A Regency Domination Pt. 02

Pleased at her obedience, he balanced himself on one elbow and allowed his hand to caress her folds. His cock was urging for release but he kept going.

"I'm close, little mouse," he panted. "And I want you to come again, this time with me."

She shook her head and tried to stop herself from moaning as he touched her just the way she liked, but it was futile. "It hurts too much," she begged. "Please stop."

"Focus on the sensations, Millie," he said. "Feel how my hard length tears you open, filling you up like never before. Feel how my fingers thrum over your little pearl, which begs for my touch even though it is sore and sensitive."

As he pinched her nub, she came apart in his arms, shaking and repeating his name over and over again, like a prayer.

With a final heave, he emptied himself inside her, but before he could bask in the satisfying afterglow, a scream rent the air.

***

Millicent's heart thudded in her chest and her eyes opened to meet those of her best friend, filled with horror. But it was not Vivian alone who had witnessed her shame; Lord Huntley - George's closest friend - was there too, opening and closing his mouth soundlessly like a fish. There was also a man she did not recognise; with the kindest eyes she had ever seen and a shock of brown hair that almost obscured the throbbing nerve on his head. But the only person she could focus on was her host, Lord Applefield, whose eyes blazed with a barely restrained fury she had never seen before.

Calmly, George hauled her to her feet, fixing her dress and pushing her behind him, as if he could shield her from the others.

For a breath, no one spoke. And then the silence was broken by Vivian. "You -- you depraved pig!" She shouted at her brother. "How bloody dare-"

"Vivian," Lord Applefield's soft but warning tone stopped her short, "please do not distress Millicent any further."

He did not look at her. His gaze was fixed on his son. "I presume you mean to ask for her hand, son. For I cannot see any other reason why you would seduce a young charge under our care. Surely your mother and I raised you to be more honourable."

Her veins filled with ice at his disappointed tone, and she stepped away from George. She was thoroughly and utterly ruined. The vast open space around her started to constrict until it felt too confined for their party of six. She needed to get away from the oppressive stares of everyone upon her. Gasping for breath but failing to inhale, she started to flee, but a wave of dizziness overtook her, and she stumbled.

Suddenly, strong, warm arms were around her. The man with the kind eyes had caught her, gazing at her with only compassion, nothing else.

"Let m-me go," she stammered.

He shook his head and held her tighter. "Not this time."

She recognised his voice. He was the man from last night. The one George had accused her of having lain with.

George must have come to the same realisation, for he roared and charged at the man.

"I say, old chap!" Huntley exclaimed and grabbed on to him to stop him from coming any nearer.

The man who held her did not waver; he simply continued to stroke her back soothingly, like he had done the previous night. "It is all right," he said comfortingly. "It is over. He has no power over you."

She nodded and felt her breathing return to normal. She wanted to bury her face in his chest and pretend she was elsewhere, but she forced herself to meet everyone's eyes head on.

"Millie," George shouted wrathfully, struggling still in Huntley's grip, "get away from that scoundrel. How dare he touch you!"

"How dare you touch her!" Lord Applefield roared, clenching his hand into a fist, and hitting George so hard that he staggered. She realised he had hit his son for the first time in his life.

"She was like a sister to you," Vivian spat.

George laughed incredulously, wiping the blood from his lips. "Sister? She is a bastard girl who seduced me with her wiles. Tell them, Millie. Tell them how you begged me to fuck you with your eyes, all so you could become a Countess. Fine, I shall marry you."

Her throat was clogged, preventing her from speaking, so she simply shook her head and took another step away from him, still clinging to the kind stranger.

Lord Huntley gaped. "I say, Miss St Vincent, the scandal-"

"-dies here," Vivian interjected, throwing him a baleful glance. "Millicent said she does not wish to marry that cretin, and she will not. I presume we may rely upon your honour to not breathe a word of this?"

Wilting, Huntley nodded, but George laughed. "Oh, but you may not rely upon me. You think you are better than me, little mouse?" he snarled. "By the time I am done telling all of London of your deeds, even sailors will spurn you. You will never have a family of your own if you reject me."

"I'll marry her," the dark-haired man said, out of nowhere. "If you will have me, that is," he addressed her directly.

"Who are you?" Lord Huntley asked.

The man flushed around his ears and cleared his throat. "Mr James Rawls. Sir Phillip's best man."

George sneered. "The parson?"

Millicent rounded on the man, trying to scan his face for clues of madness. "Why?" she asked simply, not daring to say the rest. Why me, when I am sullied?

He shrugged. "I had given up hope of finding a companion who was as kind as she was firm in her convictions, and with whom I could converse freely on all topics. But I think I have found her in you." He smiled at her then, almost shyly. "It scarcely needs to be pointed out that you are also lovely to behold."

George's eyes widened, something like fear lacing them. "No," he said quickly. "Not him. I already said I would marry you, Millie. Why would you settle for him?"

Mr Rawls ignored him, staring at her steadily. "It is true that I am not a quality gentleman of the ton. But I am confident I will be able to give you a comfortable life. And more importantly, I will truly cherish and respect you every day we are together. I know he has attempted to break you, Miss St Vincent, but you have the chance to end his hold over you and finally be free. Would you not want that?"

"She does not need to marry at all!" Vivian said hotly, but was quelled again by her father, who smiled at Millicent gently.

"You are a smart young lady, Millicent," he said. "I will spend my life atoning for what my son has done to you, and Vivian's dowry that her fiancé refused will be yours, with no strings attached. But I know you are old enough to recognise that marriage is your only good option here."

He was right. She did not doubt that George would ruin her, just to have his revenge, even if Huntley managed to keep quiet. Her aunt and uncle would disown her. Minerva's chances of making an advantageous match would be destroyed. She would be completely isolated from her friends and her club.

She looked at Mr Rawls and smiled uncertainly. His answering smile was warm, welcoming, and comforting, offering shelter on stormy days and affection on the dreary ones. She did not love him. And she did not understand why he offered for her when he did not love her either. But something told her that everything would work out.

"Millie," George's frayed voice, almost pleading, tore through her.

She squared her shoulders. She knew what she had to do...

***

A/N- This is the part where the story branches off into two possible endings for Millicent. If you think she should stay with George, please read Part 3A. If you would like to see her take a chance on Rawls instead, please read Part 3B instead. If you are not sure, read both and then pick the one you like best as the canon conclusion to the story! Please rate and leave a comment if you can. :-)