Wagered

2

***

After dinner, the party retired to the drawing room, and Felicity played several tunes on the harp. Minerva stood in the back, awaiting a good time to escape.

But a giant hand came to rest on her hip as a tall figure warmed her back. She tried to step away, but the fingers flexed and held her still.

"You should never stare at people in public. It is unladylike. You know this, Miss Kendrick," the voice that had haunted her since before dinner spoke in her ear.

"Yes, my lord," Minerva said. "I apologize."

"Your chaperone - Howard's new wife - seemed to be saying things to distress you. What did she say?"

"Nothing, my lord," Minerva said, still looking at the harpist.

"I know you are lying. I do not tolerate liars, Miss Kendrick."

"Sh-she just spoke of her...love life," Minerva offered a partial truth.

"About being her husband's whore?"

Minerva gasped at the word. "No, my lord," hoping she didn't receive unwanted attention.

"Don't act as though you are unaware of how they began their relationship. But to marry your slutty little sex slave seems rather...ignoble of him."

"It was an honorable thing for him to do..."

"Ah, because he fuck her pregnant? Bred the little whore?"

Minerva gasped again at his words. They were crass and an awful way to describe her best friend. "My lord, that is unkind. And you seem to forget I'm a lady."

"A lady?" he scoffed. "Whitby didn't think so. Even your family seems to think..."

Minerva had enough and whirled around. She looked up at his smug face and glowered. "Since I'm not a lady, then don't expect me to 'my lord' you or treat you with the respect your station..."

Minerva found herself pulled into the neighboring room, unlit by candles and quiet as a tomb. Elijah moved like the stealth military man he was, and it unsettled her.

"You won't treat me with respect?" he asked as he pressed her to the closed door, his mouth near her ear and voice in a whisper. "You don't think I deserve it?" His words were cutting like a knife.

"L-let me g-go," she stuttered as he gripped her shoulders.

"And give me orders?" he clicked his tongue. "A rude little girl like you...a girl with slutty friends that enjoy being used by powerful men...a child that thinks she can be rude and let men paw at her without any semblance of a chaperone..."

"Stop," Minerva whispered back, tears welling in her eyes. Because she did feel like that, she knew she was imperfect with ruinous thoughts.

"I don't think I will," Elijah chuckled.

"I-I didn't do anything wrong," Minerva blubbered. "I'll be good."

Her words seemed to trigger a response that changed part of his direction. "Good?"

"Yes, yes. I'll be a g-good girl," Minerva said through tears. She sounded like a small child.

Elijah ran his thumb through the wet trails on her cheeks. "Good girls know their place. They respect their betters and themselves. Do what they are told without question..."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, my lord," she corrected.

"Much better. Now, Minerva..."

"Yes, my lord," she said, enjoying her name coming from his lips. It was a familiarity she was unused to.

He was close in the dark room. The heat from his body and the smell of his cologne made her center coil. She knew he was dangerous for her. But like her friend, she craved something more in life.

"Are you going to be my good girl, Minerva? Or will you require...correction?"

"G-good..." she said without hesitation.

"Hm, I don't think you quite understand," his fingertips dug into her shoulders. "My good girl? Mine."

Penelope's words about Lord D wanting a sex slave entered Minerva's thoughts. Could she somehow - in some way - give herself over completely to another person?

"Yes, my lord. I'll be your good girl."

Elijah chuckled deeply at the words. "You have no idea what you just promised me. Nevertheless, I'm not a nice enough man to let you go."

"May I return to..."

"Of course," he said, releasing her shoulders and stepping away from the door.

Minerva turned to open the door behind her, and as she did, he slammed his hand down on the wood beside her head. "But first. Lift your skirts."

"My lord?"

"I know I was clear. Do it."

Minerva stood with her back to him in the pitch-black room and slowly lifted her skirts until they encircled her waist.

"Spread your legs."

Minerva followed his directions, fear battling her actions.

Then she felt a large hand cup her cotton-covered sex. She was wet with need, and she felt more leak out as he held the fabric closer to her center.

"You are doing so well, my little slut. Feel all that pussy juice dripping into my hand. Your body yearns for what only I can give it. Discipline. Control. And your complete obedience. It needs it. You will beg for it. And this pussy right here....it will cream every fucking time you think of it."

Elijah chuckled darkly as he spread the dampness over her covered folds, causing her knees to shake and her breath to falter.