A Scandalous Arrangement (34 page)

“I see. Good, well…”

“I would expect you to have no others either. I would insist on that, most particularly.”

“Of course not! I would never—”

He interrupted, as though she had not spoken. “You see, I do not wish you to be my mistress. I want you to be my wife.”

“What? No, I…”

“Marry me, Victoria.”

“But, you do not want to be married, whether to me or anyone else. You said so.”

“Two years ago I said a lot of things that I now realise were to say the least unwise. I have had two years in which to reconsider.”

“For most of those two years you had no recollection of me at all.”

“Fair point, but I have thought of little else but you for the last month. I was sure you would have married by now, or at least reached an understanding with one of those fine young men who you so impressed that evening at the Halifax Assembly Rooms. I expected to have my work cut out to regain my place in your affections. It seems I do not, for which I am eternally thankful, but I see no reason to risk further complications. I love you, and you love me. That is enough. Marry me.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. If you choose to.”

She shook her head, blinking back tears. “No, you don’t understand. It has nothing to do with you. I cannot lose my mill again. I want to be with you, to, to sleep with you, and, and everything else. But I do not want a husband. Not now, not ever. I am independent, a businesswoman. I want you, but I want my life too. My own life.”

Adam homed in on the one thing he sensed must be addressed, resolved to her satisfaction before she would contemplate his proposal. “Why should you lose your mill? I have said, it is yours.”

“A husband would control my property. He could sell my mill right out from under me. I could not live with that risk, not ever again.”

“Ah, I see. I hope you know me better than that. But just to allay your fears, I am sure that Horace will be able to contrive some documentation to ensure that your property remains under your control regardless of your marital status. So, that aside, do you have any other objections to being my wife?”

“I am sure there will be many.”

“Name one. Now.”

“I, I cannot right at this moment. I need to think.”

“What you need right at this moment, Victoria, is to be spanked. I am confident that would help to reaffirm your priorities.” He glanced around the room. “As I recall, sweetheart, it was in this room that I first convinced you to lift your skirts for me.”

“Yes, it was. You terrified me that night. You used a ruler on my bare bottom.”

“I shocked you, I appreciate that. You were not terrified though, nowhere near. Do you have ruler to hand, Victoria?”

“Are you feeling nostalgic, sir?”

“Perhaps. Are you?”

“I think I must be, sir. It can be the only explanation. I believe I may have a ruler in my desk.”

Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire, 1888

Adam opened the library door and scanned the room.

Ah, yes, just as he had expected. And hoped.

Victoria sat at her desk, in a pose he found familiar. A pile of papers was stacked by her left hand, her heavy glass inkwell at her right. She sat with her back to him, and was intent on the column of figures spread before her as she entered the latest ones into her ledger. The sound of her pen scratching at the paper was the only sound to be heard in the room. She was engrossed in her work, oblivious to his presence.

He knew a sudden strong sense of déjà vu.

Adam might have enjoyed approaching Victoria unseen, unheard, and surprising her with a swift kiss to the back of her gorgeous neck if he could achieve that. At the very least he certainly fancied his chances of reaching her before she had any inkling he was there and grabbing a fistful of her hair to tilt her head back and kiss her thoroughly. Victoria appreciated plenty of affection before a spanking, he had learnt, and even more afterwards. He was not in the habit of disappointing his wife.

Neither was he in the habit of endangering her, so he refrained from such fun and games. She couldn’t do with shocks, not in her condition.

He leaned over to view her from the side, and admired the faint swell of her belly. Her pregnancy was hardly noticeable, except to his trained eye of course, but in just a couple more weeks everyone would know. Not that any of their family or friends would be in the least surprised—he and Victoria were producing offspring sufficient to manage several mills in future years, and a shipping line four times the size of the one he currently owned. Their comfort in old age was at least assured, he reflected. This one, due in a little less than six months’ time, would make four, a second brother or sister for Harry and Julia, and for baby Louisa, who he had just deposited with her nurse. He loved playing with his children, but when it came to their more basic biological needs, he appreciated the presence of staff to assist.

They would be requiring an additional nursemaid, he thought, if he and Victoria were to continue to procreate at this rate. Wynne House would soon be filled to overflowing. No matter, he would build an extension.

Time to alert her to his presence. He cleared his throat.

Victoria started, turned to face him. Her smile was utterly bewitching, but then, he always thought that.

“Ah, there you are. I was about to come find you.”

“I do not believe you were about to do any such thing, my sweet. You were far too involved in your work to give a thought to your domestic responsibilities.”

“I have neglected you. I am sorry.”

“I will survive, I expect. But I believe I have made my views clear about this habit of yours of working all evening. You have been at the mill most of the day already.”

“I know, but…”

“Mr. Timmins is quite capable of running things. And I have no doubt these could wait.” He gestured at the chaotic piles of paperwork scattered across the polished table top.

“Are you angry?”

“Do I look angry?”

“No, but…”

“You know I am going to spank you, then fuck you until you forget how to so much as add two and two together. So you should not feel obliged to continue this charade of yours; you shall have exactly what you want.”

She leaned back in her chair, her smile serene. What was it about pregnant women, he thought, that created that look?

“Thank you, sir. Would you like me to accompany you to our bedroom?” She made to rise from her chair.

“No, I believe we can manage very well in here.” He turned to close the door behind him, then locked it. He pocketed the key. “Before we get to that though, I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“For naming Julia your heir. It will mean a lot to her, to inherit Wynne’s Weaving Mill eventually.”

“Yes, I know that. And I believe we will make an excellent mill owner of her.”

“She takes after you, then. I could not have found a better role model for her.”

“She is turning out so well, don’t you think? And now that she is attending the Leeds Girls High School…”

“Yes, Horace is much relieved, though her complaints at being obliged to learn Latin are starting to grate somewhat. Am I to gather you donated a generous sum to help set up that establishment?”

“Not that generous, but yes, I did make a contribution. It enables me to secure places there for Wynne’s girls.”

“You will send your factory girls to one of the finest private schools in the county?”

“Yes, certainly the ones who show promise. It is important to offer education to girls. They should be at least as well educated as boys in my view. Violet agrees with me.”

“Sweetheart, I will not argue that point with either of you. Am I to assume you aspire to a university place for our daughter then?”

“I hope so, if she wants that. Oxford now has a college for women…”

He leaned on the desk, looking down at her. “You would have liked that for yourself, wouldn’t you? To go to university?”

“Yes, but…”

“You still could, you do know that, don’t you?”

“It is too late.”

“No, not if that’s what you want. We would manage. I am here, and your mother, Violet, Georgina. We can manage the children between us if you want to study. And Mr. Timmins could run the mill with his eyes closed. Not that he would, of course.”

She smiled at him, but shook her head. “It is enough for me to know that I could do it if I want to. I don’t want to though, not any longer. The time for that has passed and I am content. Truly I am. I have achieved what I set out to do. And so much more besides.” She caressed the almost indiscernible bulge under her dress.

“So will Julia, and much of that is your doing. So, my love, are you ready for me to demonstrate my appreciation?”

“Always, sir. Shall I undress?”

“Oh, yes, I believe that would be best.”

He continued to lean against her desk, one hip hitched on the edge of the table as he watched her move to the centre of the room and start to unbutton her blouse. The garment was closely fitted, Victoria’s preferred style, and framed her perfect curves in a way he found quite irresistible. Would he ever tire of this display? No, he concluded, not in this lifetime.

His cock swelled and hardened as she disrobed in front of him. Every sinuous movement was performed for his pleasure. Every teasing look, every inch bared for his view designed to tantalise and to tease. He would enjoy her display to the full, then he would lay her across his lap and apply his hand to her delectable arse. Not too much, of course, just sufficient to make her wet and needy, enough that she would climax for him as soon as he caressed her quim. Then he thought he might spread her across her desk to receive a few well-aimed strokes with his belt. Nothing too demanding, she was pregnant after all, but enough to satisfy her craving for a decent whipping.

Then and only then would he fuck her.

Naked, she stood before him for several seconds, then lowered herself to her knees. In a few more weeks she would struggle to do that. He made a mental note to instruct her to refrain from kneeling for the duration of her pregnancy. She lowered her gaze, but not before he caught a glimpse of her contented grin. Her smile was infectious, despite his best attempts to be stern.

He sat in the seat she had vacated and patted his lap. “Come, Victoria. Make yourself comfortable.”

She did not move. He patted his thigh again. “Is there a problem?”
Did she need his help to rise? Already?

“Not a problem, sir. But, may I pleasure myself first?”

His cock leapt to attention, throbbing within the confines of his trousers.
Christ, she was adorable.

He tried to keep his tone even, and made a reasonable job of it, he believed. In the circumstances. “You may, Victoria.” He turned his chair to face the desk, placing it about two feet from the edge. “Lie on the table, your bottom toward me. You may place your feet on the seat of my chair, if you like.”

“Thank you, sir.” She moved past him to first shove away the papers still scattered there, then to position herself as he had instructed.

Her thighs were spread wide, her shaved pussy already glistening. Moisture was just visible on her inner thighs.

“Sir, I wonder…”

“What is it, Victoria?”

“Would you insert your finger into my arse, sir?”

“Just one?”

“Two would be nicer. Three is a little intense.”

“Three it is then. I did not bring any oil in here with me.”

“I believe I may be able to provide sufficient lubricant, sir.” Was she blushing? He believed so.

“I am sure you will, my sweet slut. May I?”

“Yes, sir.” She arched her back, her arms flung behind her head as she spread her knees wider.

Adam plunged two fingers into her moist, hot pussy and delivered several sharp thrusts. Victoria moaned and lifted her hips. Her inner walls were clenching, gripping him tight.

He pulled out his fingers to inspect the moisture coating them.

“I believe you will have to do better than that, my darling. Shall we try again?”

“Yes, sir. It may take a little while.”

He chuckled to himself as he slid his fingers into her again, this time twisting them in order to reach her most sensitive place. She let out a sharp gasp, her pussy spasming as he finger-fucked her. She was thoroughly wet now, and a second inspection suggested he had collected plenty of lubrication. No harm in making sure though.

“Bring your knees to your chest and hold them there. I want you to lift up your bottom for me.”

Victoria tucked her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Adam took his time in burying three fingers in her hot channel, slowly dragging them in and out as she squirmed and writhed on the desk. He delivered a sharp slap to her buttock with his free hand.

“Be still.”

“Yes, sir, I am sorry. It just feels so…”

“Yes, Victoria?”

“It feels good, sir. Very, very good.”

“My fingers are wet enough now, I believe. Thank you for being so obliging. So, one first, then the rest. Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice was little more than a ragged whisper. Adam suspected this would not take long, though he was feeling generously disposed toward his wife so there would be repeat performances. He intended her to climax often this evening.

He pressed against her rear entrance, and the tight ring of muscle capitulated immediately He slid his middle finger inside her arse, right past the second knuckle.

“Am I hurting you?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. It feels wonderful.”

“Mrs. Luke, what a wanton little hussy you are. Who would have thought it?”

“You would, sir. Could you…?”

“Ah, so impatient.” Still, he wasted no time in adding a second finger, then a third. Now she was stretched tight around him, her features contorted into grimace somewhere between pain and ecstatic pleasure. He knew it would be such a simple manoeuvre now to angle his thumb to connect with her clitoris. She would be powerless to control her response. But no, he loved to watch her pleasure herself. “Victoria? You may proceed.”