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(BDSM, Public Submission, Love Story, Threesome)
Copyright 2016 Daisy Rose
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. No part in this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without permission of the author or publisher.
(BDSM, Public Submission, Love Story)
A young woman blinks awake in the middle of the night to find that she wasn't in her room. Then, she realizes she's in the middle of Victorian London.
Lord Theodore Angus is eccentric, powerful, and irrationally possessive. So, when she appears in the middle of his estate, it's only natural that he thinks of her as his property.
"That does not mean I belong to you!"
"Yes. Yes, it does."
"Shit!" I startled myself out of bed with the thought of being late for work. There was a dull thud behind my eyes pleaded me to get more sleep but I forced myself awake. I reached for my alarm clock to shush it only to realize in the deafening silence that it hasn't gone off yet. The ringing was coming from inside my ear, which made no sense.
Still, I heaved a sigh of relief. I wasn't late for work. At least, not yet.
My eyes eased opened with surprising ease. The blinding streetlamp that had been shining into my eyes for the past few weeks wasn't working. Thank god. Maybe one of my neighbors took it into their own hands to get some uninterrupted beauty sleep.
My head ached and everything seemed muffled. Slowly, I surveyed around me. My vision was fuzzy, but the black spots had gone and everything was slowly coming to focus. I waited for the world to stop spinning before turning towards the window. It was still in the middle of the night from the lack of light coming through.
Instead of blazing artificial light, soothing moonlight shone into the room through the open window.
It was a full moon. The outline of the curtains showed as a breeze blew it. The holes in them reminded me yet again that I should be looking for a replacement.
My bedroom was dark, darker than it should be, even without the streetlamps. My housemates should be awake but there was no light coming in from the open door.
I sighed and drew in a deep breath. The room smelled different too - smoky and woody, with an underlying scent of freshly-baked apple pie that reminded me of the bakery down the street.
A soft crackling of ember emanated from the fireplace and I shot up from bed.
We didn't have a fireplace.
I rubbed an ache behind my neck and tried to remember where I was to no avail. "Where am I?" I said uneasily, my voice sounding unfamiliar to myself. My voice felt... softer somehow.
My tongue felt dry, pinned to the roof of my mouth. I scanned the room to find absolutely nothing familiar. There was no laptop, no study desk, no campus bed, no lamp, no cupboard, no- nothing.
I sat up from the velvety sofa I had been sleeping on. I was in front of the fireplace that was crackling as the wind blew in from the open window. The light I had suspected to have originated from the window was actually from the dimming embers in the fireplace. It gave me enough vision to take in the sight of the antique furniture and thick rug that looked like it had been a bear once upon a time.
It was a lovely room, but it wasn't mine.
Rising shakily from the sofa, I walked on unsteady legs towards the window, hoping a view of the outside world would give me a better idea of where I had gotten myself to.
Did I get drunk and follow a guy back to a period-themed hotel? Those were pretty popular. I couldn't remember what I had been doing before waking up, which was worrying.
I swallowed, my mind scrambling to catch up with my eyes. A shiver of alarm rolled icily down my spine when I saw what was outside.
Wagons travelling on a dirt track, driven by people in century-old clothing. The steady procession of horses and mule-drawn carts creaked by slowly. They were dirty-faced, coarse clothed men with too much facial hair.
I heart tried to lodge itself in my throat and I swallowed hard. Wherever - whenever I was, I needed to get back. Maybe this was some sort of elaborate role-playing village.
I frowned as I backed away from the window. The first thing I needed to do was figure out where I was so I could go home. It would help if I remembered how I got myself in the confusing situation in the first place.
"How'd you get in here?" a deep voice broke into my thoughts. It had a thick accent of an Englishman.
I turned to the source of the voice and found myself staring at the man in front of me. He was too good looking to be real.
He was an older man, probably in his mid thirties or early forties. He carried himself with an elegance and poise that made me feel inferior immediately. His short slipped black hair was combed back and unlike the men I had seen outside the window, his facial hair was kept to a neat, short length.
He dressed- well, he was quiet undressed at the moment. His white button up shirt was open, revealing his toned muscles, dripping with water. His black pants hung to his hips seductively.
My eyes went up his torso to this strong, chiseled jaw to his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of blue that where staring at me as though I had done something wrong.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
I gaped at him. "I'm... I'm not sure."
"You're not dressed well enough for a courtesan, so you must be a prostitute," he deduced out loud.
"I am not!" I looked down at myself with bewilderment. I was wearing my pajamas, which, granted, wasn't the best-looking attire I owned, but not nearly revealing enough to be considered scandalous or prostitute-like. They covered everything that needed to be covered.
"Then, what are you doing here?" he asked.
I stared at him and tried to understand what had happened to me. "I don't remember," I said honestly.
"You don't remember?" he sounded disbelieving.
"I'm telling the truth," I said. "I don't know how I got here. I don't even know where I am," I moaned.
"Then you should leave," he said.
He ignored me. He gripped my arm and started to lead me out of the room. I considered fighting him, but he was probably right. I didn't even know where I was. It was highly doubtful I had permission to be in his room.
We were halfway down the stairs when I realized we were still in his home. It was huge.
"Where are you taking me?" I wanted to know. I doubt I would be able to find my way home without help and he did not seem like the type to be particularly charitable.
"To the servants' quarters."
"Why?" I demanded.
His eyebrows rose, silently warning me that I was stepping out of line. I was an intruder in his home, hardly someone worthy of questioning the master of the house.
"To get you proper clothes," he said.
"And then?" I asked, still uncertain of what I should do.
He stopped pulling me towards wherever he was taking me to and turned to me. "You appeared in my room. That makes you my responsibility," he said.
I paused briefly, amazed at how welcoming he was being. He did not seem the type to care much about young damsels in distress.
"You don't have any obligation towards me," I said even though I knew I had nowhere else to go.
"You're here. For now, you're mine," he said.
I didn't react at first, certain that he had said wrong. When he continued staring at me with an expression that told me he was not kidding in the least.
"Just because I'm in your house doesn't mean I belong to you!"
"Yes, my dear. Yes, it does... Unless you have somewhere else better to go?"
"I- I- I don't."
The room where I had been placed in was very small, but not altogether uncomfortable. There was a rough wooden bunk bolted to the wall and a small wooden chair and table in a corner. There was an open window to let the breeze in, but it was too small to crawl out of.
I perched uncomfortable on the soft bed and watched as the maids brought in a bucket with warm water into the room. They were dressed in garments that were long black dressed with white aprons over them.
"Could you tell me where I am, please?" I grabbed one of the women by the arm and asked.
She looked panicked, eyes darting from side to side, as if trying to find an escape.
"I'm not s'pposed to talk to you, ma'am," she whispered.
"Please," I pleaded. "I just want to know where I am."
She looked frightened and I started to feel bad. I let go of her arm.
For a moment, I thought she was going to run out the door. She gulped and stared at me with an expression of concern, as though she suspected there was something seriously wrong with me. Maybe she was right.
Then, in a hushed whisper, she asked, "Don't you know where you are?"
I shook my head, finding silence easier to handle than anything else.
"You're at Lord Theodore's house, ma'am," she said, then ran hastily out the door.
Not quite the answer I was looking for, but that was better than nothing.
Once I was alone, I started peeling my clothes off and wiping myself with the bucket of water they had prepared for me.
It was more than a little disappointing that I had not woken up by the time I had changed into the clothes they had prepared.
To my surprise, they weren't servants' clothes, as I had suspected. Instead, I was given a beautiful and elaborate red gown with a large flare at my hips that made me look more voluptuous than I was. It was a pain getting layer after layer of clothing on, all the while hoping that I was wearing them the right way.
"What're your name?"
For the second time that day, I jumped at the sound of his voice. I had no idea how he had gotten in without making a noise. Lord Theodore was dressed in a black suit with a white undershirt. He looked ready to leave the house, but was probably curious about me and wanted to me another visit before he did.
"My name's Cora," I answered without thinking.
He stared at me for a moment, then accepted my answer.
"And you have no recollection of why you were in my room?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"Do you remember anything?" he asked.
The question triggered a memory in my mind. I had been arguing with someone when it happened.
'When what happened?' a voice whispered.
"Cora?" his voice brought me back to him and I looked up at him, my eyes brimming with unshed tears. I had been holding up well but the idea of being lost, not just in place, but in time, was starting to feel a little too much. I shook my head silently, not trusting my vocal chords to work.
He cleared his throat and looked mildly uncomfortable. "Why don't you take a seat and tell me what happened?"
I stared at the miserable bed in the room and the wooden chair and decided to go for the bed.
Perching myself at the corner of the bed, I waited for him to sit on the chair as I thought of a lie that would seem most plausible. When nothing came up, I went for the truth.
"I don't know what happened," I said honestly. "The last thing I remember was working on my assignments from the university-"
"What university?" he asked swiftly, interrupting me.
"MIT," I said. When he looked confused, I elaborated, "Institute of Technology?"
He shook his head.
"It's a research university in..." I paused at the blank look in his eyes. "America?"
"That explains the accent," he nodded. Then he, frowned and rubbed a hand over his chin thoughtfully. "You're a student?"
"Yes," I nodded. "My second year," I added proudly.
"You seem intelligent and well bred - well fed too," he nodded. "Perhaps you were on some sort of vacation and someone thought you worthy of kidnapping, though why they would abandon you in my quarters is beyond me."
"Kidnapped?!" I gasped.
He blinked, as though suddenly realizing he had been thinking out loud. "It would explain your lack of garments earlier," he said.
"My lack of garments?!"
He ignored me and asked, "Do you have family?"
I shook my head. "No family... no one to miss me when I'm gone." I stared out the window and realized that much was true.
I was an orphan and I've never had much in terms of social skills. Sure, the professors might notice I wasn't in class, but I was doubtful they would do anything about it. It would take a while for people to realize I had actually gone missing. Even then, any attempts at finding me would be half-hearted at best. I wasn't going to be missed.
"Where exactly am I?" I asked.
"You're in London," he said simply.
"What am I doing in London?" I thought out loud. I closed my eyes and summoned air back into my lungs. It was suddenly hard to breathe.
He was in front of me in seconds, furrow of concern on his forehead.
"You've gone very pale," he took my elbow and eased me down onto the bed. "I apologize for worrying you."
I stared at him and drew in a breath. The tip of my tongue wetted my lips as I took in the sight of the man in front of me and wondered what I had done to deserve this.
"I'm all alone," I choked, tears finding its way down the sides of my face.
He brushed his knuckles tenderly along my cheekbone, his warm fingers wiping away my tears.
"That's not true," he said, hair falling into his eyes as he leaned down to look at me. I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything other than how soft his lips would feel on mine.
"Cora, open your eyes," he said. His breath tickled my skin.
I opened my eyes.
"Good. Now breathe," he urged, hand rubbing my cheek slowly. His left hand was on my knee, warm and heavy.
He leaned down and his lips touched mine. The realization that I was letting a complete stranger from god-knows-what century kiss me made me whimper, a desperate unbound noise that I've never heard myself make before. Nothing mattered except for what an incredible kisser he was.
His breath smelled like cinnamon. I was vaguely frightened and more than a little bit lost, but his lips were warm, comforting, and tender against mine. I leaned into the kiss, shuddering as I felt his tongue dance across my lower lip.
I reached up and curled my fingers into his hair and was pleasantly surprised by how soft the strands felt under my fingertips. All this felt too familiar.
I melted into his touch easily. If this was just a dream, I wanted it to last forever. His fingers around the back of my neck and he pushed me to him tightly. His body was warm against mine, fingers trailing down my back to bring me to his hard chest. It didn't matter where we were, or who we were.
This was perfect.
I reached down his leg and found a hardness between them that felt all-too-familiar. I wanted him. The thought struck me like a bag of bricks. I wanted him inside me.
When we pulled apart from each other, there was an intense, dark look in his face. I was almost glad to see that the kiss affected him as much as he affected me.
Taking a deep breath, as if summoning his internal control, he stepped back and hurried out of the door without another word.
"Goodbye to you too," I murmured.
The first indication that he wasn't going to come back anytime soon came at the end of the day, when a woman a little older than myself came in and told me I was free to roam around the house as long as I didn't get in anyone's way. Food will be served either in the dining room or in my room, depending on where I preferred it. Warm bath water will be provided in the mornings and evenings.
She was methodical when giving me the instructions. Her tone was more than a little clipped and bitter about having me in the house. I saw her giving responsibilities around the house and concluded that she must be in charge.
As dawn broke the second day, the younger woman whom I had talked to was the first to break the silence.
"We're um... we're going to go to the market. Would you like to join us?" she asked.
I knew she was being kind by asking, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to accept that I was stuck in the wrong century. I didn't care to explore. I couldn't buy anything without money to pay for it.
A part of me was afraid that they were going to leave me in the market since their Lord did not seem too interested in me.
I never had a chance to respond. "Nina, we're leaving, with or without you," a stern voice called out.
Nina's eyes widened and she apologized hastily before hurrying out.
When the rest of them left, I sighed and tugged at the neck of my dress. I had heard the maids whisper about me through closed doors. The stern one was Leslie. She did not like me. She had come right out and said it. It infuriated her that I was even there, an added responsibility for them to care for.
I wasn't sure, but thought it might have to do with the fact that I had slipped into the house and gotten the attention of their master without even trying.
Maybe I should be helping out around more...
In the next several days, I was to learn that my initial worries about being hated was perfectly on point... And Nina never bothered to ask me if I was keen on joining them again, I and suspected that it was Leslie's doing.