A Lady or a Cock Whore? Ch. 08

Eric's efforts to distract Claire were working - somewhat. She wasn't paying enough attention to notice when Arya and Eric snuck off for a few minutes every now and then to make out like horny teenagers, but was nervous enough about the arrival of Eric's friend Roy Easton to be a constant thorn in Eric's side.

"He'll be here at noon, you said?" Claire asked for the fourth time. "Tomorrow?"

Eric nodded in response, jaw tight. She was testing his patience and he was beginning to think that inviting her sister's crush to the estate had been a poorly thought out strategy. In his head, he had imagined Claire being excited for Roy's arrival and completely enthralled during his time there, thus unable to continue her overprotective monitoring of his and Arya's relationship. Eric had even planned out the entire week, including how he would separate the couples, giving each pair an activity or opportunity for some alone time for at least a few hours each day. But he hadn't expected Claire to be so anxious.

I really hope things change when he gets here. I need someone to keep her busy, he thought to himself. I need time to prepare. His blue eyes darkened as he pictured Arya writhing in the confines of his ropes.

Since the trip to the grove the day before, Eric had been fantasizing constantly about his plans for the girl. The idea of marrying her was growing slightly less distasteful every day (or slightly more enticing every day, if he were to be honest about it), though he was still hesitant enough about the idea to want to resist taking her virginity. Instead, he had several different activities planned that were extremely, wonderfully sexual in nature, but not enough to push Arya past her limit. He just needed enough time to enact them.

He met Arya's eye from across the room. She was curled up reading, looking so cozy wrapped in a shawl by the fireplace with her knees tucked up and her little nightcap on. It was pink and lacy and he wondered how she would look wearing matching undergarments and nothing else.

As if she could sense his thoughts, Arya's cheeks flushed and she looked quickly down at the page she was clearly not reading. Her eyes were glazed with distracting thoughts of her own, and when she glanced up again he was still watching her. He winked and Arya couldn't help smiling back, sticking out her tongue.

Eric supposed it was meant to be a childish sort of teasing, but her out-stretched tongue had taken on a whole new meaning for him. His half-hard cock - it seemed to be perpetually at half-mast nowadays - swelled as he remembered the way her tongue had looked and felt when he slapped it with his cock.

"What?" he asked, blinking, realizing that Claire had asked him a question.

"I asked what you have planned for us," his sister repeated.

Eric flushed in embarrassment as his plans for Arya crowded his mind, and he forced the thoughts down.

"Pushy, aren't we?" Eric grumbled. Claire glared at him, but didn't speak back.

Forced to maintain a deferential position to her brother, since he was the male in the family, Claire struggled to give up the control she wanted, nay needed. It was a constant inner battle for her to keep her mouth shut as often as she did, but with Lord Easton coming and her anxiety mounting, she was losing some of her self-control.

"You said you had some ideas. What are they, Eric?"

Eric clasped his hands in front of him, twiddling his thumbs. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied with a smirk, enjoying her frustration.

"Obviously..." she muttered, glowering as she waited for him to answer properly.

He felt a bit guilty and began outlining his plans concisely, knowing that once she had an agenda her nerves would abate somewhat.

"We'll spend the afternoon tomorrow having a picnic and walking the grounds," he began. He sighed, as though feeling regretful, informing her, "I had made a reservation ages back for dinner in town - extremely difficult to get and I don't want to waste the chance - but Roy will have been traveling all morning. So I was hoping that you and he could eat dinner here, instead, give him a chance to get off the road. Would you be alright keeping him company for me while Arya and I go to dinner? It shouldn't take long."

Claire nodded silently, exceedingly pleased but trying not to show it.

"Wonderful. On Saturday I was thinking that a trip to the grove would be in order. Sunday we have church in the morning and can go for a nice ride in the afternoon. And the rest of the week is ours. I don't have any particular agenda other than to enjoy ourselves. Thoughts?"

"That sounds fine," Claire approved.

"Town?" Arya asked.

"Millcote, about an hour's ride east," Eric answered. "There's not much to recommend it other than their food, which is known to be excellent. They are the largest producers of much of the food in this part of the country, and tend to hoard the best of it for themselves."

"Will we ride there?" Arya asked hopefully.

Eric chuckled, though Claire appeared to disapprove of the suggestion. With cause, Eric knew, since a noblewoman riding to town on a horse instead of a carriage was not "normal" behavior. But Arya was not normal, and taking the horses was part of his plan. So he nodded, and Arya beamed.

Claire said nothing, but she did cast a piercing glance his way. He could easily guess that Claire was assuming that he was irrationally giving in to Arya's whim due to some form of affection or desire to please, and he was happy to let her think so; it was certainly better than her guessing his true, more nefarious reasons for conceding to Arya's request.

It was soon time for bed and Eric felt his breath quicken. They walked upstairs, and when the women separated from Eric to enter their wing of the mansion he kissed his sister's cheek as he always did, and took Arya's hand, kissing it respectfully as he bade her goodnight. Her fingers tightened around his as she realized in surprise that he was handing her a note, and she clutched it in her fist as she drew her hand away.

She opened it eagerly when she reached her room, excitement growing. All day today they had done nothing more than spend a few minutes kissing quietly in a hidden alcove, and even that was slightly risky. They had not attempted another nighttime rendezvous, because Eric's solicitor stayed at the estate overnight, having traveled from Veras to meet with his employer. He had stayed in the room next to Eric's, and Eric did not want to risk any chance of him and Arya's passion being overheard. He knew for a fact that the man was a gossip. But the solicitor was gone, now, and Arya was well aware that the rooms on either side of Eric's were empty.

A blossom of heat began to curl in Arya's core; her hopes for another chance to feel his body and be felt by him were tantalizingly close to being answered. She wasn't disappointed. The note read, "Wait an hour after you hear the last of Claire's movements then join me."

The hour of waiting was torture for Arya. The heat did not abate, anticipation making it grow, if anything. It was just after 11 by the time Arya was able to sneak out of her room, stealthing down the hall until she reached Eric's door. She hesitated for a moment. It felt rude not to knock, but knocking would be foolish. She took a breath and opened the door slightly, peeking inside.

Eric was sitting by the fire, reading. He didn't hear the door, for it was well-oiled and there was no sound to give away Arya's entrance. She watched him for a moment before entering, mesmerized by the way the firelight danced across his face. She drank in his profile, tracing the lines of his high browline, deep set eyes, and defined jaw. Hearing a noise somewhere in the house, Arya squeaked and quickly wormed her way through the small gap, closing the door behind her with more force than necessary.

He turned and grinned, instantly laying down the book and opening his arms. Arya walked towards him, gliding on eager toes as she climbed into his lap. Eric held her tight. He kissed her cheek, her jaw, tilting his head as he examined her face and softly drew the nightcap from her head. Her silky chestnut hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and he stroked it, loving how it felt under his hand. She purred like a cat and snuggled closer, enjoying the soothing touch.

He ran his fingers through her locks, his face contemplative, before grasping her hair at the roots and tilting her head so that she was positioned perfectly for his kiss. It was searing, almost desperate, and Arya moaned as she understood that his need was as great as hers. She felt Eric's hardness throb and jerk with her sounds of delight and arousal, and she wriggled her bottom against him, wanting to hear him moan, too.

He happily obliged, pressing his groin up into her as forcefully as he could while groaning softly into her mouth. "You undo me," he whispered hoarsely, opening his eyes as he searched her face, hoping to read a desire equally as strong, equally as needy.

She responded with a forceful kiss, even more passionate and aggressive than his had been, and he began grabbing, groping, and kneading her body everywhere he could easily reach. When that wasn't enough, when he needed to feel more of her, he stood abruptly. She made a noise of surprise but didn't try to stop him as he carried her to the bed. Instead of dropping her on it, however, Eric placed her on her feet.

Arya was confused, her face flushed and her body as hot and needy as it had ever been and she didn't want him to stop. But she had no choice. When she attempted to speak, he shushed her.

"Do not speak again until I tell you to," he ordered. He spoke in that stern, almost angry voice that made Arya's knees weak and she wanted nothing more than to obey. She obediently nodded, making a motion like she was locking her mouth with a key.

"My perfect little honey bee," he praised. He walked around her twice, taking in her form, wanting her to feel the anxiety of anticipation as she waited, unsure what he would do to her.

"Take it off."

He indicated towards the nightgown with a jerk of his head and Arya slowly complied. Her movements were slowed due to a slight reluctance from her self-consciousness, but it made the process all the sweeter for Eric; it was a tease, the way she lifted it over each part of her body with a timidity and meekness that made him ache for her. First her legs, those glorious, long, smooth limbs. Then higher, until her mons was visible with its wispy hair and lips swollen with desire. Her stomach was next, the curves a perfect plumpness as they swept upwards to her breasts. He loved the sight of them. They were perfect in their imperfection, one slightly larger than the other, laying lower on her chest with their teardrop shape, nipples large and puckered.

He forced himself not to touch her, to let her finish her unknowing strip tease while he watched hungrily. She finally raised it over her head and dropped it to the floor. He walked around her a few more times, admiring her from all angles. Standing behind her and looking down, he throbbed as he took in the sight of her ass. He wanted to see her bent down, to open those cheeks and let him lick, finger, and penetrate whichever hole he pleased.

, he reminded himself.

When he reached out to touch her, it was gentle, oh so gentle. Just the tips, running across her skin everywhere he could reach. Arya shivered and gasped, ticklish in places but loving his caresses.

His touch grew more aggressive as Eric drew her towards him with a firm grasp on her bottom, just underneath the round globes where her cheeks met her thighs. It was his favorite part of her, that junction; not least of all because it was the perfect groove for his hands to fit into as he raised her up and her legs wrapped around his waist.

Now he dropped her on the bed, falling with her and catching himself on his hands as he caged her in.

His exploration of her body continued, his fingers delving everywhere. He ignored Arya's protestations in his eagerness to touch all of her, not caring whether she felt embarrassed by his finger stroking up and down the crack of her ass (which she clearly did). If anything, he guessed that her embarrassment only served to arouse her more.

"Wait," she whispered against his mouth between kisses, wriggling beneath him as though wanting to escape.

"Did I say you could speak?" he growled, instantly angry at the very idea of them stopping, even for a moment. She shook her head fearfully, recognizing the beast in his eyes as it rose to take her, to swallow her whole.

"If you can't follow my directives of your own accord, you will follow them by mine," he insisted, looking around for a makeshift gag. A cravat lay on the bedside table, within reach, and he lifted the fabric in front of her face. He slowly and deliberately pushed it into her mouth, holding her wide, almond shaped eyes with his as she whimpered into it.

Her hands fluttered beneath him and he snapped, "Don't even think about removing it."

She shook her head again, vigorously, and he grinned. He leaned back down and kissed behind her ear, making her shiver.

"I love nothing more than to hear you moan, to hear you say my name as you writhe in ecstasy - and you will. But tonight, you will remain gagged until I decide that you deserve the chance to do so."

If Arya could have protested she would have, but not for any reason she would readily admit. She would probably have used the excuse that the gag reminded her of when she had been taken advantage of, and she knew Eric would have respected that, not wanting to re-traumatize her. Yet the truth was that yes, it reminded her of that assault, but instead of making her afraid, the memory served to heighten her arousal and her desire even more. In Eric's clutches she felt just as helpless, just as out of control, and as wanton as a bitch in heat. It was a neediness that made shame spread across her body in a flush of guilty pleasure, and she pressed herself into him desperately.

He could feel the change in her and snarled like an animal as he bit and sucked on her skin, Arya's desire sending his own need rocketing through his body, overwhelming him with its force.

He couldn't have asked for a more perfect reaction.

Understanding that her desire for submission rivaled his own love of dominance, Eric used that knowledge to the best of his ability as he pulled away and demanded, "stand up and face the fire. Hold your arms behind your back."

Arya stood and faced him momentarily, her eyes drawn to his tented pants. She was breathing heavily through the gag, and ran her eyes up and down his body and she prayed that he would be naked soon, too. Her eyes clouded over with lust and Eric slapped her lightly. Her eyes refocused, then practically rolled to the back of her head as she reacted to his abuse. He slapped her again, slightly harder but not hard enough to leave a mark, then grabbed her hips and roughly turned her around to face the fire.

"I expect you to obey me more quickly in the future," he said.

"Mmm," she mumbled through the gag.

"What was that?" he asked, standing behind her and bringing his mouth to her ear as he nibbled on it.

She said nothing, knowing that Eric was enjoying her vulnerability, her inability to speak.

He slapped her ass, much harder than he had hit her face, and she squealed, jumping forward a step.

"What did you say?" he asked again, his voice deeper and more gravelly as he grabbed her bottom and squeezed.

"Mmm," Arya repeated angrily.

"Nothing," he answered for her. "That's what I thought."

She had placed her arms behind her by now, as he had ordered, and he snatched a length of rope which he had stored nearby for this very reason. He held it up in front of her, taunting her, daring her to pull away or protest as he said quietly, "Now you won't be able to speak or move," and began to wrap it around her wrists.

Arya groaned, and he wasn't sure whether it was desire or fear. Both, I would imagine, he thought to himself, pausing for a moment to reach for her pussy and drag his fingers through the very copious wetness that had accumulated there.

Eric held the evidence in front of her face. "I would make you suck it off my fingers, but since your mouth is occupied I suppose I'll have to do it myself."

She heard Eric slurping up her juice, correctly guessing that he was exaggerating the sounds in order to embarrass her. He had seen the ashamed look on her face in the past when his fingers had left her pussy, drenched in her juices, though he couldn't understand it. To him, her arousal was the highest compliment, and absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.

He picked up the limp strands of rope from where they had been dangling from her wrists and finished his work. His time spent by the sea, as well as the practice he had put into learning the rope work an old lover had introduced him to, provided his hands with a surety and confidence in their task. Tying a knot that was intricate, beautiful, and tight, but not too tight, took no more than a minute.

Eric stood back when he was finished, loving how it looked. It was sensual, the way it encased her crossed arms from elbow to elbow, wrapping once around her waist. The knot he tied in the back to finish it off had a loop that he could slip his hand into, and he did that now to effortlessly lead her backwards towards the bed.

Arya was blushing madly, feeling even more like a piece of livestock than ever as he led her by what was essentially a leash, but wetness had begun to drip down her thigh and she couldn't deny that in Eric's hands, at least, she didn't mind being a piece of meat. She wanted to be consumed. She wanted him to devour her.

Eric sat on the edge of the bed and dragged her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist and simply holding her for a moment, breathing heavily in her ear.

"You're gorgeous, Arya."

And she knew he meant it. Her sudden confidence in his desire and affection for her brought her shockingly close to orgasm as she ground herself on his cock, forcing a stifled gasp and a long moan from his lungs as his hands moved to her hips and pushed and pulled in tandem with her movements.

"I can feel your pussy juices leaking through my pants," he hissed in her ear.

"Mmmm," Arya groaned.

"My little cock slut," he continued.

"Mhm mhm mhm!"

"Oh God you feel so fucking good grinding that ass into me." He stilled her, despite her low grunt of protestation. "If we don't move on, I might come in my pants right now and that would ruin all the fun I have planned for you."

Arya stopped resisting instantly.

"Oh yes," he groaned. "My perfect little cock tease, desperate for more."

Always, Arya thought to herself in a haze.

Eric's fantasy of a bound and bent over Arya over was soon made real as he moved her body effortlessly, standing them both up, turning her around, and positioning himself behind her as he pushed her forward, her breasts resting comfortably on the tall mattress and her face pressed into the blanket. He held her by the back of the neck, letting her feel his squeeze tighten just to the point of pain before releasing her.

He slapped her ass again and she flinched. "Open," he commanded, and her legs moved slightly apart.

He slapped her again, a glancing blow that stung and burned, but did no real damage. As much as he loved marking her ass, he had no desire to hit her in a way that would bruise her. Not yet. That he would save for another night when he found himself a good paddle or crop.

Responding to his cue, Arya spread her legs further, until they were about a foot apart.

He slapped her again, this time motivated by the mesmerizing way her ass jiggled, rather than a desire for her to open her legs more than they were already spread. He looked down at her sex, which was wonderfully open to him now that her feet were spaced wider than her shoulders.