Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

B eth clung to the brute who had come to her rescue and sobbed helplessly. She had heard the sickening punches and kicks he had applied to her seducer, and the man's screams of pain and terror, all the while unable to move from her ignominious position. Her body was held in a rigour mortise of terror and the remnants of the drug Mrs Temple had forced down her throat.

When he pulled down her skirts to preserve her modesty and spoke so gently, her heart leaped with hope. Mention of her sister's name was reassuring and when he scooped her up into his strong arms and carried her out of that house of nightmare she shuddered with relief.

Held securely in his big strong arms, his broad chest under her cheek, her last vestige of control evaporated, and she cried. The sobs bubbling up in a ceaseless flow.

His big hands stroked her back, and he murmured things she couldn't understand. But that didn't seem to matter, because his touch and the deep rumble of his voice in hi s chest was so soothing. The worst of her sobs had begun to abate by the time the cab came to a stop, and she attempted to mop her face with the handkerchief, the kind gentleman had given her.

Seb gave Miss Whittaker the valise to hold and lifting her out of the carriage, he carried her to the door of his apartment. The pavement was still wet, but at least the rain had stopped. The streetlamp gave him enough light to see by. He juggled her in his arms while he opened the lock and carefully stepped inside the dim interior, on the lookout for adventurous kittens, as they often tended to dart out when the door opened. Not this time however, they must all be asleep.

He closed the door and carried her across the room to the screen that separated his bed from the main part of the single room apartment. He set her down gently on the bed. A streak of moonlight through the window, fell on the bed and showed him her face, all highlights and shadow.

She had sobbed all the way home, clinging to him like he was her lifeline, it gave him a warm feeling in his chest. The numbness that usually afflicted him, seemed to be melting fast in this enchanting young lady's presence. She was such a little thing, he felt as if she could break easily under his brutish strength, he felt big and oafish. He winced remembering how he had punished the male who was trying to rape her. Not that he regretted his brutality, just that she had witnessed it.

"Stay here while I light some candles and reignite the fire."

She nodded and shivered convulsively. With a muttered curse, he disguised w ith a cough, he reached for the coverlet, wrapping it round her shoulders. "Here, this will keep you warm for the moment. I shan't be long."

"Thank you," she whispered.

He smiled tenderly, patting her arm, all his protective caring instincts well and truly triggered, and rose to get them some light and warmth. He returned in a few moments to the beside with a branch of candles that he set on the table by the bed. He knelt in front of her, where she sat huddled in the coverlet, her bare feet poking out the bottom of the coverlet and her skirts.

"Your feet must be frozen," he muttered feeling them, and sure enough they were like lumps of ice. Chafing them in his hands, he looked up at her, "I need to get you warm, or you'll take a chill."

"They took my boots," she said, her voice soft and husky. "And all my clothes. I suppose they were afraid I would run away."

He nodded, biting down on the expletive he wanted to utter.

"I was very stupid to go to that house, but I didn't know such places existed. I was so cold and wet and hungry..." her voice trailed off and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Ah don't cry my dear, you're safe now. It wasn't your fault. Mrs Temple and her ilk are evil women who prey on innocents for their own gain." He patted her shoulder awkwardly fighting the impulse to kiss away her tears. Idiot! The last thing she needed was another male mauling her.

He was pretty sure he had been in time to avert the worst, but he had to ask .

"Was I–did that man-are you-?" his throat closed over the words, unable to utter them.

She looked up, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "Did he penetrate me?" Her blunt words made him flinch. "No, he was-" she swallowed as if she felt sick. "Savouring it. Taking my virginity was what he paid for, he meant to make it last." She shuddered, covering her face with her hands. "The things he said..." she whispered through her fingers.

"I'm so sorry little flower," he muttered hoarsely, wishing he had wrung the filthy pervert's neck. He stroked her tangled hair, and she leaned against him, her face buried in his chest, her hands clutching the lapels of his jacket.

"He-he said he wou-would make me bleed and lick it off me!" She shuddered.

He closed his eyes in horror, his hands tightening on her, and he ground his teeth. The fucking filthy scum! "If it's any comfort sweetheart, he's unlikely to do it again. I mashed his balls for him with my boot!"

She coughed, or maybe it was a laugh?

"Is that what you were doing? I could hear him screaming." She raised her face and grinned through her tears. Wiping her face, she sniffed, and he felt in his pocket for a handkerchief and gave it to her.

"Thank you," she blew her nose and wiped her cheeks. "I'm sorry for crying all over you,"

"Don't!" he said fiercely. "Don't apologise for a damned thing! None of this is your fault." He went on. "You are safe now. Mr Lovell said you were to stay with me and not go home, no one will force you to do anything you don't want to ever again."

"Stay with you?" Her eyes widened in surprise, and he flushed crimson.

"Not indefinitely, just until-" he broke off. "Your sister is unwell. When she is recovered, you can go to her and stay at the Tavern."

"Oh. What is wrong with Genevra?"

"She took a chill looking for you."

"Oh no! I should go to her-"

"No, you should stay here and recover." He spoke firmly.

"But if she is ill-".

"The best thing you can do for her is to stay safe. She was very worried about you." Ben had told him about Mrs Tate's arrival at Mr Lovell's house and Mr Lovell's reaction.

"You have been through a terrible ordeal Miss Whittaker; you need to rest. I am charged with taking care of you, let me do my job."

She subsided. "Very well, but you will tell me how Genevra is?"

"Of course."

She nodded and sighed, weariness suddenly showing in her face.

"I'm just so grateful, you came when you did," she said with a convulsive shiver.

"You're cold!" He remembered her frozen feet.

He rose and found some of his stockings. "Here, these will help." He rolled them up her legs, they were too big, but all he had to keep her feet warm. He tried to ignore the soft tender skin of her thighs as his fingers rolled the stockings up, and he tied them off with the ribbon threaded through the top. On him, the s tockings went to his knees, on her, they reached to halfway up her thighs.

"Get under the covers, and I'll fetch a warming pan to warm the sheets." She obeyed, snuggling down under the covers. Returning with the warming pan he ran it over the sheets, careful not to scald her feet.

"You would be more comfortable in a nightgown than that corseted dress, wouldn't you?" he said.

She nodded.

"I don't have a nightgown, but one of my shirts might do?" He pulled out a shirt and held it up, it would reach her knees at least. "Sit up and turn your back, I'll unlace your gown for you," he said, swallowing.

His cock, which had been at half-mast since he glimpsed her privates in the brothel, pulsed, reminding him he was a beast.

His big fingers fumbled with the laces, but he got them loose eventually, exposing the smooth expanse of her back all the way to the base of her spine. Her skin was milky smooth, and the scent of rose water wafted to his nose and brought his stiffening cock to abrupt and painful attention.

God forgive him, he wanted to touch that lovely skin, feel its warmth and softness on his cheek and lips, inhale her scent. He was as bad as that filthy pervert. He said in a strangled voice, "can you manage the rest yourself?"

"Yes, thank you." She turned, holding her loosened gown to her bosom with one hand, "You're very kind. "

"No! Not at all," he said beating a hasty retreat. "I'll make you some tea."

"That would be lovely thank you,"

He walked swiftly away from the screen and straight to the side door out into the yard. Shutting the door softly behind him, he leaned against the wall of the building beside the door and closed his eyes breathing hard through his nose. He was shaking, his thighs vibrating and his groin on fire.

Images chased themselves round his head, her spread legs exposed to the waist, that villainous cur with his hard cock clutched in his fist, so close to ruining her. The soft swell of her small breasts almost overflowing the low neckline of her gown. The curve of her back, the warmth of her thighs, her full lips and her big innocent blue eyes... She was a girl in a woman's body, and he was a villain to be thinking of her so, when she was entrusted to his care.

He swallowed. He said he would make me bleed and lick it off me! The image her words conjured, not the blood, the licking... To lick her sweet little cunny and make her come...

He groaned. Torture! His hips rolled and he gasped, a shaking hand reaching for his falls, fumbling with the buttons. He was base, but he couldn't go back in there and deal with her with a raging cockstand and this level of unslaked desire in his blood. He would go mad trying to keep his desire in check.

She didn't deserve that. She trusted him. So, he must deal with this rapidly and get back in there to look after her. None of this was her fault. None of it.

He spat on his hand and seized his rigid cock, squeezed, stroking firmly. He groaned again, his hips thrusting, grunting with the force of his lust, the tension of the last forty-eight hours building rapidly into a conflagration of tight, hard pleasure so sharp it bordered on painful.

To nuzzle her neck, rub his face in her sweet little breasts, lick her delicious cunny, bury himself balls deep in her tight wet- with a loud groan he thrust and came hard. Spurting his seed outwards onto the ground in front of him, panting and grunting with the effort. Pleasure swirled through his system, releasing the tension and his muscles went slack, his knees threatening to give way.

He staggered, leaning against the wall and panted getting his breath back. Tingles of pleasure ran down his thighs and up his spine. Such a powerful release left him breathless and bereft. He closed his eyes and let the pleasure slowly ebb, bringing peace in its wake.

Finally, he opened his eyes, straightened, tidied himself up with a handkerchief and stuffed his now quiescent cock back in his falls. Perhaps he could now behave like a civilised gentleman and not a ravening beast.

Re-entering the apartment, he put the kettle on the hob and fetched tea pot, leaves, cups, milk and sugar. As if sensing the presence of milk, the kittens emerged, and he was obliged to put out a bowl for them as well.

The clock on the mantelpiece showed seven minutes to midnight, as the kettle boiled, and he added the hot water to the leaves in the pot.

He poked his head round the screen to ask how she liked her tea and found her curled up asleep. He watched her for a few minutes thinking that she was like one of his kitten s. Both trusting and in need of his protection. He sighed, poured himself a cup of tea and sat down to resume reading his book. He fell asleep over it in his chair shortly afterwards. He had been awake for more than twenty-four hours and in a high state of anxiety for most of it.