Regency Rogues Omnibus (124 page)

Reality was forcing its way inside and society was rearing its intrusive head. It was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore his intended selfish depravity. Chicery could not be sent away to forget, for he would not, and William could not be fired so as to not notice what the Earl of Lee was up to. Robert would return soon, and Darth wondered, if he could look any one of them in the eyes and admit he intended, and did keep Arabella as his slave. Could he continue to admit it to sweet Arabella herself?

Nay, his time was running short, nearly gone, and he felt it lay heavy upon him as he turned to Arabella. Perhaps these would be their last moments of intimacy, he thought, looking down on her. He was selfish enough to make it last as long as possible. Today, tonight, tomorrow, time was short ... and he realized that he was desperate. He could not lose her; he would do anything for that not to happen. Yet how could he keep her against her will and ever expect them to be happy together.

But there were other ways, devious, conniving ways that might not appear as the enslavement they were. If he took her virginity that could be one way to hold her to him. The fact that he had not done it yet was not some grand chivalry on his part. It was more embarrassing than that. When he had first enslaved Arabella to his sexual will, he’d been too afraid to see a look of loathing upon her face. The act of coupling her, face to face, had literally terrified him. So much so that he’d been unable to bring himself to do it.

“But not now,” he murmured, now he knew that Arabella would never look at him that way. Now he knew that she could look at him with desire. Incredible, wonderful desire. The type of thrilling desire a woman had for her man. He could use that ... and heaven help him, he would. If he must acknowledge Arabella’s freedom soon, then he was not going to make it easy for her to leave him. Taking her virginity would be his first step, then finding the stepfather he heard her whisper about last night would be his second step. He would have Arabella in the end, if God gave him a little more time, and he thought righteously, that God did owe him.

When he looked down at Arabella, he saw the hem of the shirt she wore was twisted, revealing one bare rounded hip, which his hand settled over, kneading the soft flesh. His other hand found the braid in her hair, loosening its mahogany colored length as he stroked it out across the pillow. Then the buttons of Arabella’s shirt were worked open and the edges pulled back to reveal her naked breasts, tender belly, and soft inviting pussy beneath. He would never tire of seeing her this way, he thought, as his cock thickened at the sight of her nudity.

Arabella was having the most unusual dream. It seemed very real as her body sleepily twisted and stretched beneath sensations that were warm and tantalizing. Low sighs escaped her lips as pleasure expanded in her mind and through her body, making her want to squirm and breathe heavier. She realized, coming more fully awake, that penetrating jolts of pleasure were nipping around her breasts making her want to thrust her nipples upward. Which she did, to find searing heat nibbling at the sensitive budded tips. Her neck arched backward as she moaned and her head moved from side to side beneath the exquisite pleasure. Broad hands moved in long slow strokes up and down her body, warmly bending her shape to their will.

Darth, it was Darth, her honey-drenched mind told her as her body undulated and molded to every place his palms fondled over. His slightly roughened fingertips petted down the insides of her tender thighs spreading them open as his mouth sucked with tiny bites at her nipples, making her gasp. Then she felt his thumb touching the slit of her sex, folding her open, and she jerked.

“Relax, little dove,” He whispered huskily raising up to capture her mouth with his strong lips.

Arabella became lost in Darth’s kiss as his tongue lapped over her tongue and his fingers played between the lips of her sex with enticing circular motions that made her hips strain upward. She could not stop her hips motion from humping against Darth’s hand. She began whimpering into his mouth as her knees raised, so she could push upward, and then suddenly his finger plunged inside of her, making her cried out.

“Your tender bud is throbbing beneath my finger, little dove.” Darth’s breath was hot against her ear as his finger stroked inside her wetness “That’s it, little love, move with me,” he whispered, persuading her with his deep hushed voice. And she did, crying out his name as the pressure built to a blinding summit. “Come to me, little dove ... come to me.”

The explosion of feelings, centering beneath Darth’s fingers, rocked Arabella in dizzying convulsions that spread rapture through her entire body. Making her shake under the enormity of pleasure it wrought, until she knew that she had died again and she was glad for it.

Christ, she was so sweet,
Darth thought,
so passionate
. His cock grew unbearably heavy as he watched Arabella’s soft lovely body shuddering with its release. Her head was thrown back with her hair spread wildly around her. Her knees were lifted and spread wide to his touch, revealing her sable mound with the dewy slit below that he played with. And he continued to play with, not leaving her any respite, until he once again brought her into another convulsion.

Arabella felt Darth moving above her as he pressed her legs open wider and she reached up to grasp his shoulders.

“Open to me, sweet little dove.”

His voice was a husky rasp and Arabella felt the tip of his manhood push slowly into the place inside her that ached so hotly to be filled. “Oh yes,” she breathed, trying instinctively to spread herself open and raise herself upward to meet his probing brand.

Darth steadied himself with a shudder — the way was tight and hot, dragging him deeper into its excruciating pleasure. Still he tensed and held back with superhuman effort, he could feel the barrier inside the moist haven of molten honey that enclosed him. He drew back as Arabella clutched him, trying to keep him from doing so.

“I would take this pain myself if I could, little dove,” Darth admitted hoarsely, and then he plunged, ripping forth fully into a searing liquid bliss that swallowed him to the hilt.

Arabella cried out, the pain was such a surprise. There was nowhere to go, she was filled and impaled upon the bed with her face buried in Darth’s bare shoulder. Her legs were spread impossibly wide around Darth’s thick muscled thighs and for moments pure panic assaulted her, it was the most vulnerable and exposed position she’d ever been in.

“I will not move unless you guide me.” Darth’s deep voice was strained and heavy. “Sweet Arabella, I will withdraw if you wish it.”

Arabella’s heart swelled as her trepidations fell beneath Darth’s trust. His powerful body shook and sweat dripped down his neck onto her cheek, but he did not move. “Kiss me,” she begged, and he did, until her hips began to rise and fall of their own accord and she realized that the pain was gone, leaving behind new yearnings that clenched inside her. She was not certain what she wanted, however she moaned. “Move, Darth, please.” And he did move, stroking his stiff manhood inside her, making her gasp, “Oh
sweet
mercy.” She grabbed his tight buttocks and begged him to do it again. Soon the rhythm was slapping against her inner thighs in a power so great she could do nothing but ride it.

Darth grasped Arabella’s satin knee and lifted it higher under his arm on one side. He shifted his angle and thrust as fast as the pounding hooves of a stallion. The moment was fire branded upon his soul, twisted and straining, the pleasure was so exquisite. Spiraling upward to meet his goal, and then in the moment of ultimate discovery he heard. No, he felt. No he lived, Arabella’s cry of ecstasy around him, and then he spilled his seed, hot and deep, until there was no more left of him, he was buried so deep, caught on a guttural cry of agonizing fulfillment.

Moments, hours, days later, Darth thought, as his mind returned from the heaven it had been expelled too. His breathing was harsh rasps of air, gulped down into his chest with one tiny coherent thought, not to crush his precious Arabella. So he withdrew and flung himself onto his back, blindly seeking her softness as he pulled her to his side, where she slept the contented sleep of a well-loved woman.

When he woke again sometime later, he kissed Arabella gently on the temple with a smile, wondering where his little dove’s thoughts would wander that day. Feeling a measure of certain satisfaction, he got up and covered her snugly, and then he went in search of a bath and clothes. When he entered his dressing chamber, in search of clothes, he began to consider the logistics of his situation. He wanted a bath, but it was too early for Chicery to be up and he did not wish to disturb Arabella’s sleep. Yet when she woke, she would want a bath and food. That meant he had no choice but to return to Lee in a few hours. It was still very early, so he decided to forgo his bath until later and settle for another quick wash in the kitchen basin sink.

With that decided, he gathered some clean clothes, then thought to leave Arabella a note, telling her of his intentions. Upon leaving his bed chamber, he shut the door quietly behind him and stood for long moments considering the lock. He finally decided that upon returning in a few hours, he would give Arabella the clothes and this would be the last time he would lock her in. From henceforth, if he wanted her to stay in his bedchamber, he would simply request it. That brought a smile to his lips as he headed down the hallway. He would have enough time to go to the magistrate, to speak to him about the fire before he had to be back.

The people in Lee Hall woke earlier than Darth would have expected. Chicery was already awake and waiting and Arabella had woken upon hearing the door click shut. She found the note brushing her hands over the words with a deep sigh. Darth had written the salutation, “Love, Darth,” at the bottom and once she’d seen the words she’d felt tightness in her chest. Could he mean it or was it only a slip, she wondered, laying her head back on the pillow?

She thought that being loved by a man like Darth would have to be the most wonderful thing in the world. But it was all so fragile and new, she did not want anything to harm the feelings growing inside of her. She did trust Darth, and now she was certain of it, and with that certainty, she realized that she needed to tell him about Nicholas. She needed his help and it had already been too long, she could wait no longer. She did not think it would be necessary, but she would beg Darth for his help if she had to. “The very next time I see him, I will tell him everything,” she declared to herself.

Chapter Eighteen

“The earl is gone,” Chicery said to the woman behind him, and then he turned to her and continued. “Now, Mary, remember that I require discretion and if you do a good job ... well, we will see.”

Mary was a slight girl, young, but she looked capable enough with her brown hair and hazel eyes. Mrs. Wellborn had given her high marks for being a lady’s maid and had assured Chicery that she had spoken to Mary about the earl’s looks. Chicery could only hope Mary had heart, because if she reacted badly to the earl, well then, it would be all over and dear Miss Arabella did deserve a lady’s maid. It was only proper for a lady such as herself … and her clothes, he could hardly think on what poor Miss Arabella had been forced to wear last night. She reminded him of a daughter that he’d never had, with her sweet innocence, and if everyone else around here had forgotten how to treat a lady, well, he had not. Especially one he hoped would stay. He had never seen the earl like this before, he was nearly happy and sometimes Lord Peregrine needed a nudge in the right direction.

“I still don’t understand why we must hide from his lordship,” Mary said.

“Never you mind about that, girl. You’ve been hired as a lady’s maid and that is all. I will take care of the rest,” Chicery said, giving her his sternest look.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Chicery,” Mary said, following with an appropriate curtsy.

“Good,” Chicery replied with a slight shake of his balding head. “Now take this robe and bring Miss Arabella back to this chamber to bathe and dress. Then tell her breakfast will be served at her pleasure in the lower dining room.” Chicery walked forward as he was speaking, taking out a set of household keys that were in his pocket. One of these he fitted into the lock on the earl’s bedchamber door and if Mary thought anything of it, she said nothing.

Arabella was dozing with Darth’s note clutched in her hand, but she woke to hear a woman’s voice calling her name. “Miss Arabella.” Her eyes opened to see a smiling face. Her name was Mary and she said that she was to be Miss Arabella’s lady’s maid for as long as she was at Lee. Arabella could not have been more surprised. A maid? For her? It became instantly clear to Arabella that Mary was a talker. Mary never stopped talking once from that moment on, and she never really waited for an answer either, even answering some of the questions she posed to Arabella on her own.

Mary could not have been but two years older to Arabella’s eighteen years and she was slender with brown hair pulled back into a neat bun. She wore a dark shift with a starched white apron, that being a proper lady’s maid attire, she told Arabella. Arabella would not know, because she’d never had a lady’s maid in her life and if Mary seemed surprised at the circumstances she found Arabella in, she never let it show. Arabella decided after only a few minutes that she liked Mary, even if she did talk so much. Soon Arabella, found herself wrapped in a robe and taken down the hall into another bedchamber of obvious feminine origins.