Chapter 21: Carnal Pleasures

 “You should close your drapes dear,” Abigail said. She sat behind Fallon on the four-poster bed, gently brushing her daughter’s hair.

“Yes, Mother,” Fallon replied. “Though I doubt I will get any sleep, seeing as Father invited the Carrick’s to stay the night.”

Abigail stopped and turned her daughter to face her. ”It would have been unforgivable, for your father to turn guests away in this storm. They will leave early tomorrow morning, I think.”

Fallon cast her eyes down, fearful her mother would see her utter disgust. The more time she spent in Warren’s presence, the more her hatred for him grew. This was what her life was to be. Married to a simpleton. Without his father’s riches, he would be no more than the village idiot.

“Warren will make a fine husband,Fallon. You must simply be the dutiful wife and acquiesce to his will,” Abigail continued. “You must make this sacrifice for your family. Your children will want for nothing in this life.”

“The dutiful wife?” Fallon questioned. “By allowing him to bed me and bear his idiot young?”

Fallon suppressed a smile at her mother’s shocked expression. There would never be children, not with Warren. Four months ago,she had convinced Cook to show her how to prepare a pessary,made of honey and rosin.She had used it, to lose her maidenhead to one of the hands in her father’s stables. Cook had no choice but to help her. She had been stealing from their family for years and Fallon was the only one who knew. If she were to ever tell her parents, the old wretch would lose her tenure and at her age, would rot in the stinking filth of London’s sewers.

She had done it for one simple reason. After her mother told her of a wife’s duty, to submit to her husband and lie there like a statue while he took his pleasure, she wanted to experience firsthand what all the fuss was about.

She had seen Carlisle, the stablehand, leer at her budding bosom from time to time. She was no idiot, and could practically smell his lust for her.

It was so easy, luring him behind the stables and telling him exactly what she wanted. It was a bonus that he was young and handsome, so her first time would not be with some overweight boar.

Her only moment of hesitation came when she first saw his member and wondered how something of its size and girth would fit inside her. Mother told her there would be pain and bleeding, that her blood would flow like a pig’s led to slaughter.

Surprisingly, there was just a slight discomfort as he entered her and before long,she was what her mother so eloquently described as a ‘moaning beast'.

She bucked her hips to his rhythm and as her first release washed over her in a searing wave of heat, she knew there was no chance she could ever be a subservient wife. She enjoyed carnal pleasures, far too much.

Abigail broached the subject no more and planted a soft kiss on her daughter’s forehead. As soon as she was gone, Fallon pulled her thick woolen coat over her nightdress, listening to the rain beat against her windows.

Souniro was in the servant’s quarters, and tonight, she would take her pleasure, with him.

“Wake up, you thieving old hag!”

Cook grumbled something in her sleep as Fallon shook her, to the point of being violent. Damn the old fool. She slept like the dead, now that she was needed.

“Wake up!” Fallon said again, a bit louder than before.

Cook opened her eyes, reeling back into her threadbare pillow as she took in the sight of Fallon hovering over her, like some demon from hell.

“You?” Cook said groggily. “In the middle of the night? Off whoring again?”

Fallon would have smacked the old bat if she didn’t need her.

”Lower your voice, you filthy wretch. I need your help. Where is the Egyptian boy, the one who came with the two sewer rats? “

“You mean your betrothed and his father, Milady?” Cook said in a sing-song voice, mocking Fallon’s own uppercrust accent. “You mean to bed another servant?”

Fallon grimaced, watching Cook raise herself. The bag of bones could hardly move, let alone breathe on her own and she steadfastly refused to die. Nevertheless, she had her uses, such as preparing the pessary. She was a midwife in her younger years and knew exactly what to do, to prevent unwanted pregnancies, or end them.

“What I do with him, is not your concern. Where is he?”

“In the kitchen. There was no room for the strange boy and we gave him a blanket and some pillows. He made his bed next to the furnace.”

“Lazy thief,” Fallon muttered, turning away.

“Whore,” Cook spat in return. “Hope you fall in the furnace!”

Treading as softly as possible to the kitchen, Fallon bristled at the insolence of the ancient cow. But who would help her, if not she? Cook was the only one scared enough of her to never betray her, while the other servants saw her as nothing but an encumbrance. No doubt they were rejoicing at her upcoming nuptials and were secretly elated she was to be married to a beast with all the finesse of a barnyard animal.

By the glow of the dying coals in the furnace, Fallon made out his sleeping form. Souniro. Even his name sounded exotic. He was lying on his back, the blanket pulled down to his waist. He was every bit as muscular as she imagined him to be, and for a moment she contemplated mounting him right where he lay.

As silently as a cat, she made her way to him, bending down and pulling the blanket away from his body. Her hand found what she sought and he stirred in his sleep as she caressed him, feeling him grow at her touch. Her own core pulsated at the thought of him filling her and pleasuring her.

He opened his eyes,gasping in shock as he saw her. “Miss..what are you doing?”

His accent excited her lust even more. She threw her woolen coat to the side, reveling in his shocked expression. She crawled on her hands and knees, straddling him, while he barely resisted her. He knew carnal pleasure as well as she did. She could see his expression change from shock to lust as her lips met his.His arms twined around her body and he crushed her against his chest.

“Tonight,” she whispered,”You belong to me.”