Little Light

Thank you for all the support! This chapter is shorter than the first, but I made up for it by making it a bit juicier. I anticipate there will be 3-5 chapters for this story in total, so stay tuned!

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When the carriage rolled to a stop, Edwin Archambault sat patiently, drumming his fingertips against his knee. The girl, Lucia, had not protested when he raised her by the ropes so she could sit up. She just let him manipulate her so she leaned against the side of the carriage, where she was now with a glazed look in her eyes.

She took deep breaths, which was so different from when she had been squirming under his touch and nearly hyperventilating, back arched off the seat as her body begged for more. He smiled to himself, pleased at how lucky he had been to find her.

He had been to Clarence Willoughby's twice before, once six months ago, and the other time six months before that. He'd found the stock to be lacking, if he were to put it nicely. The bumbling balding fool had tried to pull one on him, even suggesting they walk through Section B, that "One of our younger ones may fulfill your needs!"

Edwin had shaken his head in disgust. He wanted a woman that was meant for it, who, even if she didn't know it, was desperate to be owned. But how could he explain that to someone like Clarence? He thought of the way the near-bald man had nearly tripped over himself when he thanked Edwin for his business.

It would've been a futile task, so he'd just shook his head and said no thank you, that he'd be back next time.

He snuck a look at Lucia, who seemed to have come to her senses, and was determinedly not looking in his direction.

He found her peculiar, the way that she sat quietly. She didn't ask any questions or interact with him if she could help it. But on the other hand, she responded to him easily, following his every instruction without much protest. He could tell that she was embarrassed by him, and even more embarrassed by the way that her body readily reacted to him. He would be embarrassed, too, if his body was as submissive as hers.

But he supposed that was something he wouldn't ever experience.

The door of the carriage opened, and Richard stuck his head in. "Would you like me to escort the girl, Master Edwin?"

"That's not necessary. Thank you, Richard." Edwin replied, and ducked past where Lucia sat to step out onto the wet grass. She tracked his movements with cool eyes, no longer pretending he didn't exist. He picked her up by the ropes again - it was easy, with how slight she was - and carried her in his arms, her body leaned against his chest.

"I'll bring your things in soon." Richard said and made his way back to the front of the carriage. He continued to drive it up the path as Edwin walked up the path with Lucia in his arms.

She didn't say anything, but as he looked up the path to where his estate lay he felt her eyes on his face.

"Are you searching for something?" He said, and was rewarded with her immediate deference. He could've grinned. She surely was amusing.

He didn't mind her looking at him. In fact, he quite liked it. Her eyes were wide, and he thought that she was like a cat, or an owl, the way she examined everything without saying a word out loud. And, when there was anything that she found embarrassing, she tried to hide it even though it was as obvious as ever in those big eyes and pink cheeks.

When she averted her eyes, it made him want to grab her by the chin so she couldn't hide her face from him. He wanted to force her down on her knees again, shove his cock into the back of her throat, and make her take every inch of him. He knew that would only make her dripping wet, confused why her body reacted the way it did for him.

He made his way up the path to his estate, feeling Lucia breathe shallowly between his arms. He crossed through the metal-wrought gates and strode through the grand front door, where Martha stood to greet him.

"Welcome home, sir."

Edwin allowed her to assist him, her hands working quickly to undo the clasps of his cloak. She didn't say anything about Lucia, but he could see the way her eyes flicked over the young girl with a hint of disapproval, who'd turned her face towards his chest as if it would hide her countenance.

He knew how Martha felt about his decision, but he didn't mind. She'd been a loyal servant for long enough that she could indulge in her opinions.

"I will have the kitchen prepare your supper. How shall-" She stopped herself, struggling to put her question into words.

"Have Amos prepare just a bit more than usual. On one plate is sufficient."

Martha inclined her head. "Very well. I will see to it."

"Thank you, Martha." He strode past her and up the steps that led to the second floor. Throughout the whole exchange, Lucia did not give any indication that she heard them speaking, and Edwin wondered how much she was curious about him, this new life that she was being brought into. If she was curious, she didn't show it, and that in and of itself was a point of fascination for him.

He stepped down the hall, the hard rubber of his boots tapping against the hard floors and echoing down the space. He made his way to the end and pushed open the mahogany door, entering his study.

"I'm going to put you down now," he said, and placed her on the couch he had near the doorway.

When he did so, she finally looked up at him. There

was

curiosity there, hidden under a layer of something else, an opaque mask that she forced to her exterior. She was trying so hard to hide herself away.

Edwin smiled to himself as he made his way to his desk and pulled out his letter opener, the sharp end of it glinting from light streaming through the tall windows. All it took for her stony exterior to crumble away was a light touch. Just an ounce of effort on his part seemed to make her resolve melt away.

When Lucia saw him holding the letter opener, her body stiffened as fear bloomed across her delicate features. She didn't speak, though, only the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she kept her eyes fastened on the sharp metal in his hand.

He leaned over her, ignoring her obvious anxiety as he slashed away the ropes restraining her, careful not to nick her creamy skin. Her fear was delicious, and a possessive arousal grew in his stomach. He couldn't wait to see it on her face again when she was split open underneath him. He wanted to see the expression on her face, to watch those eyes widen as he twisted arousal into the fear he provoked in her.

She sat still, obedient, as he finished his work. Her fingers twitched by her sides, as if she wanted to cover herself with her hands.

Edwin was silent for a moment, allowing her to grow uncomfortable. He wanted to see if she would do it so that he could punish her. He was almost disappointed when she didn't. Instead, she finally spoke, a dry whisper.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he answered, his fascination with her only growing. "Are you hungry?"

"A little bit." She said, still looking into his face as if to break into his thoughts.

He chose to ignore it, and handed her a blanket before sitting down at his desk. "I'm sure you are cold. It gets quite brisk in my home, even indoors, once summer passes." He began to rifle through the papers on his desk, an assortment of letters and other business that had been awaiting him.

Lucia took the blanket, and shivering, wrapped it around her shoulders. It was soft and plush, and immediately helped insulate her from the cold. She hadn't quite felt how cool the air was until he put her down; the interior of the carriage was warmer than she would've thought, and when he carried her in his broad arms his warmth of his body cut through the sharp autumn breeze.

He didn't say anything more to her, focused instead on the things on his desk.

She was confused at the sudden lack of attention, but it mixed with the relief she felt that she was being left alone. For the first time since he bought her, she felt as if she could breathe, like she wasn't directly under his scrutiny.

She shifted on the seat, putting her legs next to her and adjusting the blanket so it would cover them. The blanket was large enough that only her head was out in the cold. Her positioning meant that her body was tilted to the side, so she rested her head on the back of the couch, her face towards Edwin even though she tried to keep her glances towards him brief.

A silence fell between them, Edwin at his seat with a furrowed brow, the sound of his pen rasping on paper every so often, and Lucia thankful for the blanket as she watched him, a little more obviously now. There were a few times where he gave a deep exhale, where his finger tapped against the wood of his desk, little habits that betrayed his otherwise relaxed demeanor.

The silence was broken when a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," he said, looking up expectantly. Martha entered, holding a tray with food on it.

"Your dinner, sir," she said quietly, walking forward to place it on his desk. Lucia's stomach rumbled as the smell of food reached her, but she kept her face still as Martha passed her.

"She sent another letter," he said to Martha with a hint of exasperation, who tucked behind her ear the stray hairs that had escaped from her severe bun.

"She cares for you." She responded, curtly but not unkindly, taking the plates and cups from the tray and placing it on top of the desk.

"Hm." He didn't give a proper answer, his attention back on the papers in front of him, even as Martha made her way to the fireplace and began poking and prodding at it. It didn't take her long to set it, and soon the sound of the crackling fire cast a warm backdrop against the otherwise cold silence of the house.

"Thank you, Martha." He said to her without looking up. "You may retire. I prefer not to be disturbed for the night."

"Of course." She said, wiping her hands on the apron at her waist and making to walk back out.

As she did so, she looked at Lucia, who was still sitting down, motionless and wrapped up in her blanket. Martha's eyes, hazel with the outer edges crinkling with age, flitted across the younger woman's face with an air of discontent. It was a brief moment, as she swept out the door just a second later, but it still left Lucia feeling uncomfortable.

"Lucia." He called her then. "Come. Eat with me."

She hesitated, not quite wanting to close the space between them. She'd enjoyed the brief respite she'd had away from him, really, but she could find no way of refusing his command. She padded across the room, the blanket still around her and her feet sliding across the frigid floor.

"To me," he said. As she approached, he took the blanket from her. She allowed him to do so, reluctant to lose the protection around her, and then immediately regretted it sorely. The fire hadn't warmed the air yet, and though it was unwelcome the coldness wrapped around her, the temperature and her nakedness making her cross her arms around herself.

She stood in front of him, not missing the way his eyes lingered on her body.

He slid his chair out, so there was more space between himself and the edge of the desk. "Sit here," he said, gesturing to his lap.

She felt warmth rise up on her cheeks as she followed his instruction, weak to the way his commanding tone gripped her.

He guided her as she sat, so her bottom was on his left thigh and her back rested against his arm, which wrapped around her shoulders and rested on her leg. She was nearly glad for it as the heat of his body seeped into her. With his other hand he began to fiddle with the food on the desk, which despite Lucia's discomfort, made her mouth water with the way it smelled.

It would have nearly been time for her day's meal, if she'd still been in her prison, and her body seemed to know it as her stomach gurgled. She was mortified at the sound, but Edwin only laughed.

"You must have been hungry," he said as he cut at the omelet, and then lifted the fork to her mouth.

Lucia looked at him, feeling awkward with how she was perched on him and expected to be fed like a babe, but his expression yielded nothing but gentle encouragement. She opened her mouth and allowed him to slide the piece of food in, hating how she was being coddled. He ate too, as she chewed slowly and carefully.

This was how the rest of the meal went, with Edwin feeding her small bites whenever she finished her mouthful. He didn't allow her to drink, either, instead murmuring to her, "Are you thirsty?" When she nodded yes, he lifted the mug of tea to her and had her sip its fragrant warmth.

The meal seemed to stretch on for far too long, but Lucia would not have dared to complain as she sat obediently, being fed by him like a child. Even as she hated it, her body betrayed her, leaning into his warmth and her mouth opening instinctively to accept the food. He seemed content for them to spend their time in this manner, even though it made her want to twist away, being so close to him.

At last they finished eating, the plate in front of them empty with only a few pieces of food scattered around it.

Lucia had been watching the food in front of them disappear with alarm, knowing that this uncomfortably peaceful time would be brief. She was proven right when, after they ate the last of the meal, the hand he had on her shifted to her hip.

She nearly jumped out of his lap when he pressed his lips against her, right behind her ear. Instead, she gasped as he lay little kisses at the delicate skin of her neck. The sensation was light, as if someone were tickling her, but it was also electric. Her hands gripped at the arms he had wrapped around her torso, which were unyielding as she tried to fight against their imprisonment.

Lucia cried out as he moved to the nape of her neck, his lips sliding across her sensitive skin. Much to her horror, she felt him awaken underneath her, his hardness beginning to poke into the flesh of her bottom. What was so much worse, though, was how her body moved without her control, her hips shifting from side to side as she withstood his attack on her. She knew she was grinding into him, her bottom pressing back into his crotch, where she knew his manhood was eager to encounter her again.

No matter how much she tried, there was no escaping him and how he made her feel: teetering at the edge of a precipice, torn between saving herself by breaking away from him, and giving into the new feelings he awakened in her.

He slid his hand to her center, finding her body's enthusiasm dripping from her. There was a sharp intake of breath from her as his hands glided through her slickness, to find the part of her that her body thirsted for him to find.

Lucia still squirmed, her eyes closed as she let out shallow breaths. She knew she shouldn't want this but her body betrayed her as it welcomed the stimulation he awarded her with. He'd begun to use his fingers on her, slipping between her folds as she cried out in response.

"You're getting my trousers wet, little one," he whispered roughly into her ear. All she could do was pant in response, the physical sensations of his touch threatening to overpower her even as the heat of his breath drifted into her ear, making her shoulders creep up as if they could fend him off.

She couldn't contain her exclamation as he sank his teeth into her shoulder, the dull pain of it mingling with the pleasure coursing through her body. Edwin chuckled darkly, his fingers between her legs making tight circles around her clit and covered in her juices.

The sensations were fusing into one, hot and heavy in her stomach as all thought left her head. The reluctance left her, as did her apprehensions, her shyness at being manipulated in this coarse manner - instead she was left as a trembling mess, her body wanting him in a way that couldn't be put into words.

"Let's play a game," he said, removing his hand from her sex. A whine left her mouth, a complaint as this source of pleasure left her. Her sanity came back to her slowly, filling her with shame as she lay slumped against him, breathing hard. "How would you like that?"

She felt dazed, still unable to think properly. But she knew he expected her to answer, and so she grabbed at whatever words came to her mouth. "I... I don't know."

Momentarily she was afraid that her answer wasn't satisfactory, that it would result in pain, but he seemed not to mind it as he lifted her up in his arms. She let out a squeak of surprise, but was ultimately glad for his steadiness underneath her.

He carried her out the door of his study, and in the hallway took the door on their left. Lucia blinked, still feeling out of it. They were in his bedroom, where there was a large bed in the center, lined with rich maroon fabric. He put her down on the bed, where she remained lying down, looking up at him.

Edwin was gripped by desire as he looked down at the young woman in front of him. Her lips were parted slightly as she looked up at him with those captivating eyes, breathing heavily, still not quite recovered from his assault. He had planned to let her get rest tonight, but he'd felt the way she tried to support herself while eating, trying not to lean against him but failing, and it had caused a rush of arousal to flush through him, imagining making her submit. He wanted to make her lean against him fully, to rely on him for arousal, for fear, for...

"A game," he repeated himself, his voice rough as he collected himself.

She didn't answer, electing only to look up at him in response. She saw the way his face had changed, a shadow hanging over his sharp features as his eyes ran over her. He really made her afraid, but she wasn't sure whether the trembling of her core was as much from fear as it was the arousal that had been growing there.

He took a step closer to her, and if she had been standing she would've taken a step back. However, because she was on the bed in this manner, the only thing she could do was shrink into the mattress. It did nothing to put any space between them, though, and instead only left her feeling even more vulnerable, trapped between the bed underneath her and this man who approached her, a predatory look in those icy eyes.

He put a knee up on the bed next to her, his leg outside of hers.

"Are you not curious about the game?"

She swallowed, understanding he wanted her to speak. When she spoke, her voice was small, and she hated how weak she sounded even if it was an accurate reflection of her resolve against him. "What is the game?"

"If you want me to stop, I will." He put his other leg on the mattress, this one between her legs. "All you must do is tell me to."

He was bent over her now, his face mere inches from hers.

"How does that sound?" He whispered.

"I don't-" She was cut off by his lips against hers.

Lucia whimpered, afraid for how his kiss claimed her. His mouth was hot against hers, his lips sliding between hers at an infuriatingly slow pace that made her heart feel as if it would beat right out of her chest. She felt herself melt into him, unable to resist as his mouth asserted his power over her.

The weight of his body settled on top of her as he slid his hand underneath her waist, pulling her close to him. She put her hands against his chest, as if in a lame attempt to push him off of her, but didn't resist otherwise as she accepted the way his mouth covered hers - how he covered her.

He let out a sound that would best be described as a growl as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. His thick muscle glided across her tongue, and she let out a desperate whine at the sensation, her stomach tightening into knots of arousal. She could hardly think as he invaded her, his warmth both inside her mouth and outside of her body.