A DANCE with the DEVIL (part one)

A DANCE WITH THE DEVIL

The sun had finally risen although but she’d been up long before daylight.  She'd already been up for hours, and the servants would be coming soon to help her prepare for the ceremony.

Rowena Kelly stared at her own face in the mirror, noting that her expression revealed nothing of the wild thoughts and deep secrets her forced smile concealed. This should be the happiest day of her life and instead her thoughts were full of HIM.

It was her wedding day and it infuriated her to no end that her thoughts were not solely of her intended husband, Jacob Westwood. And, of course, the fact that she felt so guilty about how she took relieved pleasure in the death of another. Even one as vile Lord Richard Cranston, but still it was only fair that she find some relief from her shameful secret which had died with him.

She could only hope that the soul of Richard Cranston burned in hell. The man had possessed the tempting body of an Adonis, and the face of a golden angel. He had been deceptive to a fault, allowing you to see only what he wanted you to. A enticing rogue who could charm a snake, his voice beguiling, drawing one in with his pleasing words, only to find he was not the snake charmer, but the snake, and when he attacked he was poisonous and savage to the core.

He was cruel, a seducer, a rapist, a true wolf in sheep’s clothing, for she had not gone willing to his bed. She pulled the newspaper page out of her dresser again. She read the bold headline and looked over the face of the woman to whom she’d be forever grateful. For it had been an American heiress, Charlotte Burke who had finally caught Lord Cranston’s eye and somehow managed to draw Richard’s unbearable, unwanted attentions away from her. Yes it was Charlotte Burke, the woman who had been falsely accused of Richard’s murder. 

And then she pulled out the second page from another edition of the same newspaper, printed just few weeks after the one article, this one containing the confession and testimony of Miss Burke’s servant Mary Jenkins. It seemed Rowena was not Lord Cranston’s only victim. For Mary and Charlotte had been his victims much more recently.

Now that Richard was dead her secret was safe. She cursed herself for the coward she was, for Mary Jenkins was not the only one who could have aided Miss Burke’s defense. But she had not dared to risk her future to come forward, for while she was quite certain that Jacob would somehow understand, his family certainly would not, and she loved Jacob more than anything in the world.

She had loved Jacob for as long as she could remember and she’d been “in love’ with him for as long as she’d known what it meant to be in love. He’d been her only choice and she his.

Lord Richard--She never expected the complexity of that infuriating man and that there was nothing simple about him. In the beginning, despite all the rumor and suppositions, it didn’t occur to her that he was less than a proper gentleman—thinking all of it was mere gossip making the rounds, but he changed that opinion rapidly in their first couple of encounters. She tried to resist him at every turn, for proper was far from a term that could be used to describe him even on their earliest meetings, every word and action directed toward proving that he was far from a gentleman.

And it was all for naught for she still faced the prospect of explaining the absence of her virginity to her beloved Jacob. She tried again to will the face of her first sexual partner from her mind. She would not call him her lover, for there was no love between them and she had been anything but willing. And love was something that aside from his possible affection for his own mother; Richard Cranston was utterly incapable of.

A brisk knock on the door drew her attentions; she quickly hid the newspaper articles away and called out, “Come in.”

Two maids entered, the first one carrying a tray with food, “Your breakfast, milady.”

The second maid stepping over to the window and drawing back the heavy curtains, “Looks to be a fine day for a wedding, miss.”

She looked back at the maids, and then to sunshine outside. Yes it was going to be a fine day indeed. It was her wedding night she was not so sure of.

*****

Primped, pressed and prepared, Rowena descended the stairs to take her father’s arm for the carriage ride to the church. They were to be getting married outside in the gardens behind the church. Once again her mind worried over how to explain her lost innocence to Jacob. Her mind drifted back to how she had found herself in this mess...

Three years ago ….

It was early spring and her parents had invited a few couples and several eligible young men, and some of the season’s hopeful debutantes for the small spring ball they held each year at their country estate, before the London season got into full swing.
From one of the upstairs windows Rowena and a handful of the other girls were spying down, trying to catch glimpses of the arriving young men. One of the girls gasped, pointing to the next carriage pulling up to the front of the manor. “Oh my, Rowena, why did you not tell us Cranston had been invited?”

“Cranston?” Rowena returned curiously, her eyes now riveted like all the other girls to the coach bearing the Cranston family crest.

The legendary Lord Richard.

She had heard of him many times but this would be the first time she’d ever seen him. Cranston was among the most eligible bachelors; although the rumour mill had it that Lord Richard was a rake and a scoundrel. The less than savory rumours drifting about that the aspiring young brides were not supposed to be privy to; like for instance, the one about Lord Cranston having no intention of marrying, but that instead he preferred making his way through the local brothels and carrying on numerous inappropriate relationships with married women.

However, since young women were typically the worst gossips ever and most rumours drifting about were blown so far out of proportion when compared to fact that such gossip was generally taken with a pinch of salt. Even as she stared along with the others Rowena laughed out loud at the gasps of anticipation behind her as the door to the carriage was opened and the man in question stepped out.

Rowena’s laughter fell silent as did the sighs and giggles of the rest of the girls crowded at the window. All stunned to silence by the unqualified handsomeness of a man in his early thirties. They watched him stride with peacock-like confidence to the front doors, and when he removed his hat revealing his hair, the afternoon sunlight glinted off the sun-burnished golden strands, and nearly all of them sighed.

As they watched him disappear inside the house, eager debutantes swooned all over the room, gushing enthusiastically, each wondering if they’d be lucky enough to capture his attentions in some way tonight. Rowena glanced behind her, shaking her head at the silly blathering going on among the other girls. Yes, he was handsome, but Jacob already held tight her affections. That not withstanding, it did not mean she could not appreciate what a fine male specimen Lord Richard Cranston was.



Several hours later the ball was winding down, a handful of guest having already departed and Rowena was happily dancing in Jacob’s arms, when the light tap came on Jacob’s shoulder, the deep rich tones, “Mr Westwood, may I, sir?”

With glance at Rowena, making sure it was all right with her, Jacob bowed out gracefully, giving her over into Richard Cranston’s arms. “Miss Kelly, tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Lady Rowena is it not?”

“Yes, my lord,” Rowena replied, with a curtsy dictated by social decorum.

“Lord Richard Cranston,” he said with a returning bow, “At your service milady.” His hand rested lightly at her waist as he guided her into the dance.

Her hand came to rest on his shoulder and she was anything tactful as she called him on the behavior she’d witnessed from his this evening. “It would be of service to me if you would behave yourself milord.”

She saw his undisguised amusement, “Why Miss Kelly, have I done aught to offend you?”

“You are shameless Lord Cranston,” she scolded, “Is there a young woman here tonight that you have not blatantly flirted with, my lord?”

“Flirted, milady?” He asked with a raised brow, “I did not know it was flirting to merely pay equal amounts of undivided attention to your female guests. Inflate their feelings of self-importance, as it were.”

Again Rowena called him on it, he was practically preening with his own brazen self-confidence, “Do you think yourself someone special…,” She hesitated only a moment before using his given name familiarly. “..Richard? Just because half the women in the room are in a swoon over you does not make you important. There are more important aspects to man than just his good looks or the size of his purse.”

Without being obvious to anyone else, Richard’s grip around her waist grew unwelcomely tighter, drawing her near enough to whisper in her ear. “Am I to take compliment or insult, milady? Or even better still, shall I show you some other aspects about what makes a man…” he hesitated, before hissing her name hot against her neck, “Rowena?”

There was no mistaking what he meant. She was appropriately insulted, and she pushed against his shoulders in a fury, trying to break free of him, her mouth opening to tell him to let her go but he held her firmly, whispering again before she could speak, “Do not struggle so, milady, unless you wish to make a scene. What would your father think if you insulted the most “eligible bachelor” in London?”

Rowena was so livid at his audacity she could simply scream, but the only one she would harm would be herself. The man was a reputed rake, a well-earned description after what she’d witnessed this evening and thus his current abominable behavior was to be expected.

Nevertheless, fury flashed in her eyes, and he smiled down at her, clearly relishing the fact that he had gotten a response from her, albeit an angry one. It meant she wasn’t immune to him. He knew he’d won this round and triumph glittered in his eyes. 

She was so angry at himand wanted nothing more than to slap the smug expression from his face, and she would have done so if they weren’t in the middle of a crowded dance floor at her parent’s ball. She did the only thing she could, her voice still hot with outrage, “Just shut up and dance, milord.” She forced herself to stay with him until the song ended, and then she fled not just his arms but the ballroom entirely…

*****

For a short while on her wedding day Richard Cranston left her thoughts and instead much happier thoughts filled her head. She managed to train her thoughts on her beloved Jacob. While it was typical of debutantes to marry men Lord Cranston’s age and older, Jacob and she were only a few months apart in age, but that did not stop her from loving him. Yes, she and Jacob were an unusual marriage in more ways than one. There was the fact of how young he was and also and more importantly it was a a love match, not an arranged business deal as so many girls on the marriage market found themselves a pawn in.

Jacob, strong yet gentle, and she expected he would be a tender lover. No one had ever understood her like he did. She still found it difficult to believe that he never sensed something was amiss. He so adeptly picked up on her moods, read her emotions, and generally could put her mind at ease.

She only hoped he could forgive her for not telling him before the wedding. Was it confidence in his love, his ability to see past what had happened and see that she was not to blame? Or was it cowardice on her part, praying that telling him after the fact, that she would not she find herself condemned a liar, a whore, and find herself set aside. Even during the time she spent in Richard Cranston’s company, her love for Jacob was what got her through it. Reminding herself that were good men in the world and her Jacob was the best.

It was time, and on her father’s arm she walked down the aisle to the man who held her hopes and dreams. His open, loving smile as he watched her approach almost sent her running back up the aisle, feeling utterly unworthy of him. Almost. She had wanted this, marriage to Jacob, bearing his children, for as long as she could remember, her adversary was long dead, and she had naught to fear from him ever again.

For most of the ceremony she met his gaze, returning the loving looks, but when it got to the keeping only to him part she could not meet Jacob's eyes, and looked down instead at their joined hands. Still she vowed her life to him until death and she meant every word.

Finally the minister pronounced them man and wife, and Jacob’s mouth found hers as he kissed his bride. Even as the kiss lingered and she tasted the tempting hint of passion in his kiss, the minister introduced them to the assembly. “Lord and Lady Jacob Westwood.” She and Jacob finally pulled back from the kiss to the cheers and applause and congratulations shouted from the congregation.

*****

The afternoon wedding had gone splendidly, and the guests had all made their way to the Westwood’s estate for the reception and wedding dinner. Rowena sat quietly at Jacob’s side as the wedding toasts were made, she was smiling and laughing with her new husband and their guests when the image of Lord Cranston rose once again in her mind.


….It was the evening after the ball, and as was the custom numerous guests would be staying for a few days if not longer; taking advantage of the Kelly hospitality. Through some sort of mistake, although she always suspected that he’d had a deliberate hand in it; she was seated next to Richard Cranston throughout the evening meal.

She had managed to avoid his presence all day long. However, at dinner that evening, it was like he was different man, but of course other ears were present to hear if he made any unseemly moves. His flirtation seemed harmless enough and he was utterly charming, saying naught to offend her in any way. She thought herself mistaken, maybe she’d judged his previous behavior last night too harshly, and he had reacted by fighting back. She’d accused him of crude behavior and he’d acted accordingly. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

For the duration of the evening meal Richard was well-mannered, inquiring, solicitous. Showering his attentions on her. And she was the fly, falling into his spider’s web of deceit. She would learn very soon to always take her first impressions at face value.

Jacob was absent, his father having pressing business back in the city and he insisted Jacob come along back with the rest of the family since the elder Lord Westwood was prepping Jacob to take over the family’s business dealings, and so Jacob could meet his father’s business acquaintances and see how to handle the particular problems this contract entailed.

After Richard's stellar performance at dinner, which she swallowed whole, she found nothing amiss when he asked if she’d like to take a walk in the gardens. He was her father’s guest, and it would have been rude to refuse.

No sooner than the door closed behind them, Richard was all over her. Pressing her back against her the wall, his mouth devouring hers. She pushed against his shoulders with her hands, trying to push him away, nearly choking as he forced his way into her mouth. Her cry of protest captured, muted by his probing tongue.

He grabbed her wrists pushing them above her head capturing them in one hand, his mouth leaving hers, trailing biting kisses along her throat as his free hand molded itself around her breast. He gripped her painfully, and she whimpered, tears in her eyes accompanying her pleas for him to stop.

He paused meeting her gaze, “Just one kiss…milady,” he practically sneered the acknowledgement of who she was, “One kiss without you fighting me, you just might find you like it. Then we’ll have our walk.”

She met his gaze, a kiss for her freedom? “What’s the catch Richard?” She knew it could not be that simple, he was a complete bastard.

He put on his mock airs again, “Why Lady Rowena, you wound me, you accuse me of deception. I ask only a kiss, but I ask that it be a kiss in which you participate fully, if you understand my meaning. Do this and I will leave you be for the rest of the evening.”

“And that is all, milord?” She didn’t trust him one iota. He’d played her and she had proved herself a gullible fool, but if it would get her away from him she would cooperate.

“That is all,” His grip on her slackened, he had read the capitulation in her eyes, he released her wrists, sliding one arm around her waist drawing her body flush against him, his other hand going to her nape drawing her mouth his, his tongue slowly tracing the outline of her mouth, whispering chidingly, “Relax my dear. How can you enjoy anything with your body stiff as a board?”

She tried to obey him, even tried to pretend it was Jacob making these demands of her, and she at the least managed to relax her mouth to his attentions. His lips caressed hers, and she did not resist as his tongue begged entry.

She’d never been kissed like this before, and she gave no resistance, curiosity overcoming her and she felt strange sensations through her body as his tongue caressed the roof of her mouth, and she felt the need to taste him as he tasted her. Even as she knew the wrong of it, she brought her tongue forth to play with his, and they tasted and taunted each other until they were both breathless, and she was damn near mindless.

Only when he made the move to take it farther than the promised kiss did she react with any resistance. His hand covered her breast again and she pulled away. “Stop Richard, you said you would stop.”

The heat his eyes died rapidly, as he spit out a cruel remark, “Are you sure you’re the innocent you make out to be, my sweet? You kiss like a whore in a dockside tavern.”

Of its own accord her hand found his cheek with resounding force. He glared back at her. “Mark my words Rowena Kelly. It may not be tonight, or even tomorrow, but I want you in my bed. And I ALWAYS get what I want…”

*****

Rowena’s hands shook nervously as her fingers tried to tie the laces on the almost sheer nightdress and robe that had been laid out for the wedding night. They would leave little to Jacob’s imagination. She could only pray she would prove sufficiently enticing to keep him once she told him the truth. Even as she didn’t want to admit the truth to herself much less anyone else, the images of what another man had done to her body filled her thoughts again.



......Clearly, Richard Cranston—like the apparently spoiled child he must have been—had little patience when it came to acquiring something he wanted. She had been terrified when two strange men accosted her in the street, timing it well enough that even though it was mid-afternoon no one seemed to notice when they dragged her down the nearest side alley, where she suddenly found her hands bound behind her back, and a gag tied into her mouth. Despite her struggles, they made short work of getting her from one end of the alley to the other shoving her face first into the floor of the waiting coach. A secondary shove scooted her across the floor and the door was firmly slammed behind her and the coach began to move.. Even in the relative darkness she was aware that she was not alone. Before she had time to wonder who had done this, she heard his unmistakable chuckle.

“Not so high and mighty anymore are you “Lady” Rowena?”

Her gag muffled her words of protest and Richard laughed again. “I told you I would have you, and as you can see I’m a man of my word.”

Absolute fear raged throughout Rowena’s body, for she was not in a position to resist if he chose to rape her. It was as if he were reading her thoughts as he reached down and pulled her up onto her knees by her bound wrists. She was now kneeling at his feet as he cupped her chin and forced her gaze to meet his, “We can do this easy or we can do this rough, but one way or another my dearest little Rowena, you are mine until I decide otherwise. Do you understand? When I’m done you’ll be as skilled in pleasure as any whore. For my sweet beauty I intend to teach you well.”

Fear converted to fury, and her look shot daggers. He pulled her closer. One hand sliding between her bound wrists and her waist, drawing her body snug against him, the other pulling the gag from between her lips, only to replace it with the deep thrust of his tongue. His mouth moving over hers, even though she tensed and was trying to pull away--a pointless effort for she was well and truly his captive--his fingers grasping the back of her neck holding her immobile to his assault. Again a hand went to her breast, cupping and squeezing none too gently. She whimpered her protest; the cry of pain muted by his mouth over hers.

She tried to resist the power of his kiss, but her body was not immune any more than it was the last time. As his hand slipped inside her bodice to tease her nipple, her back quite involuntarily arched toward him. Strange ribbons of sensation unlike anything she’d ever known curled and pooled in her lower belly, causing some vague, yet hungry ache. He chuckled softly against her mouth, “See love…your body knows what it wants, you shameful little tease.”

“I do not want this, nor do I want you. Will you not see reason and let me go?”

“Liar. You’re body wishes the pleasures I can give it, if you but cooperate.”

“I do not. I love someone else. I despise you.”

“Fine by me, my dear, hatred or love matters not, both are capable of driving passion to the extreme. Yes, my dear, I shall introduce you to untold pleasures, but first there is the matter of retribution for striking me. For this your pleasure is unnecessary, however, my pleasure will be immediate, and I intend to take it now. ”

Pushing her back down to her knees in front of him, Rowena’s eyes widened in confusion and horror, completely unaware of his intentions, as he slowly undid the buttons on his trousers…

***

Rowena gave up on the laces, next trying to decide whether to wait for Jacob or go and crawl beneath the covers. She opted to crawl into the bed, her body trembling in nervous anticipation, or it at least that’s what she tried to tell herself. It couldn’t be her remembrance of the first of many humiliating moments she’d spent in the presence of Lord Richard Cranston.


… he pushed her to her knees, and he undid his trousers, and pushed them down below his hips, and Rowena saw for the first time what a man looked like beneath his pants. She had vague knowledge of what went on, no details mind you. So there was much speculation involved up to this point. She knew the mechanics so to speak where it went and what it caused, but she never thought much about it before, and always if the thought occurred it was with Jacob in mind, with his whispered sweet nothings and soft embraces and gentle chaste kisses.

So she was certainly ill-prepared when his hand tangled in her hair forcing her head between his legs, she whimpered as his fingers pulled her hair as he pushed her face toward his increasing erection, “Richard what …”

“Open wide, dearest” She balked as the realization dawned that Richard expected her to take him in her mouth.

“No.” The pain was intense as his hand hit her face, for he’d held her still and she’d had to take the full brunt of the blow.

“Now I’ll say it one more time, open your mouth my little slut.”

His hand tangled more tightly in her hair, the full measure of the pain causing her mouth to open as she cried out. Richard took advantage. Forcing her mouth down on his swollen shaft, and she gagged, as he finally muttered the words, halfway sounding like encouragement, but laced with warning at the same time as his fingers relaxed in her hair a little, although he pushed her head back and forth encouraging a rhythm, and his other hand stroked her throat, “C’mon, open wider, lass. Don’t you dare bite me either.”

No matter how much she objected, after the first blow she wasn’t stupid enough to ever consider such a thing. And Rowena gagged again, as he pushed steadily deeper into her throat, tears of shock and humiliation coursing down her face, the choking sobs erupting around Cranston’s cock working to his advantage, as he pushed steadily on until she’d taken almost his entire length.

When she accommodated him without gagging, he began to thrust in a steady rhythm, grunting and groaning his pleasure, and she was catching on quickly to what she deemed the unseemly world of carnal pleasure, for if she knew only one thing from what was happening to her right now and that this certainly in the category of sin. For she was well aware that the purpose of intercourse was supposed to be producing children and this certainly would not produce a baby. And she knew just as well she would die of shame and humiliation before she ever revealed this unspeakable act to anyone.

She closed her eyes and just let him take her, as it were, she was in no position to resist, and she had no desire for him to strike her again. Slowly she became accustomed to his thrusting and was no longer choking and gagging. She only prayed this degradation was over soon. 

Her prayer was granted shortly as he withdrew his thrusting member from her mouth, his fist closing around it as he continued the same rhythm. His hand in her hair remained, continuing to hold her immobile and he came, spurts of white fluid coming to rest all over her face and in her hair. He released her hair and gave her body a shove and she fell back, She whimpered in pain; the back of her head having hit the opposite seat before her lack of balance and her tied hands left her sprawled unnaturally on the carriage floor.

“My sweet virgin whore, next time I expect you to swallow it all.”

She didn’t allow the “swallow it all” part to penetrate, still too stunned at what he’d done just done with her, but what she did catch however was “the next time.”

She looked up into his face, seeing nothing but lust and sneering indifference to anything she thought or felt. Still she was compelled to ask. “Richard, please milord, when are you going to release me? You know my family will be looking for me. ”

“Do you really think so my pet?” He bent down pulling her back up so that she was once again on her knees, his fingers stroking across her hair, like he would do to sooth an agitated animal. “They will not find it amiss, my dear; they think you are staying at the least overnight at your dear friend Maggie’s.

“They will find nothing suspicious in your absence unless you choose to reveal it and then what would become of your precious reputation? Face it, love, you are at my mercy, and you best be obedient, for I am often in inclined to bouts of behavior which are far from merciful. You are mine now for as long I choose to keep you. Do not cross me and I’ll not hurt you. Do we understand each other?”

Her gaze dropped to the floor in front of her, she knew it was simply a matter of time before he would have her ruined completely. She mumbled a profane curse beneath her breath.

“What was that?” he asked grasping her chin firmly, forcing her gaze to his, and she saw Richard’s pleased smile at the defeat in her eyes. He was enjoying this far too much.

“I understand milord. Richard please untie me.”

“Not yet, you have more lessons to learn before I will allow that…”

*****

Richard had refused to untie her and she found out why shortly. He did, however remove her from her place on the carriage floor at his feet. He moved her onto the opposite seat. She glared at him accusingly as he slipped the gag back into her mouth. “Can’t have the driver hearing your screams of pleasure now can we lass?”

Rowena knew that although the screams would be hers, the pleasure was going to be solely Richard’s. As if to confirm her thought, his hand closed roughly around her breast, and he squeezed tight and she gave a muffled yelp of pain as her tears began again. “If you keep crying out like that every time I touch you, I’ll be forced to think you don’t want me. You don’t want me to think that now do you, lass?”

Rowena’s eyes found the floor again, and she didn’t have to see his face, she could feel the disapproval in his gaze. She was surprised that he didn’t strike her again; however instead, he jerked her forward, his fingers unerringly finding the laces on the back of the dress. He slid the garment from her shoulders, inhaling sharply at the revelation of her cleavage rising above the bodice of her chemise, the narrow waist beneath the tightly bound corset, only accenting the swell of her breasts above it. 

“Such lovely treasures, my dear, you thought to deny me this” He grasped her chin and forced her eyes to his, “I expect you to share them on demand henceforth.” His mouth found her throat as he whispered his next demand, “along with anything else I require of you.”

She closed her eyes against the onslaught, flinching slightly at the first touch his mouth against her throat, his hands gliding smooth and gentle across her shoulders, such a sharp contrast to his behavior only minutes earlier. His fingers sliding beneath the white linen fabric, pushing the material downward slowly, the pace of her heartbeat increasing, as she anticipated the contact of him against her body.

Moments later he’d laid her breasts bare to his clearly lusting gaze, and his hands moved lightly across them, his tongue between his teeth, clearly anticipating the response as her body betrayed her completely. The nipples pebbled and then peaked, the hard erect nubs demanding his mouth. The strange ache between her legs returned, more intense than before, and she unwittingly squirmed, proclaiming fully what she still did not yet understand, and nonetheless Richard knew full what level of arousal he was taking her to. He was going to have her begging him to take her virginity before he was done with her. Begging for it.

Her breasts were already begging, and he could not let them suffer from lack of his attentions. His hands cupped the mounds and he lowered his head, first tracing his tongue lightly around a nipple, then drawing the firm peak into the heat of his mouth. He slowly closed his teeth lightly around the nipple, ever so slowly increasing the pressure. When she arched slightly beneath the fleeting pain he released it, and moved to repeat the procedure on the other.

If it hadn’t been so dark in the carriage, Richard would have been even further delighted by the shameful flush which was washing through her body as he released the second nipple and her mind screamed for him to return to it.

What was wrong with her?

She didn’t want this, and still her body screamed for more. She hated Richard Cranston. Involuntarily she whimpered, and given his meticulous attention to detail he didn’t miss it or mistake it for anything other than it was. He was gloating with triumph, “See whore you want it, and you’ll not convince me otherwise. And you’ll want it more before I’m done.”

His mouth covered her breasts again this time with ferocity, his teeth no longer tugged gently with light pain, but covered her ample bosom with nipping bites, and she whimpered again at the pain. Again he pushed the gag from her mouth, delving deep again with his tongue, making a thrusting movement in and out of her mouth similar to what he done with his manhood before, and to her utter shame she responded, suckling at his tongue, trying to draw it even deeper.

What kind of wanton behavior was this?

Was it his threat to turn her into a whore, or her inability to prevent whatever he chose to do that allowed her the freedom to explore the sensations he was evoking in her? Did it take responsibility for her defilement from her? How could she enjoy what he was doing to her?  With the final remnant of resistance she could manage she pulled her mouth from his turning her head from his kiss, fresh tears overwhelming her.

“Come Rowena, do you not understand your resistance is futile? Your compliance will come, rest assured I’ll see to that, Do not fight me dearest. You only prolong your own discomfort and there is more pleasure to be had than you have ever dreamed possible. Already your body begs me for more, but what comes next for you will not happen here in the coach.”

At last she found her voice again although it was no longer tinged with defiance, but with resignation, “Where are you taking me?” 

She glanced up at his face, for a change she saw not cruelty but simple amusement. Richard chuckled, “So many questions, Rowena. I can see them in your eyes.” 

He righted her dress, and tied the laces back loosely just tight enough to keep it from falling down again.

And he pulled her across on the seat next to him. ‘Now my girl, let’s see how well you have learned your lessons thus far.”

His fingers stroked the line of her throat, his gaze meeting hers and she read his eyes. He moved toward her, and her lips parted to receive his kiss.

She trembled, with his hands clutching her shoulders as his tongue plunged again into her mouth, sweeping her away on those strange sensations yet again. She kissed him back as if she were starving, and when he pulled back from the kiss, she leaned toward him, with a whimper of loss.

Richard met her gaze with a raised brow, “So you want it now, do you?”

She looked away; clearly ashamed of what she was feeling, “No I do not want it. I don’t even understand what’s happening to me.”

He tilted her gaze again, his voice calm, even tender, “I hate that society teaches you girls to deny your sensuality. That carnal pleasures equate with mortal sins. You should be taught to embrace passion and pleasure, instead you are taught to run from desire, to hide behind cloaks of morality, virtue and virginity. Because rest assured lass, men truly prefer whores over angels.

His thumb stroked her cheek softly as he watched the struggle within her, “Come my falling angel, kiss me again.” Tears of shame and confusion streamed down her cheeks, even as she obeyed him without hesitation…..



“Rowena!” Jacob’s voice broke her trance, his hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently and she swiped at the tears that were mimicking the ones in her vision of things past. “My darling, what is wrong?” he asked joining her on the bed.

She threw herself into his strong embrace, clinging to him desperately. “Swear to me you’ll never leave me.”

Jacob pushed her back, looking into her frightened eyes. A gentle hand stroking her damp cheeks, “Why would I leave you?” He was genuinely concerned. “You and you alone are the one desire of my heart.”

“I must tell you the truth of it Jacob, it would be known soon anyway, but I pray you can forgive me and that it will remain our secret.”

“Secret? What are you on about Rowena?”

She pushed away from him and removed herself from the bed. She couldn’t bring herself look at him, and she forced the damning words from her mouth. “I am no virgin, Jacob.”

“This is no time for jest Rowena.”

She turned to face him, “I swear Jacob, I do not jest. It has been almost three years since my virtue was wrested from me against my will.”

He rose from the bed, moving to her side, “You were raped?” There was naught but concern in his eyes, his hand cupping her cheek then drawing her into his arms.

“It depends on how one would define rape…” she said into his shoulder. She clung to him yet again, her body trembling in his embrace.

“You say it was against your will, do you not?” She heard the anger growing in his voice, praying it was going to be directed against a dead man, not a living woman.

“I did not wish it Jacob; I swear I did nothing to encourage him. But he was determined to have me. He pursued me relentlessly. Never was he subtle and he made me… ”

She saw the outrage in his eyes, growing stronger by the moment, fury like she’d never seen in him before overwhelming him. “Give me his name Rowena, that I may call him out, avenge your honor…”

“Let it go Jacob, there naught that you may do to avenge me. My tormentor is dead, nigh on six months now.”

“His name Rowena, I would still have it,” his hand tilted her chin up so she had no choice but meet his gaze. “I would know who dared touch what is mine.” She was heartened by the protective, possessive tone he exhibited.

“I never knew one so handsome could be so wicked. He was such a horrible man Jacob. No wonder someone finally murdered him.”

The knowledge of Rowena’s… Rowena’s….. oh hell, the cause of her misery, slammed full force into his consciousness. He spoke the name demanding confirmation, “It was Cranston, wasn’t it, my love?”

“I swear to you Jacob, I tried to resist him, but he would not give up, I did well enough, until he had ruffians accost me in the street and they delivered me to him bound and gagged. Once he had me, there was little I could do to stop him, and after the first time he struck me, I was terrified not to obey his wishes.”

She’d hoped Jacob would let it rest there, but she was not to be so lucky. He read between the lines—of course he did, he knew her too well. She only wanted to forget; to put it behind them, move ahead with Jacob into a happy future. He was going to demand it all, every detail, to be turned and judged before he was satisfied. He confirmed it with his next question, his voice suddenly taking on a cold note, like he could already see it without her saying it. “And exactly what were Cranston’s wishes, Rowena?”

She looked away, “Jacob please…. don’t make me…, you know how much I love you.”

“That is beside the point Rowena,” she could hear it in his voice, the hurt, the jealousy, the fury, the disappointment. Cranston was dead; there was no one alive for him to blame but her. “You are my wife now, and if you expect to remain so I expect your obedience. You will tell me, so that I may judge it for myself. You did not trust me enough to tell me before the ceremony. And I find that disturbs me very much. Why did you not tell me before? Unless there was something to hide. I will know every detail and you know I will know if you lie."

She knew he was right, but how in the world was she supposed to tell him that Cranston had made her desire him?

*****

“I will know if you lie.“

Jacob’s tone was earnest and there was no doubt in Rowena’s mind that he would know, if she said anything untrue on this matter. She had to make him understand it was not her choice much less her doing.

“Where do I start?” Rowena asked, reaching out to Jacob, her hand resting on his tentatively, seeking some sort of reassurance, “His unsuitable behavior, began the night of the spring ball, right after you left me to dance with him. He started making not so subtle advances and inappropriate suggestions.” 

Jacob did not push her away, but he did not draw her close either. He merely waited, his eyes meeting hers expectantly. He clearly sensed how nervous she was, “And?”

She could not look at him and speak. “This is so difficult, Jacob.”

“I will not make you look at me, but I will have the truth—all of it, woman.”

This was a different Jacob for her, his tone harsh and condemning, but what was she to expect? He’d expected a virgin wife, not Richard’s Cranston’s castoff whore. He had every right to condemn, to cast her aside, unless she gave the words that would make him forgive her.“ He made me do things to him, told me he was going to teach me how to give pleasure like a whore. He said men prefer “whores to angels” and that he was going to make me his whore.”

“And did he Rowena? Did he make you a whore? Did you give yourself willingly to his advances? Or did you fight for your virtue?” 

The accusation triggered Rowena’s temper, something else she could thank Richard Cranston for. She’d never been quick to anger in the past, but in this moment it was a good thing as it triggered the urge to fight back.

She raised her gaze to Jacob’s. “How was I supposed to fight him Jacob? What could I do? Trapped in his moving coach, my hands tied behind me.  He made me take his…, his….” a humiliated flush crossed her face, the shame worse now in relating it than the actual incident had been. 

For the first time a hint of compassion flashed in Jacob’s eyes, realizing the confession she was making was tearing her inside out, and he was slowly becoming less outraged and even curious at exactly what kind pleasures Rowena was now capable of bestowing.  Besides which the man was dead. No one need know of her disgrace but him, “Rowena, don’t tell me what he made you do, show me…”

“Jacob!” How could he ask her to repeat the humiliating things Lord Cranston had made her do.

“Well dearest, let me see the whore he claims to have made of you. Prove to me your worth in the pleasure you give me, since I have been denied your virginity. I have wanted you and waited for you for far too long. Make my wait worthwhile. Virgin or not, we are not married without consummation. If you wish to remain my wife then show me…”

Rowena stared at him, stunned by his demand, but his gaze was unyielding. But then she saw past his fury, and she saw his lust, the unmistakable look. She’d seen it in Cranston’s eyes, Jacob still wanted her, it was just clouded by anger and disappointment, and if she was to keep him it was to be on his terms. If they could get through the wedding night, and Jacob had time, he’d return to his old self. The one who was gentle, and then she considered the possibility that gentle might not be what she herself preferred, although she certainly didn’t want the forced encounters she’d shared with Cranston, but the sensations and pleasured heights she would not object to.

She had sworn to obey and to that end she had no choice but seduce her husband like some tainted harlot, “All right Jacob, I shall show you, but be aware, what I do—I do this time willingly, where he forced me. Shall you have me strip naked before you or just pleasure you as I am?”

Jacob’s eyes scanned her body through the nearly sheer ensemble she wore, her dark nipples beneath the gauzy fabrics, and the dark thatch between her legs. He bit at his lower lip as he stared as his bride, she was so beautiful and he’d never wanted any woman but her, and it hurt that he was not her first, and instead of timid virgin, he had a sexually experienced woman before him, and as her husband it was his right to sample whatever favors he chose.

He felt his arousal swelling in his pants, and he couldn’t stand the waiting any longer, maybe if he attained release, he’d be better able to deal with the rest of it. “You will pleasure me naked, whatever he made you do in that coach you shall do for me, now. “

“Shall you bind my arms behind me Jacob, hold my head still while you make me take your manhood into my mouth by force, or shall you be gentle about it and let me do it in my own way? Shall you hit me if I refuse, or not do things to your liking? For he did all that and more. Any refusal by me met with the blows of his hands. Be it gagged and bound in the coach or… or…” 

Jacob blanched at what she was saying, the bastard had truly given her no choice, was his pride—wounded by disappointment and jealousy—more important than the love he felt her? Rowena might consider it punishment, but Jacob expected it now to be an education, for she would certainly know more of carnal pleasure than he would. He had bedded no woman; they were supposed to learn about joys of the marital bed together. His greatest fear now was that she would find him lacking after having shared a bed with such a reputed rake as Richard Cranston. He was suddenly trying to disguise his fear of inadequacy beneath a mantle of outrage.

His gaze met the fear of rejection in her eyes, the expectation that he would cast her aside. How could she think such a thing? He’d loved Rowena since they were children, had been in love with Rowena since the first time he’d danced with her in her first season in London. 

He reached out for her. “I am not Cranston, Rowena, you know I would never hurt you.”

He stroked her cheek with his fingers. “I…, I know not how to handle this. I was supposed to be your first, my dearest love, but how am I to make love to you, knowing what he did to you, and you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about it then, when I could have satisfied your honor. “

“You’re not thinking clearly, Jacob.” She leaned into his caress, and then leaned against him, her arms going around him as she realized he would not cast her aside. “Bringing it to light would likely have resulted in my being permanently bound to a man who thought of nothing but himself, and what new ways he could devise to humiliate me, both in and out of his bed. You know my father would have insisted on marriage to Cranston, I could not bear the thought.  Always, Jacob, thoughts of you and the possibility of our life together kept me going…Kiss me Jacob, please…” 

He’d never been able to deny her any request, and she never made them selfishly, so he did as she asked, followed her lead into the world the sensual pleasure. Even as Rowena tried to force Cranston from her mind the best she could accomplish was substituting Jacob’s face for Cranston as she remembered clearly her loss of innocence….


The coach stopped, and not only did Rowena find the gag removed, but only for a moment as it was then retied very securely, but she found herself blindfolded as well. Richard chuckled at her garbled protest, and renewed struggles, “Behave little slut,” and then he  crushed her breast again a painful grip, “I would hate to punish you, darling.”

Rowena fumed silently, in her muted darkness. He would revel in punishing her and she knew it all too well. She could only pray there would not be too much pain.

She heard the coach door open, felt the chill and knew it must be dark outside by now. She heard Richard’s steps as he disembarked the carriage and his hand as he reach for her, surprisingly gentle as he set her standing on the ground. He gripped her upper arm, whispering instruction, “Walk normally, the way is smooth, I shall not let you fall.”

When she hesitated to move forward, his hand moved from her arm to her hair—of which he grabbed a fistful. His tone cruel and sneering, “I said walk, little angel.”

She moved forward, ever aware of him keeping to her pace by her side. “Stop” he said quietly and let go of her hair, she hear the opening of a door, and he spoke again, “There is single step up in front of you.”

She stepped upward and he pushed her across the threshold. He instructed her to move further into the room and she heard the door close behind them, the click of the tumblers as the door was locked. She felt him behind her, his lips moving down her neck and across her shoulders and his fingers at her laces allowing the dress to fall down like in the coach, and suddenly both his hands moved to her breasts and he squeezed them roughly, and she cried out behind the gag. He chuckled softly, “Time for your next lesson, milady…”

“I’m going to untie your hands, Rowena,” he said his voice hot against her ear, his tone menacing, and fear coursing throughout her body. “Do not dare touch the gag or blindfold, lass, or I promise you’ll not like the result. Do as you’re told and all will be well. Do you understand?”

She nodded, and she whimpered in pain as her abused muscles cried out in agony as they resumed normal position after being bound for several hours. On reflex, despite the pain, her hands automatically went to shield what he was exposing. “I did not give you permission to cover yourself. Hands by your side, slut.”

She was mortified as she felt the dress slide down her arms, past her waist and then her hips and it pooled around her feet. Then she felt his hands behind her again and he unlaced her corset, and then he grabbed the chemise and drew the garment up and over her head. All that remained were her knickers, and his hands moved boldly across her body in firm sweeping strokes, meant to taunt and inflame the senses. She felt the sensations in her belly again and she struggled mentally with the fact he could make her feel such things against her will even as she tried to stand still as he commanded.

Richard seemed to sense that she’d cling desperately to the last vestige of her modesty and he proceeded to grab her hands and retie them although this time they were in front of her. She allowed it without struggle, still too shocked to be so naked, and having no idea if she and Richard were alone. Then his hands were at her waist, then gliding down her hips, taking the final garment from her body.

He drug her naked body flush against his, one hand pushing her arms upward, holding them by the rope above her head, his free hand skimming down across her abdomen, grazing the edge of the dark hair at the apex of her thighs. Then trailing his fingers slowly back up her body—her waist, the valley between her firm round breasts, the nipples peaking in spite of her wishes otherwise, tracing a line across her breastbone, skimming lightly up the line of her throat, his hand slipped behind her neck, his fingers working loose the knot in the gag. It fell away, as he bent his head and took her mouth in a fiery, questing kiss, and she moaned against his lips, once again in spite of herself, and her tongue thrust back to meet his with diminishing reluctance.

Suddenly she found herself swept up in his arms and felt him walking, his stride certainly purposeful and in moments her curiosity was satisfied, as she was deposited on top of cool sheets on a soft bed. He used the ropes on her wrists to guide her, “Lay down.”

She thought to protest, but feared he’d gag her yet again. What was he going to do to her now? He pressed her down onto her back, pulling the bound wrists above her head again. He settled his weight over her, trapping her body beneath his, both his hands moving to her bound wrists. He undid her bonds, taking her left hand and tucking it between their bodies, trapping it between them and then he took her right wrist stretching the arm out tautly and she felt him tying it again. Then he did the same with the left one.

Then his hands removed the blindfold, and she blinked. Thankfully the lighting in the room was low and she glanced around at her surroundings. Two oil lamps, and a fire dancing in the fireplace. If Richard suspected she was deliberately not meeting his gaze, he gave no indication, and she finally brought her gaze to his, wondering if she were free to speak now.

She also avoided acknowledging the fact that she was completely naked. He spoke, praising her cooperation thus far, as if she’d had a choice in the matter. He removed his body from atop hers, “You will watch me undress, milady, tis time for your next lesson, and my next pleasure.”

Rowena did not like the nature of the remark, for again it addressed his pleasure not her preference, which was to be free from his grasp, and she garnered enough courage to speak, “Richard, please, don’t do this to me, please don’t…”

He moved back to her, anger flashing in his eyes at her attempt at defiance. His hand found her throat, squeezing slightly, enough to cause her discomfort and a new rush of fear. “Shut up! Do not make me gag you again—I wish to hear you when you are begging me to take you, and you will beg—I promise you, my little whore—you will beg.”

His hand left her throat, sliding downward, tracing her breastbone. “See lass, you’re tits are begging already,” and it was true her nipples were peaking at the sound of his voice, and the coarse words coming from his mouth. The sensations in her belly began to swirl in fresh ribbons, curling and gathering, the vague ache there once more. Richard’s fingers continued downward, across her belly, moving to stroke the curls between her thighs, she closed her legs together tightly. “Rowena, open your legs.”

She knew her resistance was a stupid, futile gesture, but her pride demanded it. Not only did she try to keep them tight together, she closed her eyes in her determination. Richard’s retribution was swift, her head jerking to one side at the impact of his hand when he slapped her face. Tears welled in her eyes, and she opened her eyes to meet his furious gaze, but she did not open her legs for him. He glared at her, “Why must you continually make this difficult, it is inevitable my girl, I will have all I want of you and you know this. Open your legs…”

“No.”

Richard drew back his hand to strike her again and then reconsidered. He could not run the risk of leaving her face bruised. “Then I’ll spread them for you…”

He grabbed her left leg and pulled it outward tying it with the ropes already attached to the foot of the four poster bed. She struggled but the battle was lost before it began, but she could at least say she tried. He repeated it with her right leg leaving some slack in the ropes but she could not close them together again, and fresh shame coursed through her, knowing that her most intimate self was now exposed to his gaze and she could do nothing whatsoever to stop him…. And she felt a sudden wetness slip from the core of her womanhood.

Richard caught the lost look on her face as she tried to figure out what her body was doing, trying to understand this latest betrayal. He grinned as he grazed his fingers across the now damp dark curls, “Yes, my girl, you’re coming around aren’t you.”

“I will never consent.”

He chuckled, moving away from the bed. “Do you not understand lass, consent is irrelevant now, you are mine, and I will tell you only once more, You will watch me undress, and then---“ he laughed again, “Your body will be mine in every sense of the word. And it will not be rape, love, for you will ask me to take you.”

“Never.” She repeated. She struggled against the ropes binding her to the bed. The effort was useless. He returned to her side, moved his hand, ghosting across her peaking nipples, and her slight unconscious arching.

“Never say ‘never’, my dear. You can’t stop anything…”

To prove his point, his fingers moved lower, and he sat down beside her as he pushed a single finger into the moist folds, penetrating her womanhood. She whimpered at the sensation. He stroked the finger into her a few times,  watching her hips try to follow when he withdrew it. He moved away from her and began to take off his clothes.

Rowena stared with fascination as he stripped his clothes, even if she’d not been under a direct command, she could not take her eyes from him. She thought with a sense of regret that he was not as beautiful inside as he was outwardly. Only someone who’d fallen prey to his dark side could possibly comprehend, the trace of menace and danger in his otherwise innocent looking smiles. She moved her legs restlessly as much as the slack allowed, however her shoulders were immobile, he’d allowed her none there whatsoever and it was genuinely uncomfortable.

Her gaze did not falter as his upper body was steadily bared to her gaze,--the broad, powerful shoulders, the broad chest, her gazed following downward, the narrowed waist. He turned away a moment while removing his shoes and she watched the muscles in his back and shoulders ripple as he bent forward and then as he raised back up. He turned back to face her as he unbuttoned his trousers, and pushed the trousers and what he wore beneath down his legs, and stepped out of them. Once again her gaze came to rest on his manhood, once again standing hard and proud to her gaze.

Only when she realized he was watching her face did she glance away, her curiosity yet again getting the better of her. Had she really taken that in her mouth?

“Time for your next lesson my dearest Rowena. Time to learn what it is to be a woman.”

“Please Richard, please don’t hurt me any more, let me go…”

“How much I hurt you depends on you lass, if you merely accept the inevitable and relax you might just find you want it—and me.”

He returned to stand beside the bed. Raking his eyes boldly down her naked curves, the wide spread of her legs exposing the core of her femininity. “Again I say, relax—and you’re like to find pleasure that never occurred to you. Fight me and rest assured the pain I’ve inflicted thus far will seem like nothing compare what I can do to you.” 

A cruel smile curved at the corner of his mouth as he watched her entire body flush before him, her humiliation at being so exposed clearly written in her face as she looked away from him. “Don’t fight me, just let go and feel,” His hand in direct contrast to the previous threat was gentle, turning her gaze  back to his,  “Listen not to me, but your body, follow what it tells you. Resist yourself if you must. But to resist is to deny yourself. Your curiosity alone is testament that you are not immune, that you feel something when I touch and kiss you.”

She felt shamed to the core at the truth of his words, the strange curling, coiling sensation every time he’d probed her mouth with his tongue, the responses she had given against her will. His fingers skimmed her cheek soothingly, softly and her eyes met his, in surprise that he could be so gentle with her. “We are passionate creatures, Rowena, and once more I must insist that pleasure is no sin. There is passion in you, and I will expose it. I want you Rowena, and I want you to want me, and I know how to make you want me; and I will not release you until I’ve achieved both desires.”

His hand moved from caressing her face, gliding slowly down her throat, tracing her breastbone, around her breast, brushing his thumb across the tip of each in turn, grinning triumphantly over the hard peaking nipples, skimming over her abdomen, grazing the pelvic curls, again, skimming across her feminine folds, smiling at the dampness she could not conceal. “See Rowena, your body seeks this pleasure.”

She closed her eyes, praying to awake from her nightmare. This nightmare where she felt things for a man she despised. Things she should not feel. She should only feel this way for someone she loved. Was she a wanton whore like Richard proclaimed? She did not want Richard Cranston, she couldn’t. She couldn’t. And even if she did, she’d never admit it. To anyone, ever –not even herself. “Rowena look at me…”

“No” She closed her eyes even tighter, and was quickly reward by Richard’s temper.

He did not strike her, but he did make sure she felt his displeasure, his fingers twisting the nipple until she cried out in pain. “I said open your eyes. Why do you insist on making this difficult? I can take my pleasure without you getting yours, but that does not achieve what I wish from you.”

“You may take me by force, Richard, but I will not be your whore…” her tone was full of the contempt she still held for him.

“Do you think so? You’ll be whatever I demand you be. And right now I say you’ll no longer be a virgin! You try my patience, milady, and I wish it did not have to be so, but you bring it on yourself!”

Rowena suddenly found herself crushed beneath the full weight of Richard’s body, he settled himself with his hips between her thighs, she felt the strength of his fury above her, he reached between them positioning his manhood at her entrance and his other hand clamped down over her mouth. She felt his muscles tense as he flexed his hips and he hissed in her ear, “You refuse to be my whore? As you wish milady” and she screamed into his palm as he thrust forward, tearing brutally through her maidenhead, and impaling her on his full length.

She felt ripped in two, the pain searing and deep. He did not wait for her pain to abate, he continued in his rage, thrusting into her again and again. Suddenly he ceased, on the deepest part of a penetrating thrust and she felt the spasms of his erection as he emptied within her. His hand slipped from her mouth, and she drew at last a deep breath. Her body trembled beneath his, tears streamed down her cheeks. At last he withdrew from her, and she felt a gush of fluids, his offering and the blood of her maidenhead, and it wet the bed beneath her. She struggled to find words to say, and was about to voice her hurt and outrage when she found herself gagged yet again.

He slid his trousers back on, and just left her there without even bothering to cover her with even a sheet. Left her alone to contemplate what had just happened. The pain was steadily fading, but she felt so exposed; even more naked than before. She sobbed into the gag as she heard the door lock behind him.