attitude?

  “Did you hear what Mr. Crane said?”

  Dumbly, I nodded my agreement, even though I had no clue what he had said, and frankly, I cared even less. Mortified at my excruciating dilemma, I was rightly more concerned about the part of me that didn’t want to claw Sean’s eyes out, the part of me wetter and hornier than ever. Being dressed down, treated as a second-rate citizen, and humiliated was awful. I despised the eyes on me as he led me around like a dog, the pointing fingers and the giggling responses as my shame was laid bare for all of them to witness, but I also bloody loved it. A fresh swell of arousal surged at the awareness, fogging my brain until it was impossible to think. I could see Crane’s lips moving, blabbering on about Sean’s assets, but none of it registered beyond superficial acceptance of the lecture—another thing I had to endure.

  “We’ll need your signature to prove agreement on all these points.” Crane pushed the paperwork across his desk. “Mr. Hyland, if you wouldn’t mind showing Miss Mantle?”

  “Of course.” Reaching for the papers, Sean grabbed the nearest fountain pen and thrust them at me. “Hands down. You need to sign where Mr. Crane has marked an ‘X’ at the end of each page.”

  I blinked at him as he threw the pile of papers onto the floor in front of me. Did he seriously expect me to sign? I hadn’t been paying attention to their significance, but no doubt there was nothing in the stack that did anything to protect my interests. No one else here was interested in those.