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Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 14

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “crucifix, passive, and hand.”

Rother and Nathan are finally alone.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 14

The bedroom door closing behind us jolted me. My pulse quickened and I couldn’t stop from straightening my jacket needlessly.

With a turn of a handle along the wall, Rother ignited the gaslight fireplace along with a series of sconces. Pulling a hanging chain closed the window shutters, blocking out the waning daylight, allowing an ambient glow to suffuse the room.

There was no questioning Rother’s intentions. He prowled about the room, his hungry gaze never wavering away from me for long. By law, as the elder member of our marriage, it was his prerogative to decide when to consummate. My purity’s expiration moved closer with each tick of the second hand. Excited and terrified, my heartbeat attempted to rattle out of my chest with its ferocity. In some sad attempt to distract myself, I examined the room.

Rich fabrics, overstuffed cushions and pillows, lush carpet and rugs: everything about the house was comfort to the point of decadence. A bed large enough for a group of men dominated the main wall, mounds of pillows piled above the plump duvet. Everything looked clean and untouched. Samantha’s influence, perhaps? A sumptuous chaise lounge and writing desk filled the spaces not playing home to the requisite wardrobe and side tables. Through a pair of open doors laced with windows, the lavish en suite could be seen.

“All this traveling has left me feeling unclean,” Rother said. “I believe a bath would be in order.”

I shuddered at the innocent suggestion laced with innuendo. “A… an excellent idea. I’ll call for Harston to prepare—”

My words failed me as Rother stepped in close, our chests nearly brushing one another. He stroked along my shoulder and grazed my lapel with his fingertips as he wet his lips.

“You won’t be needing Harston for anything tonight.”

Leashing my panic was a task. My anxiety held me tight like a criminal waiting to be nailed to a crucifix. In Victorian society, a parent typically discussed what their wedded child would face in the bedroom. It was the only appropriate time for intimate education. My parents had glossed over any such instruction, so all my knowledge was based on rumor and gossip, which left me feeling woefully inadequate.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Rother whispered as he slid my jacket off my shoulders. “I want tonight to be something special for us both.”

I stood passive as my husband slowly dismantled my waistcoat, sweeping his fingertips along my sides as he skimmed back the fabric. Unfamiliar surges warmed my skin with each contact. With utter patience, he removed each layer, showing great competence in unfastening the more complicated items within my wardrobe. Rother’s skill seemed matched with his ability to entice and unnerve me. The process to divest a man of his Victorian fashion was time consuming, yet Rother never lost interest or mocked me.

Once stripped of my shirt and left bare chested, he paused. Rother’s breathing deepened as he grazed his knuckles over my exposed skin and nipple. A shiver raced down my spine at the sensation. He trailed his touch down my stomach, following the contours until he dipped his fingers underneath my waistline. With an adept grip, he took apart the clasp of my trousers.

Like the rest of my clothing, they too were added to the growing pile on the floor. Rother continued, dropping down to remove my stockings as well until I stood vulnerable before him, clad only in the chastity belt; the mark of my honor. I was acutely aware how our state of dress was unequal. He had yet to remove any article of his own.

Kneeling before me, Rother reached into his pocket and produced the key. He must have retrieved it from Harston who held it during our time on the airship. It was within my power to remove the belt during our travels, but I’d resisted the temptation. Rother called me a delicious prize, and with all the insanity leading up to this moment, I needed to feel like a gift to be unwrapped.

I froze, anticipation halting any chance of speech. With a simple turn and a quiet snick, the lock disengaged. Rother separated the belt and drew it down my thighs until he could help me step free of the loathsome thing. I gasped at the air touching all of my skin at once; I struggled to resist covering myself. With dreamy eyes, Rother became the only person to ever see me this way since I was an infant. I held my breath, praying for his approval.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. Since the day I stood before the Monarch, I hadn’t believed that word aimed at me. Tonight, it took on new meaning. Rother rose and held out his hand as he shifted backwards, a silent plea to lead me towards the bathtub.

“One moment,” I said. Collecting the stone paperweight from the writing desk, I walked to the discarded belt on the floor. Ignoring my state of undress, I knelt before the hated thing and without a sound, hammered the filthy garment with five years of rage and frustration powering my hand. By the time I tired, the delicate metal and gears were a twisted snarl of useless material. Setting down the paperweight, I stood with what was left of the belt in my hand. Every ounce of metal was flattened into an unrecognizable mass.

A sense of calm blanketed me as I tossed the mangled remnants into the fireplace. Rother watched without a word, waiting.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

“Do you ever plan on putting another one of those on me again?”

“No. You’re far more tempting without it.” The heat behind his statement was not patronizing in the least. It matched the temperature of his stare roaming over my unclothed body. I couldn’t prevent the blush, but there was far less fear behind it.

I stepped forward and took my husband’s offered hand. “I’m ready for my bath now.”