Enamored: The Submissive Mistress (Special Double-Length Episode) (The Erotic Adventures of Jane in the Jungle) (3 page)

She bristled at his rudeness then looked around for any other sign of life. Surely a house of this size must have a full retinue of maids and grooms, along with this man—whoever he was. Normally the entire staff would come out to greet the master on his return, but there was no hint of any other servants.

They were standing in a high-ceilinged, octagonal room with three other doorways that opened into corridors, plus the foyer through which they’d just walked. Several small windows, positioned high on the walls, allowed in the gloomy London light. A fireplace had been carved out of one wall, and two armchairs were arranged in front of it. Another wall was lined with shelves. The floor, made of smooth, planked wood, was covered by a fine rug in the corner by the chairs.

Appalled by the slender man’s rudeness—not to mention that of Darkdale for not introducing her—Jane said, “And who are you? Are you the butler, then?”

“Ah.” Darkdale turned to her suddenly, his expression glinting with something that made her uneasy. “And now we must begin. Trevor, you are dismissed. For now.”

The elegant man bowed, but not before Jane saw a flash of amusement in his eyes. “Very well then, sir. Regardless…I am certain you will soon have things well in hand.”

“Indeed.” Darkdale watched until Trevor was gone, and then he returned his attention to Jane.

“Is he one of your servants? Are there others?” she asked before he could speak.

“That is none of your concern, darling Jane. Your only purpose is to please me; everything else will be taken care of.”

She swallowed. “Yes, of course. I understand I’m to share your bed.”

“When I require you to do so.”

Jane relaxed a trifle. Perhaps this wouldn’t be quite as difficult as she thought. “Of course. Will I have a maid—to assist me with my bathing and dressing, then? And perhaps you—or someone—could show me to my chamber?”

Darkdale smiled. But it wasn’t a pleasant or charming smile. It was cool and hard. “Your chamber?”

“Where I will sleep when I’m not…sharing your bed.” Even if he put her in the attic, three flights up in the servants’ quarters on a small, lumpy pallet, it would be better than sleeping with him every night. Jane shuddered, imagining what it would be like slumbering beneath the blankets next to his muscular body and very impressive cock.

“When you are not sharing my bed, darling Jane, you will be sleeping there.” He pointed to a shadowy corner of the octagonal chamber.

Jane looked, then turned back to him in confusion, then looked again. “But…”

“Yes, my darling?”

She swallowed hard and took a few steps toward the corner. There was nothing there but a small rectangular cushion, just big enough for a large dog—or a woman—to curl up on. “I’m to sleep there?”

“When you are allowed to sleep, yes, my darling. That is where you are allowed to rest.”

By now, an icy feeling had begun to settle over her. “Why that’s barbaric!” She’d had more comfortable sleeping arrangements in the jungle—even when held captive by the natives.

“Do you want your father’s name cleared?”

Jane drew in a trembling breath. Yes, of course she did. And sleeping on the floor…well, it might not be very gentlemanly of him to shunt her off like a pet, but if that was what she had to do to in order to keep her papa from the hangman’s noose, of course she’d suffer through it. She’d suffer through anything. “You know I do. And in regards to that, Mr. Darkdale, when will you be meeting with the barristers and the court to notify them of your intent to testify?”

“Very soon, my darling. As soon as I’m certain you’ve upheld your end of our arrangement. And we can start with the rules I mentioned in the cab.”

“Yes, of course, Darkdale. Whatever your rules are—”

Thwack!
Jane cut herself off at the sound of a riding crop…being smacked against Darkdale’s hand. Where had that come from?

He smacked it again, his gaze suddenly flat and cold. “Then let me make them known to you, Jane, for the time of talk is over. You are now under my control, and our arrangement has begun. The first rule to which you must adhere is that I am Master in this house. Starting immediately, you shall address me as Master.”

Jane’s eyes widened and her lips parted in shock. “What?”

“What,
Master
,” he said sharply.
Thwack!
“I shall have no tolerance for disobedience, Jane. The second rule is that you shall never speak unless you are bid.”

“I—what?” She stepped back. “This is abs—”

He stepped closer, that crop in hand, and took her chin firmly. “I shall overlook your disobedience this one time, Jane, but that is only because you have not yet been apprised of all the rules. If you dare speak out of turn again—even just now—you shall find yourself at the very unpleasant end of a punishment.” His eyes glittered as if he very much wished to punish her, then he pushed her away and stepped back.

She stumbled and caught herself, still shocked and quite overcome by this madness. What on earth was wrong with Kellan Darkdale? How could he think she’d agree to sleeping on a dog bed, let alone such tyrannical terms?

Do you want your father’s name cleared?

Oh God, yes. Yes, she did.

“Very good, my darling. I see that you are indeed a fast learner. I will add one caveat to that second rule, however, now that I think about it. You may speak…but only to beg. You may beg me for pleasure whenever you like. In fact, my darling Jane, that is my fondest desire…my dearest fantasy. I shall have you begging and sobbing for me, willing to do anything for my touch, to give anything, to experience anything…hanging on my every movement, my every breath… Desperate for my very look. Begging. Hot and ready and desperate…” His voice trailed off, dusky and rough, and his gaze blazed as it scored over her.

No
, Jane thought even as she quivered and burned deep inside, desire hot and liquid and roiling like a volcano.
Never. I’ll never beg him.
He had enough of her, having her here in this house.
I’ll never give him the satisfaction…

Darkdale seemed to have collected himself, and he continued. “The third rule is even more simple than the others, and one I’m certain will come as no surprise to you: you must do as you are told. Without hesitation. Without question. If you understand, you may nod again, Jane darling.”

Still utterly shocked and confused, Jane managed to nod stiffly. Her heart was thudding so hard she was certain it would burst forth from beneath her clothing.

“Excellent. The fourth rule is: you shall be completely unclothed at all times while in this house…which is why you will not be needing the assistance of a maid. Unless we go out.”

Jane couldn’t help but glance at the two entrances to the foyer and wonder if any of the maids were lurking about. She saw no one. Then she realized what he’d said:
Unless we go out.

Did he mean to parade her through Society as his kept woman? Her throat went tight.

When she looked back, Darkdale was watching her.
Thwack!
The crop smacked his palm as his eyes fastened on Jane. They were black and cold, and his lips were parted slightly.

And then it dawned on her, like the rush of a cold draft. He expected her to disrobe, right here. Right in the grand foyer. Now.

“I shall wait no longer,” was all he said.
Thwack!

The threat was clear, and even though he hadn’t struck out at her, Jane realized she had no choice—at least not at the moment, and not if she wanted to remain unpunished.

She bent to unfasten her shoe: all twenty tiny buttons. Without a buttonhook, it would be a long and difficult process, which would gain her some time. A chance to collect her thoughts and decide how to proceed. But she’d barely started when something fell next to her with a soft clatter. A buttonhook.

Jane didn’t even look up; instead, she blanked her mind as she undid each button. At some point during the process, Darkdale took a seat in one of two armchairs by the fire, and she felt his attention focus heavily on her.

She removed her shoes, and then both of the knee-high silk stockings…and paused.

“Jane, darling…you seem much too eager to test my patience. Trust me when I tell you: I am more than eager to punish you.” His voice was barely a breath on these last words, and for the first time, fear stabbed her, deep and low.

Her fingers hardly trembled at all as she began to unbutton the fastening of her blouse—the one Darkdale himself had undone only a short time earlier. It was foolish of her to be modest and shy; after all, not only had he seen her naked while in the hot springs pool in the jungle, but he’d also partaken of her body. Twice now.

She had nothing to hide. She had nothing but her pride…and she had already chosen to give that up for Papa. As Jane allowed her blouse to slide to the floor, she heard a distant chime. Moments later, as she was untying the skirt around her waist, Trevor entered the room.

He carried a tray that held a cut-glass carafe filled with brandy or whiskey, and a matching tumbler. He barely glanced at her as he served the drink to Darkdale, and when Jane paused in her disrobe, she saw Darkdale’s hand flex over the riding crop. He looked up at her.

Heart shooting into her throat, she dropped her skirt, followed by the flimsy crinoline she’d borrowed on the ship. Now for her corset…

“You may take your time here, darling Jane,” said her master. His voice was dusky and low. “For this will be the last time I’ll see your lovely self thus revealed…bit by bit, like a gorgeous package.”

He’d adjusted the chair, and now sat facing her instead of the fire, legs sprawled wide, glass in hand. Jane’s breath hitched and she felt a sharp quiver of desire when she looked at him. She was shocked at her reaction, but he had never appeared so attractive: dark-haired and disheveled, yet frighteningly in control. He’d taken off his coat, tie and waistcoat, unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt to reveal skin unusually tanned—at least compared to other men in London, who sported sickly white flesh.

She drew in a shaky breath, wondering where her mind was going…how it could even begin along this path when this man had manipulated her into such an untenable situation.

But she wasn’t quite able to ban the memory of his hands over her breasts, and the sharp, hard sucking on her nipples…and, of course, the feel of him filling her. The pleasure had been real even if she loathed the man and his “arrangement.”

You will beg me.

No, she would not. He could take what he wished from her, but she would never give him anything.

Jane’s fingers were clumsy as she began to unlace the corset, but she did as she was bid: taking her time, allowing the heavy, boned garment to sag away as it was loosened. Her breasts seemed more full than usual, eager to be freed, spilling over the top of the corset and filling out her chemise. Darkdale’s eyes never left her, even as he brought the glass to his lips and drank of the golden liquid.

When the corset fell to the ground, and Jane was dressed only in her chemise, she hesitated only a moment…then she pulled the thin cotton shift up and over her head and flung it aside.

Darkdale hissed softly, his eyes avid and hot as he looked at her. “Turn around. Slowly.”

Jane did as she was bid, making a small, tight circle with her feet on the bare wooden floor. Her long hair, still loose from when he’d unpinned it in the cab, brushed her skin like little curling fingers and slid over her shoulders and along her arms with every movement. She felt the weight of his eyes travel over her—down over the lower curve of her spine and arse, casting along the sweep of her hips, and then, as she came back full circle, lingering on breasts, and then at the patch of fiery hair that sprang at the juncture of her thighs.

Facing him, Jane stood there, obediently waiting for his next command. Her palms had gone clammy and her belly was fluttering as she tried to imagine what he would require of her next.

“We must now address the fifth and final rule, my darling Jane,” he said. His voice was conversational, but his nonchalance continued to be betrayed by the avidity in his gaze. “It is the most important of them all, and is one that you have, unfortunately, broken twice already today.” His lips stretched in a smile that was sensual in nature, yet restrained.

She remained mute, standing tall and proud, suddenly feeling even more apprehensive than she had when she’d been on display for all of the jungle natives. Perhaps Darkdale was more dangerous than Cold Eyes and his villagers had been, because the English gentleman was “enamored” with her. By his own admission, he’d been waiting for her for years.

My fondest desire…my dearest fantasy…

“But first, let us review: you must address me as Master, you must not speak without permission—except to beg—you must do as you are told without question or hesitation, you must not wear clothing, and last and most important of all, my darling Jane, for us to get on in our arrangement…you are never allowed pleasure without my permission.”

— III—

“That’s correct, my darling Jane.
You mayn’t orgasm, climax, or otherwise find satisfaction—unless it pleases your master.”