Eternally Seduced (82 page)

She shuddered and clung to him harder. “Please, please.” She didn’t know what she was begging him for, the way his tongue was moving against her ear making Mary even more vulnerable to her own desires.

“Say my name,” he urged her.

“
Rathe.
”

She had moaned it out so beautifully he nearly came at just the sound of it. His need for her was impossible and undeniable in its strength but he fought to conquer it, not wanting to let his desires control him because that wasn’t part of the bloody plan. Mary was going to be a part of his life. That was no longer in question. But he was damned if he was going to let Mary
be
his life.

With an effort that nearly cost him, Rathe managed to rein in his desires and he refocused on giving Mary what she wanted
, what she was
silently and unconsciously begging him for.

He pushed her down on the seat, knowing that his long-time driver, Arthur, would never deign to look at them. But even so, he sought to shield her from the other man’s gaze, arranging for her to lie on the side while he l
ay
in front of her, making sure that all the driver would see was his back.

Her eyes were wide as she gazed at him, and they widened even more, her lips parting in obvious surprise as she felt him pulling the high but loose neckline of her dress down until her lace-covered breasts pop
ped
free.

Her underwear was simple but sexy. A shy and conservative girl Mary was, but her choice of lingerie revealed her true passionate nature. It was sexy as hell, knowing that he was likely the only man to be aware of her secret.

And it was a secret he intended to keep to himself for as long as he needed.

Mary squirmed, biting her lip again to prevent herself from crying out with pleasure when she felt his fingers pulling the cups of her bra down. Her breasts spilled out and she could feel herself blushing all over. “They’re too big,” she whispered in shameful apology.

“I know,” he growled as he cupped them again, possessively. “And I’m bloody thankful for it.” He suited actions to words right after, bending down to plump one breast and feed its tip to his mouth. Her rosy nipple tasted as good as it looked, and the way she shuddered and clung to him made it even sweeter. He sucked harder and harder, and soon she was straining against him, pushing her nipple further into his mouth.

Just a few more minutes and they would reach her place, and knowing this
,
he was unable to prolong his foreplay like he wanted to. Rathe needed her to experience the pleasure he could give her now, needed to make sure she understood completely that kind of pleasure was only something she could feel with him.

As he moved to suckle her other breast, he used his other hand to caress its way down her folds, his palm skimming her skin before his fingers pulled her panties away from h
er
skin and tore it
apart
.

She gasped and then she gasped again, her head falling back as he bit her nipple the same time he drove one finger inside her.

“Rathe!”

He responded by sucking
on
her nipple again, moving his finger inside her with strokes chosen to tantalize her and bring Mary closer to her orgasm.

“
Rathe.”
She was sobbing the word out.

She was close, so bloody close, and it was making him feel like he was about to bloody come in his pants as well. He thrust his finger into her faster and harder, and she sobbed out his name again, chanting it over and over.

It was the poem coming true, and when he ground his thumb against her clit the same time he thrust his finger back inside her, she shattered all around him, his name still a sobbed out chant coming from her lips.

Mary couldn’t even open her eyes as she felt Rathe wiping her dry and, after, arranging her clothes before settling her on his lap. His heart beat hard against her chest, but its rhythm to her ears was mysterious, its lyrics unfathomable for now.

She couldn’t believe she had given herself just like that to him. She should even be thankful that he had not cared to take her virginity in the backseat of his car and turn her into a cliché. Because if he had wanted to do so, she would have let him.

She wanted it – him – that much and it was terrifying, like her stepfather’s words about her wanton soul becoming true.

Mary closed her eyes, fingers curling against his shirt.

“What is it, little pearl?” Again, the words came out unbidden but this time he decided to let it be. He didn’t know where the words came from. All he knew that in his eyes, she was
his
little pearl, one to be nurtured and cherished.

Mary shook her head.

He stroked her back. “Tell me.”

Again, it was a command and an invitation that she couldn’t resist. “Why,” she whispered shakily, “are you everywhere?”

The silence that followed was so long and deep Mary was startled when he answered her just as the car slowed down in front
of
the entrance of her dorm.

His voice grim, Rathe answered, “Because right now, I find myself nowhere without you.”

She jerked in his lap at his words, and she looked up at him quickly, her gaze both troubled and questioning as she sought his eyes. “What do you want from me?”

He did not hesitate to
respond
, answering in a quiet hard voice, “I want you to be my mistress.”

A mistress is not a wife. And thank fuck she is not
,
for we would not enjoy our lover’s faithfulness and wickedness in bed if she was so.

A mistress is the source of evil as spoken in the sixth commandment as well as being the result of the ninth.

Mary frowned hard at the research she had so far come up with about mistresses. Half of the Internet seemed to think of it as a glamorous job while the other half considered those guilty of it deserving
the
death penalty.

A knock sounded on the door, followed by the rattling of her doorknob outside. She shook her head, knowing that Camille was going to sleep over again, too drunk to find the keys
to
her room.

She grabbed her crutches and limped her way to the door. As Mary unlocked
it
, a powerful shove thrust the door wide open, and the force of it threw her back, causing her to fall down. She heard the door slam close, and a second later, the telltale clicking sound of the door being locked reached her ears.

Mary looked up.

She started to scream, but it was too late. Bartholomew was on top of her in a second, making her gasp in pain as his full weight crushed her body under his. She tried to struggle and get away, but he had always been fast and underhanded and now, he reacted calmly to her struggles
,
pressing his wet hand tighter against her mouth the same time he moved his leg.

He grinned down at her just before kicking her injured ankle.

She screamed against his hand.

“Shut up, girl, or I’m going to fucking kill you.”

The look in his bloodshot eyes was different. That he was drunk wasn’t new to her, but there was something unusual – something more terrifyingly crazy about him right now that Mary knew her only way to survive this was to keep quiet and figure out a way to outsmart him.

“I can feel you thinking, you slut. You won’t escape me now,” he snarled. “Did you think you’ll get away with your wantonly desires? Did you really think I would let you sin and dirty your body before marriage?” Bartholomew laughed at the confusion in his stepdaughter’s eyes.

“I know you have a man who wants to fuck you, and I know you want him to fuck you, too.” He laughed maniacally. “Rathe Wellesley. That’s his name, right?”

She shook her head frantically.

He slapped her hard, enough for her face to hit the floor. “Your body is not to be violated by your filthy mind and hands.” His eyes glittered with repugnant desire as they roamed her body, Bartholomew licking his lips as he did.

It sickened her, every second she laid helpless under him. Her childhood fears came back like a torrid, lava-hot flood, the memories of the many beatings she had suffered to keep herself and her mom safe suffocating her.

Once she had managed to report him to the authorities, and Bartholomew had used his job as a man of God to turn their heads around and made it seem that as a former prostitute’s daughter, she was only rebelling and making up stories as a cry of attention.

When they had come home that night, he had not beat
en
her. Instead, he had raped Mary’s mother in front of her. Next time she said the wrong thing, Bartholomew had warned her, it would be murder.

“If you scream, I’ll find a way to stop you from attending college. You know I can do it, don’t you?”

She nodded, once, sick to her stomach because she really did know it was true.

He let go of her mouth.

She tried not to let her voice shake as she whispered, “W-why are you here?”

His smile was kind, and that scared her more. “To do you a favor.”

Somehow, she had a feeling she would rather be punished than be favored by her stepfather. “W-what do you mean?”

Bartholomew shoved his fingers into her hair, gripping it tightly. “I know you’re thinking of letting that other man take your virginity.”

“No, I---”

He used her hair to control her head and bang it against the floor, hard enough to knock the breath out of her and make the room spin.

“It’s not going to happen. I’m your beloved stepfather and I will not let you sin like that. If it must come to this, and I fear it has, then I shall sin for you.”

Dazed and in pain, it took her more than a few moments to understand what he was planning.

He would sin for her.

He would take her virginity for her sake.

Bartholomew laughed the moment the realization hit her. And then he began punching her, again and again and again so that she would not have the strength to fight back once his penis made its way to her sinful pussy and clean its taint with his pure come.

****

“Turn the car around, Arthur,” Rathe said not five minutes
after
he had walked Mary to her room, giving the resident head a hundred-dollar bribe to have her look the other wa
y
. It was way past curfew for visitors, but he was not the kind of man to simply leave a girl on her front door and not make sure she had gotten in safely.

Attuned to his master’s moods, having looked after him since he was a babe, Arthur asked, “Is something amiss, Your Grace?” But he was already turning the car around, knowing Rathe was unlikely to change his mind.

It took moments before Rathe answered. “Get Slater on standby.”

Arthur’s face took on a somber cast at the name Rathe gave him. He made the call even as he thought furiously of what could be so terribly wrong that his master needed the urgent aid of the ex-Marine. Perhaps it was the man lurking in the shadows outside the young girl’s dorm? He had thought it strange and had scared the man away by playing with the car’s lights, training it on his location. Perhaps it had worked too well, forcing the man to enter the dorm.

“Your Grace---”

Rathe said flatly, “You saw him too, then?”

Arthur answered in the same tone, “Yes. I did.”

Like all the sons from noble families, Rathe had served in the army and, like all long-standing servants of noble families, Arthur had done the same thing as well. Instincts honed in battle would never be completely dull, and those instincts were why they had both zeroed
in
on the stranger in the dark.

They did not know him, but they did not need to.

That man, whoever he may be, was a threat – and he could be an actual threat to Mary Ashton.

There w
ere
no signs of the stranger outside the dorm, but that only made Rathe tenser. It would have been better if he had still been outside, Rathe thought as he bounded
up
the steps leading to the front door. At least it would have meant he had not made his move – and Rathe would then make sure he could never make a move after that.

The resident head, Lucy, rubbed her eyes sleepily at the sight of him. “You again?”

He gave her another hundred-dollar bill.

She took it and promptly closed her eyes, happily falling back to sleep in the armchair of the dorm’s lobby.

The hallways were quiet and it was the same with Mary’s floor. He tried her door and found it locked. He knocked softly. No one answered, but he did hear a thumping sound. He didn’t wait a moment more, kicking the door open.

A fat, balding man was on top of an unconscious Mary, who was lying on the floor with her face turned away from him. The man was naked from the waist down and he was holding his dick to her mouth, his fingers on her nose.

For the first time in years, Rathe lost control.