TwicetheNovice, page 2
“Oh no.”
“Then who…?”
“The count’s nephew, Axel von Sommerhalder,” Greta said, as if it were a matter of fact. “He’s quite strict and difficult to please. The last seven bride-elects were…unable to complete the training.”
Seven? Anne gulped. As much as she wanted to put her clothes back on and start immediately back to England, she knew she couldn’t. Nothing remained for her there. No future. And here…
She’d seen the castle and the sumptuous rooms. Here, a future awaited her.
“H-how long does this training last?” Anne asked.
“That also depends,” Greta replied.
“On what?”
“On you,” she said as she helped Anne step out of the bath. “You are now to be oiled and readied for your trainer.”
Anne’s pulse skittered. “Are…are there rules by which he will have to abide?”
“Yes,” Greta said as she bound Anne’s damp hair into a knot at the nape of her neck. “He will explain those rules to you.”
Anne gnawed her bottom lip as Greta took up a bottle and filled her palm with some sort of fragrant oil. Starting with the shoulders, Greta began to massage the oil into Anne’s aching muscles.
She wanted desperately to relax into Greta’s expert touch but that proved impossible. Her mind ran rampant with the fate laid out before her. Axel von Sommerhalder had been almost openly hostile toward her.
“Why did the others leave?” Anne asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.
“As I told you, one left because she refused to be shaved,” Greta said simply as she rubbed the oil on both of Anne’s arms. “Two of the others refused to submit to the training and one…well, she fell in love with the trainer, which is against the rules. He sent her away.”
Anne gasped. That would never happen with her. Not after those nasty glares the man had given her in the courtyard. “I take it the count’s nephew did not return her affection.”
“Not in the least. Besides, it wouldn’t have mattered if he had. He is duty bound to train for the count and the count alone,” Greta told her as she moved down her legs to massage and oil each one. “As soon as she declared herself, she was sent home.”
Something uneasy and indefinable pricked Anne’s conscience. Axel’s brooding face loomed in her thoughts and tangled with the sensation of warm, skilled hands on her body. It occurred to Anne that he might touch her like this. The tingling her musings caused between her legs both alarmed and beguiled her.
Greta moved to the front and began rubbing the oil into Anne’s chest, and then lower, to her breasts. She’d never been touched this way before and she resisted the heady temptation to arch into Greta’s capable hands.
“Won’t this mixture soil my clothes?” Anne asked.
“Until your training is complete, you will wear an instruction garment,” Greta replied, making short work of rubbing the oil on Anne’s abdomen and the front of her legs.
“You will also be required to wear special jewelry but most bride-elects find those easier to tolerate when the trainer applies them.”
Anne did not even venture to guess what type of jewelry she might be asked to wear—but when Greta produced a set of five leather cuffs, Anne shrank.
“What are those?” she asked, her voice high-pitched and hysterical.
“Part of your training wear,” Greta said. “Hold out your wrists.”
Anne shook her head. “You’re not putting those on me.”
Greta shrugged. Disappointment darkened her eyes. “Very well. I will tell the count you have refused and that you wish to be sent home.”
Yes. That is the most prudent thing to do. Anne’s breaths came quick and shallow and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Her heart sank. “No. Wait,” she said. The least she could do would be to try them on. “If…if at any time I cannot tolerate the training, am I free to leave?”
Greta’s face brightened. “Yes. You have only to ask.”
Trembling, Anne offered her hands. She watched as Greta fastened a leather cuff bearing a single metal ring around both of her wrists. After that, Greta slipped identical cuffs around Anne’s ankles and then one around her neck.
Anne fingered the metal ring dangling from the center of the band around her neck. Her blood ran cold imagining what the purpose of the rings could be. And yet, the hint of a shiver traveled up her spine.
After submitting to the cuffs, agreeing to wear the gown seemed easy. Made of fine white linen, the fabric was thin—practically transparent. Greta held it up and Anne stared, shocked. Open down the back with nothing but a narrow ribbon tie at the neck, it appeared to be a long-sleeved robe of some sort. Greta slid it onto Anne’s outstretched arms and then tied the enclosure in the back.
The fabric clung to her oiled skin, outlining every curve, every swell and every crevice. How could she bear to face the count’s nephew clad in this?
“There,” Greta said, admiring her handiwork. She hesitated when her gaze found Anne’s. “My lady, I sincerely hope you can endure this. The count is in desperate need of a woman fit to be countess.”
Anne shook. “I will try my best.”
“Come then,” Greta said. “Your trainer will be ready for you to begin.”
“But I have not eaten,” Anne protested in an attempt to stall her fate. Besides, it wasn’t as if she could have eaten a bite of food—even if she’d been ravenous.
“Your trainer will see to your every need until your instruction is complete.”
Anne burned at the idea of being dependent on that hateful Axel. As Greta led her through the bed chamber, Anne felt as if the whole world suddenly whirled at breakneck speed and there was little she could do to slow it down.
Greta opened a secret door in the wall. Anne’s pulse pounded faster and faster as she followed the servant down a long, narrow hall illuminated sporadically by rush torches. By the time the hallway opened into a dimly lit chamber, Anne knew she would have surely vomited if she’d already eaten. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She searched the room for Axel—her trainer—but he was nowhere to be seen. At least, as far as she could see into the murky shadows. She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness.
“Remove the novice’s gown,” a stern voice boomed from a darkened corner.
Anne gasped.
“You will not be harmed,” Greta whispered as she untied the ribbon at the back of Anne’s neck.
The garment slid down her arms and away until Anne found herself standing stark naked in the center of the room. Her hands flew to cover her breasts and her denuded pubis. And as her eyes grew accustomed to the shadows, she realized the room was filled with odd-looking devices. One shelf stood replete with various wooden and leather—Anne gaped—phalli? The muscles in her thighs tightened. A smooth, leather-covered block sat on the floor in the midst of several metal rings from which chains were linked.
Other chains dangled from the shadowed ceiling. Did he intend to restrain her? If so, for what dread purpose?
Anne intended to find out.
“Raise your arms,” the voice commanded.
Anne jumped, startled. No. She couldn’t bear to be seen like this.
“Raise them!” The command came again.
As she began to lift her arms, Greta caught one of her wrists and fastened a hook to the loop on the cuff so that her arm stretched high above her head.
“What—!” Anne rebelled but Greta quickly snagged the other wrist and bound it to the same hook.
“Remember, you will not be harmed,” she said under her breath before she skittered out of the chamber.
“Wait!” Anne cried but to no avail. The door closed, leaving her bound and naked and at the mercy of a hateful stranger.
Chapter Two
Axel leaned against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. Perspiration beaded on his back and a solitary drop rolled down his spine. He tried to swallow but could not force his throat to work. Despite his weariness at training, he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.
Her black hair had been drawn up and pinned to expose the slender column of her neck. Candlelight gleamed off her freshly anointed skin. Every breath caused her full breasts to shimmer. Her nipples had grown taut and stood out, ripe for the tasting. Her narrow waist blossomed into voluptuous hips which framed her recently shorn pubis.
He inhaled and reminded himself the punishment for violating a novice was death.
Death.
But looking at her, he wondered if even the prospect of losing his life would stop him. His uncle was a cruel, cruel man to have subjected him to training this creature.
He clenched his jaw, steeling himself as he crossed the floor to where she stood, arms bound high above her head.
“What do you intend to do to me?” she blurted.
Everything. “Silence, Novice!” he ordered. “Tonight, you will be presented at court and you will bear yourself with dignity and grace.”
“But—” she began but a smart slap to her bum stopped her short.
“If you argue with me, you will be immediately punished.” He clenched his fist in an attempt to dispel the velvety feel of her skin from his palm.
Her eyes narrowed and she burned a stare into him. Good. He needed her to hate him. “Nod your head if you understand,” he told her.
She glared for a steep second before she finally nodded once. Axel struggled to keep from lowering his gaze to her luscious attributes—attributes with which he would soon become frustratingly familiar.
“There are rules,” he said, noticing the rough timbre of his own voice. “Rules which you will learn and which you will obey.”
She pursed her lush lips and Axel’s gaze lingered there longer than he should have allowed. He half-wished she would retort again so he could spank her lovely little ass. Only this time, he would rub out the sting and then check to see if she’d grown wet between the legs for him. Fool! What am I considering? He shook his head as if he could drive out the unwanted thoughts.
“You may leave at any time during your training by telling me you want to go home. Is that clear?” he asked. Part of him wished she would say those words this very minute. How would he be able to withstand this? The others had been mere slips of girls on the verge of womanhood. They’d been whiney—or worse, lascivious. Some had not made it past the servant’s preparations. Such women did not make good wives.
“To be the wife of a von Sommerhalder you must learn passion. You must learn how to demand others meet your desires. You must learn to bear yourself with the decorum befitting a noblewoman.” He circled her with predatory slowness. “You will learn everything about your body. Everything. And I will teach you how to pleasure a man.”
Anne snorted. “And what does the count think about having his future wife bedded before he has wedded her?” she snapped.
Heated blood infused Axel’s face. “I will not bed you, Novice. Not ever.”
“My name is Anne.”
His breath froze in his lungs. Anne. “For the purposes of your training, you will be called novice. And you will refer to me as master.” The distance between them had to be kept at any cost.
“I will work with you to discover what pleases you. I will learn your skills and help you develop them so that you might please the count,” Axel explained.
Her eyes rounded with worry. “But why this? Why strip me naked and bind me?”
“Because there is power in surrender. I have stolen your control and in doing so, have given you permission to experience all your body has to offer.”
She seemed to ponder what he’d told her. “I-I don’t understand,” she stammered after a few moments of hesitation.
“You will,” he said. The overwhelming, conflicting urge to soothe her, to punish her for driving him insane with desire and then, in turn, comfort her with his kisses, gripped him. The time for her to attend the welcome banquet drew near. He closed his eyes briefly, bracing himself to drape her in her training jewels.
In silence, he retrieved a small table, a jar of lubricant and the jewelry box. So many of them had not submitted to the jewels. He wondered if Anne would. Conflicting thoughts tore at him as he opened the case. Inside lay some of the most exquisite baubles in Bavaria, all fashioned into torturous devices. Nipple clamps. Anal plugs. Clitoral vices. How would she react?
His own cock lurched in anticipation. He breathed deeply in an attempt to concentrate.
Anne’s eyes enlarged as she stared at the contents of the jewelry box.
He fingered one of the clamps. “Are you ready to begin?”
Her lips parted but she remained tacit.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You must tell me to begin, Novice.”
A ragged breath shuddered out of her lungs. Axel crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you ready or do you wish to return to your homeland?”
She gulped. “I-I’m ready,” she said, her voice but a faltering whisper.
He took the step that closed the distance between them and then cupped one of her breasts in his palm. She jolted. “What—?”
“Shh,” he said. “Close your eyes, Novice. Feel what I am doing to you.”
She blinked several times before finally surrendering and closing her eyes. Her body grew taut. She didn’t even breathe as Axel began gently kneading her breast, slipping his hand back to squeeze and tug her nipple. A whimper escaped her throat when he bent and kissed the distended bud. She could have taken a step backward. She could have shifted away. But she did neither. Instead, she stood as still as a sentry.
He glanced at her face. Her forehead furrowed in fearful desire. Her top teeth pressed hard into her bottom lip. Her eyes squeezed shut. The nipple was hard enough. He should stop and apply the clamp but the sensual feel of her oiled skin and the hard little bud between his lips coaxed him to continue.
Some dark part of him wanted to hear her moan. He wanted to hear her call his name and give voice to impassioned pleas for more. But that wasn’t part of the training.
With a growl, he released her, snatched one of the clamps from the case and popped it onto her nipple. Her eyes snapped open and at the same time, she cried out.
She writhed. Her shaking set the heavy emerald suspended from her breast in motion. The jewel glimmered enticingly in the low light.
“That hurts,” she protested, gyrating as if she could shake free of the clamp.
Axel’s cock throbbed in his tight breeches. “Be still, Novice.”
When she didn’t cease moving, he seized the other breast. Their gazes locked as he tweaked the nipple so that it hardened in spite of her. “Please, have mercy,” she moaned. “Please.”
This was what he wanted. To watch her squirm and plead. To hear from her that she wanted him to stop this—that she wanted to leave this place.
But she did not. Instead, she stilled as he applied a second clamp. Wincing, she let out a little grunt as he tightened the device in place.
“You will wear the jewels any time you appear in public or any time that it should please me,” he informed her.
She said nothing—until he reached between her legs.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Do you wish me to stop?”
She debated and then shook her head in the negative.
He reached behind her with one hand to grip her bottom, holding her still. With the other hand, he began to massage her clitoris. Cream coated his fingers. A smile played at one corner of his mouth. “This little blossom will grow hard as well.”
His cock continued to protest against the confines of his breeches as she mewled through tightly closed lips. Her pained expression melted into one of bliss as he pinched and tugged at her nether lips. While she still basked in the pleasure of his touch, he slipped the pincers of the vice over the swollen hillock. This time she struggled, squeezing her thighs together and stepping up and down as if she could dislodge the device.
“Have you had enough yet, Novice? Are you ready to go home?” His voice sounded far harsher than he’d intended.
“Damn you,” she hissed.
He caught her face under her chin and lifted it so that she looked him in the eye. “Do you want to go home?”
Her eyes smoldered. This close, he could see that they were a deep brown. Almost black.
“No. No, damn you,” she retorted.
He chuckled. “Very well.”
With deliberate, wicked slowness, he removed the lid from the jar of lubricant.
“What’s the purpose of that?” she demanded as he liberally coated two of his fingers.
He lifted the silver anal plug out of the case. Shaped like a large egg, the plug boasted a tail of jewel-encrusted silver chains.
“Please…” she muttered as he moved behind her. “Please, not that.”
“Spread your legs for me.”
“I am a maiden, still intact,” she protested.
He grinned. “Your maidenhead is not in danger.”
She twisted, trying to look back over her shoulder. “Don’t do this. Not there. In the name of common decency…”
“Tell me to put this plug in your hole.”
“I will not!”
“Tell me to put the plug in your hole or tell me you are ready to quit.”
She glared.
“I will take silence as a declaration you are ready to stop,” he said.
“No!” she wailed. “I mean…”
Her indecision made her far more lovely—and dangerous. Please, Anne. Tell me to stop. Leave. Don’t become one of them.
She wet her lips with her tongue. “Put…I will…I will wear the plug,” she managed with great difficulty.
Axel wanted to cast the thing aside and cram his cock up that hole but he fought the desire. “Spread your legs,” he said. And then he had a fraction of mercy on her. “I promise you that it will not hurt.”
Turning her face away, she spread her legs. Axel stepped so close her body countered his from head to toe. Bracing the hand holding the plug on her belly, he slid his grease-coated fingers between her nether cheeks.
