Owning Arabella (4 page)

Chapter Six

 

"You are afraid of me?" he asked flatly looking down at her.

Arabella jerked her gaze away from Darth's impaling gray eyes. "Of you, not your scar." Arabella wondered with feverish thoughts why she had thought to clarify. Perhaps it was some inner self preservation which read Darth's diabolical intentions and she sought to soften the blow upon herself.

Darth was staggered at Arabella's response. It was true that she was afraid, he could see it. He expected it. However, she did not seem in anyway appalled by his visage. And that excited him." That is proper, Arabella. It is just the way I would have it in fact." Darth pulled Arabella closer still, taking her chin firmly in his wide hand, pressing upward, until she had no choice but to look at him. "Are you a virgin, Arabella?"

"I cannot abide stubbornness from my property, Arabella. Tell me at once or I will be forced to punish you!"

Darth pulled once forcefully with the hand that held the edge of the bed linen between her breasts, ripping it away without warning. Arabella was so stunned, she did not even scream as he grabbed up both of her wrists and placed them together in one of his broad hands. Clamping his fingers around them tightly he began to pull her along behind him. "Rape, Arabella? There will never be rape between us. You will be willing, I can assure you!"

Darth pulled her to a dresser, where he opened a drawer and rifled through its contents with his free hand. Arabella finally found her wits and thought to escape him, twisting her wrists and panting with the effort, until he squeezed his hand even more. He was strong as seen in his powerful body stretched tautly beneath the silk of his white shirt.

She yanked again, screeching, "Let me go!" But he did not budge. He was like a sturdy oak tree, immovable to her smaller frame and she saw, with alarm, the two belts he pulled from his drawer. One was a two-inch leather strap and the other was a much thinner trouser tie.

Darth was standing to the side of her with one of his hands hung down at his side and the wide leather strap dangling to the floor. Arabella clenched her eyes and tensed in terrified anticipation of the lash she knew was coming. Flinching when Darth moved. But no sudden pain came across her back. Instead, she heard the soft whoosh of the feather mattress. Then she dared to open her eyes to see Darth stretched out like a great feline cat laying crossway's on the corner of the bed. His penetrating gray eyes were gazing up at her. She'd never felt more exposed in her life, stripped naked and bound immobile before a man.

"I hate you!" she cried, not knowing what else to say or to do as Darth lay there, and then he smiled slowly. Arabella's heart caught unreasonably, for she would never think the brute, the bully, who was so utterly male, could be attractive in his own way. But she did! And that frightened her more than being at his mercy. She could not help it with him looking at her so. Darth's eyes were leisurely sweeping down the length of her nude body, and there was obvious appreciation in their gray depths.

"What are you going to do to me?" She could stand it no longer.

"Are you a virgin?"

Arabella clamped her mouth shut defiantly.

"You are stubborn, little dove."

Darth brought the strap upward and flicked it around behind Arabella, catching the other end with his hand as he lay on his side. Both of his hands now held an end of the strap, as the strap itself settled across the under curve of Arabella's plushly ripe bare buttocks. Arabella gasped twisting against the soft leather corralling her sumptuous ass and Darth sawed the leather back and forth. She tried to arc away from the insidious leather, and the movement thrust the firm globes of her breasts upward, exploiting the fevered peach colored thrust of her nipple buds. They were swollen tiny cherries that were fat and quivering.

"How does it feel, Arabella?" Darth sawed the strap across Arabella's ass again, watching her breath catch in a hard pant as her nude body trembled. "It is hard to believe that a strap like this, which can dispense such a nasty sting, could be so soft." Darth's eyelids grew heavy-lidded, holding her gaze as if it too was bound to the bedpost. She shivered in fright, before him. "Do you want me to strike this against your sweet little ass?" he murmured. "It will hurt, little dove."

"I will never tell you!" she cried.

The thought of it provoked Darth beyond temporary reason and he came up on his knees before Arabella, while still holding the belt around her wiggling ass. Then, he lifted her up to him with the belt as a cradle beneath her bare buttocks. She had no choice but to separate her thighs, until he had her hot cunt riding the outline of his hard cock, like an ardent tease. The impossible position, with her arms above her head, pushed her firm breasts into the wall of his chest.

Savagely, Darth bit back his groan of pleasure as Arabella's head fell back She was helpless and exposed as he rode her sweet cunt up and down over the impression of his stiff cock. He was merciless on himself and on her. It had been too long for him, there was no way in heaven or hell he could stop. Ten years without a woman and even then he had never done anything so lecherous.

Arabella would never stand a chance against his lust. Her long hair swung around her naked ass as he humped her mercilessly. Suddenly she moaned, a woman's aroused sound, and he nearly roared with elation. He was affecting her, in spite of herself.

 

Chapter Seven

 

Only the whores he had fucked occasionally in his youth had ever let him touch them like this. Touch the hidden and mysterious cunt beneath their skirts. Yet now he had full access from an unwilling and beautiful woman. The mixture of Arabella's captivity, his years of celibacy, and simply the feel of her pussy on his fingers drove him beyond any propriety.

As he raped Arabella's mouth with his thrusting tongue, he raped her pretty cunt with his fingers. He found a lip of flesh deep in the wet folds that made Arabella squeal and rub her body against him. The motion drug his fingers deeper into the cleft of her buttocks, until the tip of his longest finger was touching the entrance to her vagina from behind, as he held her up against him. He wondered with a passion ripped mind, whether a man could rape a woman's mouth, ass, and cunt hole at the same time.

Arabella screamed into Darth's mouth, around his thick tongue as pleasure wracked her body in accumulating waves so overpowering she was witless against the domination. Darth's strong rough fingers tweaked the pleasure, torturing her body to rapturous new heights. And then, she screamed again, writhing against his powerful unyielding frame. Feeling the alien sensation of a man's finger embedded deeply in the core of her sex, then another thickness entering her constricting anus, while a demanding tongue ravaged her mouth. There was no escape. Only amazing need, ecstasy, craving, and surrender, forcing her to whimper and scream in pleasure.

Arabella was weak. So limp in the aftermath of what Darth had done to her. Her mind was hazy. Her body fluid and her throat sore from her screams. Still, she could feel Darth holding her. His strength and masculinity warmed her now, where before it had frightened her . . . even while it had excited her and governed her. She tried to make herself think to any purpose. Her wrists were still tied above her head. She was still nude. Owned by Darth. It should frighten her. She knew that it should. Then, Darth moved against her and she remembered that this was only the beginning.

"Now tell me if you are a virgin." Darth's voice sounded hoarse and deep as Arabella tossed her head, making small whimpering sounds. "So foolishly brave, little dove," he uttered.

The endearment Darth used wracked Arabella's senses, in stark contrast with the way he had just ravished her body with his fingers and his mouth. The things he had done to her, the pleasure she had felt, left her confused and afraid. She had never been touched by a man's intimate hands before this, she was a virgin, yet she had lived in Jamaica for most of her young life. She had heard things, she had seen things . . . men and women together. Before this she had touched herself between her thighs. Over the past year of her eighteenth birthday, she had been anxious over how often she felt the need to touch herself.

There had been a torment growing inside her that was never satisfied, until this moment. The yearning and the wanting were still there, but the torment now knew relief. Relief, that came from the powerful hands of a darkly scarred Earl. A man who should terrify her with every piece of common sense that she possessed, yet she was afraid instead, that he might thrill her.

"Yes, you are a virgin?" Darth asked relentless, he knew the answer, yet this was a part of the command. His command over Arabella.

"Yes, I s-said, yes!" she choked, strangling on the words. "And, you are a beast and I should never have helped you!" The tears came then, born of her capture and enslavement.

The conflict was a wicked and depraved one, and the outcome was a forgone conclusion. His lust would rain victorious over his humiliation, brushing it aside as a mere afterthought of emotion, making way for the new, headier sense of lustful male domination. He would never allow Arabella a choice about what she thought about his attractiveness. He had yet to believe it, but his brave Arabella had even touched his damn scarring. Caressed it . . . And taken the pain away. How much gold would he have given any person to take the recurring pain away? All of it! His entire fortune. Yet still, he questioned if Arabella's healing had been fortuity. Conceivably, it had just been a light spell to begin with, he had those as well. Darth gathered his resolve, he had too many needs not to see this through. Wicked, depraved, or even a beast, he was all of that and his face proved it.

He rolled up off the bed, ignoring Arabella's weeping as he went in search of a brandy. Which he downed in one gulp with its fiery liquid searing his belly, making him realize it was morning and he was hungry. However, he ignored this also. He wondered briefly where Chicery was. Normally Chicery would have been here by now. Going about his self-imposed duties of opening the heavy drapes that darkened the room and setting out his Lordship's clothes for the day, with a bath being brought up. Darth knew that he'd locked the door earlier, but that would not keep Chicery from at least knocking. The thought of a bath propelled him into imagining other ways he could use to subjugate Arabella to his will.

Arabella, clutched her breasts and between her thighs with her long auburn hair falling forward as her head hung down. "I beg you for clothes, my Lord," she whispered in a small voice.

"Darth," he corrected. "And no, no clothes." Arabella's head came up at this, sending her long tresses falling backward over her bare shoulders "You will not cover yourself to me unless I wish it," he stated firmly under her horrified golden eyes.

"You cannot keep me unclothed!" Her small chin rose upward, becoming firm.

"I can, Arabella, and I will. You are mine now and you will do everything I say."

"Damnation." Darth cursed at Chicery's timing, just as Arabella leaped to her bare feet with a horrified squeal and began to run toward the only other door in the room. It was his dressing closet