Today I give you a taste of Raven’s Silver Silk Ties. It’s hot, saucy, and downright juicy!
Araminta knew what she wanted, and being left on her wedding night was not it. Finding her husband in the notorious house on Silk Street, she hoped her luck had changed. Perhaps this would not be the marriage of convenience she feared. If only she could persuade him that she was indeed the sub he needed.
Meeting his new wife at the one place all deep dark desires could be satisfied, Felton wondered if he had been mistaken? Was this a marriage of mutual passion and ideals? Would she truly obey? There was only one way to find out, test her submission.
He was going to demand when in a scene she called him Sir. All this ‘my lording’ could get confusing.
“Walk on now,” Felton commanded. Ah, now I sound like I am talking to my horse. Luckily, Ara either did not realize or chose not to comment. Instead, she dipped her head in acquiescence before she turned around and walked away. With a flick of another match, Felton lit a second lantern and followed her. He admired her elegant carriage, and the way her arse clenched and relaxed with each step.
“Wait by the door” She stopped walking. He nodded. This was going well. “Open it and go inside to wait for me.”
As she did as he asked and exited the corridor, he wondered what her reaction would be to the room she’d find herself in momentarily. He had decorated it on a whim, more as a tease than for any specific reason. Had he somehow known Ara would be the perfect mate? The colors of the room were a perfect foil for her dark beauty. He quickened his steps, and reached the door in time to hear her gasp.
He entered and used his foot to shut the door. It slammed with a thud, and Ara looked at him, her eyes worried.
Felton leaned against the wall. “No need to look worried, my dear. ‘Tis but a lazy way to secure the entrance. Be assured I will never secure your entrance in such a manner.”
Her eyes widened at his words and she laughed, all apprehension leaving her.
“For that, my lord, I will be ever thankful.”
“I am glad, Be warned though, I will spank your quim, and redden it also,” he continued as if he was discussing the entrée for dinner. In a way, he was. “I allow, to send you into that place where pleasure and pain are so entwined there is no degree of separation, has my cock primed and ready to fuck once my hands have given you that.” Would his frank speak alarm her? Felton was aware he was pushing fast, testing her, and to a degree himself.
“Here, my lord?” Her tone was one of mild interest. Only the rapid beat of the pulse in her neck gave away her arousal. He applauded her cleverness.
“No, not here. This is to whet your appetite.”
“Ah.” Ara walked in the direction of a series of ropes fixed onto the ceiling. “This?”
He walked toward her, and set the ropes swaying with a touch of his hand.
“A whim. Several years ago, I had recourse to visit–” He stopped speaking.
“Another country, where I was introduced to the art of rope binding. This is not a true harness, but it reminds me of the delights of winding ropes and creating an enticing pattern on a soft white skin.”
“Here?” Her tone was hard. He would not wish to cross her when she was riled.
“Never here. You are the first person to have seen this room. No, I have demonstrated in—”
“Ah, Felton, let us please stop fencing. In the house on Silk Street. I see the accounts. You may not charge for your demonstrations, but you do account for them.”
Thank the lord no names were used in the accounts. It would never do for Ara to know who his model had been.
“In that you are correct. Have you seen enough? If so we should retire to somewhere more amenable to what I have in mind.”
“With a proper harness?” she asked. Her eyes shone and she giggled. “This night is turning out to be so much better than I had thought.”
Felton flicked his fingers over her arm. “Wait and see.” He took her arm and led her across the room to yet another door.
“So many doors and passages. Where are we?”
“Dalrey House. The last passage leads directly under the mews from Silk Street.” He ushered her up another flight of stairs, these well lit and into a small chamber, empty except for a large cupboard, and two lacquered screens to each side of it.
“If we go further, there will be no turning back, Ara. I had not thought to do this to you. I had not hoped I could do this to you. I expected a conventional acceptable marriage, and this side of me to be ignored.”
She tilted her head to one side, her interest evident. “And never to be assuaged?”
He shrugged. “Not where it could harm you. Oufft!”
She had clenched her fist and punched him hard in the stomach.
Only a spit-second of awareness gave him time to tighten his muscles and deflect most of the impact. Her gasp of pain smote his conscience. He hoped she had not given herself an injury.
“Not at all, unless you wish me to pursue you with a kitchen knife, my lord. I swear now, if you do anything without me, it will be only the once.”
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