His Lordship's Lap Page 12

  “Their opinion of me is already very poor. Why would you add to my disgrace?”

  “You are thinking like those from Britain, not as a citizen of Man. I promised that I won’t force myself on you, but I will take some liberties as I see fit so that you will never want anyone other than me. If I don’t, I fear that I will lose you to the turmoil.”

  “You will?” Vanessa asked with a light laugh. “I’ve never heard of such an excuse. That goes against being a gentleman, you know.”

  “I’m not always a gentleman, but I am very possessive. You are mine, and I don’t want anyone interfering with me having you. Tell me the truth.” He pulled away and looked straight at her. “If not for your sensibilities and fear of judgment, would you allow me to make love to you?”

  Feeling the heat rise to her face, she slowly nodded. “I fear that I would not only agree to your advances but pursue them. I have a need inside of me that is unquenchable. Even large garden vegetables don’t satisfy it.” Her confession was humiliating, but sincere.

  His eyes lit with joy. “Good! That is all I wanted to know. Let’s go home.”

  “Does that desire make me a whore?” she asked.

  “Not at all! I want a woman who is passionate in all aspects of her life, especially behind closed doors. I never understood why women are labeled as whores if they want pleasure, but men are praised for simply being men.”

  “Because this is a man’s society and it justifies his behavior. This storm seems to be worsening,” she commented as Harrison hurried her to the carriage under his oilskin umbrella. The wind whipped it from his hands just as he ushered her inside.

  Muttering a curse, he jumped in next to her. “The summer storms can be violent, but also incredibly beautiful. Does thunder frighten you?”

  “Not at all. I happen to love inclement weather and find it exciting. This is an unusual coach. I can’t recall ever seeing one quite like it.” She observed the boxlike buggy that provided a snug, warm enclosure and curled up on the padded bench.

  “There is no reason for a driver to be subjected to miserable weather, so I designed a hooded vehicle.”

  “I thought you liked the rain and getting wet,”

  “I do, but I don’t like to be cold. There are times, such as now when being soaked to the skin is not desired.” The man lit a little coal foot stove at their feet and placed a soft pillow behind Vanessa’s back. “Give this a few minutes and it will become quite comfortable in here. Take off your shoes and tuck your toes under my thigh.”

  “Thank you. You are spoiling me, you know.”

  “I like to spoil my girls, especially one that I plan to fall in love with one day. Are you settled? Let’s get going. The road is very dark and filled with holes, so we need to take our time and not risk hurting the horse.”

  “Isn’t that poor animal going to get cold?” she asked, trying to peer out the front windowpane. The pelting rain obscured the shadows cast by the oil lantern that hung from the carriage’s hook making it impossible to check on the condition of the horse.

  “I have a weatherproof blanket over it. Don’t worry; I take very good care of my possessions.”

  His possessions? She was one of them now, but was that such a bad thing? They drove carefully along the pitch black road, kept warm and dry by the enclosed ‘hood’ of the buggy. The sound of the rain against the roof and the splashing of the horse’s hooves in the puddles reminded Vanessa of a symphony orchestra that she had heard during a ball several years prior. Like the sound of the storm, the music had been eerie, breathtaking and dynamic.

  “Why are we stopping?” she asked after all evidence of civilization was out of their view.

  He parked the buggy beneath the branches of a copse of trees and turned to her. “Because I want to enjoy this solitude with you. There is nothing more invigorating and sensual than a powerful thunderstorm and flashes of lightening while the rain comes down around you. Come closer to me.”

  Snuggling next to his body, she silently watched the magnificent storm as it raged around them. His hand on her hip provided a sense of comfort and protection, but then she felt it drift to her thigh. She hesitated as he slipped his fingers under her skirts to caress the bare flesh of her bottom with a calloused palm.

  “Just what do you think you are doing? I didn’t give my leave for you to touch me, did I?” she asked saucily, trying to ease her discomfort regarding the unexpected show of intimacy.

  “You know that you needn’t feel obligated to put up a fuss in fear that I will have the wrong impression of you,” he said calmly. “In addition, I already have your leave to spank this bottom, remember?”

  “Spank me? Here and now? But why? I thought you weren’t angry.”

  “I’m not angry in the least, but I do know of a naughty young lady who needs to be reminded of who is responsible for making her happy and fulfilled.”

  The flickering light from the outside lantern wasn’t bright enough to allow her to see his facial expression, but a sudden flash of lightening revealed a slightly playful smirk that was thick with lust.

  “Please, don’t take me. I’m not ready for that,” she said nervously, realizing that she was complete without any resources to protect herself from the large man if he wished to have her.

  “I gave you my word, girl. Turn over my knee,” he ordered.

  “I don’t want a spanking.”

  “I didn’t ask your permission now, did I? Do as I tell you.” His tone was commanding but not severe, enticing her to challenge him and explore the boundaries of mischief and obedience.

  “Make me.” Vanessa blamed her sudden streak of bravery on the roaring tempest around them, but the truth was that she wanted him. Being away from other people and in the middle of a raging storm gave the sense of being in another existence and one that she did not want to leave. Even in the small carriage, surrounded by Mother Nature’s tantrum, she felt safe and very, very aroused.

  “Are you refusing to obey my instructions to bend your bottom across my lap?” Instead of waiting for her response, he snatched her arm and effortlessly tossed her face down over his solid thighs. Her struggles were useless as he slid the skirts to her waist and bared her twisting bottom under the cup of his hand. He smacked her right cheek, making her yip with surprise, and then brushed his hand up between her thighs.

  “You little vixen. Tell me that you want this, Vanessa,” he demanded with a portentous tone that bordered on the edge of sinister. He smacked her again and left a sharp sting on the left side. “Do you deny your need?”

  “No,” she answered hoarsely. “I can’t lie to you.

  “Say it! Tell me what you want.”

  “I want more! I want to feel your hand on my skin. I want to know that I belong to you!” she shouted over the thunder. Her words echoed in the small space of the carriage, and all grew silent. Appalled, she attempted to explain herself. “What I mean is… is…”

  “I know exactly what you mean.” His fingers grew bolder as they ventured against her wetness. “I can feel your arousal. I want to take you to new heights and challenge your needs while I challenge my own. Give me your leave and your trust. This will be the only time I will ask.”

  It wasn’t a request; it was an ultimatum and one that she didn’t wish to refuse. Clinging to his trousers, pausing only to listen to the wind whipping around outside of the little vehicle, she whispered “Yes.”

  His palm splatted against her bottom again, this time leaving in its wake a smoldering burn. Another swat followed, landing on the back of her thigh where the tender little crease met bottom to leg. The smacks were relentless, deliberate and increased in strength and velocity until the tension grew to the precipice of the intolerable. She cried out, her voice joining the echoes of flesh meeting flesh against the confined walls of the carriage. He wrapped his right leg between her ankles and forced her legs apart, and then shifted her body forward so that he could tuck his left arm across her back and underneath her slen
der torso. Not once did he miss bouncing his hand off her tender backside as his other hand found her hungry slit.

  Each strike of his palm compounded against the last, yet the pain dissolved into desire as his fingers drew her wetness to her clit and began to encircle the hard little nub. Her moans spurred him to redouble his efforts, and the spanking was intensified as he simultaneously flicked and pinched at the center of her need. She panted and whimpered, cried and begged but her words lost all sense and meaning as the spanking ceased. Pain was replaced by pleasure as his long fingers slid into her body and pressed against the soft walls of her womanhood. He teased her clit while plunging his fingers in and out with slow, demanding strokes and brought forth waves of pleasured groans that sang in harmony with the roaring wind.

  Her panting breath increased, her muscles tightened, and she released her body to his control. Every muscle seized with the touch of his hands, causing her to shudder and shiver as pleasure poured over her. Finally, she collapsed like a limp rag doll over the fleshy platform of his thighs, realizing that she would never again return to the vegetable garden for her sexual satisfaction; not as long as she had access to his incredible fingers.

  ***

  “I will be sleeping next to you tonight,” Harrison announced as they drove back to the manor.

  “Yes.” she whispered.

  “Are you all right? You don’t have a chill, do you?” he asked with concern.

  “No. I just am a little overwhelmed. I wasn’t expecting what you did to be so…”

  “Incredible? Amazing? Marvelous?” He filled in the words.

  She glanced in his direction, amused by the description he selected for his ability to pleasure her. “Actually, the word I was searching for was satisfying. But yes, it was also those other things. Is it always like that, or was the experience due to being surrounded by a storm?”

  “I would hope that it was always like that,” he chuckled. “That was only a taste of what a good girl will receive from me.”

  “I still don’t understand why you asked my permission for anything. Couldn’t you just make the demand and see it through?”

  “Would you prefer it to be that way?”

  “Part of me says ‘yes’, but the other stands in protest.”

  “Until we are married, I prefer to provide the opportunity for your consent. I’m aware of your concern about maintaining a certain appearance, so I am granting you this small sense of control. Once we are wed, though, there will be no more asking.”

  Vanessa’s breath caught in her throat, pleased with his suggestion but refusing to admit to it. “We shall see about that, Your Lordship. Is the staff trustworthy to not share the events of my private life with anyone like your mother or that awful Mr. Keyes from the academy?”

  “Each woman who works for me is under contract to maintain confidence. But I do understand your unease and will emphasize the importance of confidentially. Most of them will be serving here for another two or three years and several wish to make their position permanent. They won’t risk their position to gain favor with my foes.”

  “What if they do? What happens?”

  “They will be sent to work under my father. That is a fate that no woman desires. He will require that they finish their service prior to marriage and trap them. We’re home. Stay close to me, so you don’t get wet,” he said, holding a tarp over her head and hurrying her to the front door where they were greeted by the valet. “Would you please see that the horse is dried and curried. I also want a hot bath drawn for my girl, and fresh tea and biscuits brought to her chambers.”

  “The water is already prepared. Your Lordship. We were just waiting for your arrival to fill it. Are the roads washed out? I expected you home much sooner than this.” Edward handed off the wet coats to a maid and held the warm towels to the couple.

  “The storm is horrid, and we took our time. It gave us an opportunity to talk freely as well. Nessa, darling, go upstairs and get undressed. I will meet you in the bathing area. Go on now; I wish to speak with Edward in private.”

  “But—”

  A quick nod of his head urged her to obey.

  Chapter 9

  The following two weeks were a blur of activity for the young woman. Harrison kept his word, not imposing his cock upon her, but teasing her with his fingers as he lay beside her in the big bed at night. He did not take her to pleasure and forbade her to entertain herself. As a result, her body ached in a constant state of need.

  Abiding by the advice issued by Sir Landers and Edward, Vanessa was introduced to Lady Bess’s daughters and encouraged to spend several hours daily while their mother was serving the academy. This presented a challenge even greater than the one requiring the guarding of her tongue. After being raised in an environment where children were nothing more than ‘little adults,' the concept of free play and a lack of personal responsibility was mind boggling. She found herself giggling with the girls during their music lessons and even laughing along with them as she proved that her voice held as much musical ability as a dried oyster. The only thing that prevented her sorrow with leaving them for the day was the anticipation of being with Harrison.

  “How was your morning, little one?” Harrison asked during the mid-day meal.

  Vanessa bounced in her seat, feeling invigorated and youthful. “We painted pictures in the garden, and then I tried to learn embroidery. I pricked my fingers so many times that I think all the blood was drained from my body,” she said, sticking her lower lip out.

  Harrison lifted the injured digits to his lips and kissed them. “You poor thing! Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “It was quite fun. I’ve never done anything like this before. Poppa? May I go back? I think I want to try doing needlework again, and painting was quite enjoyable. They even showed me how to play with their dolls.”

  Harrison nodded. “Yes, but there are things that you will still have to learn. Bess has worked out a schedule for you under her supervision. You have nothing to fear from my mother. Bess will not permit her interference.”

  “But I don’t want to go back to that horrid place. I want to stay here or play with the girls. We were going to build a fort in the garden if it didn’t rain.”

  “Cease your pouting. You will do as you're told without arguing. You don’t want to make Poppa upset now, do you?”

  “No.”

  He laughed. “And yet you are still pouting! I’m afraid that being with Bess’ daughters are developing some unpleasant habits in you. Understand this,” the man said with a smile. “While children aren't disciplined for their unruly behavior, grown women are. I encourage you to explore the child inside of you but don’t push it to the point of making me cross. That will result in discipline. Now, cease your pouting.”

  The words slipped carelessly out of her mouth. “You can’t make me.”

  “No?” His eyebrows raised. “Would you care to retract that comment, young lady? I don’t care for this attitude at all.”

  “I can’t help pouting. It’s part of my nature.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since now.”

  “And how is it working for you?” When she didn’t answer, he shook his head. “I don’t know where this surliness is coming from, Missy, but I don’t like it. I'm serious. Please stop it immediately.”

  “You don’t have to like it. You just learn how to live with it, won’t you?” she said, repeating the words that he had used when she expressed her dislike of writing lines. The expression that painted across Harrison’s face quickly told her that this was not likely the best timing to experiment with boundaries and that her actions were not bravery at all, but foolishness.

  “Pardon me? I think you need to go to your room and stay there for the rest of the day. I won’t have that attitude here, not even in play. I said I was serious, and I mean it.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I have the right to speak my mind, and nothing you can do or say will silence me. I will not be bul
lied by you or anyone else.” It was as though she lost the ability to filter her thoughts as the words poured from her mouth.

  “Oh, really? Well, young lady, I’ve heard just about enough from you. Go to my office.”

  “No! You can’t take away my ability to think so stop acting like a horse’s ass,” Vanessa answered back, ignoring the whispers of the maids as they scurried from the room.

  “This has nothing to do with your ability to think. Quite the contrary, it is the lack of thought that is getting you into trouble. I’m not playing around, Nessa. To my office. Now. Don’t make me repeat myself again or we will deal with this behavior right where we stand.”

  “Fine!” She slammed her napkin on the table top and pushed her chair back roughly, making a loud scraping sound on the polished floor. Marie grabbed her arm as she stomped out of the room.

  “Tread carefully, Miss. His Lordship only gives one warning, and then you will find yourself over his desk. There is nothing that angers him more than disrespect.”

  “I don’t like being told that I can’t express myself.”

  “There is a difference between expressing yourself and acting like a common street brat,” Harrison said from behind her. “I told you to go to my study. Marie? We are not to be disturbed.”

  “Yes, Your Lordship,” the young maid said sadly, quickly disappearing. With his heavy hand on her shoulder, he led her to the back of the manor where the massive, isolated parlor was located. The room was Harrison’s inner sanctum, his private domain where he retreated for quiet relaxation, to read, and conduct business with his associates and contemporaries. It wasn’t much different than his office at the Academy and was filled with dark wooden bookcases, warm floor coverings and ample furnishings decorated in deep shades of rusty browns and burgundy. The same color theme of hand painted paper covered the walls, the high ceiling was of multi-color wood parquet, and the polished floor was adorned with thickly woven Persian carpets. Several massive candelabras with tall, beeswax candlesticks and double wicked brass paraffin lamps and sconces provided light throughout the room, but the primary focus was the enormous fireplace with a hand-painted hunting scene across the hearth.