Beauty--Remastered Ch. 04

Story Info
The Morning After.
5.3k words
4.81
28.8k
9

Part 4 of the 10 part series

Updated 09/29/2022
Created 08/17/2010
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

My dear readers, I'm SO sorry I haven't updated in...oh goodness, 2 months! Lots of happenings in my life, good and bad, but that's hardly an excuse. I'm working on chapter 5 of Beauty Remastered as hard as I possibly can, while attempting and reattempting to start Piper, which is Joey and Danny's story =) Wish me luck, my loves. I promise, Chapter 5 will be super exciting and wonderful and out soon! Cross my heart. For everybody who commented and voted on the earlier chapters, you are the best ever, and I adore all of you! And thank you for the encouragement, because it's what keeps me going at times. I'd love to hear what you think of Chapter 4...hint hint. <3

-Almostluver

***

Scarlet awoke alone in a cold, dark, unfamiliar room. She reached down to pull the covers up from where they had been shoved down by her feet and realized that her hands were no longer bound. Donovan must have released her before he left the room. Memories raced toward her.

She glanced around, blushing. The heavy curtains were drawn, so the room was still too dark to really study, but she could just make out shadows of furniture in the gloom beyond the bed. There were no lights or candles, and any illumination would have to come from the fireplace once it was lit. What was it with her husband and darkness? She knew he lived in it, but that didn't mean she had to!

At the thought of her absent husband, she shuddered and drew the blanket up to her chin. Last night, the bastard had...she didn't want to think about what he'd done. But the thoughts came anyway.

Thoughts about how, hours after that one time, she'd finally drifted into a fitful, erotically dream-filled sleep -- dreams laced with touches and mouths, tongues and panting breaths -- only to have him wake her with his teeth and tongue teasing her breasts, while his fingers massaged her mound. Again, he'd brought her to the brink, this time let her teeter forever at the absolute edge before stopping to take care of his own needs. The third time, she had sobbed when he at last took his pleasure-giving hands and mouth away. By the time he came at her a fourth time, she was exhausted and too worked up to do more than lie there and accept him. He didn't even let her get close before he stopped and went back to his side of the bed. Perhaps he knew she wouldn't last long.

Scarlet's eyes filled at the memory of how the third time, she'd begged him incoherently through the gag, the promises she'd made to be good. To obey. To do anything and everything he wanted, if he would just let her come. He'd ignored her completely, silently working her up and up, knowing exactly when to stop.

Her tired, aroused body ached from all the memories. He'd been undeniably gentle with her, hadn't even penetrated her with a single long, tapered finger, but all the aches he left unfulfilled had expanded and meshed together and she *needed* to sate it.

Her blush intensified as her hand slid below the covers to hover above her warm, deprived core. She'd only done this once before, in all her eighteen years. And it hadn't been with a set, illicit agenda; she had simply explored, years ago. Now, though, she was going to actually *do* something.

For a moment, she faltered; but her entire body throbbed, as if insisting she continue. Scarlet slowly lowered her hand to slide along her lips. They were slick with her arousal. Her shaking index finger penetrated the damp folds and bumped across her clitoris. She yelped at the burst of pleasure that speared through her belly to join the other stored tendrils he had ignited the night before.

She remembered him focusing his long, agile tongue there for ages, it seemed, the third time. She touched herself there again, biting her lip at the sensations. Her inexperienced touch was less earth shattering than Donovan's, but she could still bring herself to that release. She rubbed that small button gently, and then harder and faster when that wasn't enough. Her hips moved unconsciously, humping against her hand.

Without even thinking about it, she raised her free hand to her bare breasts and pinched her tight nipples gently. A low moan slipped out as the dual feelings took her higher, closer to that release.

And for one glorious moment, she just barely reached it.

"Having fun?" A deep voice from the side of the bed asked suddenly.

Scarlet shrieked and pulled her hands away guiltily. "I-I didn't hear you come in."

He smirked, his teeth bright in the shadows. "I'm not surprised. You were otherwise occupied."

Her anger came back at his soft, sarcastic tone. She pulled the covers around her and scooted to the far side of the bed. God, he was so unfair! So frustrating. Why wouldn't he just let her finish? The sick sadistic ass.

"I just came to let you know that I've hired a seamstress to make you a new wardrobe, seeing as how most of your clothes were unfit. She will be here in two hours."

"I can't go into town to buy some? I'm sure it will be less expensive."

He turned and sauntered to the door. "No, I think not. Money is no object, Annabelle."

That confirmed her suspicion that he was keeping her here. Fear made her pulse race. She was likely to never see anybody other than her husband and the butler again! This wasn't her home; it was a prison.

Her arousal had cooled to a painful almost nothing. She still needed that damn release, but after his interruption, there was no chance in hell she'd try again. For all she knew, Donovan was probably lurking in the hallway outside, just waiting for her to begin again. Was this a part of his 'punishment'? Not letting her come unless he wanted her to? Did the arrogant bastard honestly think he could control her body like that?

Unfortunately, Scarlet held back a sob and rolled to bury her face in the pillow, he *could*.

***

Dominic paced his room at the top of the house, raking his long fingers through his hair repeatedly. Thoughts of Annabelle whirled through his mind. The feel of her soft skin beneath his fingertips. The way her hair smelled -- subtle and spicy, like nutmeg. The soft moans and cries when he licked a path up her stomach. The sweet taste of her skin as he teased at her breasts and down to...

"Fuck!" Donovan collapsed into an armchair in front of the unlit fireplace. Last night had been torture. He wanted so badly to let her go over that edge, to let her tumble with a scream. Maybe her voice would have gone hoarse while she screamed, like it did in the study. Maybe she would have even screamed his name. Just the thought of his name on her luscious bruised lips was enough to turn him to stone.

He palmed his hardening member, groaning with frustration. He'd already gotten himself off twice today -- once when he woke up with Annabelle sleeping fitfully beside him, and not ten minutes ago after he'd accidentally interrupted her pleasuring himself. Added to the three times yesterday, he was well on his way to setting a week's record. Before that, though, he might actually wear himself out. Even if he did, he knew he'd still want her.

He reached to the small table beside his chair and picked up a book. Opening it, his fingers danced across the Braille, effortlessly reading page after page, but he paid no attention to the words his sensitive hands found. His mind instead brought back the way his fingertips had read her body, and coaxed those damnable sounds from her.

Damn her. He hadn't expected to be this attracted to his wife, even after all that time in the past. In all honesty, he hadn't even expected to go as far with her as he did. Their marriage would have been just that, with no feelings or intimacy involved. But after that first kiss...all hell had broken loose.

His body tightened even more when he remembered her warm, frantic rubbing against his leg. He was harder now, after everything they'd done, than he had ever been in his life. He cursed himself for not simply taking her in the study, when he had the chance -- when his hard body was crushed between her dewy thighs, when he felt her wet heat surging against his. He decision not to take her against the wall seemed stupid now. And the promise he'd made would be almost impossible to keep.

Surging to his feet, he began pacing again, refusing to allow his hands anywhere near his pulsing erection. This was ridiculous! He, as a husband, had a right to her body. But now that she knew he couldn't have it without her consent, that right was obsolete. A quiet knock on the closed door pulled him from his angry thoughts and he pulled it open quickly.

Abner studied his master. His dark, unseeing eyes were angry and pained, his mouth set in a familiar furious way. The long, lean body was taught with frustration. The poor boy.

"What is it?" Donovan demanded.

"Your wife requested a walk in the grounds, sir."

"No."

"But, sir," Abner stepped forward. "It isn't right to keep your wife a prisoner in this house."

"It makes no difference whether she's in the house or out, Abner. She is my wife and when I say she stays inside, she stays inside." Donovan growled, flinging himself down into the chair again.

"Sir, if I may --"

"You may not."

Abner did anyway. "You'll never win her if you insist on treating her this way, sir."

"I don't have to 'win' her. You see, that's the funny thing about marriage. She belongs to me."

"Her body, yes. But not her heart."

Donovan scowled and turned away. Even her body wasn't truly his, thanks to that damn promise. "And what would I do with her heart?" Abner didn't answer, and the door clicked shut quietly. Donovan slumped further into the chair, cursing angrily to himself. Abner knew too much. For a few brief moments, he sat still in the chair, and then he jumped to his feet and pulled open the door again. The hall was silent. "Stay with her out there."

"Very good, sir." Abner replied cheerily as the door slammed shut again.

***

"Thank you, Abner," Scarlet gave him a small smile as they slowly circled the huge garden behind the house.

The sky was overcast and looked ready to let loose at any moment, but the sun cut through the clouds every so often and lit up the flowery wonderland that was her new home. She hadn't seen any of the grounds in the short time she'd been here, and now she was almost thinking that maybe staying here -- for the smallest amount of time possible -- wouldn't be so horrible if she got to go out to be in this wonderful space. She hardly even remembered her husband here.

"It's my pleasure, milady," Abner held out his arm like a gentleman and she took it with a soft giggle. His master was a lucky man, that he got this lovely young woman to 'have and to hold.' And from the looks of things last night, they'd be doing a *lot* of holding.

"How long have you been with...him?" She paused when it came time to say *his* name. A delicious warmth shuddered through her body at the mere thought of her horribly attractive husband. How could he affect her so easily, make her want him with everything in her, while she despised him at the same time?

"Oh, I've been with Lord Alford's family before he was born. I practically raised the boy." Alford proclaimed proudly, drawing Scarlet's attention back to the present.

'You could've done a better job!' She thought to herself morosely, turning her face away. Her face had always been very readable, and she didn't want him to see what she was thinking. She didn't even want to know what she was thinking. "This is a lovely garden."

"Thank you, milady! I did most of it. Before the old Lord Alford passed, the lawns were a mess, the garden was overgrown with weeds and the like. When the new Lord Alford took over, he gave me free rein to do whatever I liked. And I liked roses."

"I do too," She leaned over to examine a particularly beautiful specimen. The many petals of the small buds were a pale cream color, and the tips seemed dipped in a deep, blood red paint. "This one is..."

"That's my favorite. Rosa Helena, my own little experiment. I named it after my wife, Helen." Reaching into the bush, he carefully plucked one flower. After vigilantly breaking off every single little thorn, he tucked it behind her ear. "You look like her, you know. Same pale skin and scarlet lips." Abner studied at his young new mistress. "Just like the day I met her."

"What happened to her?"

"She died. Ten years ago." He resumed their walk. "Oh, don't be so downcast about it. It was her time -- she was sick for a long time. But we had our love story and lived it like it deserved. And when it came time to say goodbye, we couldn't regret a single moment of it."

"Will you tell me about it sometime?"

"Of course. You could learn a thing or two about love. The real, true kind. I'll tell you this, milady, when you love someone, all that matters is the seconds you're together. And you feel different -- new, almost. Things you've never felt before race through your body like darts. And when it's love at first sight --"

"I don't believe in love at first sight." Scarlet interrupted. She was flustered by his words, as if he knew exactly what was going on inside her every time she saw her husband.

Abner's eyes twinkled as he turned toward the house. "Yes, milady. I suppose we had better go in. I have to work on dinner."

Scarlet stared sadly up at the house. She wasn't ready to go back into that awful darkness. Her breath caught when she noticed a tall figure looming in one of the windows at the top of the house. She could almost feel that dark, searing gaze on her. Heat blossomed in her cheeks and she quickly followed Abner inside, out of *his* blind sight.

***

Scarlet had no choice but to eat with Donovan. He cornered her in the hall, emerging like a ghost from the shadows as she attempted to find her way back to her -- their -- room. When she refused to follow him, he lifted her over his broad shoulders and carried her, kicking and screaming, into the dining room. Their meal was quiet and tense while she fumed and he let her.

Scarlet shifted in her chair constantly, aware that her groom's eyes were on her. He couldn't see her, but she still felt that somber gaze. Her own eyes drifted around the room, studiously ignoring the man across the table. Like almost every single room in this big house, the room they were eating in was dark and shadowed. Twin candelabras on either sides of the long table provided only minute illumination, and she knew it was probably because of her. Abner didn't serve them throughout the meal -- he brought out their plates at the beginning and let them eat alone together.

"Did you enjoy your walk today?" Donovan spoke suddenly, making Scarlet jump.

"Yes, thank you."

He waited for her to continue, but she didn't say another word. "I see Abner has given you one of his Helenas."

Her head snapped up and around to his, her hand flying to the rose she had left tucked in her hair. How did he know? "I --"

"They have a very distinct scent. Like apples." *Apples and nutmeg -- a tempting mix.* "Would you like more wine?" He poured it before she could reply. She watched his fluid grace, shocked into silence, while he managed to fill her cup perfectly, without spilling a single drop. He smirked knowingly. "My senses are --"

"Better than most," she finished for him, scowling at the glass he offered. She took it, but didn't drink any. "So I've heard."

His smirk disappeared into that familiar frown. "What is your problem, Annabelle?"

"Would you like me to bring out the whole long list or just the ones that pertain directly to you?" She snapped back.

"I know you have problems with being my wife. I don't particularly like being your husband--"

"Oh, I'd say you have the husband part down just fine, if last night was anything to go by!" Scarlet heard the words escaping her mouth, but she knew *she* wasn't saying them! Her face paled and she groped blindly for her glass.

He was quiet for a moment, before he leaned toward her. "Not as well as I'd like. As you would like, I'm sure, Annabelle."

His soft growl sent chills up and down her spine and her hand shook as she reached for her fork again. For several minutes, she stared sightlessly at her full plate. Her appetite had deserted her with his last comment. "I think I'd like to go to bed."

"How coincidental, I was thinking the same thing." His smirk made that heat that had been stewing in her belly since last night flare and she glanced down and away from him again.

She clarified quietly. "I'm tired."

"Not as tired as you could be."

"Please..."

He stood and walked around the table. She shrank back in her chair when he leaned over her. His hand slid behind her head, tilting her face up. "Please what?"

"I want you to make me come." She whispered, losing herself in his dark gaze.

The words felt dirty and foreign and...*right* as they slipped from her dry mouth. She was so aroused, so needy. She didn't care what he did, as long as he let her come. His other hand pulled leisurely at the hem of her dress, sliding it up. Goosebumps erupted across her skin when his fingers lightly trailed across the freshly bared skin. Her thighs parted unconsciously as his burning touch neared her core.

"Please let me come. Please."

"What was that?" He asked. He sounded so far away.

Scarlet's head jerked up, and she stared at the man sitting across the table. Her heart stopped. She was daydreaming? "W-what?"

"You said 'please.' What do you want, Annabelle?" His voice was missing that sexy rasp she had imagined. It didn't matter; he was still arousing without it.

"I'd like to go to sleep. I'm tired." What if she had said those words she was thinking? Would he take her up on them? Probably.

"Of course." He stood and walked around to her chair. Scarlet couldn't resist scooting away from him, like she had in her daydream. Even when he wasn't trying to seduce her, he was sexy. "Let's go."

He offered her his arm and she stared at it for a moment, too long. He scowled and quickly left the room. Scarlet had to run to catch him before he went off along one of the many dark hallways.

Donovan didn't speak to her once they entered their room, and Scarlet watched him pass through to a huge closet she'd discovered that morning. The large bed drew her gaze and she swallowed. After that sizzling daydream, she had no intention of spending another hopeless night in his bed.

Donovan entered the room again. He immediately knew that Scarlet had gone. With a sigh, he walked slowly to the door. He had memorized his room—his house; he knew where every single thing he owned was. Except his new wife.

He could smell her faint scent lingering in the air and he followed it. She smelled...warm. His mouth almost watered. He felt like an animal, stalking her by her unique smell. But it was the only way he could find her. The thought of it was almost arousing, even.

He passed many doors; he could feel them as he went by. Seven closed doors. The eighth was open, only slightly. He entered silently. The room was freezing. Why had she left his warm room for this one? "Are you ready for bed, Annabelle?"

Scarlet stared at him, embarrassed that she was almost completely naked, wearing only her underpants, but realized that he couldn't see her. Still, she clasped her long nightgown to shield herself. How did he find her? She had gone quietly while he was changing.

She took in what he was wearing—not wearing: meaning his shirt. Black pants covered the lower part of his body, and the upper half was bare. She stared at his naked chest. It was broad and muscled and covered in curly, black hair. She wanted to touch him, caress his chest, to test the softness of the hair that spread over his chest and thinned and meandered down in a line to disappear into his pants. She blushed at her thoughts.

12