Black Lace (Complete)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Chapter Eight

The fresh air, sweet and floral, scented like a garden of roses, was the first to enter my deprived senses. I breathed in—one, two; in, out. When the weather was warmer during spring months, the maids would sometimes open my windows and let in some fresh air. During those times, I would sit by the window and just breathe; allow nature's lungs to fill my own, to let my nose smell more than the scented candles and old tapestries that lined Father's estate.

Then I allowed my eyes to roam our front gardens. In my childhood, the one time I'd escaped the constant hold of my Mother, I had left through one of the servants' doors. The estate's small property was surrounded by towering gates and stone walls. Long and tall oak trees hung over the sky, blocking my view of it. There were no carefully tended shrubberies or gardens where the servants, maids and butlers were. They were an exception.

The front gardens, however, were not.

Vines of ivy and flowers crawled over arches and trees, forming ropes of lush green and periwinkle pink across the pathway leading to the gate. The gate.

The exit. The outside. A place forbidden, a place dangerous.

Though Aziel walked with smooth ease down the pathway, I felt my steps faltering with each beat of my stuttering heart. I held his arm tighter in my own. He cast a sideways glance my way, raising a brow at my pale state.

"I haven't been outside in a while," I explained, as if my behavior needed reason.

"Take deep breaths," Aziel consoled me, closing his own eyes momentarily to take a deep breath. "You smell that? The sweet perfume of periwinkles?"

A timid smile came to my lips. "Yes."

He smiled back, handsome face a figurehead in my mind. He was beautiful, dangerously so. I did not know how he'd slipped into my dreams the night before, but I had no doubt he'd be in them tonight as well.

Our short walk led us to a small wooden stable; three stalls lined its front, behind them majestic horses. I'd never seen a horse before, not in real life. They were so...big.

"Don't be afraid, Romina," Aziel said quietly to me, leaning down once more so Father would not hear him. "I will be here. If you get scared just hold onto me."

"I am not scared." I refuted, narrowing my eyes at the towering beasts, manes brushed and coats shiny. One stamped its hoof and huffed.

Aziel did nothing but smile as he led me to one of the stalls.

"This beauty is Charlie," Alviar the butler said. He opened the stalls and held onto Charlie's lead, patting the side of her nose. "She can carry two." Aziel dragged me forward into the stinky stall. I watched the ground carefully to avoid any suspicious brown smudges. Aziel laughed as he looked down, probably seeing the disgusted look on my face.

"It's just a horse, Romina. Here, let me help you up."

As Alviar helped Father onto one of the other horses—Vila, a beautiful female—Aziel took the pleasure of coming up behind me and placing two very large hands on my waist. I jumped in his hold, feeling a rush of heat flood my stomach.

The man placed his mouth by the nape of my neck, speaking slowly and lowly, almost as if it were his very goal to ruin me. "When I lift you, swing on leg over the horse's side. Hook your feet into the stirrups and point upwards, it'll keep you balanced." He steadied his hands on my waist, and though I knew I should have been concentrating on my legs, dress and the horse, I found it difficult to focus on anything but the alluring man behind me, touching me.

Oh, darling, my mind told me, he will be doing so much more soon.

I heard Father mount his horse with a huff. The steady clunk-clunk of a horse's hooves slowly left the stalls. I heard Father pull on the reigns, bringing his horse to a stop.

"I will not go far, just to the pond or so. Meet me there." With that he was off, and I was left alone with Aziel as Alviar headed into a shed nearby, retrieving a shovel.

"Ready?"

My breath paused as I remembered why I was here: in his arms just so, in his grasp, and out of my own. "Yes," I breathed out, breath catching as his grip tightened, and in one swift motion, he lifted me in the air. I managed to swing my leg around the horse and onto the saddle, despite my skirt hanging in the way. Said skirt lay over the horse's back like a curtain, leaving my legs bare, and the only separation of cunt-to-saddle was a thin layer of cotton underwear.

Before I had time to think, Aziel had himself on the horse behind me, graceful as if he'd done this his entire life. I supposed I didn't truly know the man, so maybe he had.

Two strong thighs encased my hips, and my lower spine was pressed into his sternum. His long arms came around my sides and grasped the reins. His mouth fell to the shell of my ear. I felt every one of his quiet breaths. I felt every expel of air his mouth let loose.

I felt...him. I shifted on the saddle, feeling uncomfortable to have my legs so bare against him.

"Your dress," Aziel said.

I turned in question, immediately regretting the movement when my face came within centimeters of his own. I tried to move back but failed when my back hit one of his outstretched arms, locking me there, close to him. "W-what?" I stuttered.

His hooded eyes turned down and his nimble fingers lowered. My eyes followed their movements as they unhooked part of my dress from an outcropping hook. He lifted it, higher than I would've thought necessary, exposing the bare skin of my hip, lined only by a thin string of underwear. As he released the fabric, his fingers brushed my skin. I tried my very best not to jolt at his touch, but jolt I did.

He cast me a relaxed smile and snapped the reins. "Let's go on then, shall we?"

I closed my lips and set my eyes ahead, trying to ignore the steady heat transferring between his body and mine. I regretted not wearing a thicker dress this morning. I regretted not wearing leggings at the very least.

I regretted this.

"Yes," I said, voice almost a whisper. I felt a smile curl his lips and a noise escape his nose, sending a faint rush of air across the back of my ear.

I shivered, folding into his hold even further. It wasn't cold; as Father had said, the day was warm. But this man had a way of making hot things cold.

And cold things hot.

With a kick to the horse's side, Charlie was off, steadily trotting her way out of the stable. We were off. We were alone.

Each bump of the ride rubbed against the sensitive bud of my core. Each bounce of hoof sends my ass further into Aziel's pelvis, and though horse-back riding was supposed to be a celibate, Christian activity...

I had a feeling this ride would be anything but.

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