Lord Savage (24 page)

He brushed my hand away, shifting just far enough aside that his cock was out of my
reach.

“Not yet,” he said. “I’ll say when, Eve, not you.”

“But I wish it now,” I said with a breathless little pout. “Let me become your perfect
Innocent.”

“Then trust me, Eve,” he said, kissing me hard, “and you will.”

He ran his hands slowly up my sides and over my ribs, his thumbs grazing the undersides
of my breasts as he continued up to stretch my arms over my head. He held me that
way, his body covering mine as we kissed. He let one hand go and I curled it around
his hips, delighting in the flex of his muscles beneath my fingers as he moved over
me.

I felt something silken loop around my wrist and tighten, and by the time I turned
my head, it was too late. A thick cord of black silk circled my wrist, and the more
I struggled to pull free, the tighter the knot became. The other end of the rope was
secured to one of the turnings in the massive bedstead, and no matter how I tugged,
it would not budge.

“What is the meaning of this, Savage?” I demanded, panicking. The cords were nearly
the same color as the dark wood of the bed, but how had I not noticed them before?
“What are you doing to me?”

He still held me trapped beneath his body, and as I struggled, he gently raised my
other wrist over my head. He slipped a second loop of cord around that wrist, too,
and pulled it tight.

“I told you there’d be consequences, Eve,” he said, sitting up to straddle me with
one muscular thigh on either side of my hips. “It’s for your own good, you see. Even
the most cherished of Innocents must endure punishment.”

I fought against the cords, but the harder I tugged, the more the cords tightened
like little nooses and made the silk dig into my skin. “But please, Savage, not like
this!”

“‘Master,’” he said evenly. “I’m your master, Eve. You’ve been willful enough today
without forgetting that as well.”

“But this isn’t—”

“Hush,” he said, placing a single finger across my lips to silence me. I smelled the
honey-sweet scent of my own arousal on his hands, a pointed reminder of what he was
withholding from me now.

“I’ll admit that you were wise to question the manacles,” he continued. “Cold metal
is not appropriate for you. The silk restraints are far more suitable, and the contrast
against your skin is quite charming. Black silk against pale ivory flesh. Or are you
the color of white damask-rose petals? I told you I was a romantic, didn’t I?”

I could still move my head and I did, jerking away from his finger. “Being trussed
like a roasting hen is not romantic, not in the least!”

He frowned down at me, more with disappointment than displeasure, and somehow very,
very English.

“You’re only making it worse for yourself, Eve,” he said. “You need to learn the virtue
of patience and selflessness. Both are most necessary parts of any true pleasure.”

“How?” I practically spat the single word, my initial fear melding into anger.

“Because waiting and denial make the final reward all the sweeter,” he explained.
“Most learn that simple lesson in the schoolroom, but then you are not like them,
are you?”

He was almost lecturing me, shifting his role as my master to one of a tutor—if any
tutor would dare look at a student with such unabashed and blatant desire.

“Don’t lecture me, Savage,” I said sharply. “Untie me instead.”

“I could,” he said, “but then you wouldn’t learn anything, would you? I suspect a
woman like you has always had whatever she wished. Nothing must be beyond your purse.
What is it again that you New Yorkers call yourselves—millionaires?”

“You’re no better, Savage,” I said furiously. I was glad now to see how my nails had
earlier left long red welts down his arm, glad that I’d hurt him. “You’re every bit
as wealthy as I am,
and
you’re an aristocrat whose family has had their way for—for
centuries
! How dare you preach to me?”

“Because I’m your master, Eve,” he said. “And you are my Innocent.”

With an athlete’s easiness he climbed from the bed, releasing my legs. At once I struggled
to push myself upright to sit, twisting and kicking against the bed and the cords
around my wrists.

But my partial freedom was short-lived. Savage pulled two more lengths of the same
silk cord from the drawer that had also held the manacles. Returning to the bed, he
grabbed each of my ankles in turn. Although I fought and tried to kick him, he soon
tied my ankles as he had my wrists, and secured them to the other bedposts.

When he’d carried me earlier, I’d found comfort in his strength, but now when he used
it to subdue me like this, I felt only resentment. I was spread and bound, and though
the cords did not really hurt unless I pulled on them, the position wasn’t comfortable,
and already I felt the strain on my muscles.

But perhaps worst of all was the humiliating indignity of it, of having my legs spread
wide for him to see every intimate detail of my quim. Of course he’d seen it before,
but then I had shared myself willingly, not like—like
this.

“There,” he said, gazing down at me with satisfaction. “That should put you in a suitable
position for a bit of repentance.”

“What could I possibly have to repent?” I asked, incredulous. “What have I done to
merit this treatment from you?”

“I told you, Eve,” he said. “You’ve been impatient, willful, and stubborn. You forget
who I am, and the respect a proper Innocent must show her Protector.”

His robe had slipped open as he’d bound me, and now he undid the sash to lap the edges
over and retie it. His cock was still as hard as when he’d pushed me away earlier,
the shaft sleek and stiff, the head blunt—powerful proof that he wasn’t nearly as
unmoved by the sight of my widespread legs as he wished me to think.

“It doesn’t matter how much you want this, Eve,” he said harshly, catching me looking.
“You don’t deserve it, not now.”

To reinforce the message, he closed his fingers firmly around his cock and began to
slide his hand up and down, his balls tightening visibly. The shaft pressed up toward
his belly, and the head grew purple, glistening at the tip. His face flushed and his
nostrils flared as he worked his hand. His gaze never left mine, intent on watching
his effect upon me.

I blushed, embarrassed not by his performance but by my own shamelessness. The sight
of his erect cock made me imagine it nudging into me, pressing deep and filling my
channel. I could almost feel it there now, and in response my nipples tightened into
sharp points and I felt the now-familiar heat gathering low in my belly. I couldn’t
help writhing uneasily against my bindings, my hips moving in a rhythm of yearning.

Savage glanced down at my notch, doubtless seeing the moisture that surely must be
visible on the dark curling hairs and full pink lips. I couldn’t help that, either,
or stop the little moan of frustration that escaped my mouth.

“Not now,” he said again, and pointedly pushed his cock back inside the robe, tying
the sash into a tight knot. “You know why. You’ve only to remember what just occurred,
how you leaped off this very bed to run away.”

“You chased me!” I exclaimed, twisting against the cords. “And you were the one who
suggested it, saying I shouldn’t judge the pleasures of others until I’d tried them.
Admit it, Savage. You enjoyed that as much as I did!”

He didn’t like that, his face shuttering against me in a way that made my heart sink.

“I don’t have to admit anything, Eve,” he said curtly. “Not to you.”

I let my head drop back and sighed with the very impatience he’d accused me of having.
“Then how long do you intend to keep me like this?”

“That’s for me to decide, Eve,” he said. “But I promise you that by the time I do,
you’ll be thanking me for your education. It’s all part of the Game.”

“The Game,” I said bitterly. “I don’t believe I care for your game any longer,
Master.
”

His jaw was set and clenched, the muscles twitching around his mouth as if he was
deciding whether to speak one last word or keep silent. Silence won. He turned on
his heel and crossed the room, obviously heading for the door.

“Wait, Savage, please!” I cried out, turning my head to watch him. “You can’t mean
to leave me like this!”

He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I can, Eve, and I will. Please use the time
alone for reflection, as an Innocent should.”

“No, Savage, please, no!” I wailed.

My only answer was the click of the door closing after him.

I made a wordless cry of frustration, twisting hard against my bonds. I couldn’t believe
he’d done this to me, and worse, that he now intended to abandon me in this state.

Hot tears welled up in my eyes and slid down my cheek, tears that I couldn’t wipe
away because of my tied hands. Just when I’d thought things were going so well with
Savage, he’d done this to me to prove they weren’t.

God help me, I’d actually begun to believe that he might care more for me than as
simply one more Innocent. I was so woefully ignorant of love that I wasn’t sure I’d
recognize it if it finally came lurching my way in the handsome form of Savage.

There were little signs, of course. He’d treated me with affection, even regard. He’d
defended me from the others. Despite his role as my master, he’d always taken care
that I found my climax before his in a way that was unexpectedly gentlemanly. When
we were alone, he would often let the Game slip aside, and treat me like a woman instead
of an Innocent—a woman that he obviously found fascinating in bed and out of it.

In return, I’d dared to let my feelings for him grow. I hadn’t come here expecting
anything more than an adventure, a dalliance, with him, and he’d given that to me
in spades. I’d never imagined I’d truly feel this way with any man, and the passion
we’d shared was worth ten times the voyage from New York.

It was as if I’d been sleepwalking for the first twenty-five years of my life, going
through my days in a genteel, empty haze. Like a prince in a fairy tale, Savage had
kissed me and brought me to life. He’d made me aware of the joy to be found in my
body, and the shimmering pleasures that had never been part of my lot before. All
I wanted now was more: more pleasure, more adventure, more risk, more delight, and,
of course, much more of Savage’s cock.

All I wanted was … all.

And the longer I thought of it, the more clear it became to me—albeit reluctantly,
and with chagrin—that he’d been right about my being impatient. Horribly, dreadfully
right.

I did expect all the best things in life to be brought to me on a polished silver
charger engraved with my monogram, exactly the same way as my butler delivered my
mail to me each morning at breakfast at home. I never thought of the cost, or the
inconvenience to others. I’d never had to. This was simply how it
was
for me.

Even my loveless marriage had been more about me as a bride than Arthur as my husband.
Once the flurry of attention surrounding our wedding—my trousseau, my new jewels and
house and staff and carriage, our wedding trip—had passed, I’d made my general disappointment
with married life so clear to Arthur that he’d swiftly retreated back to his bachelor
ways, choosing to live at his club among his cronies rather than with me—which had
been exactly what I’d wished, anyway.

When I’d come to London to find passion and excitement, I hadn’t doubted I would find
it. I’d felt the same after spying on Savage with Lady Telford that night in the garden.
There had been no question in my mind that I would somehow arrange to be fucked by
him, too. My introduction to him, the invitation from Lady Carleigh here to Wrenton,
how Savage had bid against Lord Blackledge for me, how Savage had proved to be even
better than my long-imagined dream lover could be—all of that had seemed almost inevitable
to me.

To put the best face upon it, I could claim that it was no more than the fault of
fate, and that fate had always smiled upon me. But this fate was not the same as Savage’s
kismet. My version of fate was couched in money and privilege, while his kismet had
seemed more mystical, more romantic, and less dependent on the dollars in my bank
accounts. For if I was honest with myself, I was exactly as Savage had said. I was
a spoiled heiress from New York who had always gotten what I wanted.

Except, now, for Savage.

My muscles and joints ached from being stretched for so long in the same position,
and I’d tugged so much against the cords that, silken or not, they’d rubbed and chafed
against my skin. I was thirsty, and now that my blood had had time to cool, I was
chilly as well. I lost track of how much time had passed as the sun moved across the
sky and the shadows lengthened as I stared up at the ceiling.

Yet, what I thought of most as I lay there in that elegant bedroom was not when Savage
would come back, but if. I’d given him every reason to stay away, and very little
to come back. He’d said he would when he was ready, but I didn’t entirely believe
him, now. It could well be Barry who finally appeared to untie me; I wouldn’t be surprised
at all if he did.

I was humbled and contrite, and if only Savage would return, I’d do all I could to
prove it to him. Of course I still longed for him, my desire a fever only he could
break; that hadn’t changed. I wasn’t sure if he’d called me willful, stubborn, and
selfish only as part of the Game, or because he really believed it of me. The ironic
part was that now I believed it of myself.

If only he’d come back.…

TEN

“I trust you had an enjoyable time whilst I was gone, Eve?” Savage said when at last
he came sauntering into the bedroom. “Only the deepest of thoughts, appropriate to
the contrition of an Innocent?”

Relief was my first thought, flooding through me with rare joy. He’d come back. He
was smiling. His black mood had been replaced by one that appeared much sunnier. And
surely, now, he’d untie me and ease my aching limbs—or at least he would if I could
keep my new resolutions.