Viridis - A Steampunk Romance (32 page)

Though Phoebe desperately wanted another drink to
help her down the road to oblivion, she felt a panic grip her when
Victor handed her a large glass of Viridis rather than port. “Drink
it or the deal is off.”

“How the hell did you get my herbal?” She had never
sold any bottles of Viridis, reserving it all for her club.

“My dear, money always finds a way, does it not? Now
drink it before I change my mind.”

She glared at him, and took the glass. “You truly
are a bastard.”

He just laughed.

By the time she had finished, her head was
swimming, and every nerve in her body was electrified with barely
contained energy. When Victor stood before her, offering her his
hand, she took a deep breath, steeled her resolve, and took it,
letting him pull her out of the chair.

He led her to his spacious sleeping chamber,
elegant though elaborately done. It completely suited him, the
ostentatious prig. A roaring fire was still going near a small
sitting area, and the four-poster bed loomed just beyond.

Phoebe heard the lock on the door click
over, and she turned just in time to see Victor remove the key and
place it well out of her reach on top of the tall armoire. She
swallowed her rising panic, and tried to concentrate instead on the
reason she was there— Seth.

Victor strode towards her, a gleam in his
eyes and just a hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her close, his cheek
brushing against hers, his beard rough against her face. Her heart
pounded and her skin crawled with his touch.

“I do believe I am going to enjoy myself
immensely, dear Phoebe.” When he kissed her, it took all she had to
not push him away, and her hesitation was clear. Victor pulled away
to look at her, his voice cold and stern when he spoke. “I just
want to make myself clear. If you will not willingly play your
role, I see little difficulty in forcing your hand. Our agreement
included your cooperation, and if you do not comply fully, I’m
afraid it will result in the cancellation of our contract. Am I
making myself clear?”

Phoebe’s jaw tightened but she said nothing.
He grabbed her face in one hand, his grip firm.

“Am I making myself clear?” He spoke through
clenched teeth. “Say it.”

Swallowing her pride, she spat out the
words. “Yes. You’ve made yourself clear.”

He released his grip, his calm demeanor
returning. Without another word, he stripped her of her garments,
taking a bit of her strength with each layer of clothing he
removed. As she stood before him naked, Victor circled her, looking
her up and down. She couldn’t help but close her eyes, her mind
drifting to Seth, his name a mantra in her head.

She flinched at Victor’s breathy voice in
her ear. “I must admit you’re even finer than I’d imagined.” He
pressed his body up against hers from behind, grabbing a fistful of
hair with one hand, the other dipping between her thighs, his mouth
making its way up the side of her neck. She couldn’t help but
squirm to try and get away from his touch, but doing so had her
pressed against his hard cock, straining against the fabric of his
trousers.

He covered her mouth with his as he
continued his assault, his fingers plunging past her defenses,
where the Viridis had made her wet to his touch. She was
embarrassed and mortified that her body was betraying her, and for
the first time cursed the day she developed the herbal.

When he finally let her go, she dropped to
the floor, weak from his assault, with an aching need between her
legs. She stole a glance over her shoulder and saw he was
undressing, leaving her to wonder if her decision had been the
right one to make
.

He grabbed her by the arm, hauling her to
her feet, as she tried to look away from his nakedness. She
swallowed her fear as he pushed her towards the bed and adjusted
her so that she still stood, but with her elbows and upper body
propped on the mattress, her rear exposed.

Phoebe yelped when his leather belt snapped
across her skin, her bottom stinging with pain. “Perhaps I should
have warned you. You see, my dear, I do believe you’ve been taught
little discipline throughout your life, and it’s time you got a
lesson in respect.” He lashed her again and again, as Phoebe buried
her head in the covers. “Of course, you need not subject yourself
to any of this. After all, is that tinkerer of yours really worth
your sacrifice?”

“Yes.” Seth was all she could think of.

“Very well then. Shall we continue?” He
waited, brushing the strap gently over her throbbing cheeks. “Well?
Say it Phoebe. Say ‘yes’.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes.” Her body
clenched as he hit her again, a little lower this time so that he
caught the very top of her thighs and everything in between.

“Are you still sure, Phoebe? Is he truly
worth your suffering?”

She wished he would just shut the hell up
and get on with it, for she would never give him the answer he
sought. Another crack, same location. “Yes!” She spat out the
words.

“I wouldn’t have thought it to look at him.
Is he an extraordinary lover, Phoebe?”

Her mouth and temper got the better of her.
“Better than you could ever dream of being.” The strap hit her so
hard, she fell forward onto the bed, her cheeks throbbing like
someone took a torch to them.

“Still haven’t learned any respect? That’s
perfectly fine, my dear. It’s a long night and I do not tire
easily.” His hand brushed across the swollen curve of her bottom,
first one cheek, then the other, before his fingers found their way
between her legs, where she was now dripping wet. “Well, my dear,
it certainly seems that you’ve enjoyed yourself more than you’ve
let on.”

She could not explain her body’s reaction to
his indignities, and she had never been more mortified in all her
life. His fingers slipped inside her with little difficulty, as she
squeezed her eyes shut, a tear escaping, as she lay there helpless,
her body reacting to his advances. He pinned her to the mattress
with his other hand, the energy inside of her building as he
slipped his fingers in and out, pressing and rubbing her swollen
nub, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. With so much
Viridis coursing through her body, it took every ounce of strength
she had not to cry out.

“Will you tell him of our good times when
this is all over?” Victor teased her, his lips against her ear.
“Will you tell him how you spent at my hand?” With that, he pushed
her over the edge, and the orgasm tore through her. He only
withdrew his fingers when she finally stilled, her heart racing as
small shivers coursed through her body, and tears streamed down her
cheeks.

His hands mercilessly gripped her hips,
lifting her into the middle of the bed so that she was on hands and
knees as he knelt behind her. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” He
patted her aching bottom. “Do not worry yourself, my dear. Things
will only get better.”

Phoebe heard him open the drawer to his
nightstand, but had not the heart to look and see what he was
doing. Once again she thought of Seth, thought of him being freed,
and steeled her resolve anew with another dose of courage.

She felt the tip of his cock slide up
against her, the smell of fragranced oil in the air. And though she
was prepared to feel his hard length, she had not expected what
came next. She let out a sound that was half-whimper, half-scream.
His next thrust buried his cock so far within her that his balls
hit her still throbbing flesh.

“My, my. It’s clear that your betrothed does
not appreciate all you have to offer. Am I right, my dear? For I do
believe this type of coupling is new to you, is it not?”

She could not answer him, her teeth clenched
against the pain. He eased out of her before slowly thrusting back
in, leaving her head dizzy with sensations that overwhelmed her
completely.

“How very nice and tight. Tell me how nice
it is, Phoebe.” When she still did not answer, he pounded into her
again, holding nothing back, as she fought against a scream. “Tell
me, Phoebe,” he breathed as she began to weep. “Say it. Tell me how
nice it is.” Another deep merciless thrust.

Ashamed, she said the words, hoping for some
reprieve. “It’s nice.” Hearing what he wanted, he eased his
pace.

He was forcing her to talk, to hold up her
end of the conversation, so she was forced to stay in the present
rather than escape inside her head, forced to agree to whatever he
dreamed up, or have it all be for naught.

Victor leaned over her, one arm across her
chest to hold her still as he worked her, his other hand now
dipping to the throbbing pulse between her legs. She squirmed,
desperate to get away, but his muscular form kept her pinned to
him.

Thanks to the Viridis, the sensations left
her overcome. Small moans escaped from deep in her throat with each
thrust, each bite, each touch, pushing her back to the edge once
again. She thought of Seth, wondering how he would react to know
her body’s reactions to Victor’s attentions— her body’s
betrayal.

Victor’s thrusts quickened, the energy
building not only for him but for her. When he finally jerked in
his release, she felt herself slipping towards that miserable edge
once more and fought it with every fiber of her being. But it was a
battle she lost, weeping openly as the force of her orgasm shook
her to the very core.

She lay dazed, his heavy body crushing her,
her lungs barely able to catch a breath. He finally rolled off her
and went to the privy to clean up, leaving her with his hot seed
dripping down her leg.

Phoebe could do nothing but lay there,
trapped in her thoughts, teetering on the edge of consciousness,
wondering what else she would have to endure.

She did not have long to wonder.

He rolled her onto her back and climbed on
top of her, parting her legs wide with his knees. Turning her face
so she’d be forced to look at him, Victor slapped her lightly when
her eyes drifted shut, the pain just enough to bring her out of her
dazed stupor and back to the present.

“There, that’s better, is it not? I wouldn’t
want you to miss out on any of the excitement.” But when he kissed
her, the immediacy of having him face-to-face, his body atop hers,
was more than she could endure, despite all she’d already been
through. She struggled to get away, but his lips were hard on hers,
his tongue thrusting into his mouth to take what she would not
offer, his beard scraping her delicate skin

He entered her in one go, his hard length
tearing and bruising. Her struggles were in vain, spurring him on
as he mercilessly thrust into her, time and again, with all his
might. “You’re mine, Phoebe. Every time that worthless tinkerer
touches you, you’ll think of me. Every time he looks at you,
he’ll
think of me— think of me fucking you, taking you,
think of how you spent like never before, and all at my doing. I am
right, am I not?” He laughed. “Yes, I thought so. Say it, my
dearest Phoebe. Tell me that you’re mine. My little whore.”

When she spoke, it was through gritted
teeth. “You can take what you want, you bastard, and I’ll uphold my
end of the bargain, but I will never be yours.
Never!
”

He just laughed at her, a cold, evil laugh
that sent a chill down her spine. “That, my dear, is where you are
gravely mistaken, for the night is still young and you’re mine
already.”

Chapter Sixty

William arrived at Phoebe’s home only to find she
was not there. Martha had been asleep and had not seen Phoebe come
home, what with her room being in the servant’s quarters. He
assured a worried Martha he would send Phoebe home as soon as he
managed to track her down.

Hailing another coach, he gave the driver the
address for Viridis, hoping he would find her there, or in her
brother’s quarters above the club. It was not a terribly long ride,
though it felt like an eternity.

When William excited the coach, he heard voices and
commotion drifting down the stairwell from Gabriel’s quarters, and
took the steps two at a time. The door to the apartment was ajar
and William walked through without knocking. Despite his dealings
with death and bloodshed, the scene unfolding before him hit him
hard. Two doctors were bent over Gabriel’s unconscious form, while
Gavin stood to the side, covered in his friend’s blood. A quick
look around the room told him Phoebe was not present.

“Inspector. I had nae been expecting ye, but I can
tell ye, I’m right happy to see ye. I canna believe this. Phoebe’s
going to be in a right state over it.” Gavin’s face was lined with
worry and concern.

“Have the doctors given any indication to his
condition?” William kept his voice low so as not to disturb the
doctors working.

“He’s lost a fair amount of blood, and hasn’t
remained conscious more than a moment at a time. I’d say it’s
looking dire enough, though the doctors haven’t really taken the
time to say otherwise. They’ll be moving him to one of their homes
to sew the wound shut and tend to him as needed.”

As if on cue, a coachman knocked on the door to say
the carriage had been pulled around to the door and was ready for
them. William watched as they rolled Gabriel onto a thick quilt,
his chest bare but for the thick bandage wrapped around his
shoulder, covering a wound not far from his heart.

“Will you be going with them?” William asked. “There
is something I need to discuss with you.”

“No, I’m afraid the coach willna fit us all, and I
still need to tell poor Phoebe what’s happened. She’s still waiting
to hear why her brother went missing.” He cursed under his breath,
and William knew it would not be an easy conversation to have, made
all the more difficult by the fact that Phoebe herself was missing.
Gavin continued, “I’ll just be seeing him off, and then I’ll have a
moment, if ye dinna mind waiting.”