A Shimmer of Silk (9 page)

Would she see the beauty in his art? The flowing curves, the
sharp angles, the faint red lines caressing her pale skin? Oliver was a
perfectionist in his work and there in front of him he saw perfection personified,
albeit it briefly. He traced the outlines gently.

"Oh, My Lord, tis glorious.
What does it mean?"
Deborah turned one way and another, he judged to see his work from all angles.

"It is the basic symbol for my heart is yours, to do
with as you choose."

She burst into tears.

"Deborah? Sweet one, it is fine. It will go. Soon there
will be no marks, nothing." In one swift movement he threw the knife to
the floor where it stuck quivering. “It is over, destroyed. I will do the same
with the others." His heart broke in two as he said the words, but for her
it was but a small price to pay.

He nuzzled her neck and stroked her arms, careful not to touch
the marks on her skin. To his surprise she stamped her foot hard on his. Unshod
as she was it made little impact except to startle him.

"I want the marks. I want them. I want them." It
was hard to distinguish her words through her sobs. "I feel alive, part of
you, yours for ever. It is such sweet torture, sweet teasing, and sweet
pleasure. I would not want to think I will never experience such joy again. And
why I do not know." She stamped her foot again. "You are an imbecile
if you did not know how your touch aroused me." In her agitation she had slipped
into French, and it seemed had not noticed.
 
"Do you not have eyes to see my arousal
coat my legs? Feel my skin
shiver,
my body redden with
your touch? Pah, I know not what to say." She glared at him.

He quelled his bourgeoning cock and compelled his lips not
to twitch. "I suggest you say, ‘I beg your pardon, My Lord.’ Unless you wish
me to spank your arse until you will be hand pressed to sit for a week. As it
is, I will need to fuck your arse to bring us both to climax, for you will not
wish to press on your mark too soon."

"Hmm,” she spun round and faced him. "I do beg
your pardon, my Lord. My sentiments were from the heart, but I should perhaps
have couched them in a more polite direction?"

Minx.
She has obeyed me but in what a manner
. He had to laugh. It seemed his life was
in line for a change for the better. "I think perhaps you should, my love.
Shall we seal our alliance in the tried and tested manner?"

"With a kiss?"

"Nothing so ordinary; with a fuck.
As your back will not bear
weight?” He raised an eyebrow. "Kneel on the bed, face the headboard.
Spread your legs and rest your head on your arms." She gave him a startled
look but did as he asked. He moved behind her and rubbed his cock over her crack,
teasing her hole, and letting his pre cum drip onto her.

"How enticing your arse is, love. Shall I fill you
there? Push into your depths as I finger your cunt? Listen to you pant, and
scream your completion?"

She wriggled her arse at him.

"Is that a yes?"

"If it pleases you, My Lord.
In truth I am eager for all
we may achieve together." That was the answer he wanted. His pre cum
increased and he used the natural lubricant to coat himself. He slipped his
hand between her legs to gather the liquid gathered there and rub it over the
entrance to her anus.

"Ohh, Oliver, 'tis so good, I ache to feel you in
me." In her aroused state her formal address was forgotten. It didn't
matter; she wanted him.
That
was all
that mattered.

"Relax now, it will hurt at first, I will not lie.
Breathe through the pain, yes nice and slowly, love. That's ohh so good."
He crooned into her ear as slowly, he pushed into her depths.
"Now."
He had to thrust to get past the tight ring
of muscles guarding her secrets.

She panted and twisted. "Ah, it hurts. No, no … I can't
…
ohhh
, Oliver…" She relaxed and tensed in a
totally different way as the pain he had inflicted must have changed to
pleasure. "Ah, this is … ten for pleasure, more than that, no pain, just
pleasure so deep tis hard to describe. Come in me, please, please fill me. Let me
feel
your
cum."

Never was a demand so easy to comply with even though she
would need to be chastised later.
 
He
thrust hard, once twice, and pinched her nub as he did so. His cock filled and
shuddered
his climax with a roar as she convulsed around his
hand, with mewls and screams.

"Lord, love, if we mesh like that each time we couple I
will need to increase my stamina. It was something I have never before
experienced." She giggled and his cock slid out of her with more ease than
he could have hoped for. It seemed she was at ease with his cock filling her—or
not.

"Stretch out and rest whist I cleanse myself and then
attend to your needs.

She nodded and he heard her yawn. He'd wager she would be
asleep before he returned.

He would have won the bet; her head was still cradled on her
arms, her breathing deep and even.

As he stood next to her, debating whether to use his warm
damp cloth on her arse or not she stirred and rolled over onto her back. He had
no time to warn her, and her wince shocked him to the core. He had failed in
his duty of care by not stopping her in time.

"Ouch, I forgot. No matter, it is but a small pain to
endure for such pleasure. I only wish it was for ever. Not that I will not relish
each and every time you inscribe our love onto me, but I would wish for
something for all time."

"You mean that? Let me mark you, Deborah? Let me ink it
it onto you where only us know of it? It will be as binding as any wedding
ring."

Her smile lit up her face. "You need to ask? Oh, My Lord,
it would be my pleasure. Except..." She worried her lip with her top
teeth.

"Except
? "
He prompted
her gently.

"Will you wear our mark?"

"But of course, with pride. Felton is almost as good a
body scribe as I. We will ask him.
 
If
you want we can do this formally with him and Ara as witnesses. And Luc if you
so desire?"

She sat up and rested her hands on his arms.

"My Lord, I would like that more than anything in the
world. Luc is all I have of my old life."

He kissed her nose, and when she giggled, placed teasing,
tickling kisses over her cheeks, before taking her mouth with all the passion
inside him.

She reciprocated until they pulled apart panting and
breathless. Deborah rested her head on his shoulder. It felt right to him.

"Happy, love?"

She sighed. "Oh so much, but I have one worry. I have a
locket, it is said to belong to ma mere. Inside,
is
a
lock of hair and a scrap of paper with a faintly written name inscribed there."

"And my lovely romantic, you wish to decipher the name
and trace the owner of the hair? We will do, tomorrow."

"Ah no, I know what it says." Her body tensed
beside him. "Oliver, in the audience tonight … who was Willingham?"

Epilogue

Jeremy Lord Willingham stared at the miniature in his hand. He
passed it from one palm to the other, his drink unheeded on the table beside. The
library was usually his haven but not tonight.

Outside the wind whistled around the corner of the house,
blocking out the sound of the watch on his beat, and the clatter of carriages
over the cobbles.

The fire burned low as he sat searching his mind. The face
seemed familiar. Where had he seen it before? Somewhere recent he was certain.

The door opened.

"What have you there?"

Silently he passed the miniature to his companion.

"Why do you have a picture of
her
?"

The End

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