Rainlashed (6 page)

“You are to take this with you.” He handed the groom the selkie skin. “Wrap it up well in an oilskin and carry it to Edinburgh. I want it safely stowed away in my townhouse as soon as you can get it there.”

The groom took the skin gingerly and turned it over in his hands with a look of puzzlement on his face. His curiosity eventually overcame his caution and he asked, “What is it?”

He glared at his servant. “Never you mind what it is. Just treat it with the utmost care and guard it with your life. I will have your head if it loses so much as a single hair through your mistreatment.”

Though he was still clearly puzzled, the groom said only, “Yes, my Lord,” and hurried off to do his master’s bidding.

He called the man back, anxious to impress on him the necessity of looking after his charge. “Wrap it well. I would not have it get wet.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Once you get to Edinburgh, place it carefully in my bedchamber. Put it there yourself and give the housekeeper strict orders that it is not to be touched. Not by her, not by anyone. Is that understood?” He did not want the curious to idly stare at it, or to run their fingers against its silky softness.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“And leave right away. I will expect to see you on the road as soon as you have harnessed the horses.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

With an anxious feeling gnawing at the pit of his stomach, he watched the groom go off into the stables carrying his precious bundle. He misliked the necessity of sending the skin away, but he knew he had no choice. Safeguarding the skin, both from Maya and from harm, was paramount. His part in it was taken care of—the rest was in God’s hands.

He turned back to the house. Now that his first priority was taken care of and the skin was safe, he could see to Maya and deal with her, and with her unaccountable dislike of clothing.

He smiled as he walked into the entryway. He much preferred a woman who liked taking her clothes off to one who insisted on keeping them all on. Once he got Maya upstairs and into his private chamber, she could indulge her liking for nudity to her heart’s content. He could see plenty of advantages in having her naked and waiting for him for as long as he chose to keep her.

As long as she was properly instructed and taught to make herself decent whenever she left his bedchamber, they would get along fine. Her dislike of clothes would only encourage her to stay where he wanted her—in his bed.

He opened the door to the sitting room, and stood transfixed for a moment with sheer fury as he took in the scene before him.

Maya, the little slut of a selkie, was standing utterly naked in front of the full-length glass doors that led to the garden. She was balanced on one foot, while the other rested on the low window ledge, splaying herself wide open to the world as she rubbed her naked pussy with eager fingers, dipping her fingers in and out of her eager cunt and moaning aloud with pleasure.

She was putting on a show, and judging by the audience she had gathered and the mess they had made on his windows, it had been well worth watching.

Furious, he stalked over to the window and pulled her roughly by the arm to face him. Her face was suffused with red and her chest was heaving with lust. He trembled with the desire to shake her until her teeth fell out. How dare she exhibit herself like that, and to a couple of common gardeners no less. “You slut,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

She fought against his restraining hand. “I was just about to find pleasure,” she cried. “And you stopped me. Again.”

“You were about to find pleasure by exhibiting yourself for those rogues?” He gestured at the pair of gardeners, who had stuffed their still-dripping cocks back into their breeches and were beating a hasty retreat through the hedge on the far side.

She shrugged, not in the least bit embarrassed. “I was finding pleasure by myself until you came along. I did not mind that they liked to watch me. I liked it.”

A selkie was as much animal as she was human, and not bound by human codes of behavior. He fought to remember that and to control his anger at the animal side of her. “But I care that you let them watch you,” he said as calmly as he could manage. “I care very much.” The sight of their semen on the window in front of him made him want to rage and smash things. He would have the pair of them flogged soundly for daring to watch his prize before he turned them off his estate to starve and die in the hedgerows for all he cared. “And if I care, you must care too.”

“Send them away then, if it does not please you that they should watch me. For myself, I do not mind.”

If he had been a brute, he would have beaten her until she minded, but he was a gentleman and a lord, so he restrained himself. “I have captured you and you belong to me and to me only. It must be your study to do only what pleases me and nothing that displeases me.”

She sighed. “I will do what pleases you so that I may earn back my skin.” She gave a pout and ran her free hand over her peaking nipples, which contracted even more tightly under her touch. “But can I not please myself sometimes too?”

He could not remain furious with a woman who tantalized him so. The sight of her hands on her breasts left him instantly wanting her again. He wanted to taste her, to bend his head down to her breasts and lick and suck on them. “It pleases you to touch yourself? Better than if a man touched you? Better than if
I
touched you?”

Squirming in his grip, she plastered her body against him. “I have wanted you since the first moment I saw you on the beach,” she said, her voice showing her exasperation. “I gave you pleasure then, and was left wanting more. Can I not give myself pleasure now?”

He would not stand for her pleasuring herself, not when he was more than ready and willing to do it for her. With his free hand he reached down and unbuttoned his breeches. She was hotter than the hottest wet dream he’d ever had as a young lad. By God, but he’d never dreamed he would ever have a naked selkie writhing all over him, rubbing her wet pussy on his thighs, and begging him to fuck her.

“I will give you better than that,” he said, as he pushed his breeches over his hips. “Bend over.”

Her eyes widened at the sight of his hard cock and she bent over immediately, her legs splayed, her glorious ass raised high in the air.

He reached down and touched her pussy. She was soaking wet and trembling with desire. He put the tip of one finger into her tight little cunt. She moaned with pleasure and pushed against him, urging him to go deeper.

If she wanted him to fuck her, he was more than ready. He would show her that he was in control, that she belonged to him. He would take her and let her know that he was master here, and that his every order had to be obeyed. By the time he had finished with her, she would be begging to obey him.

His cock needed no further preparation beyond the sight of her naked ass. He was as hard and ready as he had been on the beach. He withdrew his dripping finger and rubbed her juices on the head of his cock to moisten it, then parted her pussy lips with one hand and with the other he guided his cock home.

Her cunt was slicker and tighter than he could have dreamed of. As tight as a young virgin’s untouched cunt. She cried out as he entered her, and thrust her ass back to meet him.

He withdrew a little way and then drove in to her as far as he could go, until he was pushing toward her womb.

Hard and fast he thrust into her, until she cried out with ecstasy and he felt her convulse around his shaft. Then he withdrew again, his cock still hard and throbbing, and dripping with her juices.

That had been about her and her only. He would not take her here, bending over in the sitting room, for his own sake. He could afford to be generous once in a while. After all, because of the foolish bargain she had made with him, he had all the time in the world to fuck her whichever way he wanted to. And fuck her again he would very shortly, just as soon as he had her in the privacy of his own bedchamber and away from any spying eyes that might happen to chance on them.

She was still bent over where he had left her, sobbing loudly, gulping air into her lungs with deep, noisy breaths.

He felt irked at her distress. She had practically been on her knees begging him to fuck her, and now she was weeping over it? “You did not like that?”

Her face turned to his, and he could see that her tears were tears of joy and wonder, not of pain or hurt. “Yes, I liked it.”

Thank the Lord for small mercies. He never could bear a weeping woman. He did not like women who thought they could manipulate him with their tears—he was no green young fool to be so easily led by the nose. He pulled his breeches up again and buttoned them over his still-throbbing cock. He held out his hand to her, eager to have her to himself in private. “Come then, I will show you to the bedchamber you will share with me.”

Maya straightened up again and wiped the tears from her face. So that was what the sisters had delighted in and talked about and obsessed over until she had almost been sick of hearing about their human lovers. Now she understood what all the fuss was about. Now she understood what drove them to discard their seal skins on a regular basis and cast themselves on the shore for a lusty young fisherman to find them and to fuck them.

She herself was ready to get down on her knees and kiss the man for making her feel so sensual and excited, for fulfilling her in ways that she had never dreamed of, but for the fact that she didn’t think that would please him overmuch. He certainly had not been happy to find her touching herself, even though she was glad that finding her with her fingers in her pussy had finally goaded him into fucking her.

She would touch herself every day, if that was the effect it had on him. Never before had she felt such wondrous pleasure.

If fucking her like that was what he liked, she would be only too glad to spend the next few hours, even the next few days, in studying how to please him. She would almost be sorry when she had pleased him enough to get back her seal skin. Already she knew that she would miss his touch. No other human, no eager young farmer boy or square-shouldered blacksmith, no lusty fisherman or lonely sailor, could ever make her feel as hungry and excited as this man could.

The aftermath of pleasure was still shivering through her body. Indeed, she might even pay him another visit—next time leaving her seal skin safely with an aunt so that he could not capture her again. Then she would be free to stay or to go as she pleased. How deliciously the tables would be turned then. She would be in control and he would have to bend his mind towards pleasing her if he wanted her to stay.

But for now there was no time to waste in such enticing fantasies. She had to please him in order to regain her precious freedom. She had best not forget her task.

It was strange how long humans stayed on heat, Maya thought to herself as she followed the man up the staircase. Less than two moments ago she had experienced the most intense pleasure in her life, a pleasure that had utterly satisfied her and drained her, and left her feeling so satiated she thought that never again would she be able to feel desire.

But her utter satisfaction had lasted only for the space of a dozen heartbeats. Even now her body was aching for more. Already she wanted him to fuck her again, as hard and as fast and as thoroughly as he had the first time.

He threw open a door at the top of the staircase. “This will be your bedchamber. You will sleep here every night, unless I tell you otherwise. I will join you when it pleases me to do so.”

She walked in over the threshold, her reawakening lust temporarily forgotten as she took in her surroundings with a curious eye.

Seals by their very nature had no possessions to speak of. No seal could possess the fish in the sea that fed them, or the rocks on the beach where they slept in the warm sunshine. When you were hungry, you went hunting and ate whatever you caught—fish, or tasty squid or, if you were very lucky, delectable pink jellyfish with translucent tentacles, whose faint sting only added an extra fillip of fun to the meal. When you were tired, you rested on the rocks by the sea. What use was anything else to them?

Humans, so it seemed, were very different. Not only did they build themselves houses of wood and stone, but they filled up their houses with all sorts of interesting and unusual items. She’d heard about them from stories, of course, but never before had she seen them with her own eyes.

A platform covered in garments which served for sleeping on, stood in pride of place in the room. She sat on it gingerly, and tested out the springiness of it beneath her buttocks. It was much better than rocks for sitting on, she quickly decided. She would like to lie on her back on it, with the man on top of her, fucking her face to face. It was at once firm and strong, but at the same time as soft and giving as the foam on the ocean waves.

So was the chair covered in cushions that stood in the curve of the window. Indeed, the chair was better, as it afforded a view of the sea. The waves were more distant that she would have liked—she could not see the beach, only the water.

She stopped still and listened intently, but all she could hear were the steps of the master, and the sound of his breathing. “Hush,” she whispered to him, holding her own breath on the word.

He stood still and hushed just for a moment, but it was long enough. His silence told her that she could still hear the muted roar of the ocean, even from so far away, if she listened with all her might. The sound brought a smile to her heart. He could not cut her off completely from the ocean waves that were her lifeblood. She could still hear their call from behind her prison walls.