Enamored: The Submissive Mistress (Special Double-Length Episode) (The Erotic Adventures of Jane in the Jungle) (2 page)

However, he made no such demands. Instead, he merely treated her with the courtesy of a gentleman—finding some appropriate clothing on the ship, squiring her around the deck on his arm several times a day, insisting they dine privately with the captain, arranging for her to have a tub in which to bathe every few days, and even playing chess and gin rummy with her when she became bored.

If Jane hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was courting her—a preposterous notion when one considered his demands.

Darkdale did insist they share a cabin, however. And when she was not with him, he kept the door locked from the outside—and the key on his person.

“Speak to no one, and do not attempt to contact anyone or to leave this cabin. If you do,” he’d said, his eyes hard and cold. “I’ll have you stripped bare and tied over a barrel for the crew. They would be happy to partake of your luscious body. And I would stand by and watch.”

Jane was sufficiently cowed by his threat and had no intention of testing him. Aside from that, she saw no reason to leave the cabin without an escort anyway—the rough-looking sailors and their hot eyes were off-putting enough on their own.

And so she spent three weeks in a state of unease and apprehension, and yet relative luxury—knowing that at any moment Darkdale could come into their cabin and order her into his bed. The very thought made her both apprehensive and shamefully titillated, for while he was no Zaren in looks or strength—and definitely not in character—Jane had to admit Kellan Darkdale was a very handsome man. In other circumstances, she might even have been attracted to him.

But not now.

Not ever.

“I have spent the last three weeks imagining you sprawled beneath me on a bed…your glorious hair strewn about the pillows, your body bare and spread for me, your red lips open and begging,” Darkdale said, watching her from across the carriage.

“I’ll never beg—”

“But I have no reason to wait for such a pose, such a perfect position.” He moved like a cat, swift and sleek, and was next to her, grasping her by the shoulders before she could react. “No, my darling Jane. There is no longer a reason to wait, to subdue my desire. Our arrangement has begun.”

She held herself rigid as he covered her mouth with his, but his lips were surprisingly soft and warm. Full and sensual. She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as he kissed her with possessiveness and skill. Her lips parted under his demanding ones, and when his tongue thrust deep into her mouth, she found herself matching it with her own. They tangled and tasted, their tongues dancing and twining until she realized what she was doing and wrenched her face away.

“No,” she murmured, trying to even out her breathing.

Darkdale laughed softly and took her face in his hands. “Is that how you wish to play it, my darling? Nevertheless, you shall change your tune. I promise it.”

His solid body pressed her into a corner of the bench seat, but he didn’t attempt to kiss her again. Jane felt the firm muscles of his arms and thighs, as well as the solid ridge of his cock bumping her hip. His hands moved in lover-like fashion to pull her hair loose, combing through her long curls and over her shoulders as he kissed her, sampling her chin and jaw and then burying his face in the sweet spot beneath her ear. He nibbled on her lobe, gently biting her neck and sliding his strong tongue along her throat, sucking and tasting as he pressed himself against her.

Jane, whose body had been ignored and become dormant for weeks on the ship, couldn’t dismiss the erotic sensations. She’d been aroused and pleasured multiple times on a daily basis at the hands of Cold Eyes and his people—most often insistently and against her will—and so she was unable to keep from responding to this sensual, almost tender, onslaught. It had been so long…

Darkdale’s breathing was shallow and rough as he eased back to fumble with the buttons down the high collar of her shirtwaist. Then he wasted no time unlacing the corset beneath and releasing her breasts from its confines, tearing away the last bit of covering in the form of Jane’s original chemise.

“Beautiful. So ripe and delicious you are, darling Jane.” His voice was hoarse and his cock pressed even more insistently into her hip. “I did not have the opportunity to enjoy you thus when we were with Jonathan.”

She bit her lip and couldn’t help but look down as he gathered up her breasts as if they were the Crown Jewels, shifting them in his palms. Her nipples were already tight and ready, and when Darkdale bent to lightly kiss one of them, Jane felt a shock of real pleasure jolt through her.

She closed her eyes again, determined to hold up her end of the bargain and allow him to do what he would, but not to respond in any way. Still, as he kissed and lightly nibbled on her tits, it became more and more difficult to ignore the sensations. She fought not to shift or sigh or groan as the shivers of pleasure grew stronger and harder. His mouth was warm and wet, his tongue slick and smooth, and the tingling sensations grew insistent and hotter as he licked and sucked on each breast in turn.

Jane’s heart was racing, her breath was out of sorts, and worst of all, she felt the familiar throbbing and dampness gathering between her legs.
No
, she thought.
I won’t give in to him.

She was thankful when Darkdale moved away, shifting to her skirts, and gave her the opportunity to recover herself. He hiked up the hem, bundling the fabric off to one side, and slid his hands along her thighs. The fresh air felt cooler now that there was only a thin layer of cotton covering her, and Jane realized she’d become warm and damp everywhere.

“By gad,” he murmured, straddling her as he fumbled for the fastenings of his trousers. “I have waited for you for too long. Much too long. And this is only the beginning, my darling.” His voice was rough and unsteady, and when she looked up at him, she saw the dark heat in his eyes and the way his nostrils flared gently as if he fought for control. His lips were full and they glistened, reminding her how busy they’d been just a moment ago, licking and sucking on her sensitive nipples.

She closed her eyes, relieved that the sensations he’d aroused in her had ebbed and her breathing was back to normal. The last thing she wanted was for Darkdale to give her pleasure.

Her breasts jounced gently as the cab trundled along. She felt the jerking motion as he unbuttoned himself, freeing his cock quickly and efficiently, and then he was on top of her again. Jane braced herself as he found the slit in her drawers, and knew she was wet enough that there would be no discomfort when he joined with her.

And then it would be over.

But then his fingers…they opened the slit, and slid in further to find her private, slick opening. He covered her moist lips with his hand, stroking firmly and sensually, teasing and fondling her tight little clit. She began to pant softly, trying to ignore his touch by gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes closed.
No, no, no…
But her body had a will of its own, and she fell deeper and deeper into a well of heat and pleasure and need as his stroking continued incessantly. His fingers teased her, slipping in and around her hot juices as he bent to roughly nuzzle and kiss her throat.

“By gad, what a passionate woman you are,” he muttered against her throat as his thumb moved busily over her clit, pressing down and rubbing the tiny little nib in a cross between pain and intense, hot pleasure. She felt herself straining against him, lifting her hips and pushing up to find more pressure, to find what she needed—then she forced herself to relax, to ease back, her heart thudding and her checks hot and damp. His mouth covered hers again, his tongue shoving past her lips to jam deeply inside, thrusting with a strong stroke that mirrored his fingers.

When he suddenly slipped inside her, thrusting three digits hard and fast, Jane couldn’t hold back a cry of shock and response. He moved, fucking her with his fingers, in and out, using his thumb to play with her little pip as he worked and worked. She gasped beneath him, feeling her body draw up and swell, hearing the sounds of her thick juices as he stroked and stroked. He pushed in deeper, twisting and turning and stroking as she shuddered and swelled around him, her hips moving, bucking and shifting, her insides hot and fluttery and wanting.

She pulled away from his mouth, panting and gasping, wedged down in the corner of the carriage as his hand stroked faster and faster, twisting and pushing and screwing her like he was a machine. She had no control of herself; she couldn’t fight the hot, powerful rise of pleasure as it grew and overtook her.

When she reached her peak, Jane cried out and arched up into his hand, shameful tears leaking from her eyes. She shuddered beneath him, mortified and yet sated, wet and throbbing and hot.

“For the love of heaven,” he muttered, his voice taut as he shifted away. “I’ve never met a woman like you, Jane Clemons. By gad, it’s going to be a thrill to tame you. To make you beg. I will master you.”

She was still undulating inside, panting and twitching, when he moved, adjusting his position between her legs. She saw his cock then: long and purple, thick and turgid, huge and ready, gripped in his hand. She moaned in spite of herself, a wave of heat rushing over her at the thought of being impaled by such a rod. Of being filled and stroked and pleasured. Jane was panting again, hot and throbbing once more.

Darkdale noticed and gave her a breathless grin, his eyes so dark they were like black marbles as he fit himself against her swollen, wet quim. His mouth was tight, and with one smooth thrust, he slid…and slid…and slid inside. As he filled her, deep and long and fat, his groan was low and heartfelt, shuddering through his body so she could feel the depth of emotion.

“At last,” he murmured, holding himself inside her, keeping her impaled on his massive cock. “At long last. You are mine, Jane.”

Then he moved, fast and furious and hard, holding her hips in position as he thrust like a piston. He was so thick and hard and long…and Jane’s well-trained body couldn’t ignore the pleasure of such a tool. No sooner was he pumping inside her than the familiar pleasure filled her, roaring back into play. She couldn’t keep from thrusting up to meet him, from gasping and panting for air as lust overtook her.

When the orgasm burst over her, it was even hotter and stronger than before. Jane cried out, bucking up into him, and he covered her mouth with his, drowning out the sound as he slammed inside her once more. She felt him go rigid and shudder against her, inside her, and then his body sagged against hers.

Closing her eyes, Jane let her head tilt back into the corner of the rumbling carriage.
How could I? How could I let go so easily?

Could I have feelings for this man?

Then she shook her head. No. There was no sense in being ashamed for her body’s reaction. She had no choice, no control over herself—she’d learned that while with the jungle natives. Her body was like a fine instrument, a mechanism, that if played correctly would respond a certain way. Her pleasure at his hands meant nothing.

Darkdale pulled away and looked down at her. His eyes glittered dark and hot. “Well then, my dear…I do hope you enjoyed that.”

“I did not,” she managed to say as he sat up and began to put himself right. “Not at all. I wouldn’t even be here if you weren’t blackmailing me.”

“Indeed?” He glanced at her from the side. “Well, it matters not, for it shan’t happen like that again. You see, my darling Jane, from the moment you set foot over my threshold, into my house as my submissive mistress, there are rules that must be followed. Laws, if you will, that you must adhere to.

“And if you break those rules or disobey me, the punishment shall be very severe.”

— II—

Rules.

What sort of rules could Darkdale mean?

Jane’s heart thudded as the hansom cab turned through a gate and trundled down a short drive. A small brick mansion loomed in front of them. It was set on the outskirts of London, not very far from the Society area of Regents Park, but far enough away that there was a generous lawn—and a high stone wall all around it, to keep the vagrants out, and perhaps others in.

She drew herself up and straightened her shoulders. So there were rules. She could manage them. She could manage anything. This was all for dear, innocent Papa. She’d do whatever was necessary to save his life.

“Well then, my darling. Shall we?” Darkdale offered her his hand as the cab door opened. With the most gallant of manners, he helped her out of the vehicle.

As they approached the house, the front door opened and a very tall, elegant man stood there. He had a close-cropped, neatly trimmed mustache and beard, and his skin was smooth and darkly tanned. “Mr. Darkdale,” he said. “Welcome home.”

He bowed elegantly, his hand fluttering as he gestured them into the house.

“This is Jane,” Darkdale said as soon as the door closed behind them. They stepped down three stairs from the foyer into a large antechamber.

“I see.” The slender man perused Jane as if she were a racehorse. His almond-shaped eyes and dark skin gave him a hint of the exotic. “My congratulations, sir,” he said after finishing his slow, openly critical examination of Jane.