Regency Rogues Omnibus (118 page)

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Authors: Shirl Anders

BOOK: Regency Rogues Omnibus
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An annoyed sound erupted from his throat at his weakness as he denounced himself severely. What did it matter what Arabella thought or saw? He owned her. His intention was to master her completely, sating his lust and haunted conscience on her body. He would have to continue to force her — he was no fool believing otherwise. Yet eventually, she would submit with compliancy, and perhaps find some measure of enjoyment ... if she kept her eyes closed.

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

Stirring from his lethargy, Darth unwound his large frame from the chair and stood with his gaze immediately searching for Arabella. He was surprised to see her lying naked on the floor in front of the door. He had expected to find her hidden once again in his clothing closet or shivering beneath the bed linens. When he crouched next to her, and then lifted her into his arms, she merely mumbled in her sleep and cuddled closer to the warmth coming from his bare chest. It was a hidden moment in time, when Arabella was completely unaware of her reaction to his nearness.

He savored it like a rich sumptuous meal, burying his face into her jasmine scented hair as a tightness of intense longing constricted his chest. For all his morose and depraved thoughts, he had been a simple man, before the attack marring his face. A man who had dreamed of love, a wife, and children someday. Yet that had been so long ago, he had not thought of it in years, until this moment holding Arabella in his arms. She was soft and shapely, so small compared to his girth. She curled around his larger frame like a downy blanket, and where he was hard and unyielding, she was soft and pliable.

When he laid her on the bed, he kept his hands on her, around her small waist, shaping her curving hips. Her flesh was resplendent with creamy delicate textures, and his thumb pads learned the exact outline of her small hip bones, while his fingers pursued the rounded curves of her buttocks. His hands explored her waist, encircling it with his long fingers, which were dark against her apricot tinted flesh. Then he stroked back down her hips, holding them as she murmured soft sounds, unconsciously rolling her hips within his hands.

She was still asleep, yet subtly aware of his slow petting of her smooth downy flesh, and he lifted her hips and shaped them again with his large hands. The hair above her pussy was perfect. It was an interweaving of lush auburn curls, darker than the coloring of her lengthy mane of hair. It lay on the dainty mound of her pubis in a perfect cup shape, just below the delicate kiss of her belly button. He rolled her hips again, stroking down to the front and back of her thighs, then returning up over her rounded hips to circle her waist.

Unconsciously, she was enjoying his caresses as she moved with his hands and the tips of her nipples drew outward into swollen buds. The sight of her fully aroused nipples lifted his already aroused cock further. He had not seen nipple points like Arabella’s before. They became circular and tightly fat when aroused, not spiked and thin. They were amazing, like miniature cherries topping the impressive mounding of her breasts and the areolas in their centers had tiny raised goose bumps in the peachy colored flesh.

Both of her breasts shivered with tiny goose bumps as he traced his thumb over her slender rib cage, and his fingers, holding her from behind followed the shapely curve of her spine. She murmured soft feminine sounds as his thumbs explored the crease of flesh where her breasts blossomed from her chest. He held her spine with his fingers, while his thumbs stroked the bottom curves of her breasts with a side to side motion. The pliancy of her breasts was creamy and soft, very fragile against his thumb pads and his stroking raised a warm flowery scent.

At his intimate caressing, she lifted her chest, raising her young breasts toward his chin as he crouched over her. He caressed her again, tracing his thumbs in a half circle from side to side, and she lifted her breasts upward, further supplicating her nipples before his mouth. If she had been aware, her body would be rigid and anxious, not flowing and supple like it was. He was enthralled, perhaps overcome by his unbidden fondling as he lowered his lips to one tightly swollen cherry-shaped nipple tip.

Arabella’s sudden waking sound of sharp denial startled him with the tender cherry-top of her nipple between his lips, and her fingers digging and pushing at his shoulders. “No,” she gasped, and he imagined that she was shocked to wake in this fashion. He quickly caught her squirming hips into his hands, holding them still, as he left the prize in his mouth behind to raise his head.

“You will
be
still,” he ordered sharply, glaring into her wide golden eyes.

He was irritated at the loss of such a lovely uninhibited moment. The stark contrast between freely given or forcefully taken, glared at him. Arabella clutched the front of his unyielding shoulders with her slender fingers shaking over the tight muscle. Her gaze registered the feel of his fingers holding her naked hips, and the fact that both their gazes could not escape the sight of her aroused nipples between them. The look on her face was helplessly embarrassed as she turned her face to the side, yet she remained still and anxiously waiting beneath him.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded, and she darted a glance at him, then away again, as her eyes remained open. He unlatched a hand from her curving hip and brought it up to cover her eyes, making her puff a startled breath. “You will keep your eyes closed, until I give you permission to open them again. Is that understood?”

“But I cannot,” she cried, turning her head in restless denial beneath his hand covering her eyes. “If you are going to rape me, then you will have to look at me!” she blurted, in a higher pitched voice.

Darth hissed with fury, jerking his hand away from Arabella’s eyes as he lifted his body to stand beside the bed. He used his finger to point at her as he emphasized his next words. “You will stay there and not move.”

“You own me! I am your slave,” she cried. “It will be rape!”

Arabella wondered at the sanity of her mind for defying Darth, even as her body ached so uncontrollably to have him touch her again. Her sex was wet with desire for his invading fingers, her breasts and nipples were taut with yearning. She did not understand it and it frightened her. The torment inside her was free now. It was thriving and burning out of her control, forcing her to gaze at Darth’s rigid male organ. An organ that she craved so fantastically to have inside her. Her body hungered for its unbending power and thickness. Darth’s long male organ enthralled her, tormenting her thighs to separate and expose her sex before its command. Her body shook with the effort that she used not to obey its enslavement as Darth glared down at her with sharp gray eyes.

Darth finally spoke and his words were growled from the base of his throat. “If rape is all that I am allowed, then I will take it,” he hissed. Then he turned his face away and uttered. “But you will not have to see the beast that ravishes you.”

Then suddenly his powerful body coiled and he leaped toward her. She screamed as he landed in a crouch on his hands and knees over her, like a great predatory black panther. His knees imprisoned her legs, and his hands braced on the bed, caged her shoulders as she screamed again and rolled her body within the confines that he held her in, to cower on her belly. Uselessly, her hands clutched her face as though without sight she could make Darth disappear from above her.

Blinded by her hands covering her face as she shook, Arabella heard a ripping sound above her head that jerked her head upward away from her hands. Instantly there was a cloth dropped over her eyes making her gasp and lift her hands to try and remove it. But Darth was stronger and faster as he tied the blindfold in a secure knot at the back of her head. Just as she was reaching to tug it upward, he grabbed her wrist together in one hand stretching her arms straight above her head.

“No!” she cried. “Let me go!” Her thighs struggled between the tight pressure of Darth’s knees and when she raised her hips upward, trying to struggle free, she felt Darth’s sizable male organ along the crease of her bottom. “No,” she cried again, dropping her hips quickly away from its searing presence.

But then, without warning, Darth rolled her onto her back, repositioning his hand around her wrists as he kept her arms stretched over her head. His other hand groped between her thighs, cupping her sex as she screamed again. But this time she screamed not in denial, but in desire, as she raised the mound of her sex upward into the heat of his palm as his middle finger separated the swollen slit of her sex.

“Now, I will rape you with my finger,” Darth’s voice rasped above her.

Arabella whimpered without control at the threat ... or at the dark promise. Darth’s finger pressed and the puffy slit of her sex yielded wetly. She gasped. He touched her deeper. She moaned, tossing her head and twisting her wrists beneath the grasp of his hand. He hissed deep in his chest an answer to the uncontrollable sounds of need she made, then his finger flicked up and down and her knees lifted outward.

“Yes,” he rasped, as she whimpered needy sounds.

Darth’s finger rubbing between the lips of her sex was relentless, tormenting, and exciting. Then he shifted his body and she felt one of his knees pressing between her knees. They separated and he pushed one knee, then the other, until her inner thighs were forced apart. His finger still flicked in the tender quivering flesh of her sex with deeper access now. She moaned, arching her back, struggling, but not struggling at the same moment.


God
, your pussy is beautiful. So smooth and soft. So wet.”

Arabella cried out at the touch of Darth’s fingers spreading the lips of her sex open wider, until cool air rushed over the inner flesh. “And this tender bud is mine, Arabella,” he rasped.

When the roughened tip of Darth’s finger touched her sex bud, Arabella screamed, bending her knees and clamping them along his hips. She never realized that he’d released her wrists as newer sensations caused her to arch her back and cry out at the sharp plucking of her left nipple, while Darth’s finger thrust into the opening of her sex. Still, he used the flat of his thumb to rub her sex bud as his finger withdrew, and then thrust forward again. She panted and moaned senselessly, riding his finger with each thrust that grew harder and came more swiftly. Her body rocked as he used his finger with force on her at the same time he pinched her nipples.

“Is it rape, Arabella?” Darth’s mouth came down over hers, and he thrust his tongue between her panting lips. Deeper and deeper, he pushed his tongue, until it filled her mouth, choking off her scream as she climaxed.

Moments later as Arabella tried to find her even breathing, Darth licked her lips slowly, thoroughly, and she let him. Denying him nothing. The taste of him was warm and strong. His finger was still embedded deep inside her, and his thumb still pressed to the beat of her sex bud. She lay with her arms above her head and her knees still gripping his muscular hips. The sensations without her sight were twofold, surprising because she never knew when or where Darth’s touch would come.

He licked the shell of her ear, wetting it as though he would devour it, then he murmured. “Men and women spend hours or whole days and nights together in bed, little dove.” Then, he barely whispered. “Did you know?”

“No,” she breathed, and the tip of his tongue touched hers, startling her as it left as quickly as it came. His words, their meaning tightened her belly, bringing excitement. Then his tongue licked her jawline down the side of her throat to circle a hollow there.

A moment later he murmured, “I want to rape you again, Arabella.” His finger moved deep inside her and her inner muscles clutched it tight. Her inner sex already so wet, dribbled more and she could feel the heat of it. “I want to rape your soft sweet pussy with my mouth, Arabella. I want to lick the lips, suck on your tender bud, and taste this nectar that wets my fingers.”

“Darth,” she gasped, and in her uncertainty, her hands instinctively reached for the blindfold.

“No,” Darth hissed on a sharp note, and the bed shifted beneath them as his hands grasped her wrists and pressured them above her head again. “The blindfold stays,” he said. “I would allow you nearly anything but this,” he finished.

Arabella sucked in a tight breath at the meaning of Darth’s words, and she heard him curse. She knew that he had not meant to say it. He could not have meant for those words to spill from his lips, but he had ... and now was her chance. She would not let him take them back. Let him wonder at her choice.

“Clothes,” she gasped. “I beg you for some clothes.”

Darth answer was a harsh unintelligible sound of denial, but the sound of his voice was sneering when he said, “Clothes then, Arabella. I am a fool and fools must always pay the price.”

The bed shifted and Arabella knew that Darth had left her side. She should be relieved, but her only thought was that if she had clothes, it would be her first step to getting Nicolas back. She’d had no hope before without clothes, but now...

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

Darth grimaced as he struggled to put on his boots. He was forced to lean against the wall in the hallway outside his bedchamber to accomplish the task. The tussle between foot and boot aggravated his bad humor. Why would Arabella ask for clothes, when she could have easily asked for her virginity ... or freedom? She was as intelligent, as she was beautiful, he concluded. She had not gambled too highly on the strength of his words, or his conviction to them. She asked for something small and reasonable, gambling she would receive it.

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