Regency Rogues Omnibus (116 page)

Punishment!
Darth had said punishment! Arabella squealed again, but it did her no good as Darth hauled her to one of the bedposts at the end of the huge four-post bed. There he lifted her wrists high over her head as she wiggled and fought his hold. But he took the thinnest belt and wrapped both of her wrists, pulling them higher to bind the belt around the bedpost securely. Bringing even her heels off the ground. She was hung helpless and naked, heaving from the exertion of trying to escape him.

“
God
, you are beautiful,” he uttered, swiping a broad hand across his scarred mouth as if he had not meant to say it.

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.

Suddenly, she felt unexpected heat flushing her body, drawing her nipples upward into tight swollen marbles.
Oh heavens!
Did this man not abuse her, take her clothes, tie her up, and promise to-to whip her? She was so confused, as she wiggled beneath Darth’s gaze, feeling suddenly breathless.

“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.”

Darth allowed her no answer as he loosened the belt, and then he snapped it forward again between his hands. The strap snapped across Arabella’s tender buttocks making her yelp in surprise. Her young body struggled then, but he had her captured.

“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.

“Tell
me
,” he uttered hoarsely as she whimpered with pleading and aroused sounds. “Tell me if you have ever felt this before, Arabella?” he continued relentlessly. “Have you been this near to a man’s hard cock before, little dove?”

“
Please
,” she cried, and Darth felt the liquid heat of her wetting him.

Chapter Seven

Christ
, Darth wanted to growl and shake his muscle against Arabella ... and then he smelled her heat. Humid and musky.
Hot
. “Yes,” he uttered fiercely and he grabbed Arabella’s naked ass in one hand holding her up to him as he dropped the belt. His other hand found her cunt. Juicy. Scorching.
Wet
. She squealed shrilly, but he cut the sound off with his mouth over hers. Her lips twisted trying to avoid his mouth, but he would have none of it as he arched her neck further back and he took her mouth. He was rough, perhaps crazed, with his hand between her thighs.

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.

Jesus!
Darth tore his mouth away from Arabella’s trying to catch a panted breath as he played his fingers inside of her sweet asshole and another in her dripping hot vagina. It was so wicked, so depraved, so wonderful. A man taking his woman through aggression, forcing her to respond to him. He was being lustfully depraved as only his dreams had ever allowed him to be.

“Aaaa!” Arabella screamed and Darth knew it was in pleasure as he bit down on her arched throat, while his fingers played deeply inside of her.
In. Out. In. Out
. Arabella jerked her plump breasts against his chest, crying again passionately. He nibbled her supplicated throat. Nibbling. Licking. Biting. While his fingers fucked her relentlessly and the hard cock he held in his pants dribbled his seed.

Arabella was a virgin — Darth could feel it and it thrilled him beyond his comprehension as he tested the barrier with each thrusting of his finger buried inside her. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably over his wrist and her inner muscles clutched his fingers in spasms. Her cunt was tight and quivering.
Clutching
. It grabbed at his thrusting fingers.

“Aaaaa!” she screamed again, jerking in a fever as sharp throbs beat wildly deep inside her and his finger became drenched with hot creamy liquid.
Climax.
The contraction and release of her vagina around his fingers made him gasp. The hot cavern of her ass made him groan as he suckled deeply on her throat. Holding her to him as the surges of pleasure rippled through her young lovely body.

If there were tears in his eyes, he would deny it. If he trembled, he would never admit it as he withdrew his fingers from Arabella’s sweet, ripe body, and he bit back his own tormented arousal with a new and firmer resolve shaking him.
Arabella was his
. He
owned
her.

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’d heard things and 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
,” she finally cried, vulnerable and shaking, more afraid of herself than of him.

“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.

Judas Priest
, she was full-fledged crying now and it was not just a few tears, but beginning to be sobs. Darth cursed under his breath. The guilt, which was riding him hard, blossomed into tangles of humiliation. It had been there teasing the back of his emotions. Real men cajoled, teased, flirted, and seduced. Normal men had no need to conquer and dominate. He believed with every piece of his being that Arabella would never willingly embrace him. Nor would she in the future without his omniscient command.

The conflict was a wicked and depraved one, and the outcome was a forgone conclusion. His lust would rein 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.

It was then that Darth noticed that Arabella had fallen silent and his gaze returned heatedly to her nimble shape, displayed in such a heady and decadent manner. Immediately, Darth saw that Arabella’s heels were up off the ground.
Damn
... He returned quickly to Arabella’s side, untying her slim wrists. A moan escaped her as her arms fell to her side and he caught her slender waist in his big hands before she fell, turning her to sit on the bed. The physical touching again, of her pliant flesh in his hands, shook him with fierce needs that took him moments to control.