Delia's Debt Read online

  “I trust together we will find someone who will keep our secret and enjoy caring for you as much as I do.”

  “Very well.” She knew arguing with Charles was a fruitless endeavor. Leaning in, she brushed her lips against his. The soft spark grew between them as she shifted closer. Having missed the opportunity on their wedding night, Delia felt much more well rested and ready to please her poppa any way that he asked of her.

  “Regretfully I must get out of bed,” Charles said, giving her one last kiss before slipping off the mattress.

  Delia whimpered in protest, unpleased with the decision for him to get ready for work. The sun began to peek its way through the sheer curtains. He briefly opened his pocket watch, studying the time.

  The girls would be up soon and if Delia was quick enough to dress and scurry across the hall, then she could prevent Alice from waking Emma. It had to be easier dealing with one child for a few hours. Maybe Charles was right and hiring a nanny would be beneficial for everyone in the household.

  * * * * *

  “Mrs. Hayward, there is a guest at the front entrance, the magistrate,” the housemaid said.

  Delia stood from her position on the floor. She had been entertaining Alice, sharing dolls with her and pretending they were heading to the park. Emma had been sound asleep and Delia made no attempt to wake her yet for her studies. It would do Alice good to have some attention bestowed entirely on her. The same for her older sister.

  “Wait here,” she said, keeping Alice contained in the nursery as she closed the double doors behind her on the walk into the hall. At the front entrance stood a gentleman dressed in black with thin graying hair, looking dapper. A pair of spectacles were situated upon his nose. His jaw was sharp and his height short for a man in such high power. His thick black shoes offered a slight wedge to provide him an additional inch or two. Delia stood at his height, staring into his dark brown eyes. “May I help you?” she asked, coming to stand at the door in front of him.

  “Your husband, Charles sent me this letter,” he said, showing Delia the parchment but not handing it over to her. “Is he home?”

  “No.” Delia shook her head, frowning, quite confused by his visit. “He is at work. Shall I tell him you came by?”

  “No need, seeing as how this visit is more for you than him. I cannot pardon your father for his crimes or release him from the prison system. However, the vessel he will be moved to, is not set to sail until two years from today. I do not expect your father to live so long to see the day in the penal colony.”

  What was he trying to tell her? Did they not concern themselves with him spreading consumption among the men on the ship?

  “We have sequestered him to his own private cell in a currently unused portion of the ship. You may visit with him on the first Friday of the month, no more.”

  “Thank you, kind sir.”

  “You shall thank Charles for the favor. He is now in my debt.”

  Delia was not pleased to hear that Charles owed the magistrate but he had done so for her, to make her happy. Though her father was not to be released, at least she would see him when she could. She did not concern herself with catching the wasting disease, though it would be best to keep the children from their grandfather as to protect their health.

  The magistrate headed out through the front door and Delia locked it up behind him. Her heart pattered and her skin glistened with sweat. This was supposed to be good news, relief and happiness she should be feeling, but without a doubt she knew that her father was dying. Consumption was an awful way to go and though the magistrate thought he would not last two more years, Delia knew her father had a strong will to live.

  “Is everything all right Mrs. Hayward?” the housemaid asked.

  Delia did not know how long she had been standing there. Had she heard the entire conversation or had the sound of the door closing brought her to the foyer again? “Yes, thank you.” She chose not to elaborate. This was between her and Charles. She had to see what he had done as good news, though she worried what it might mean for him, owing the magistrate.

  She checked briefly on Alice before walking up the staircase, waking Emma from slumber. It was time for her to start her day so that she might begin her lessons before nine.

  * * * * *

  Schooling Emma was always the easy part. She was a bright young girl with an aptitude for learning. Alice had grown bored after the first hour, which always led to Delia letting her color, or else she would scribble all over her parchment, leaving the lessons unattended. It was not easy managing two young girls on her own without a nanny to attend to Alice’s desire for a snack or any other interruption the girls had concocted as a distraction.

  Charles had returned home late from work, long after the girls had eaten dinner, bathed, and were tucked into bed with a story.

  Delia sat in his study, enjoying the warm musky smell of Charles mixed with the fresh scent of paper. It was heavenly to her, and she flipped through a text or two, not thoroughly entertained by the subjects on business and law, but attempting to pay his job proper attention, if only because it made her feel closer to him.

  The doors to the study opened and Charles popped his head into the room, smiling when he caught sight of her in his chair. “What are you reading?” he asked, coming further into the room.

  “I am just attempting to busy myself,” she confessed. “The magistrate came and paid me a visit this morning, probably on his way into work. When did you have the time to contact him?” There was no way he knew her father had been detained before their wedding. He had seemed as shocked as she had been by the news Edward had given her.

  “I had a courier deliver the letter to him that I wrote after you had fallen to sleep. I did not expect him to see it before this evening. I intended to discuss with you what I had done, before his visit. What did he say?” Charles stood in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb, head tilted slightly to the side as he awaited her response.

  Delia relayed the information that the magistrate had given her before asking him, “Charles, did you promise a favor to the magistrate for his cooperation?”

  “Do not trouble yourself with my debts, Delia. Yours are absolved.” He stepped into the room and reached for her hand, pulling his wife to her feet. “Come.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked, following him out of the study and down the hall. He opened the front door and wordlessly walked her outside into the blanket of night. “Charles?”

  “Look up,” he said, his arm finding her back as he helped steady her as she stared up at the star-filled night.

  “It is beautiful,” she said, not denying him the truth, but she did not see the relevance in why he had walked her outside. She knew the beauty of the stars. Though she did not have the opportunity to engage in gazing at the stars nightly, she did appreciate how exquisite the night sky was, wherever she visited.

  “There are not enough stars to convey how many debts I would willfully owe to make you, my little Lia, happy. You have given me my dreams, and I aim to please you until my last dying breath.”

  His words were more beautiful than the vows they had shared just a day ago. “Promise me, Charles, that day will not be anytime soon.” The mere thought of her own ailing father made her nervous at the realization that life was short. She cared for his girls and did love them, but she was not ready to be their sole guardian.

  “I worry the same for you,” Charles whispered, confessing how he felt. “Visiting your father once a month, it comes with a great risk.”

  She knew the grave danger she could put herself in and would deal with it, but the horrid thought of spreading such a disease to him or his girls would be unforgiveable. What was she to do? How could Delia say goodbye to her father forever? He was her family, even if he had made a mistake that was now proving fatal. When had he contracted consumption? Had he been hiding it from her or had it been quick and sudden, from a customer who entered his shop or a felon in the prison system? D
id it even matter? He was sick and there was no cure. The evidence obvious, the bloody rag that he had pressed to his lips.

  “I do not know what to do,” Delia said, her voice hardly above a whisper. “All you have done, for me to never visit with him again, it was for naught.”

  “You could wear a cloth over your lips and nose to protect from the air you breathe in his presence. We shall not concern ourselves with such affairs that we will deal with together.”

  “Thank you.” She threw her arms around him, her eyes shutting as she rested her head against his chest. Did he have any idea the power he had to make her feel safe? He had protected her from marrying Fred and secured her father two years in a London prison. Being in a gaol may not have sounded pleasant but it was better than being sent to the penal colony. Charles was the finest gentleman and perfect husband. He may have had a few quirks and desires she would have once thought ludicrous, but now she desired to be his little one.

  * * * * *

  Delia led him back into the house after gazing at the stars for awhile. She had lost track of time, her mind solely on his pleasure, wanting to experience bliss with him, as a married couple. They were expected to consummate the marriage and Delia did not want to put it off any longer.

  She kept his hand in hers as she quietly walked up the stairs, the marble floor not nearly quiet enough as she headed into Charles’s bedroom. It was their bedroom now.

  He secured the lock on the door, keeping his children out as she backed up several steps, keeping just out of his reach. “How do you want your little Lia?” she asked. She had found great pleasure in being his little one, as much as he seemed to enjoy making her that way.

  “I want her to hold still,” Charles said, smiling as he stalked across the room and helped Delia undress from the gown she wore during the day. He worked the straps free first, untying the tight ribbons. Each layer he worked diligently to remove, smiling as he stared at her naked form in front of him.

  All embarrassment that she had once harbored had vanished. Charles had proven that he wanted her and no one else. “Climb onto the bed,” he said, pointing at the mattress to her right.

  Delia walked toward the mattress and climbed atop the freshly made bed, getting onto all fours. She half expected what was to come next. He would play with her bottom before giving in to their desires.

  With her back to Charles, she could hear the rustling of clothes as he disrobed and dropped his garments to the floor in a heap. “Tonight the only plug will be me inside of you.”

  Delia swallowed the lump that instantly formed in her throat. She did not say a word, her heart sped up, quicker with anticipation and nerves. Would it hurt? He had been training her bottom for this moment and now it had arrived.

  Charles dipped his fingers between her slick folds, feeling the wetness coat his digits. His touch always aroused her, whether it was intentional or not. Right now, there was no doubt what he planned to do. His index finger circled her clit, the bead swelled under his ministrations, forcing the lips of her cunny to swell like a flower in bloom.

  Delia moved her hips with his fingers, her eyes slipped closed as she reveled in the feeling of arousal as it coursed through her veins and made her heart pump wildly out of control. She tightened her thighs, bringing his hand as close to her as physically possible, until he fulfilled her needs.

  His fingers grazed her wetness but waited before he dipped them inside her warmth, satisfying the craving that she had pulsating inside her quim. He had brought her close to the edge and he toyed with her, not quite letting her find release as a flush spread across her breasts and neck. Her mouth parted, gasping for air, finding it difficult to breathe and the room seemed to grow hotter as sweat coated her skin.

  Charles removed his fingers, gaining a whimper from Delia. “Do not stop,” she said, unpleased that his attention had fallen from her cunny. She wanted to touch him, arouse Charles, and make him pleased, but he was in a poor position for her to enjoy him as he was enjoying her.

  She kept herself propped up but reached around to touch his growing cock. He swatted her hand away. Delia glanced over her shoulder, watching as his fist pumped at the length of his shaft and the first drops of pre-cum glistened on the head.

  He dropped hold of his cock and moved his hands to spread Delia’s bottom cheeks. “Spread your legs further apart.” He swatted her legs apart and she spread them further, stretched beyond capacity on all fours.

  Her eyes slipped shut the moment she felt the swollen head of his cock enter her bottom. Her fists dug at the sheets on the mattress as he filled her in a way she never imagined possible. He was much larger than the plug that had stretched her and been mildly uncomfortable. She did not desire for him to stop or to push him away.

  “More,” she whispered, desiring the surge of arousal to course through her again as it had nearly brought her to the edge.

  Charles grunted as he pushed deeper, thrusting into her bottom, moving in past her tight pink pucker.

  She moaned with the depth and fullness that he made her feel.

  Slowly he withdrew all but the head of his cock before plunging back in.

  Delia gasped, the intensity was strong and her pulse raced as she trembled on all fours. It took every ounce of strength to keep her in the position.

  His hand snaked down between her thighs, caressing her clit as he thrust repeatedly into her bottom.

  Her head hung forward, eyes clasped tight, gasping for air as her senses took her to new heights. Her toes curled and body trembled, struggling to stay upright. With each thrust, she clenched onto his cock, squeezing and pulling him tighter and deeper inside of her bottom. Her quim ached, desiring the same sweet release as he plunged two fingers inside of her cunny, her walls quaked and tightened all around him.

  Delia could feel his cock pulsate in her bottom as he began to spill himself inside of her.

  Trembling, she allowed herself the pleasure of letting go, coming with him as she collapsed onto the mattress, gasping for breath.

  Charles pulled out and slid onto his side, lying beside Delia. “When they talk about consummating the marriage, I am not sure that counted.”

  Delia’s eyelids slowly opened. “What are you proposing?” Her heart would not quell.

  “I must take you here,” he said, his hands finding their way down between the folds of her cunny. “The proper way for a husband and wife.”

  “What of us is ever proper?” Delia asked. She struggled to remain awake, Charles having tired her out.

  “Good point. Then tomorrow,” he said, leaning in pressing a kiss to her lips.

  “I look forward to it.”

  The End

  Allison West

  Allison West is a #1 International Best-Selling Author in BDSM, Sci-Fi, Victorian, and Historical Erotica. She also writes young adult novels under the name Ruth Silver.

  Allison West has been inventing worlds and writing stories for years. Her favorite novels are those that leave a lasting impression, long after the final page is read. You can find more about Allison on Facebook and Twitter.

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