Heart of a slave

Trouble

Siwhetta's mind was racing, she had spent hours in the company of a complete stranger who was insensitive and ungrateful. She had disobeyed her commands and put her life on the line to assist Kee's son and he went on by blabbering and accusing her father. She was furious. She stamped her feet then kicked the ground in frustration. 

She tripped on a pebble and fell hard on her bum. Siwhetta grunted, she looked up at the moonlit sky and threw her hands up in the air. Really! she scoffed as she struggled to stand. Her dress was now soiled. She knew she probably smelt terrible. What was she going to do? Going to the river now would take another full hour and she definitely didn't want her master to know she went out. She began to run until she had reached the back entrance of the kitchen; she was very sweaty. Her hair was an array of coiled curls, unkempt. She knew she probably looked like a crazy woman knowing that her braid was undone. 

She quickly bundled it into one big braid at the nape of her neck and sneaked into the dark, empty kitchen. Oh boy, she thought, dinner was already over but she heard soft chuckling. Peeking inside the dining room she noticed that some persons were still at the table. She saw a beautiful blonde woman laughing herself silly and staring in his lordship's way, mesmerizingly. "Oh, my lord, you are so funny," she chuckled then continued sipping her wine.

Lord Weatherly asked Lady Noelita to speak with her in private. They excused themselves and left the room. Dimitri took the opportunity to stand as well, and bow, so did the blonde who was gazing at him with big blue eyes; she looked as if she were enchanted by him. Siwhetta snorted then quietly went up the dark staircase to his bed-chamber. 

Along the hallway were many torches. She slipped into the room and undressed. There was a tub of rose water. Siwhetta assumed it was placed there for her. Fear gripped her heart. Did he know that she had left? A plate of cold food was also on the table, untouched. She immersed herself in the tub and moaned as she washed her hair and sponged herself, inhaling deeply. She had never been so privileged in her homeland to have fancy baths every evening and really enjoyed this luxury. 

 She opened her eyes, startled, she let out a squeal. Dimitri stood over her, face red with fury. She couldn't recall hearing the door open. He didn't look like he could be talked down. She slowly moved away from him to the far corner of the porcelain tub.

Dimitri, knew that she had disobeyed him; he knew that she had gone for hours. He had purposely sent one of the maid-servants to bring her dinner and search the room. Naomi returned with the news that there was no one there. Again, one hour later, he sent another servant, to prepare a bath. She too, testified that there was absolutely no one in his room. He remained at the dinner table, angry, clenching and unclenching his fists trying his utmost to remain calm, and to entertain. He didn't want to displease his grandmother as she had spent so much effort into making sure that the dinner party was a success. He then sent word to his friend, Nathan, to search for the girl, but Nathan failed to find her anywhere on the property. Now, he glowered, assessing her. 

Fear was clearly evident in her big brown eyes. He looked at her hair in an array of wild, wet curls, falling around her heart-shaped face: she was extremely breath-taking right now, but Dimitri would not let her beauty distract him. He was furious that she dared to disobey him and he wanted to crack her pretty little neck but instead, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her from the tub. He sat on the bed and placed her drenched body across his thighs. Siwhetta yelped and tried to get off her stomach. She knew what he was going to do her, the men in her homeland would beat their women like a child when they disobeyed and she knew this was her fate. She closed her eyes tightly, face twisted into a grimace, waiting anxiously. He smacked her really hard on her butt cheek. The sound echoed through the room. She dreaded the next one. He smacked her again. This time, Siwhetta muffled her cries. It was very painful. He stopped, but didn't let go of her. She struggled to get off her stomach from his thighs. "Where are you coming from, imp?" he asked, his voice was uncompromisingly hard.