Chosen to Be His Little Angeline (6 page)

Angeline screamed at the shattering pain and tried to buck off his hips, but his grip was too strong. She flattened her hands against his solid chest desperately trying to push off his shaft.

"Let me go! Let me go!" she pleaded through her tears.

"No. You were warned, angel. Now be still," he growled.

At his fierce words, Angeline immediately fell quiet; the only noise heard in the room at that moment was the crackle of the fire and her occasional sniffle.

"Look at me,
mon amorette
," Blackhurst coaxed as he brushed her downy curls away from her face.

Angeline reluctantly obeyed.

Blackhurst ran a knuckle down her soft cheek. "Tell me what you feel."

"Pain," she sobbed.

"Pain is your sacrifice. I want you to feel beyond the pain," he soothed as his fingers caressed along her shoulder down to the top of her breast. "I want you to learn to reach for the pleasure that can only be found through pain."

"But..." she interrupted.

He pinched her nipple, hard. Angeline yelped.

"That sore feeling between your legs? That throbbing pressure filling you up, making you feel like you will split in two? That is my cock pushed deep inside your body, possessing you. I am now part of you."

Blackhurst slowly lifted her hips and lowered her down on his cock to emphasize the power of his words. Angeline could feel her body stretch and strain to accommodate him.

"This is not mere pain, my little one, but the pleasure of complete possession." He once again punched his hips up, pushing in further than she thought possible.

"Oh, god," Angeline groaned, the strength of his words overpowering her physical awareness of her own body.

"Give in to me, little one. Be mine." He groaned into her ear as he forced her down onto his chest, the position slightly elevating her hips.

Blackhurst grasped her by the back of the neck with his left hand as he clutched her tiny waist with his right. He began his assault, driving his hips upward at a punishing speed as he pistoned his cock into her poor, sore cunny. What began as an aching soreness started to burn as her tender passage scraped and tore from the onslaught of his thick shaft. Angeline's mind splintered, her thoughts fleeing as she focused only on her body, on the throbbing pain, which was when it happened. The pain transformed into a bright glowing need. The harder he thrust the more the need grew, the greater the pressure, the ache building in her belly. When Angeline thought she could not stand another moment of the conflicting responses, the pressure burst, and all the breath left her body. She felt she would have floated away if not for his strong arms holding her down.

Somewhere as if in the distance, she heard a deep roaring sound as she felt this hot rush deep inside her, then Blackhurst, too, went still.

Moments later, Angeline sat up in a daze, straddling him. Looking down, she saw his blood smeared fingers from where she'd bitten him earlier. Her eyes then strayed to the virginal blood smeared between her own thighs. Didn't the Devil seal contracts for your soul in blood? Overcome, her eyes fluttered close. She fainted.

Angeline slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the bright morning sunlight. As she stretched, her aching muscles protested. She blushed at the scandalous reminder of her behavior last night. Angeline knew she should be ashamed of her outrageous behavior. Her grandmama would have called it disgraceful, and probably worse. But try as she might, she could not summon the tiniest bit of regret or guilt. She was finally having an adventure! Lord Blackhurst was dark and demanding but he was also handsome, intense and passionate. Angeline felt a ripple of excitement just remembering her body's reaction to him. She turned over and buried her head into his still warm pillow, inhaling his clove and musk scent.

There was a soft knock on the door before a maid entered carrying a small tray.

"Good morning, miss."

"Good morning," responded Angeline shyly. She was not used to servants, plus she was still lying naked like a wanton woman in bed.

"His lordship asked that you not be disturbed till now, said you needed your rest," the maid said cheerily as she laid the tray down on a table close to the bed and approached Angeline and began fluffing pillows behind her back. Angeline blushed even more hotly as she pulled the covers up high to cover her breasts, mollified at the maid's casual demeanor at the idea of his lordship in her bed.

"Now sit up, please," said the maid as she helped Angeline shimmy up. "We have a nice hot breakfast ordered special for you by his lordship," she said with a smile as she placed the tray across Angeline's lap.

Angeline looked down at the tray and frowned. Over the years as a seamstress, she had heard many stories of the grand parties of the ton. It was one of the reasons she threw caution to the wind and agreed to Lady Herrington's risky scheme. The ladies who requested their gowns let out would often blame it on the sumptuous feasts. Based on these tales, Angeline had been expecting baked apples with sweet cream, griddle cakes, maybe even some broiled kidney pie with a nice hot pot of chocolate and perhaps even some little French pastries to finish. She stared in dismay at the simple bowl of porridge accompanied by a glass of milk. There wasn't even any sugar!

"This looks horrid," Angeline said with a pout. "This is a meal for a child! This is what Lady Shackelton serves to her guests when they break their fast?" she asked.

"Oh, miss," laughed the maid. "Surely not! The guests dined on poached kippers, sausages, eggs, Yorkshire pudding…"

"Enough!" shouted Angeline. "Why have you not brought me that breakfast?"

"His lordship left strict instructions that you were to have a simple meal followed by a bath. He also said you were not allowed to join the other guests in the entertainment planned this morning and you were to stay in your room till he came to fetch you."

"Did he now?" questioned Angeline, angrily setting the tray away. "Prepare my bath, please."

"Aren't you going to eat your breakfast, miss?" asked the maid worriedly.

"No. What was the entertainment planned?"

"Lady Shackelton has a surprise for everyone down by the maze on the south lawn. It is quite risqué even for one of her house parties judging by the costumes left in the ladies' rooms," tittered the maid.

"Costumes?"

The maid walked over to her dressing cabinet and pulled out an unnoticed garment. At first glance, it looked like a linen sheet draped over a hanger.

"What is it?"

"It's called a toga," said the maid with glee. "It is a type of dressing robe ancient Greek women would wear…
with no undergarments
," she whispered with emphasis, clearly scandalized. "All the women from the party are to dress in one of these and appear on the south lawn in one hour."

"Well then we had better hurry!" announced Angeline.

* * * * *

An enraged Lord Blackhurst tore through the manor home, heading for the south lawn. The moment he had returned to Angeline's rooms and found her gone, he'd known where to look for the disobedient girl. Her bottom would pay dearly for her defiance. He had spent the morning reviewing the nanny references his butler had sent by messenger. He had also ordered an entire wardrobe for Angeline. After their evening together, he was absolutely convinced he had found his perfect little one. Now, however, he regretted leaving her alone. Obviously, his little one would require constant supervision and discipline, he thought with a smile.

When he got to the south lawn maze, the rest of the guests had already gathered. He immediately saw Angeline, her petite frame loosely draped in an ivory fabric that highlighted her creamy skin and pink cheeks. In the morning sunlight, her halo of curls looked like burnished gold. The soft folds of the costume showed off every uncorseted curve.

She refused to meet his gaze, but he could tell from her guilt flamed cheeks she was aware of his presence.

"Lord Blackhurst, you made it after all," greeted Lady Shackelton.

"It seems my plans for the morning have changed," he said through clenched teeth, watching as Angeline lowered her head, suddenly showing extreme interest in the flowers at her feet.

"Well, I am sure the ladies are pleased you changed your mind. Now then, gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to remove your shirts, leaving only your riding breeches and boots," instructed Lady Shackelton. While her words were addressed to all the guests, a careful observer would have noticed she paid particular attention to Lord Fairfax as he removed his outer garments.

Angeline turned a shocked gaze first to Lady Shackelton then to the guests, then finally, reluctantly to Blackhurst. It was silly and adventurous to wear an indecent gown among a select few when it was all in fun, but she was not so sure about the men removing their clothing! Blackhurst raised an eyebrow and gave her a look of reproach. Didn't he try to warn her about this house party last night?

"Very good," said Lady Shackelton. "Now, my servants are passing out pairs of horns. Gentlemen, please take a pair and put them on your head. You all look just splendid!" she said, clapping her hands after all the men were in full costume.

Despite her misgivings about what was happening, Angeline could not argue with that statement as it applied to Blackhurst. Every hollow and muscled ridge of his chest and abdomen was on full display. Of their own volition, her eyes strayed to the almost obscene bulge outlined by his buff riding breeches. Combined with the horns and outdoor setting, he looked positively uncivilized.

"Gentlemen, you are the Minotaurs and the ladies are your
virgin
sacrifices," announced a thrilled Lady Shackelton. There was some especial amusement among the guests over the notion the ladies present were anything near virginal. "The ladies will enter the maze first. They will have a few minutes head start. My lords, when you enter the maze, whichever lady you capture - she is your sacrifice – and you may do with her whatever you please!"

With a cry of excitement, the ladies rushed towards the entrance to the maze. Angeline was swept up in the crowd. Desperately looking over her shoulder, her last glimpse was of the dark expression of rage that crossed Blackhurst's face.

As he took a step forward, intent on following Angeline, he felt a cold hand with claw-like fingernails in the center of his sun-warmed chest. He shifted his glare sideways into the expectant face of Lady Prunella.

"
Je veux manger vipères sucrées
, Blackhurst," she said seductively or what passed for seductively, having just informed Blackhurst that she wanted him to eat sugared vipers. He was fairly certain she thought she was offering herself as his virgin sacrifice. At that precise moment, Lord Arthur passed by and Blackhurst grabbed him by his upper arm and thrust him at a surprised Lady Prunella.

"
Mettez vos griffes en lui, de ce que je entends qu'il aime harpies autoritaires
," Blackhurst stated in perfect French. At Lady Prunella's flirtatious laugh, Blackhurst was convinced she did not have the faintest idea he had just called her an overbearing harpy. The woman really did have to stop posturing about as if she knew French. She was fooling no one, thought Blackhurst as he ran into the entrance of the maze.

Angeline ran blindly along the double-sided evergreen hedge. Lady Shackelton had told the women this was not a puzzle maze, but a walking one, meaning the paths meandered in random fashion. Throughout the maze were hidden nooks and open space areas filled with small trees and flowering bushes. Many had large down-filled pillows and blankets on the grass, others fountains, others suggestive statuary and still others Bacchanal feasts of wine, chocolates and pastries.

Angeline had already passed one such area and was shocked to her core at what she saw. A couple was naked on a blanket and the man was forcing his…his member…into her mouth! Even more scandalous, there were several pairs of lord and ladies drinking wine and feeding each other grapes as they watched. Between the scantily clad women and the horns on the men's heads, it was if they truly were beasts in the woods, thought Angeline.

She ran even faster, determined to find a tiny space in the maze to hide from the primal orgies. Part of her wanted Blackhurst to find and rescue her from this folly, but another part of her worried about what punishment she would receive for disobeying his order to stay safe in her room. Finally, she stumbled upon an unoccupied nook. It was narrow, with just two small birch trees on either end. In between were several large, colorful pillows. Angeline stretched out onto the pillows and buried her head as the tears she'd been trying to hold back began to flow.

"Well, well, well." A voice came from above. "Looks like I caught the juiciest peach of all as my prize."

Angeline blinked up against the sun to see a portly gentlemen she did not recognize standing over her.

Steepling his fingers over his pale, hairy stomach, he ogled her prone form. "Take off your toga. I want you naked and on your knees. I shall enjoy your charms first before sharing you with my eager friends."

Angeline lay frozen in fear, unable to even scream in defense.

"I said remove that idiotic drape," snarled the man as he reached down to grab a handful of her soft curly hair. Angeline screamed and gasped at the sharp pain that shot through her scalp.

"Take your hands off her," growled Blackhurst.

It had taken him far too long to find her. He had searched the entire fucking maze, twice. He prayed to all that was holy that he would never have to see the pale, thrusting ass of a fellow ton member again for the rest of his life. Blackhurst had almost passed this nook, thinking once again he had stumbled upon yet another couple playing maiden and Minotaur.

"Come on Blackhurst," whined the portly lord. "You're not playing by the rules. I caught her. I get to keep her," he said, still keeping a painful grip on Angeline's hair.

Blackhurst moved so he was towering over the much shorter lord. He leaned in close and in a deceptively calm voice said, "I will rip you limb from limb and there isn't a man standing who will stop me."

The portly lord turned even paler and instantly dropped Angeline, stepping away.

"My apologies…my lord…I see you saw the lady first," he simpered as he stumbled away.

"Thank god you arrived! I was so scared!" cried Angeline.

"Silence!" roared Blackhurst.

Grabbing her under the chin, he ground out through clenched teeth, "You disobeyed me."

"Yes, but I didn't really know…" she pleaded.

"No. There are no excuses. I told you to stay in your room and you did not. It is that simple, Angeline. Now say it. Say you disobeyed me."

"I disobeyed you," she responded forlornly.

"I disobeyed you,
Papa
," he amended.

She lifted slightly reluctant eyes to him but loath to anger him further, she relented. "I disobeyed you, Papa," she repeated.

"Disrobe."

The single command sent a shiver of anxiety and shock through Angeline. "Please, not here…please just take me to my room," she pleaded.

"Do you dare to continue to disobey me?" Blackhurst asked, his voice tinged with menace.

Tearfully, Angeline shook her head. She slowly removed the sash to the toga and began to undrape the fabric. With no undergarments, she was very quickly sitting nude among the pillows. Angeline curled her knees up in an effort to hide her shame.

She watched in confusion as Blackhurst broke off several birch branches. As he stood before her carefully and slowly plucking the small green leaves off each branch, he said, "Lean back on your elbows and spread your knees wide."

Angeline blushed furiously as she looked around, knowing at any moment one of the party guests could happen upon them. "Please don't make me," she pleaded.

Blackhurst's only response was to raise an eyebrow and wait.

Angeline hesitantly leaned back on her elbows and opened her knees, slightly.

"Wider." His tone harsh and demanding in the quiet serenity of the garden setting.

Angeline sobbed and did as he commanded, opening her knees wider, then wider still. She tilted her head back and stared at the white, fluffy clouds in the bright blue sky and tried to imagine anything else but the humiliation of being exposed outdoors to the regard of this fiercely dominant man.