Uncommon Places, Book 3 in Autumn Club Series

Chapter 10

Bea managed to make it home before the men. She locked her bedroom door to keep them out.

The room was unfamiliar to her. She never slept here. Her place was with Thomas and Damien.

She tore off the dress so that is lay on the floor in a tattered heap. A crimson scrap. Ruined just like everything in her life.

"You are being overly dramatic, Beatrix! Open the fucking door!" She heard Thomas banging and yelling on the other side of her chamber door. Thomas kept going as she dressed in her night clothes and began to pack her trunks for a trip out of London.

Then she heard Damien bellowing from the same spot Thomas once occupied outside the door. "Beatrix! Get out here now!"

His voice made her stop cold in her tracks.

"I won't say it again! Open the fucking door!" He sounded angry. And drunk. There was no way she could face him now.

Something heavy started to beat at the knob. Bea could hear Thomas trying to convince Damien to stop. But Damien wasn't having it. "You forget, Thomas, that woman in there is mine! I own her. Just as much as I own you!"

Bea grabbed the knob and yanked open the door. "You don't own me! What are you doing here anyway? Where is Lady Knightly?" She said the name like it was a curse.

He had the nerve to chuckle. Chuckle! At her!

He stepped toward her and looked incredibly angry. And handsome. And dangerous. But so sexy.

"Lady Knightly is a married cunt that doesn't do anything for me. But you, dear..." he stepped closer. "Are a married cunt that does do something for me. To me. You are mine." He said with a possessive sneer on his full lips.

"I'm not married to you!"

Damien grabbed her by the throat and gently pushed her to the wall. "I think you are mistaken, beautiful. You are my wife! You. Are. Mine. Thomas can't handle a woman like you. Can he?"

He got closer to her ear. "You want a common, dirty man, don't you? A gutter rat? A filthy sailor? Hm?"

Damien bit her ear lightly, and Bea bit back a moan.

"I bet you are so wet for it. My long, fat cock." He slid his free hand around her waist. He took another step so that his body split her legs. He ground his dick into her core, and her head fell back in a moan. "Tell me you don't want this." He pushed harder.

"I-I..."

"Say. It." Damien's hand slipped up to cup her barely covered breast. "Say 'Master, I don't want to fuck you.' Say it!"

"Y-you are-aren't my m-master!" She spit at him.

He laughed. "No? Thomas! Thom-as!" Damien yelled as he pinned her down harder.

"Yes, Damien," Thomas said peaking into the the room.

"Who is the fucking master of this fucking house?!"

"You are, Damien," Thomas said as he glanced at the predicament before him.

"See, princess. Even your daddy says it," he said in her ear. He sang the words in a taunting way. "Now give me what is mine!" He slammed the wall beside her head.

Beatrix looked in his eyes for the first time since he came in. He looked sad and lost. Full of regret and anger. But perhaps not at her. Perhaps he was angry at the same things Bea was angry at - society. A society judging their love. Their lives.

She lifted her hand to his cheek and he leaned into the touch. "Say you are mine, Bea," he said in almost a whisper.

"I'm yours, Damien," she said in hushed tones.

"Say it again," he said a little louder.

"I'm yours, Damien. I'll always be yours," she added to ensure he understood.

"Show me," he said as he ground down on her center. "Lift your shift."

Bea reached down to the hem of her shift and lifted it to her waist. "Un-undo my britches," he growled in her ear. Before they knew it his cock was fully out and hard. Bea couldn't help but stroke him. "F-fuck."

Damien lifted her legs and wrapped them around him. He pushed hard into her pussy. She was ready and needy. "Damien!"

"Call me Master!"

"M-master! Please! Please fuck me," she begged. He began to pump in and out of her. Taking all she was giving. Pushed her against the wall where she had no room to move.

The hand once around her throat held her thighs. He growled out animalistic noises as he claimed her physically. It was as though he was proving something to not only her but to himself.

He turned his head to see Thomas still in the doorway. The older gentleman seemed transfixed on the scene before him. "Is this what you wanted, Tommy? Your wife a slave to a commoner?"

"Y-yes," Thomas sputtered out.

"Yes, what?!" Damien demanded.

"Y-yes, master," Thomas corrected his prior answer.

"Perfect," Damien said to no one and everyone as he continued to fuck Bea against the wall. She was shaking with her usual need. Her sexual desires surpassed any women he had ever taken to bed. "Take me! Fuck!"

With that he was cumming. He didn't pull out. Instead he pulled down Bea by her shoulders so that she was fully seated on his dick.

After he was done, Damien wrapped Bea around his waist and walked her out the door and down the hall to the room the trio shared.

"You don't sleep in there," he said as he plopped her down on the bed. Damien finished taking off his formalwear. He spotted Thomas again lurking by the doorway. "Strip and get in bed. Stop creeping about."

Thomas did as he was told, but as he undressed he explained Bea's desire to leave London as soon as possible. Although they had agreed to travel to the estate after the ball, the plan didn't seem as urgent or as necessary at the time. But now they all needed to escape the city.

"Yes, tomorrow then?" Damien confirmed as he climbed into bed completely naked with the couple.

"Yes, please." Bea said as she curled into Damien's side for comfort and strength. Thomas pet her arm to assure her he was there for her.

As they began to find sleep, Bea ran her fingers over Damien's torso. "I love you," she whispered as he lay there motionless.

He cracked an eye open. "Of course you do, pet," he said with a smirk. "How could you not?"

"Cad!"

"And that's why you love me. Sleep, Angel. Tomorrow we fly the coup."