Page 20 of Wicked Games

His scent.

The overwhelming feel of his cock as it speared into me.

I tried to block it all out… to fight… but it was useless. Soon my body took over, coaxed by the powerful rhythm of his thrusts. Grasping me under my thighs, he forced my legs open wider as he pushed my knees up higher.

His cock actually slipped in deeper than I ever thought possible. My stomach began to cramp as the delicate skin of my cunt began to feel swollen and bruised from the unrelenting pounding. His hipbones pushed into the muscles of my inner thighs with each thrust. All I could hear was his discordant deep rasps in my ear.

“I can’t! Please! It’s too deep!”

“You are a harlot at heart. This is your true madness and I’m your only redemption,” he growled. His deep-timbred voice was as hard and unrelenting as his thrusting cock.

Reaching between our shifting bodies, he pinched my already hypersensitive clit. For the second time that evening, I came, spurred on by his cruel and painful touch.

He pulled his long length free, and I watched in horrified fascination as he reared his strong body over mine. Fisting his cock, he pumped his hand several times before streams of thick white come hit my stomach and breasts.

Immediately I looked about for something to wipe it off, to clean away the sin. As I reached for his linen cravat lying discarded and wrinkled on the carriage floor, he grabbed my wrist.

“No. I want my seed to stay on your skin. This is the last time I’ll come without knowing the pleasure of you swallowing it or taking it deep in your cunt or ass.”

Leaning up on my elbows, ignoring my naked and humiliated state, my voice shook with rage. “You’re crazy if you think I’ll ever let you fuck me again!”

His fingers dug into each of my wrists as he pulled me upright to meet his thunderous expression.

“Don’t you ever use such vulgar language again. Your very existence depends on me. I have the power to make you disappear so deeply into that asylum your fantastical dreams will become your only reality. Do you understand me?”

His dark angry eyes became a blur as tears clouded my vision. I could only weakly nod.

Releasing my wrists, he moved to the other side of the carriage as he righted his trousers.

“Cover yourself. We will be arriving at the estate soon and the servants will no doubt be there to greet us. There will already be talk enough without you appearing like the harlot we both know you are.”

For the reminder of the ride, I sat huddled in a corner of the dark carriage trying to make sense of all that was going on. All I knew was that I had obviously become the obsession of a seriously dangerous man and I had no idea how to save myself.

CHAPTER 7

LIZZIE

The carriage slowed and turned up some sort of circular drive. For some time, I could see nothing through the small, cloudy windows but dark forest. The trees had an ominous feel as they hovered over the driveway, cutting off all view of the stars and moon. Eventually a massive three-story mansion came into view.

Many large estates in England had a rather hodgepodge appearance of mixed architecture with odd blends of medieval turrets and more modern wings.

Not Richard’s home.

It looked to be as rigidly in command as the man himself.

Instead of having separate buildings, towers, or a u-shape that wrapped around a courtyard, it was one large rectangular building. In the center were four imposing Roman-looking columns that stretched up to the top of the second story. It was surrounded by massive oak trees that looked as old as the earth itself.

Despite it being evening, albeit probably late—although I had no way of knowing—the building was mostly dark. No lights shone in the windows. The only signs of life were two gas lamps on either side of a pair of large wooden entrance doors.

Split between the two doors in the center seemed to be a family crest. It looked to be a shield with two crossed broadaxes and a dead dove at the base. On the top was the family name Winterbourne and along the edge was the Latin inscription, Sis Vis Pacem Para Bellum. I had no idea what it said or meant but I did know from some random lesson in school that the Latin word for war was bellum. Judging by the dead dove, I was pretty sure which side Richard’s family fell on the subject.

After getting a stern look from Richard, I hung back till he had opened the door and then turned to me. It was obvious he wanted me to allow him to carry me. I hesitated. He leaned into the carriage’s interior.

“I won’t hesitate to discipline you with my cane right here and now.”

Discipline me? With his cane?

My ass still burned from the spanking I had gotten from just his hand. I didn’t want to risk the agony of his cane let alone having all these people witness my humiliation.

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