Authors: Chanse Lowell
Oh, what must his household think of her?
She worked on suppressing a moan of disgust at herself.
Instead, she opened his drawers, rummaging through them once more.
She pulled out a folded up undershirt and placed it against her body to check the size, when William came back through, holding three boxes.
“Put that down at once, madam,” he said, placing the parcels on the bed.
Her eyes roamed over his happy visage first before raking over his beautiful bed.
The counterpane was an icy blue silk with embroidered straight lines stitched up the bottom.
That was the sumptuous fabric she had slept under last night.
Once more guilt rifled through her.
She was ungrateful for so much.
Last night she had almost slept in Miller’s filthy bed, but instead wound up in what a king could comfortably settle down in for a night’s slumber.
“I should leave,” she said under her breath.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Only I am privileged enough to see you in this state.” He smirked like he did so often.
She clasped her hands in front of her belly and let her eyes linger on his finely tailored clothes he wore.
How had she wound up here?
“Open these, and then you will allow me to dress you.” He patted the smallest box.
She drifted over to him and removed the soft pink wrappings.
Her heart convulsed like mad when she opened it and saw something so lacy and exquisite, it could not possibly be meant for her body.
She gripped the box and fought for air and for some way to keep steady. “This cannot be for me.”
“It is. I created it with such a creature as you in mind. You are the only woman I will allow to don it.”
She swayed in spot, feeling suffocated. “I need a . . . a moment please.” She stepped away and went back to her naked corner from before, turned toward the wall, set her palms and forehead on the wall.
“This is not real. This does not happen to me. I am just a girl from grimy Cherry Street,” she muttered to herself.
Warm hands were placed on her shoulders, then squeezed the life back into her. “I want you to have these things, and I will be greatly aggrieved if you refuse them. Please, ma chérie. Let me dote on you, dear heart.” His voice was soft, so ragged with his pleading that she found herself nodding and shuffling back over with numb limbs to his gift she was unfit to accept.
“Unwrap the other two,” he instructed.
She did so, barely blinking.
It got worse.
They looked more expensive with exotic fabrics and unheard of colors.
The slippery feel of the gauzy fabric for her garters in her fingers had her hyperventilating.
“I shall dress you. Relax into my touch—you are so tense,” he said, massaging her shoulders for a moment, then he began.
It was a blur of “step here,” and “move there,” along with “lift your right foot, Cherry.”
Her mind went hazy as his calloused fingers gentled along her breasts, down her torso and at her lower back.
The fabrics glided over her and she refused to look at any of it, but only soak up the sounds of his quiet, riveted, thrilled gasps.
She was ridiculous. This was preposterous. She could not make these clothes be presented the way he meant.
“A masterpiece, my darling cherry girl is.” He stepped away and his eyes raked over her. “Sssfffff,” he sucked in his saliva.
Was his mouth watering over her?
Yes, it was, for he was gripping his cock and stroking it. Over her?
Did she not look like a silly little girl, playacting as a sensual woman to be worshiped?
“If I make it out of this room alive with you at my side, knowing you wear my lingerie under that bodice and that skirt, I will feel most accomplished indeed.”
She swallowed and tried to move the lump in her throat. “I feel . . .”
“Yes, you do. My own favored slut.”
She shook her head. “Unworthy.”
He picked her up and set her on the bed. “Do you need a sound lashing on your ass?”
“No, sir.”
“Then what is the problem here? You are delectable and the most enchanting woman ever.”
She dropped her head and looked up at him through her lashes. Her head ached. “People will know. They will discover that you dress me in fine packaging to hide what is really inside this plain old box.” She placed her hands right under her collarbones. “I am nothing fancy. I am a common girl.”
“No longer. You are mine, and I deem you worthy, because you are.” He took her hand, pulled her to her feet and dragged her through the house out the front door. “You see the Walton mansion over there?”
She nodded and squeezed his hand tight. What if someone saw her like this? She wasn’t even aware of what she was wearing. She still refused to look. What if it was a mortifying disaster?
“You see the Vanderbilts’ home as well?”
Once more she jostled her head about.
“They are nothing more than any other man. They reek of riches only because they were lucky, maybe a little smarter than most, but nothing more. Who is to say they are better than you? If you had been born with a little more money and given a better education, you could be living down the street from me. I have never met a woman more intelligent than you. Believe it. You belong here. With. Me.” He placed her hands on his chest.
Oh, but his heart raced like a train down a straight, sure track.
“If you say so,” she said, still a little wary.
“I do. Trust me. ‘Twill be all right. Just be your bright self, and you will fit in perfectly.”
She inhaled and allowed that breath and his look of confidence to spread throughout her body.
“Okay, Will.”
“Yes? No more self-doubt?”
“No—I will behave for you.”
“Magnificent.” He kissed her.
Out here? She about fainted from the way he held her so intimately in public.
“Mine,” he growled, then took her back inside and propped her before a full-length mirror that had not been in this room last time she was here.
His eyes went wide. Was it because he relished the idea that he meant to watch himself fucking her raw in the dark room? Or was it rather because of how transformed she was in this moment with flushed cheeks, a soft mossy green dress that reflected his vibrant eyes and her silken, see-through stockings?
He looked her over like she was stunning.
And for once—she felt he might be right about something.
Chapter 11
William towed Clarissa behind him, beaming like a madman all the while as he showed her around his expansive home.
She made small gasping sounds with each room he took her inside of.
“When does it end? How many are there?” she whispered, hunched over as he pulled her into the servants’ quarters.
“Twenty rooms in total,” he replied.
She paled at that.
“Fret not. It’s of no consequence to you. You’ll be relegated most likely to my bedroom, the dark room, along with wherever you choose to serve to earn a wage. And of course, the parlor is for your use if you’d like it.”
“P-parlor?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
He chuckled. “Salivary issues, have we?”
She nodded with large doe eyes, and he laughed harder. “Darling girl—amusing as ever.”
She tossed him a cutting look. “As usual, you are amused by odd things. When I am trying to entertain you, I daresay you shall know.”
“Yes, I daresay I will.” He bowed to her, and she blushed.
“Now, meet the staff so they will become accustomed to your presence,” he said.
“You mean so
I
will become accustomed to
them
, rather than dodging them like the thrust of a rapier.”
“I’ll grant you
my
rapier.” He took her in his arms and thrust his cock into her, though he was flaccid.
“Will.” She smacked his arm and giggled.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and stole her to the kitchen first.
He knew that was where most of his staff congregated when they were done with chores.
He cleared his throat, and they all jumped to their feet from the table they had gathered around.
“This is Miss Clarissa Stone. I intend to have her here in my home often. You are to treat her always as a most treasured guest.” He eyed them all in turn.
They each bowed. All except Pauline.
He narrowed his eyes at her, and she followed suit, but as stiffly as possible, and with her eyes shifting between Cherry girl and him.
His arm was still around Clarissa.
“Nice to meet all of you,” Clarissa said. She stepped out of his hold and walked up to Pauline on the left end first. “I truly hope we can be friends.” She curtsied, then shook Pauline’s hand.
Pauline looked as if she had been struck by a plank on the back of the head.
William almost gloated at her.
His girl.
His!
She was brilliant to do something like that.
She went down the line. “And you are?”
“Mrs. Garrity, ma’am.”
Another curtsy and handshake by Cherry girl.
Next she met Willamina, the head cook, followed by Davis, a few other essential personnel, then she finished up with Samuel.
“Ah, yes—my hero. I suspect you are the one that granted us wood when we most needed it? ‘Twas a chilly night when that bundle arrived.” She gave him a mock glare.
He laughed. “Yes, ma’am. You have discovered my secret. I tend to slip out at night to find people in need of wood for their stoves. Sometimes I deliver coal instead.” He bowed to her, grinning with a twinkle in his eyes.
She patted his shoulder, and at once, William was pulling her back, his chest tightening like mad. “Yes, well, that’s quite enough of all of that. Clarissa has much to do today. She insists she will join you all soon in the ranks, but I’m a hard man to move.” He grinned at her and squeezed her into his side.
“Yes, I’m hoping you can all enlighten me as to what position needs filled,” Clarissa spoke up when William was hoping she understood his meaning.
He dropped his disapproving gaze on her.
She ignored it and approached Mrs. Garrity. “Can you tell me if you need a window washer? Maybe an assistant cook perhaps?”
“We need someone to help on the grounds. The garden has been neglected since we lost two of our gardeners as of late,” Garrity replied.
Pauline cut him a nasty look.
Oh good heavens. Yes, woman, they quit after they heard and a few saw what I’d done to you at that tree, stroking your naked body with a cut switch.
He rolled his eyes. How ridiculous. He’d done much worse than that before, only this time, he’d failed to warn his staff to stay away or to dismiss them for the night.
“
Oh j’en serai ravie!
” Clarissa said with a little hop. “
J’adore les jardins d’ici. Ils sont stupéfiants avec leur magnificence. Si luxuriant et exotique!
”
When she slipped into French, most of them had eyes as big as the round windows in his bedroom.
He chuckled and pulled her back in line next to him once more. “You will turn their brains to mush if you keep at this pace, darling.” He kissed her nose, and there was a quiet gasp.
He’d be damned if he was going to pretend this woman was anything other than irresistible.
She flushed crimson, then smiled back at him with a furtive look and dropped her eyes.
“Yes, well, she will return later to dazzle you with more French.” He took her hand, patted it and removed her from the kitchen.
But right as he was leaving, his phone rang in his study.
“This can only mean trouble.” He groaned and brought her into his office with him.
As soon as he answered, he’d wished he had not.
“You must get down here at once,” Morgan said.
William took a seat behind his desk.
“Why must I? Give me a good reason.” William reached for her, then patted his lap.
“All hell is bursting loose on Wall Street—the banks are having trouble, and we need our greatest financiers here to back them, just in case . . .”
Clarissa sat on his lap, and he stroked her back.
She purred. The woman arched into his lap like a perfect little kitten.
He scratched at her scalp, loving the feel and look of her loose curls. Did she have to put it up to go out?
“Did you hear me, Ferrismore? We need you, man,” Morgan bellowed in the phone.
“Yes, all right. Mind you, I will only stay to settle things, then I leave. I have other responsibilities outside of dealing with these trained circus chimps.” He ended the call and huffed.