Carnal Knowledge Ch. 04

The hard smacks to the cheeks of her arse radiated tingling sensations that resonated between her legs, centering right where his cock plunged inside her like a burning-hot brand of possession.

Rockdale's breathing was harsh and loud in the quiet room. He shoved hard once more against her bottom before pulling his cock quickly out of her body. His semen spurted in hot jets over her naked, throbbing derrière.

He stood without another word, and she remained in position on the floor, panting, unsure whether he intended her to stay put. Her body ached for release. She despaired of her own weakness.

Tears welled in her eyes. If Rockdale had wanted to humiliate her, he had certainly succeeded.

"Get up," he snapped.

She rose to her knees on shaky legs, trying to find the strength to stand in front of him without bursting into tears.

He stalked over to the whisky decanter and drank deep, looking back at her. She swayed unsteadily, and he cursed vilely and came back toward her.

Eliza instinctively shrank back, and he cursed again.

Stooping, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her over to the chair by the fire, sitting down and holding her in his lap despite the stickiness of his seed that covered her bottom.

She began to cry bitterly; the stress of the evening had taken its toll.

He cradled her against his chest and stroked her hair as she sobbed.

"Oh, Eliza," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

She snuffled wetly into his bare chest as he smoothed her hair back from her face. She shuddered. His kindness was almost more unbearable than his anger.

He leaned her head back and wiped the tears from her eyes with his thumb. She closed her eyes tightly as he gently kissed her cheeks, chin, and finally her lips. His lips glided over hers; his tongue licked over the seam of her mouth, and she opened for him.

The earl kissed her slowly at first then turned his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue rubbing and sliding sinuously against her own.

He broke the kiss to nuzzle her cheek with his lips. She opened her eyes to find him staring hard at her, his expression inscrutable. She squirmed in his arms, and his hold tightened.

"I said earlier I would let you go, but I will not."

Eliza tried to get up off his lap. She needed to think. He had muddled her head with his rude assault followed by strangely tender kisses.

His arms were like iron bands about her, unyielding.

"You're mine, do you understand, Eliza? Say that you do, because I will not let you leave me, not yet."

Of course she would stay; he had given her no choice. Part of her wanted to rage at him at him that he could force her to serve him sexually but she would never be truly his. But as they stared at one another, his face so close to hers, she could see something almost...vulnerable in the earl's dark eyes.

Eliza suddenly wondered if perhaps she was not as powerless against him as she had supposed. She lifted her hand and slowly stroked his cheek, feeling the rough, unshaved skin.

His eyes closed, and he leaned into her touch. Rockdale reached up to clasp her hand to his face and kissed her once more.

He drew back and gripped her chin with his other hand. "I want you to say you are mine. Say it, Eliza."

She bit her lip under his intense stare. The words did not want to come from her lips. "I...um...I am...yours, my lord."

He narrowed his eyes, not satisfied. "Tell me who you belong to."

She tried once again to squirm but he held fast. The arrogant man wasn't going to let her budge until she did as he bade.

"I belong to you, my lord." she responded hesitantly, giving in to him.

Something that sounded very much like a growl came from his mouth. "Who gets to fuck you, Eliza? Who is the only man to fuck you?"

She sighed at his crudeness but wondered if he was remembering his unfaithful wife. "You, my lord, you are the only man that can fuck me."

His eyes flared at her answer, and his hand slid to cover her breast. "Hearing you say "fuck" makes me want to roger you all over again."

His expression became a bit rueful, and she shivered as his fingers grazed her nipple. "I was a bit...rough just now," he said huskily.

She nodded, wondered if this was the closest she would come to an apology from him.

He gave her a quick hard kiss. "You may need to accustom yourself. I can't seem to keep my bloody hands or cock off you."

Grasping her waist, he lifted her up to her feet and they stood. She wondered what the earl was about now as he took her elbow and steered her across the room.

Rockdale's bed chamber was easily twice the size of her own, the furnishings decidedly masculine but luxuriously appointed. The room was dominated by a gigantic bed, its massive wood frame richly carved and hung with dark blue velvet bed hangings.

He pulled her over to one corner of the room enclosed by a large screen. She noticed belatedly there was a large bathtub filled with water.

"It won't be warm anymore, I'm afraid."

She frowned as he tested the water. Did he mean for her to attend to him in his bath?

The earl turned back to her and before she could utter a word, he swept her up off her feet and down into the big tub.

Eliza bit back a squeal. "This water is cold!" she spluttered, her skin erupting in goose flesh.

He chuckled without remorse. "Ah well, perhaps you'll learn the error of your ways."

Biting back the retort that wanted to spring from her lips, she shivered in the water and kept her mouth shut. He took a nearby cloth and cake of soap, lathered the wet cloth and began to gently wash her body.

Enveloped in the water and dim light, the scene took on a dream-like and surreal feel. Her shame and confusion faded by degrees into numbness, and she passively allowed him to run the cloth over her, the soft cloth gliding over her skin. Her eyes drifted closed as he lifted her hair and washed her back in long strokes. She tensed momentarily as the cloth traveled over her stomach and between her legs.

She sighed slightly at the thought of her lost modesty as his fingers guided the cloth into her most private regions. She sat, still unresisting, as he began to rinse her body with handfuls of water. He pressed a kiss to her neck as his wet hands glided over her slick breasts and tightly beaded nipples.

"Beautiful," he whispered almost reverently, and she opened her eyes to see his gaze riveted to her chest.

She looked down, trying to understand what he saw.

"They are only breasts."

"They are perfect, just like every inch of your body. Any man's fantasy...my fantasy." He looked up at her face, expression serious.

He stood and assisted her up out of the tub.

Chilled, she shivered and curled her bare toes into the lush pile of the carpet as he took a large length of toweling and began to rub her dry.

"I am not a child," she protested.

"I like taking care of you," he replied, scooping her into his arms once more and deposited her, towel and all, in the large stuffed chair near the fire.

She tucked her feet up and curled up in the chair to watch him pensively. He shucked his breeches and took his own turn in the tub of water, washing quickly.

Eliza pondered on the earl's obvious attraction to her body. And eyeing his muscular bare chest and arms as he washed, she could admit to a certain admiration of his own male physique.

But surely similarly-formed women were readily available to a peer of the realm such as the earl. And surely ones much more beautiful than Eliza herself. She realized her breasts were larger than strictly fashionable. They had been a bane to her since sprouting proudly at age ten.

She had little knowledge of men, but wistfully she considered if there were such a creature as a man who would appreciate her female charms as well as the person she was inside. Her character, her intellect, her interests, her desires...

Rockdale stepped out of the tub and reached for a towel. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as the rivulets of water sluiced down his big body. He turned away from her momentarily, and her gaze was drawn down to his round, perfectly-formed backside.

Unabashedly nude, he returned and lifted her from the chair. She struggled for a moment to hang on to the towel, but he wrest it away and threw it to the floor. Without warning, he tossed her onto the gigantic bed and she bounced, limbs flailing. He smirked down at her.

The earl picked up a tray on a table beside the bed. It was full of sweet and savory pastries, cheese, fruit, a bottle of wine, and one cup. He sat the tray beside her before climbing onto the bed.

"Now," he began, "this shall be a continuation of your lesson." Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he pulled her into his lap.

Eliza pushed her hair back out of her face and wondered if she would ever become accustomed to sitting naked in a gentleman's lap.

Reaching down, he picked up a segment of orange and offered it against her lips.

"You're going to teach me to eat?" She angled her gaze up doubtfully.

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, sweeting. This is part of your lesson in submission. Now, open those lips of your wide for me."

Sighing a little, she opened her mouth, discovering that she was indeed hungry. Still caught up in a strangely passive daze, she allowed him to feed her tidbits as he wished and when he poured the wine, she let him put the cup to her lips. She drank deeply of the heady, ruby liquid, watching his eyes darken when she licked the droplets off her lips.

He took turns feeding the both of them. Every bite tasted delicious, and she ate and drank hungrily until finally she shook her head when he pressed another piece of a sweet cream pastry to her lips.

"I cannot eat another bite," she confessed.

He popped the pastry into his own mouth and leaned to kiss her. She tasted the cream on his lips. She felt him freeze as her tongue darted out to lap at the sweetness on his mouth.

Eliza blinked woozily; the wine she had gulped made her head feel thick as cotton. She only knew his taste was more potent than the wine. His hands slid up to hold her head as he leaned in to feed on her lips, nibbling and sucking, drawing her lower lip into his mouth. Her arms were somehow around his neck, urging him closer. Her naked breasts pressed against his bare chest, and she found herself wanting to rub against him like a cat.

"You will be the death of me, Miss Lockhart. I may endeavor to get you foxed every night." He pressed one last kiss against her lips before grasping her hips and setting her off his lap.

She yawned widely as he left her sitting on the bed. He returned with her clothing, and pulling her to stand, he tugged her nightgown over her head.

"Let's get you back into your own bed, little governess, before you fall asleep," he said, pulling on a black silk banyan and belting it.

She followed Rockdale out of the room and down the darkened hallway toward the area of her bed chamber. Her fervent wish to avoid any observers seemed to be granted, and she hurried for the door once it was in sight. She glanced quickly back at the earl, his face expressionless in the shadows.

He was suddenly close beside her, holding tight to her elbow before she could enter the room.

"Tomorrow," he said softly. "I'm quite looking forward to giving you the second of your lessons."

He jerked her up against him for a hard, open-mouthed kiss before striding away silently.

One hand pressed to her lips, she slipped quickly inside her chamber and collapsed in a boneless heap on the bed. Her mind was muddled and dull from tiredness, tears, and wine.

"I'm so confused," Eliza whispered to her pillow.

The earl was by turns a monster, a seducer, a comforter, and a tormentor. And at certain times, it was almost as if she could almost glimpse the man inside he tried to mask from the world. Not the arrogant lord, but the man.

Exhausted, she crawled beneath the covers. It doesn't matter what he is, she told herself. Endure what you must then you can go home. Oh God, how she longed to return home.

The earl was bound to release her eventually. A shiver slid down her spine as she remembered the intensity of his expression when he had insisted she was his and his alone. Perhaps she really had made a bargain with the devil.

"I'm not yours," she muttered stubbornly. "I'm my own."

She ignored the little voice whispering in the back of her mind that the devil would not let her go until he had claimed not only her body but her soul as well.