Chapter Seventeen
Penelope
She could not move. Could hardly breathe as Simon positioned himself between her legs. Her chest ached as she tried forcing air into her lungs, and for a brief second, the canopy of the enormous bed swirled in a dizzying rotation of colors.
Then she felt him there. Hard. Unyielding. Searing.
Another sob caught in her throat before it was swallowed down along with a wave of nausea as she stared up at her new husband.
How brutal would he be when he ripped her virginity away? Would he delight in the pain he caused?
Simon’s gaze was intense, the deep blue of his eyes piercing and sharp as knives as he regarded her.
A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead, and when his eyes drifted to her mouth, a satisfied smirk lifted the corners of his beautifully hard lips.
His hips rocked against her body’s cleft, and Penelope muffled a cry at the feel of his shaft touching her so intimately.
Her chin wobbled, realizing how very large he was.
Then something quite unexpected occurred. Rather than cruelly pushing his way into her body, Simon paused. Reaching up, he caressed the curve of her cheek with the tip of his forefinger.
“Do not tremble so, Penelope.” His eyes softened, his tone deceptively soothing.
“I shall take care as I make you mine. Pain is fleeting, and pleasure will soon follow again.” Slowly, with calm resoluteness, he began his conquest. Pushing farther and farther, forcing her tight channel to stretch in accommodation.
Pressing a kiss to her mouth, he murmured low, “You are still wet and silky from your climax, little wife. It’s easing my way, although you are still so snug around my cock it feels as though I’m being strangled. ”
Penelope did not reply. How could she when the pain of this invasion went beyond all comprehension?
It was an agony unlike anything she’d ever experienced and was akin to what it must feel like to be torn in two.
She did not dare cry, however. She surrendered completely, willing herself to accept the ache without a whisper of complaint as Simon breached the thin membrane of her virginity and seated himself fully within her.
“Ah, bloody hell,” Simon groaned, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss that snatched all remaining air from her lungs. “You feel incredible around me. So tight. So damned warm.” He rolled his hips in a motion that finally wrung a helpless moan from Penelope.
“It-it hurts,” she mumbled in between his assault of her mouth. “Please…my lord…”
“I know it does, mouse.” Simon plunged inside her and withdrew, repeating the action until his actions grew more unrestrained.
“A price to be paid, remember?” He kissed her neck, his teeth raking the slim column and biting down in sharp nibbles that both frightened her and stirred up an odd tingle deep in the pit of her belly.
He moved without hesitation now, and Penelope could do nothing to stop him, not with her hands bound as they were.
Would I stop him if I could? Would I push him away? Or would I simply hold on to him as though he were an anchor in the storm he has created?
A moment later, Simon threw his head back, his entire body going taut as he arched above her.
A muffled shout of conquest bounced off the walls of the room as he found his pleasure.
Penelope felt his member swell inside her, then a pulsating warmth that seemed to go on forever spread through her.
Simon slowly, methodically rotated his hips against her, his breathing harsh and heavy as he chased the last vestiges of his climax.
Penelope bit her lip when he finally sagged against her, the satisfaction rolling off him almost tangible. For a few moments, he simply rested his forehead against hers as his breath returned to normal. Reaching up, he deftly untied her hands before moving off her body.
“Stay here, mouse. I’ll return in a moment.”
He rolled off the bed, leaving Penelope to stare at the canopy above her without his weight nearly crushing her. She wasn’t brave enough to move from the position he’d left her, but she did bring her arms to her chest so she could rub the faint red marks the cravat left on her wrists.
Now that he was no longer inside her, taking up every inch of space she needed to breathe, she felt…empty. And even more strangely, she experienced the oddest sensation of a vague dissatisfaction. As if her body craved something it anticipated and did not receive.
“Lie still for me, Penelope, while I clean you.” Simon set a small bowl of water beside the bed before dipping a folded square of linen in it.
When he wrung it out, Penelope noted it was a monogrammed handkerchief emblazoned with the Camden crest. It matched the one on the black robe now covering his leanly muscled form.
Embarrassed anger suffused Penelope, leaving her warm and flushed with the sudden onslaught. She could only imagine the sight she presented. Naked and spread-eagled on the earl’s bed. The space between her legs wet and sticky with his seed and her blood.
“I can do it myself.”
The defiant words flew from her lips before she could stifle them.
She shrank back as he bent over her, but Simon’s brow merely furrowed at her foolhardy declaration.
When he passed the cloth over the tender flesh.
Penelope hissed at the pain, her eyes snapping shut so she could not see the man tending her.
“I suppose you could,” he finally said in a genial tone. “But this is something I insist upon. You see, it’s my duty to take care of you in such matters. And especially after we engage in intercourse.”
“Do you do the same for all of your women?” she choked out when he wrung the cloth, dipping it in the cool water before carefully wiping the inside of her thighs.
Turning her head, she stared at the ring on her hand.
The blood-red ruby twinkled in the low light.
Her new husband had chosen her wedding ring with purpose, it seemed.
Blood jewels for the blood of a virgin.
“Only the ones I’ve married,” he replied.
Gritting her teeth at the pithy response, Penelope willed her muscles to relax as Simon worked.
She wondered what would happen now. Would he leave her?
Or have her removed to a cold, empty bedroom?
She shivered at the thought, for as much as she dreaded enduring her husband’s scrutiny, she feared being alone even more.
It seemed as though an eternity passed before Simon completed his self-appointed task.
During the ordeal, Penelope grew drowsy with exhaustion.
She barely acknowledged it when he maneuvered her naked body, stripping away the soiled coverlet so that she rested on clean sheets.
She watched from beneath heavy, slitted eyelids as Simon tossed his robe aside.
Now, naked as she was, he slid into the bed beside her, propped himself against the mounds of pillows, and gathered her close.
She shouldn’t have snuggled into him, nor moved so that she was sprawled over his body.
However, there was no hope for it when her husband growled with approval and pulled her even tighter to him.
A muffled sigh escaped her. Simon was warmer than the early afternoon sunlight piercing through the half-drawn draperies.
And he was surprisingly comfortable, his broad chest serving as a makeshift pillow for her head.
She told herself it was only for a few moments, that she would only seek comfort until he drifted to sleep, and then she would place some distance between them.
“I realize our coupling was not pleasant for you, wife,” Simon murmured against the tangle of her hair.
His voice was a deep rumble that reverberated through her bones before settling over her like a heavy blanket.
It was almost…comforting. The unexpected weight and warmth of his benevolence lulled her into complacency.
“I hurt you, it’s true, but that was unavoidable this first time, considering your virginal state.
” His arm tightened around her waist, drawing a faint whimper of protest from Penelope.
“Shhhh. You should sleep now, because make no mistake, Penelope. Once you’ve had a bit of rest, I shall take what belongs to me again. Pain or no.”
*
It was sometime in the late afternoon that Simon awoke Penelope by gently caressing her breasts, tweaking her nipples in turn until she tried turning away from him with a sleepy moan.
She might as well have tried stemming the ocean tides.
Simon slowly and inexorably tricked her into submission, his tongue coaxing hers to return his kisses until she was breathless and limp.
As he had before, he brought her to a shuddering, shameful climax using his relentless mouth and thick fingers before carefully thrusting his way into her body.
Two things were different during this interlude.
One being that her hands were left unbound, and the second being that their union was less painful than the first time.
Her own body surprised Penelope. The tightness inside her stretched and softened and accommodated the invasion as if she were simply a vessel for Simon’s pleasure.
Even amid the pinch of discomfort, there was a strange sense of acceptance, a small tingle of confused yearning pricking her that was far more shocking than anything he’d done thus far.
When the act was done, Simon once again rested his forehead against Penelope’s own. He pressed soft kisses to her face and jawline, murmuring nonsensical things until her world stopped spinning and slowly came back to its proper tilt.
It was all so very confusing. The tender regard now did not match the sinful phrases this man uttered into her ear as he claimed her.
She blushed, suddenly remembering how he hooked one arm under her knee, pulling her leg high up onto his waist while harshly gripping one of her buttocks with his free hand.
He took without asking. Without apology.
So sure in his mastery over her and the fact that she would not deny him anything he wanted to do.
The dark, erotic commands he gave her were outrageous, the praise more so.
Her cheeks even now flamed hot as she recalled those moments.
“Look at you, my sweet little mouse. Taking my cock so well. Do you know that every time I thrust too deep…like this…you moan so prettily that I can’t help but do it again and again just so I can hear you?
Such a beautiful, delicious wife I have now.
Soon, you will be desperate for the unholy things I will do that will unravel you completely.
You will beg me, Penelope Blackthorne. Scream for me.
Drop to your knees and take me into your mouth so I can fu—”
“What’s going around that pretty head of yours, Penelope?”
The raspy rumble of Simon’s drowsy voice shook Penelope from her reverie.
“Nothing, my lord,” she stuttered, embarrassed that he might guess the recollections occupying her mind in that moment.
“Nothing,” Simon repeated, his tone rich with disbelief as he slid off her body.
Stretching out beside her like a lazy tiger, he propped his head in the palm of one hand so he could stare down at her flushed face.
“Something, I think.” Reaching out with his free hand, he lifted a lock of her hair and watched it curl around his forefinger.
A war seemed to be raging behind the dark blue of his eyes. “Did I hurt you this time?”
Penelope swallowed hard. What would happen if she said no? Would he consider it a challenge?
“I-I wouldn’t say it hurt like before.” Her lips pressed tight as Simon continued watching her closely. “It was uncomfortable. As if I were too full…”
A light in the depths of Simon’s eyes flared bright, his jaw clenching as though something inside him fought against being restrained. “Did you enjoy it at all?”
Her face felt as though it was on fire. How on earth could she answer that? “Some of it, my lord.”
The corners of Simon’s mouth tipped upward. “Which part did you find unobjectionable?”
“You know…you know which part, my lord,” she said in an agonized whisper.
“I want to hear you say it, wife.”
This was some form of diabolical control.
Punishment. Revenge. Most likely, all of it, Penelope decided in a moment of clarity.
Simon enjoyed her humiliation. Enjoyed hearing her admit that she found a small measure of pleasure in her own ravishment.
She shouldn’t be ashamed of what this wicked man forced her to feel.
She should not cower nor quiver with embarrassment at how her body betrayed her.
After all, she had little choice in the matter.
She was his wife. His property. His chattel.
In the eyes of English law, he could do with her as he wished.
“When you kissed me…and your fingers and mouth were there…” The words trailed away, her newfound bravado quickly fading when Simon’s teeth flashed white with amusement.
“One day, you shall tell me exactly what you want and how you desire it. I doubt I will grant your wishes in such situations, but I will certainly enjoy hearing you beg for it,” Simon drawled.
Silence stretched between them for a long moment, then he said, “We are returning to Camden House very early in the morning. I’ve already instructed that your belongings be packed for the trip.
I’ve also arranged for a light supper to be delivered here to our rooms in a little while, after which, I’m certain to want you again. ”
“Again?” Penelope nearly squeaked the word. Her body quivered at the thought of Simon taking her a third time.
“Yes. Again.” His gaze was inscrutable as he leaned over and pressed a deceptively gentle kiss to her mouth. “I’ve taken extreme care with you up to this point, Penelope. But my benevolence only goes so far. It’s time you experienced what it truly means to be the wife of a Rakehell.”