Innocence Enslaved (12 page)

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Authors: Maddie Taylor,Melody Parks

BOOK: Innocence Enslaved
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Emilia jumped out of bed as she heard the thump of boots on the stairs. Pulling the sheet off the bed, she wrapped it around herself to conceal her thin nightgown and stood in the corner as six stout young men brought in two large buckets apiece and poured all but one into the lined wood and copper tub. Once they left, Alice sprinkled a handful of fragrant herbs in the steaming water and pulled up a short stool upon which she placed a thick bath sheet and a cake of soap.

“Don’t get used to it. We usually bathe in the stream when the weather permits.” She then sailed out of the room before Emilia could thank her, closing the door as she went.

Her muscles still ached from her ordeal, particularly her shoulders where she’d had her hands restrained behind her back. She dropped the sheet and stripped off her gown, eager to sink in up to her neck. Dipping her toe in first to test the heat, which was beyond warm, but not too hot, she then eased the rest of her body in slowly.

A little excess warmth stung her tender bottom, reminding her of last night, but she pushed those thoughts aside and submerged up to her shoulders. She leaned back and closed her eyes with a long, drawn-out, blissful sigh. Having disregarded her hair, which was soaked, she decided she’d need to wash it as well, but she was enjoying herself too much right now. Maybe in a few minutes.

“Wake up, little one.”

The soothing voice came from far away, drawing her out of her warm, comforting dream. She ignored it, not ready to get up.

“Emilia. You can’t sleep in the bath. Wake up.”

Her eyes popped open to find Corbet standing over her. She smiled at first, watching his eyes crinkle as he smiled in return, then they dipped low. It was at that moment she remembered she was naked in the tub and sat up, bringing her knees up to her chest with a loud splash.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, but I thought this might be a good chance for us to talk.” He held up an oval brush. “I also thought you might need this.” Picking up the items from the stool, he sat, clearly intending to stay while she bathed. Thoroughly at ease, he casually brought the soap to his nose, while she sat paralyzed in horror, her heart stuttering in near panic at the idea.

“Chamomile and meadowsweet,” he murmured, before handing her the soap. When she didn’t immediately start using it, he nodded his head to the water. “Wash before it cools. We’ll talk while you do so.”

Finding it hard to believe he was sitting there fully clothed, expecting her to bathe before him, she blinked. Her eyes slid to the bed where she’d slept, expecting to see her body still lying there, asleep, trapped in this strange dream. Of course, it was empty, the linens mussed, telling her that this was all too real.

Too stunned to offer an objection, she wetted the cake in the water and began rolling it in her hands, working it into a lather. It made thick suds that mixed well with the already herb-scented water, the light fragrance rising up in the steam. She sniffed. “I’ve never heard of combining the two herbs.”

“Alice swears by them for sore muscles. They also soothe frayed nerves and have a pleasant scent. It’s her special blend. She guards it well, but was kind enough to spare a bar for you.”

She looked back to him, skeptical. “Alice hasn’t been the most welcoming of sorts, sir. I’m sure she spared it because you asked her to, not out of kindness for a new slave who she clearly doesn’t appreciate being here.”

“I mean to talk to her this morning about that.”

“No, please,” she rushed to say. “She already resents me and the extra work I bring. I shouldn’t have mentioned it, but my feelings were hurt. I’d rather you not say anything.”

“And I’d rather you be treated well while you’re here. I’ll speak to her and it will be fine, Emilia.” From the resolve in his tone, the subject was closed.

Suddenly, he stood, moving around behind her, bringing the stool with him. “Dunk under and soap your hair. I’ll help you rinse it.”

That he was attending her, instead of one of the women doing so, struck her as odd, but she daren’t complain. He was being gentle and she didn’t want that to change. She slid low and arched her head back, saturating the entire length of her hair. She then lathered it thoroughly and dunked under, hoping the entire while that Alice’s soap clouded the water enough to conceal her breasts and lower body as she did so.

“Ready for the rinse?” he asked when she bobbed back up.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, tipping her head back and closing her eyes tight.

“This is cool,” he warned, “here we go.”

After he’d emptied most of the bucket, he motioned her to sit back, took the wet skein in his hands, and wrung out the excess water. He then took his seat on the stool and to her surprise, took up the brush and began to work it through her tangled mass of hair.

“About last night…” he began.

Her eyes closed tightly, reliving the painful scene. She’d rather die than talk about it, but she was cornered, trapped in her bath and tethered to him by her hair. Escaping the inevitable, short of outright defiance, seemed impossible.

“I don’t know what came over me,” she replied at last, bowing her head forward as she did so. The sharp tug it caused on her hair was welcomed, the slight physical pain much easier to bear than this embarrassment. She continued in a small voice, “I’m appalled by my behavior and promise it won’t be repeated.”

“If you can’t tell me what happened, it will be difficult to prevent in the future. I know it may be hard for you to explain, nevertheless, I want you to try so we can avoid any such, uh, awkwardness from occurring again.”

His tone was even, as if they were discussing nothing more than the weather, not her ardent response to his touch, but his calm didn’t bring her ease. Instead, his words sent an icy chill down her spine despite the heat of the bath. As she feared, he found the incident distasteful, not arousing as she had, and clearly wanted to take action so it wouldn’t be repeated. Still, he didn’t seem to be angry, and lapsed into silence as he began pulling the soft bristles gently through her tangled locks. When he hit a snarl, he worked through it with care. His hands felt so nice in her hair that she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to calm her heart as she searched for a reasonable answer.

“I can hear the wheels in your head turning. It will be better if you tell the truth, not invent something you think I’d like to hear. Do you remember my rule about honesty?”

“I do, sir. I supposed I was so scared at the auction, afraid of the horrible tales about Lancore.” She started to wash her body when he set the brush aside, keeping her eyes averted as she spoke. “I know that if anyone else had bought me, I would have lost my virginity days ago. Probably in a ruthless, painful manner. You, on the other hand, are a kind man, like the auctioneer called you. Purchased as a pleasure slave, I didn’t feel that, um, a bedding was avoidable, but I wasn’t as frightened about you being the one to do it, especially after seeing Glom.” She shuddered at the thought. “While you were gone, I began to imagine what it would be like when you, uh, took me.”

“Did it arouse you when you thought about me?”

“Yes, sir,” she admitted softly before sluicing handfuls of water over her chest and shoulders.

“You were aroused, yet you acted afraid when you thought those were my intentions after telling me about the book.”

Done with her hair, he stood and walked to the window, staring out.

“I’ve been told there is pain, and that scared me, too. I also worried that I wouldn’t know how to please you and you might get angry.”

“You seemed relieved when I assured you I did not want your virginity.”

“I was. I mean, I am.” Since he wasn’t looking her way, she quickly lathered the rest of her body, her belly, her legs and the place in between.

“Yet your arousal grew into lust during the spanking.” Funny how he asked that question when her fingers were between her thighs. She glanced up, seeing he was still focused on something outside.

This perplexed her very much and she didn’t know how to explain it. She certainly didn’t want to tell him about the images that flashed through her mind when he spanked her or that the more she tried to will them away, the more vivid they became.

“I tried to make my body stop. That only seemed to make it worse. I’m very ashamed.” Her voice broke on the word and he turned at the sound. She froze with his gaze upon her. “I’ve never felt that way before, but I won’t let it happen again.”

“Did you touch yourself when you thought of your spanking, or of us together?”

“No, sir!” she gasped, appalled he would think that she would. “Besides, you told me not to.”

“So I did,” he rasped, his gaze unwavering. He then strode to the tub and retrieved the bath sheet. Holding it up, he charged, “Come out of the water, now.”

She rose with a splash and as the water rolled off her body, she stepped out and was enfolded in the soft linen.

“If you couldn’t control your actions despite your efforts, how can you make a promise to me that it won’t occur again?”

Hearing his gruff tone, she glanced up, met his intense gaze, and shook her head, answering in a whisper, “I don’t know.”

Flushing, she pulled the now wet bath sheet more snugly around her body. It clung to her damp skin, providing only a thin barrier between her body and his discerning gaze, but she was covered. She shifted restlessly, flustered by his presence and not having an answer to his question.

His gaze didn’t waver. As much as she wanted to look away, she couldn’t and the heat on her face flamed all the more.

“Turn around and bare your bottom. I want to inspect it for any bruising or welts.”

Emilia flinched in surprise. “It’s fine, sir.”

“Turn,” he repeated.

She didn’t want to. Her sex clenched as the image of his hand on her bare skin floated through her mind. But she obeyed nonetheless, facing away and lifting the cloth, and praying her telltale nether parts wouldn’t give her away again. Pulling up the stool, he sat once more, bringing him close enough for the warmth of his breath to brush her damp skin.

“Bend and grip the edge of the tub, so that I may see,” he ordered further.

She did, knowing his eyes were touching her intimately. Her heart thumped wildly in her ears, a secret part of her wishing for his touch, a soft caress over her hips, or between her thighs as before. No, no, no!
Why did she react this way around him when she knew he didn’t want her?

She was thankful when he stood up, telling her she could cover herself once more.

“You are pink, but that could be from the warm water. Otherwise, you have no bruises or welts, which wasn’t my intent. I thought the bath would help any lingering tenderness. Have you any?”

“No, sir,” she replied, barely above a whisper. And when he said, “good,” and made as though to leave, she said, “Please, say you forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, little one. We’ll put this behind us and move forward, remembering the roles we discussed. I’ll care for you as family, mine to guard and protect until this nasty piece of business is over and you are safely at home. This I vow.”

He squeezed her shoulder in an obvious gesture of reassurance, before he moved to the door and was gone. She stared at the closed door for a long time. The warmth of his touch lingering as though he’d left an imprint, like a brand on her skin.

Family. That’s how he thought of her, like a sister she presumed. The notion sent humiliation rippling through her because what she felt for Corbet was very unsisterly. She wanted more from him: more smiles, more glowing glances, and more of his touch. She thought he might kiss her once, as he’d leaned near, his lips so close. And had wished when he’d brushed out her hair in such a caring way, that he’d sweep it aside and place a kiss on her shoulder, or the nape of her neck.

Her hands clenched tight around the damp linen. Why couldn’t she control these thoughts? He’d explained the reason she was to play his decoy slave, and Muriel’s tale from last night reinforced that he did not want another wife… ever! So why now, for the first time in her life, did she have to become so hopelessly enamored with a man? This man, a man who would never want her.

 

* * *

 

As he strode out of her room, he barely kept from slamming the door to release some frustration. He couldn’t dispel the image of her bent over the tub, her perfect cheeks pink and tempting. He’d controlled his desire, just barely, wanting nothing more than to strip down his pants and drive into her warm, fragrant body, and ride her until both of them were spent of their desires.

What had he been thinking to go in there this morning, wanting her as he had? Had he really thought he could subdue his want of her so easily? It had been a mistake to see her alone, but he couldn’t subject her to the presence of others when discussing such intimate matters. What’s more, she’d received a punishment by his hand and it was his responsibility to make sure she wasn’t suffering unduly.

With a low growl, he rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing an end of bread and a slice of ham from the table with the intention of throwing himself into work. Alice’s greeting reminded him he had another piece of unpleasantness to deal with before he could.

“Alice,” Corbet began, taking a deep breath, before crossing to a stool near the iron cook stove, broaching the subject right off. “What has you so ruffled about the girl?”

“Forgive me for saying, sir, but many things have me concerned.” Keeping her eye to her work, Alice spoke as she sliced strips of bacon.

“Take them one at a time so I can allay your fears.”

“I worry at her influence on Muriel; she is young and very impressionable at this age.”

“They are the same age. Besides, I’m certain she comes from a decent family, she has good morals and values. She is respectful and educated. She can read, Alice. If anything, Emilia is a good influence.”

Alice’s deep brown eyes rose slowly to meet his. “She will fill Muriel’s head full of dreams of far-off places, and life outside of Lancore. After giving her hope of something better, she will be gone, leaving Muriel heartbroken in her absence, and wondering what more could be in store for her on the outside.”

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