Eternally Seduced(121)

Mary closed her eyes, fingers curling against his shirt.

"What is it, little pearl?" Again, the words came out unbidden but this  time he decided to let it be. He didn't know where the words came from.  All he knew that in his eyes, she was his little pearl, one to be  nurtured and cherished.

Mary shook her head.

He stroked her back. "Tell me."

Again, it was a command and an invitation that she couldn't resist. "Why," she whispered shakily, "are you everywhere?"

The silence that followed was so long and deep Mary was startled when he  answered her just as the car slowed down in front of the entrance of  her dorm.

His voice grim, Rathe answered, "Because right now, I find myself nowhere without you."

She jerked in his lap at his words, and she looked up at him quickly,  her gaze both troubled and questioning as she sought his eyes. "What do  you want from me?"

He did not hesitate to respond, answering in a quiet hard voice, "I want you to be my mistress."





Chapter Five





A mistress is not a wife. And thank fuck she is not, for we would not  enjoy our lover's faithfulness and wickedness in bed if she was so.

A mistress is the source of evil as spoken in the sixth commandment as well as being the result of the ninth.

Mary frowned hard at the research she had so far come up with about  mistresses. Half of the Internet seemed to think of it as a glamorous  job while the other half considered those guilty of it deserving the  death penalty.

A knock sounded on the door, followed by the rattling of her doorknob  outside. She shook her head, knowing that Camille was going to sleep  over again, too drunk to find the keys to her room.

She grabbed her crutches and limped her way to the door. As Mary  unlocked it, a powerful shove thrust the door wide open, and the force  of it threw her back, causing her to fall down. She heard the door slam  close, and a second later, the telltale clicking sound of the door being  locked reached her ears.

Mary looked up.

She started to scream, but it was too late. Bartholomew was on top of  her in a second, making her gasp in pain as his full weight crushed her  body under his. She tried to struggle and get away, but he had always  been fast and underhanded and now, he reacted calmly to her struggles,  pressing his wet hand tighter against her mouth the same time he moved  his leg.

He grinned down at her just before kicking her injured ankle.

She screamed against his hand.

"Shut up, girl, or I'm going to fucking kill you."

The look in his bloodshot eyes was different. That he was drunk wasn't  new to her, but there was something unusual  –  something more  terrifyingly crazy about him right now that Mary knew her only way to  survive this was to keep quiet and figure out a way to outsmart him.

"I can feel you thinking, you slut. You won't escape me now," he  snarled. "Did you think you'll get away with your wantonly desires? Did  you really think I would let you sin and dirty your body before  marriage?" Bartholomew laughed at the confusion in his stepdaughter's  eyes.

"I know you have a man who wants to fuck you, and I know you want him to  fuck you, too." He laughed maniacally. "Rathe Wellesley. That's his  name, right?"

She shook her head frantically.

He slapped her hard, enough for her face to hit the floor. "Your body is  not to be violated by your filthy mind and hands." His eyes glittered  with repugnant desire as they roamed her body, Bartholomew licking his  lips as he did.

It sickened her, every second she laid helpless under him. Her childhood  fears came back like a torrid, lava-hot flood, the memories of the many  beatings she had suffered to keep herself and her mom safe suffocating  her.

Once she had managed to report him to the authorities, and Bartholomew  had used his job as a man of God to turn their heads around and made it  seem that as a former prostitute's daughter, she was only rebelling and  making up stories as a cry of attention.

When they had come home that night, he had not beaten her. Instead, he  had raped Mary's mother in front of her. Next time she said the wrong  thing, Bartholomew had warned her, it would be murder.

"If you scream, I'll find a way to stop you from attending college. You know I can do it, don't you?"

She nodded, once, sick to her stomach because she really did know it was true.

He let go of her mouth.

She tried not to let her voice shake as she whispered, "W-why are you here?"

His smile was kind, and that scared her more. "To do you a favor."

Somehow, she had a feeling she would rather be punished than be favored by her stepfather. "W-what do you mean?"

Bartholomew shoved his fingers into her hair, gripping it tightly. "I  know you're thinking of letting that other man take your virginity."

"No, I---"

He used her hair to control her head and bang it against the floor, hard  enough to knock the breath out of her and make the room spin.         

     



 

"It's not going to happen. I'm your beloved stepfather and I will not  let you sin like that. If it must come to this, and I fear it has, then I  shall sin for you."

Dazed and in pain, it took her more than a few moments to understand what he was planning.

He would sin for her.

He would take her virginity for her sake.

Bartholomew laughed the moment the realization hit her. And then he  began punching her, again and again and again so that she would not have  the strength to fight back once his penis made its way to her sinful  pussy and clean its taint with his pure come.

****

"Turn the car around, Arthur," Rathe said not five minutes after he had  walked Mary to her room, giving the resident head a hundred-dollar bribe  to have her look the other way. It was way past curfew for visitors,  but he was not the kind of man to simply leave a girl on her front door  and not make sure she had gotten in safely.

Attuned to his master's moods, having looked after him since he was a  babe, Arthur asked, "Is something amiss, Your Grace?" But he was already  turning the car around, knowing Rathe was unlikely to change his mind.

It took moments before Rathe answered. "Get Slater on standby."

Arthur's face took on a somber cast at the name Rathe gave him. He made  the call even as he thought furiously of what could be so terribly wrong  that his master needed the urgent aid of the ex-Marine. Perhaps it was  the man lurking in the shadows outside the young girl's dorm? He had  thought it strange and had scared the man away by playing with the car's  lights, training it on his location. Perhaps it had worked too well,  forcing the man to enter the dorm.

"Your Grace---"

Rathe said flatly, "You saw him too, then?"

Arthur answered in the same tone, "Yes. I did."

Like all the sons from noble families, Rathe had served in the army and,  like all long-standing servants of noble families, Arthur had done the  same thing as well. Instincts honed in battle would never be completely  dull, and those instincts were why they had both zeroed in on the  stranger in the dark.

They did not know him, but they did not need to.

That man, whoever he may be, was a threat  –  and he could be an actual threat to Mary Ashton.

There were no signs of the stranger outside the dorm, but that only made  Rathe tenser. It would have been better if he had still been outside,  Rathe thought as he bounded up the steps leading to the front door. At  least it would have meant he had not made his move  –  and Rathe would  then make sure he could never make a move after that.

The resident head, Lucy, rubbed her eyes sleepily at the sight of him. "You again?"

He gave her another hundred-dollar bill.

She took it and promptly closed her eyes, happily falling back to sleep in the armchair of the dorm's lobby.

The hallways were quiet and it was the same with Mary's floor. He tried  her door and found it locked. He knocked softly. No one answered, but he  did hear a thumping sound. He didn't wait a moment more, kicking the  door open.

A fat, balding man was on top of an unconscious Mary, who was lying on  the floor with her face turned away from him. The man was naked from the  waist down and he was holding his dick to her mouth, his fingers on her  nose.

For the first time in years, Rathe lost control.





Chapter Six





Mary had a hard time opening her eyes, feeling like she had been  sleeping for an eternity. When she did, the first thing she realized was  that she was not in her own room. A second later, her mind cleared, and  the memories of Bartholomew's attack exploded in her mind.

She screamed.

"Mary!" Rathe was beside her in a second, hauling her to his arms. "Calm  down," he said hoarsely, futile rage sweeping inside him as he felt her  shaking so hard in his embrace. "You're safe. Nothing happened. You're  safe. You're safe. It's over. I'm here."

The words were said over and over but it took a long time for them to  tear through the veil of pain. Resurfacing from her memories, her wet  unfocused eyes went to him. Rathe. It was Rathe. He was still speaking,  saying the same things. Slowly, she began to understand.