Beauty Meets her Beast Ch. 03

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Mrs. Delvers meddles.
5k words
4.73
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51

Part 3 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 03/01/2015
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A big thank you to everyone who's generously provided me with feedback, even those of you who didn't like it still took the time to comment. You can't be everyone's cup of tea! ;) Rest assured though, even if only one person wants to see this series finished, I would finish and post it for them. Off I go to work on chapter 4...

*****

Lord August made no further moves on me over the next week, save the kiss he now placed on my hand every night. I began to wonder if I had imagined the other encounters, or somehow made them into more than what they really were. We spoke of literature, we rode, we dined twice together every day, and he was always the perfect gentleman. Occasionally I could make him laugh, with a comment or witty observation, and I took an inordinate amount of pride when I did, for he was so austere and serious most of the time. I asked no further questions of the Lady Regina, either from him or Mrs. Delvers. He never suggested we race our horses again, and I made sure not to run from him for any reason, though there was scarcely cause since his behavior was so perfect.

Perhaps it was the loneliness that drove me to him. I realized how much I missed the companionship of my sisters, silly though they were, and my father, or even the villagers. Lord August was the most constant human fixture in my life now, and I felt a certain kinship with him. Despite his unwanted advances earlier in our acquaintance, I could not help but consider him a friend now. It seemed as though it was just he and I against the heavy mantle of solitude that hung round his castle, each the other's only solace from the dark brooding of loneliness. I realized he probably thought very little of me, certainly not with the importance I thought of him with, but I could not help the way I felt. I began to wish for more of his attention, a silly, childish desire on my part. Like an infatuated girl I spent far too much time on my dress and attempting to fix my hair, hoping to draw his attention and please him. Of course, I could never compare with his wife, but perhaps he would notice an improvement from when I had first arrived, at least.

On one such occasion as I was pondering which of the lovely dresses might turn Lord August's head, Mrs. Delvers came into my room. It wasn't terribly uncommon for her to bring me newly hemmed dresses or to repair the ones I wore that suffered minor damage through riding or standard wear. She glanced over my shoulder into the wardrobe and plucked forth the creamy lace garment that she'd brought me a week ago.

"If you're looking to make a good impression, this was always a favorite of his lordship's," she said.

"Oh, it's far too fine for an ordinary dinner, especially on me," I objected.

"Nonsense," said Mrs. Delver, holding the dress out to me. "Where else would you wear it? Perhaps you were right, perhaps it's better her ladyship's clothes aren't wasted. It would be good to see the Master smile at seeing this dress again." Hesitantly I accepted the gown. It was hard to believe that Mrs. Delver was willingly helping me, perhaps even being kind, but if she loved Lord August as she had loved the Lady Regina, maybe she was making an effort on his behalf.

"It is beautiful..." I held the airy lace up to my body, admiring the effect.

"I'll help you get dressed," she said, and she was actually quite helpful, lacing me up and even suggesting I wear my hair parted to the side in a low bun. "Most becoming," she assured me, and I felt a burgeoning hope swell inside me, that she and I might be, if not friends, at least less of enemies. I felt quite elegant as I made my downstairs, if a tiny bit foolish at being so overdressed for dinner. Hopefully Lord August, if he noticed at all, would be impressed, or at least see the humor in the situation. I entered the dining room with my head held high and shoulders back, the better to carry off the dress.

Lord August stood as I entered the room, as was his habit, and his face froze when he saw me. So he'd noticed! Demurely, I gazed at the floor, hoping for a compliment.

"What. Are. You. Wearing." It was not a question, it was a demand. Every word was punctuated with a growl. Shocked, I looked up at him. "What the HELL do you think you are doing." His voice was low and angry, angrier than I'd ever heard him before.

"I - I don't understand," I stuttered. Was the dress so atrocious on me? What had I done? He crossed the room in three giant strides and was in front of me before I could even think.

"This was the dress my wife wore when we danced together the night of our wedding. How dare you! What were you thinking!?"

"Please, my lord, I'm so sorry, I didn't know... please," I sobbed, genuinely scared. He was so angry. How could Mrs. Delvers do this to me? She had to have known.

"Take it off! Now! Take it off!" I turned to flee the room, but apparently that wasn't fast enough for Lord August. "Now!" he demanded again, and his hand reached out, grabbed the straps, and ripped. Rip, rip, rip, he continued, my body jerked left and right as he removed the offending clothing. Within a minute I was standing half naked in the middle of the dining room, the tattered remains of my undergarments hanging loosely from my frame, and the once beautiful dress in bedraggled piles around me. I couldn't help myself, tears welled up in my eyes. With a cry, I ran from the room, not caring if the servants saw me in my indecent state, only desiring to reach my room and hide.

"Belle!" He called after me. "Belle!" I heard his footsteps, and I quickened my pace, as if I could escape the inevitable. What more could he possibly want from me, after he'd ruined what could have been a lovely evening? Tears blinded me and I tripped and fell to the ground. I glanced behind me to see Lord August running up the stairs behind me, and I launched myself upwards into a standing position, foolishly trying to outrun him. "Belle!" His voice was furious, and I put on extra speed, reaching the doors of my room just seconds before him. I slammed them closed behind me and dashed to the far side of the bed, desperate to put something between me and him. He crashed through the doors as if they were nothing, and I screamed.

"I've told you not to run from me," he hissed, crossing the room. I pressed myself against the wall next to the bed, willing myself smaller, as if that could hide me. With one swift movement, his hands grabbed my waist and threw me onto the bed, face down. I tried to squirm away, but he held me down with one hand, while his other tore at my corset laces. In mere moments what was left of it fell away, and he rolled me roughly onto my back. "This is one night you won't be running away," his voice was dark and menacing. He produced the corset string and drew a knife from his boot, slicing it in half. Grabbing my wrists, he lashed one of the strings tightly around it, securing the other end to the bed post. As I struggled to free my hand, he did the same to the other wrist. I tugged in vain with my arms, desperate to break free. I was well and truly trapped, there would be no escaping. Lord August's eyes were locked on my breasts, which jostled left and right with my efforts to escape the bindings. Conscious of his eyes on me, I stilled.

"Please... no." I whispered. I had to get through to him. My pleas fell on deaf ears, as his hands were suddenly on my underwear, tugging it down, and I was left completely naked and helpless on the bed. For a moment he simply took in the spectacle, his eyes roving up and down my unclothed body. I couldn't even find the words to speak to him. I'd never felt so exposed and vulnerable. I made a half-hearted tug with my wrist again, beginning to accept that I was completely at Lord August's mercy. He swung his leg over me, his massive form now seated atop me. Perhaps he'd realize what he was doing. Perhaps he'll stop, I thought. He bent down, and his mouth found my nipple. The sensation shot through me, radiating out in tingles that reached from my nipple to the area between my legs. His rough face rasped against the soft skin of my torso. He continued suckling my nipple, rolling it in his mouth and ever so gently biting it. I inhaled sharply, fighting the urge to arch my back into him.

Surely no decent girl would ever find this pleasing. I should be begging him to stop, yet the only thing coming out of my lips was a shaky sigh as his hand found my most sensitive part and his thumb began to rub small, delicious circles. I'd never felt anything like this before. I bit back a moan. What was wrong with me? What was I doing? His teeth were softly nibbling me again and I tilted my head back, my body moving of its own accord and pressing my breast upward, just as his finger slipped inside me - inside me! I could feel those muscles tightening and squeezing his finger as he slowly slid it out, and then back in again.

"Ohh.." I couldn't hold back. My hips pressed my sex against his hand. Lord August lifted his head and gazed into my eyes without saying a word as he slipped a second finger inside me. The feeling intensified, and I moaned my pleasure. My body was on fire with the sensations, my bound wrists and everything else forgotten as he moved his fingers. I'd never realized how empty I felt without them. To my dismay, he withdrew them and rolled off of me. I wanted to beg him to continue. He moved further down the bed, and kneeled between my legs. What was he doing? He leaned down and suddenly his head was between my legs and then... his tongue was on me. I was nearly up off the bed at the touch. If his thumb and fingers had been pleasurable before, they were nothing compared to this. His tongue lapped broad strokes at my inner folds, and just when I thought I'd grown accustomed to the feeling, he intensified it by slipping his fingers inside me again.

Strange, guttural noises were coming from my throat, and my pelvis seemed to have a life of its own, bucking and jerking against his face. The feelings seemed to be building toward something, but I didn't know what, only that I felt I should die if he stopped now. My legs wrapped themselves around his head and shoulders as if to draw him in further and prevent his escape. He was doing strange things with his tongue, as if he were tracing something onto my intimate area, but it felt amazing. Every swirl of his tongue seemed to take me to new heights, and the feeling kept building, and building till suddenly it crested and pleasure washed over me, like water breaking from a dam. I may have screamed, I know something came from my throat, but I couldn't focus on anything but the waves of intense pleasure. As they slowed, my body twitched and jumped, my legs shaking around Lord August's head as he slowed his ministrations, then stopped. He raised his gaze to meet mine, a queer half smile on his face.

He crawled upward then, resting his pelvis over mine, and as he pressed downward, I could feel the hardness of him through his trousers. My body seemed to know what to do, and my legs fell open wantonly as I pushed back against his rigid length. At that moment I didn't care about anything but the pleasure. I imagined him driving that hardness into me, and desire swept over me. My legs curled around his middle, pulling him yet closer to me.

"Belle..." he groaned, slowly rubbing himself up and down against me.

"My lord..." I didn't know how to put into words what I wanted. He stiffened at my words.

"You don't even know me." He pulled back, and my body cried out over the loss. He slid off the side of the bed. "I shouldn't have put you in such a position. I'm sorry, Belle." he turned to the door, and I ached with unfulfilled needs.

"Wait, please..." I couldn't finish, couldn't say what I wanted. To my relief he turned and came back to the bed. My hips practically lifted off the bed in anticipation, but apparently he thought I'd only meant the bindings, for he produced the small knife from his boot and slashed through the ties that had held me. He paused at the doors to bid me goodnight and then he was gone.

I lay naked on the bed, frustrated, wanting things I didn't understand. Aware of my unclothed body, I climbed under the mussed bed covers. I was confused at the torrent of feelings. Part of me was disgusted with what had just happened. I'd never dreamed of a man doing THAT to anyone, let alone me. At their peak, my romantic fantasies had topped out with intense kissing and then retreating behind closed doors with a husband to perform my wifely duty. Though I'd heard the servant girls giggle and swoon over their bed mates when they thought I wasn't around, I'd never bothered too much about it myself. I was capable of recognizing and appreciating a handsome man, but this longing, this... lust, was new to me. Was I no better than a common peasant after all, willing to couple with abandon with any man who looked my way? I'd understood the basics of it before, the man coming to his wife's bed and "climbing on top and huffing and puffing and generally making you uncomfortable," as my old governess had educated me. She'd told me it was best to lie back and think of the children that would come from the unpleasantness, for children were the best thing. I'd expected an arranged marriage to a suitable man of fortune, who would be pleased to accept my sizable dowry and hopefully treat me well while I produced an heir for him. I'd never dreamed of the gratification waiting behind those closed doors.

The thought that I still had much left to experience made me squirm with excitement and nervousness. I was still a maiden, for we had not been joined in the way a man takes his wife. The aching, emptiness I'd felt when he'd pressed his masculinity on me was enough to make me believe that it could feel just as good as his other activities had. I allowed myself for a moment to imagine Lord August, unclothed atop me, driving deep into me as I ran my hands up his muscular arms. Imagined him whispering my name and tender loving words... The thought drew me from my reverie. He'd drawn back when I'd addressed him by his title. Surely he couldn't expect me to call him by his given name, even in such unusual circumstances? Every ounce of propriety in me rebelled against the idea, even if I had known what his name was. I wondered what his wife had called him in bed. In spite of being alone, I blushed, feeling indecent imagining a couple at their most intimate. Then again, everything that had happened this evening had been indecent.

I laughed a little at myself then. What was I doing anyway, getting caught up in those thoughts? I'd probably fallen far in Lord August's esteem now. To him I must seem a common trollop, to welcome him in my bed that way. No doubt if he saw me now, it would be with derision and disgust. It was expected of men to be somewhat wicked, but a lady of character would never lose her composure or control as I had. Even if he might have looked at me with desire before, my shameless behavior would put him off now. Perhaps he would even send me home,quietly aware that I would never be able to come to a husband's bed with the girlish naivete I'd once had. At what point did a woman become damaged goods? I doubted any husband would be tempted by one compromised as I had been, though my maidenhead was still intact. Then again, I doubted Lord August would be bothered to tell anyone, and I certainly would keep it secret. Conceivably, there was still every chance of me making as fine a match as my station would allow.

It was all too much to think about. I would know soon whether Lord August would send me away, and in the meantime there was no use in fretting. So I told myself, but nevertheless I slept very poorly, waking often and longing for him to return to my bed.

In the morning I lingered long over my dresses. What had my life disintegrated to, that garment choices took so much of my time now? I suppose when there is little else to do, the smallest things take on new meaning. Would I still find as much pleasure in dressing for breakfast or dinner when it was always the same few dresses, turned and then turned again? I doubted it. I would miss the afternoon rides, and the quiet mornings in the rose garden. At home the gardens were productive, but not beautiful, which somehow seemed to make the work easier. It is difficult to regard a squash with much enthusiasm. With one last look in the mirror, I picked up the hem of the sapphire blue dress and made my way downstairs. The neckline was slightly immodest for the time of day, but I supposed at this point in my disgrace in made no difference.

Lord August was there, as expected. I took my usual spot, anticipating at any moment he would stop me and inform me that my services were no longer needed. He offered me nothing but a good morning, and carried on with breakfast as if nothing was amiss. I was too nervous for food, and settled for breaking my fast with a cup of tea. I glanced up at him, but he seemed engrossed in his toast. Should I bring up my departure, or hope against hope that he still wanted me with him? I decided it would be impertinent of me to broach the topic myself, as if I had any say in it. I must have been staring, for he looked up at me, one eyebrow quirked as if to ask what I was looking at. I blushed and looked down at my food, biting into a wedge of toast without tasting it. Lord August rose from his seat.

"I'll see you for our afternoon ride," he said.

"Of course, my lord," I replied. His mouth twitched at the 'my lord' but he said nothing, simply nodded and left the room. I scarcely know how I spent the rest of the morning, so focused was I on the afternoon with Lord August. My hands bore the result of my preoccupation in the form of half a dozen thorn pricks. Browne chided me for my carelessness, and insisted I take the rest of the morning off. I spent the hours in my room, a book in my hand that I couldn't pay attention to. Time dragged by, but eventually I changed and walked to the stables. Lord August was trotting Blitz around the courtyard and demanded I hurry and catch up. Jasper was saddled and ready for me, and I climbed up with minimal help from the page boy, and we were soon apace with his lordship. We rode comfortably to the edge of the forest again, and as before Lord August proposed a race. My heart leapt, recalling how our last race had ended, and I readily agreed.

"What's a race without a wager?" asked Lord August, slyly grinning. He looked devilishly handsome, and I longed to reach up and cup his face in my hands. "Now, let's see, if I win, what will you give me? Something... personal?" My heart skipped a beat. What did he mean? Was he suggesting that I wager my virginity? My face must have shown my concern, for he heaved an exasperated sigh and said, "A kiss, Belle. If I win, you'll give me a kiss." I felt relieved and disappointed and excited all at the same time.

"Agreed," I said. "And if I win?"

"What would you like? Jewels? A fine tiara?" The last part he spit out bitterly. I didn't understand the resentment, for my desires were far less material.

"I - I'd like to write my family, and have a letter delivered, if that's not too much trouble."

"Belle." He looked guilty, and reached out to hold my face. "Despite what you may believe, I am not a monster. You could write your family at any time, you don't need to ask permission or place a bet to do so." His scars furrowed as his face knit into an expression of concern. "Are you very miserable here?"

"No my lord, not at all. Only, I miss them sometimes. If I could write to them, it would help, I think."

"Write them today. I shall see to it they receive it."

"Thank you," I whispered, trying not to cry. A tear escaped my eye anyway.

"Here now, none of that!" He gently wiped his thumb across my face, removing the tear. He leaned in and kissed my cheek, once, twice, three times, tracing the salty track of the tear. "You shall write to your family whenever you like, and any letters they have for you will be delivered as well." I smiled my thanks. "Now. Nothing like a brisk race to lighten the mood. Off you go, Blitz and I will give you the head start." He removed his hand from my face and slapped Jasper on the rump, setting him off at an ungainly gait that nearly jostled me from the saddle. I quickly found my balance again, and leaned over Jasper, urging him onward. I wanted to win, though we'd not yet agreed what my prize would be if I did. I wondered what I should ask for. To be tied to the bed again? I quickly turned my thoughts away from that, trying to focus on the race. The wind stung my cheeks, and Jasper and I flew over the ground, the stables drawing closer. I was dimly aware of the footfalls of Blitz behind us, and I felt a thrill at the thought of Lord August gaining ground. I wanted to win, yes, but I would happily part with a kiss.

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