Chapter 10
EMMETT
I’d seen the anger and then the fear, which I did my best to alleviate, but the look he has now is the one I want, the one I’ve craved all day.
His eyes are dark and liquid, full of lust. I watch his throat as he swallows and wonder what he would taste like if I licked it.
Emboldened by his reaction, I lean in to try.
Instead I’m pushed roughly aside, and he rips the jar of salve from my hand.
He marches across the room and starts walking up and down, muttering to himself. He doesn’t even glance my way. Again he’s rejecting me, and I can’t take it anymore. No one makes me feel the way he does. Now that I’ve experienced it, I will not let it go.
The desire that’s been bubbling under the surface all day takes over, and I cross the room and stand in his way. He stops suddenly, his face dark. I reach for him, hoping he doesn’t flinch or turn away. I couldn’t bear it if he did.
I reach out and put my hand at the nape of his neck. He doesn’t move except to turn his head away from me.
“Don’t send me away again. Don’t reject me,” I whisper. “Please, Father.”
He turns his head to look at me and I give him a tentative smile, scared that if I move too fast, he’ll push me off. I slowly step closer and press against him so he can feel how hard I am, how much I want him.
He reaches between us and cups my dick through my hose. I lean into his firm hand, desperate for the pressure, as he runs his thumb up my length and across the end. A whine escapes me and I hear him moan softly in response.
His breath is irregular and his eyes hold a heat that takes my breath away.
I lean forward again and gently press my lips to his.
I close my eyes, and for a second the only thing I can feel is the hand that pleasures me and the mouth that praises me.
Then he pulls back and my eyes blink open.
I think he’s going to shove me away, but instead he spins me around and pushes me towards the heavy, carved wooden chair at the side of the room.
I almost fall face first into it, and I try to turn back around but he stops me.
“Bend over,” he says in the voice that makes me tingle, and I do as he says, gripping the arms of the chair. I gasp as he pulls down my hose and drawers, freeing my cock and exposing my arse to him. He kneads his fingers into my arse cheeks.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, and I bend over a little further.
“We’re keen, aren’t we?” he mutters and I hum.
“You’re going to be a good boy for me, aren’t you?” I nod my head and whine, his words making my dick, which has been aroused half the day, hurt even more. I reach for it, wanting to relieve some of the pressure.
“Don’t.” His command immediately stills my hand.
“You can’t touch yourself until I tell you.
Is that clear?” I nod again and he returns to kneading my arse, squeezing and pulling my cheeks apart.
He grazes a finger across my hole and a groan comes out of my mouth.
I had no idea it could feel this good. He removes his finger briefly and I catch the scent of herbs as it returns.
“Just relax, or this will hurt.” It’s the only warning I get before his finger pushes into me. I gasp and almost see stars.
He growls slightly, and I try to do what he asks, desperate to please him.
He grips my hip with his other hand, holding me steady as his finger goes deeper, pulling in and out of my hole, fast and rough.
I bite down on my lip. It hurts, but it also feels so good, and I find myself pushing back on him.
He adds another finger, twisting hard a couple of times before grunting and withdrawing his hand.
Although the sting has gone, the sensation of suddenly being empty is almost unbearable.
“Please, Father,” I beg, bending further as if presenting him with more of my arse might hurry him up.
“I’m here.” His voice is a dark snarl. Then I feel the head of his dick against my hole.
He breaches me and I choke back a cry, as the sharp pain is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
After a brief pause, he slams all the way in with such force I nearly hit my head on the hard wooden back of the chair.
He holds my hips and hauls me back, still impaled on his cock.
He starts moving, fast and strong. The initial hurt recedes to a dull burn, which is nothing compared to the delicious feeling of being filled over and over again.
I grip the arms of the chair harder, holding myself as steady as I can as he pounds into me.
My head becomes fuzzy, and all I can feel is the unyielding wood of the chair against my knees, his fingers digging hard into my hips, and his dick ramming into me over and over again.
He issues a series of grunts and growls, but his breath is ragged, and I barely hear him when he mutters, “Touch yourself now.”
I shift slightly, so I can still support myself with one hand and reach between my legs.
My cock is painful and sensitive as I wrap my hand around it.
Being aroused for so long, it doesn’t take more than a few strokes before I spasm as my orgasm rips through me.
As it does, Theobald moans deeply and holds me tighter as he comes inside me, thrusting a few more times.
He stills but doesn’t move, and I stay in place, letting my breathing return to normal as I watch my release pooling on the seat of the chair below me.
He withdraws slowly and I grit my teeth against the sting.
He takes a step backwards and I straighten up, wincing as I turn to face him.
For a fleeting second I see a mix of tenderness and guilt cross his face, and I smile, heady with euphoria and wanting to share it with him.
Then his expression twists into a grimace of horror as he looks at me, half naked and with his seed dripping out of me.
He steps out of his linen drawers, which are around his ankles, and throws them at me.
“Clean yourself up and get out,” he barks harshly, and tears prick at my eyes.
“But—” He holds up his hand and turns his face away, as if he can’t bear to look at me.
I swallow around the lump in my throat and wipe myself as best I can.
I pull up my hose, holding in the whine that wants to escape when I move and realise how sore I am.
I can’t hold back the tears any longer, and they fall, mingling with my cum on the chair as I try to scrub that clean too.
When I’ve finished, I look at Theobald, but he’s retreated to the other side of the room, facing the wall with his arms crossed.
I hesitate with the soiled linen in my hand, unsure what to do with it. My chest feels ripped open from his cruelty, and I can’t hold back a sob. I see his shoulders stiffen.
“Get. Out,” he growls, still facing the other way. I gently place the drawers on the chair, and on shaking legs I slip out of the door.
I make it back to my bedroom without anyone seeing me.
But I don’t sleep. I lie awake for a long time, tears drying on my cheeks.
I know the Theobald I just witnessed isn’t the same one who proudly showed me round his abbey and made sure I had something to eat.
I know I can find that Theobald again. After a long time I hear his footsteps in the passageway as he returns, followed by the soft closing of his door.
I listen intently but the sound of the key turning in his lock never comes.