Page 56 of Their Master

Smith knelt behind her, positioned his cock at the opening to her tight, swollen pussy, and entered her with a firm thrust, chuckling at her earthy groan and the way she pushed back, trying to take him even deeper.

There was something about fucking a lover in such an animalistic position that always felt filthy and forbidden.

It also allowed for deep penetration, which meant more of the pain his Moira craved.

Smith kept his back to the door so the first thing Luke would see when he entered with his tray of shortbread would be Smith’s arse.

Luke, being the good servant he was, would stand and wait until Smith told him otherwise.

He grinned at the thought. He was a sick bastard to find Luke’s reaction so bloody arousing.

Still, he wasn’t acompletebastard; he wouldn’t be tormenting the other man if Luke didn’t have such a raging desire to be humiliated.

Almost as raging as Smith’s desire to humiliate him.

He’d wager a thousand pounds that Luke’s cock had been stiff and leaking when he’d entered the room to find them in a state of erotic dishabille.

Smith knew he’d been neglecting Luke—and he would make amends to the other man soon—but the prospect of impregnating Moira entranced him and he’d rapidly become obsessed with putting a child in her belly.

Moira, he knew, was equally obsessednotto bear his child, and kept a cleansing kit hidden in the corner of one of her armoires to ensure she didn’t fall pregnant.

Rather than anger him, her rebellion intrigued and amused him.

He’d responded to the threat of having his seed washed away by keeping her close after breeding her, not leaving her alone until the following morning most days.

Smith had taken Luke into his confidence on the matter and the other man—after expressing his shock and disapproval that Moira would try to evade her contractual responsibility in such an underhanded manner—had helped to ensure that she had no time to cleanse herself, using the pretext of drawing a bath or grooming her or fussing about in her dressing area to make her covert activities more difficult.

“You can rely on me to be both subtle and diligent, sir,” Luke had assured him.

Smith had come to understand that the other man reallydidlook forward to having a child in the house. He was so enthusiastic that he’d even asked Smith if he might begin preparing the old nursery for use.

Smith was charmed by Luke’s interest and suspected he would make a superlative nanny when the time came.

As for Moira and why she was so determined to cheat him?

Smith didn’t really know what her motivation was. It might be something as simple as not wanting to give birth at all. Or maybe she didn’t think he deserved to have a child. Many people would agree with her if that was the case. Smith’s household was unconventional in the extreme and he had no intention of ever getting married; to some people it would be a sin to give a child to a man like him.

Not to mention his sexual tastes, which most people would view as not only debauched, but worthy of prosecution.

Well, whatever her reasons, Smith couldn’t help admiring her for trying to violate the contract. After all, that was part and parcel of any business agreement: the constant one-upmanship, the urge to dominate and succeed at the expense of one’s opponent.

Moira would never gain the upper hand with Smith, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy her efforts.

∞∞∞

After leaving Knox to deliver the robe and slippers Luke descended to the kitchen, which was surprisingly empty. Mr. Smith allowed a keg for his employees and most evenings the men simply stayed in, rather than going to a pub where the ale would cost money and be inferior.

But they’d all disappeared and only Cook remained, idly flipping through the newspaper, which Mr. Smith always shared with his employees once he’d finished reading them.

Cook perked up at Luke’s entrance. “Yes?"

“He’d like some shortbread, if you have it.”

“Aye! I’ve a batch from this afternoon.” Cook leapt up and hurried to assemble a tray.

Luke opened his mouth to tell him just the shortbread, but then decided the tea might be welcome. Indeed, he would take up a bottle of sherry from the new case the master had just received. He knew Mr. Smith did not care for it, but perhaps Miss Moira would enjoy a glass with her shortbread.

“I’m going to the cellar,” he told Cook.

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