Chapter 61
As I made my approach toward Millicent's bedchamber, one of her ever-vigilant night maids, Kathy, hurried toward me.
"Lady Florence!" she cried with enthusiasm. "Oh, my dear girl, are you struggling to find rest this night?"
"Kathy," I murmured with a pitiful imitation of a gentle smile, though inwardly I could have groaned loud enough to shake the heavens. How perfectly idiotic of me to forget that Millicent kept her guards and maids stationed by her door as steadfastly as priests before a shrine. None could be removed unless Her Majesty herself decreed it.
My grand scheme of barging in and striking her awake with a few noble swings of my cane crumbled magnificently before me.
But then Kathy's luminous, foolish face reminded me of something important: the staff, every last one of them, had been praying for my forgiveness of their righteous Duchess.
I was about to conjure some feeble excuse of sleeplessness when a far more wicked notion seized me. To hell with all propriety. Today shall be my last day regardless.
"I had conceived to surprise Her Grace with an act of intimacy, as a means of atoning for my recent display of insolence." The words tumbled from my lips with shameless grace. Kathy's face lit up like a festival lantern.
"Oh, how splendid!" she gushed. "Her Grace has retired for the night, but I am certain she shall be utterly thrilled to receive you."
Thrilled. Yes. No doubt.
She ushered me to the door, cracking it open.
"Go on," she whispered. "I shall stay posted here with the others. We shall not enter unless summoned. I shall even prepare a bath for you after."
A bath, no less. How thoughtful, that I might bathe the blood off my corpse.
I stepped across the threshold and turned back just slightly. "You may hear... noises."
Kathy beamed as though she had orchestrated the union of two star-crossed lovers herself. "Of course, Lady Florence. We shall remain rooted here."
The door clicked softly shut behind me.
And there she lay, bathed in silver moonlight that poured through the towering windows, serene and beautiful as a saint.
When at last I reached the side of the bed, I slipped the dagger into the folds of the bedsheet, then eased myself onto the mattress beside her. My heart thundered a manic beat, threatening to announce my wickedness to the world.
The slightest motion of the bed stirred her from slumber. Her crimson eyes, hazy with sleep, blinked open slowly. For a moment, she looked dazed. Then her gaze found me, and I watched with no small delight as her eyes widened and her lips parted in a breathless gasp. She sat up, the blanket tumbling down her shoulders, and I beheld the faint trembling of her gaze as it rested upon me.
"Florence," her voice was soft, so broken, I could almost taste the sorrow upon it. She looked as though she might shatter beneath her own yearning. I could not stop the smile that curled my lips.
Yes, cry, dear Duchess. Cry long and hard.
I leaned close, near enough to feel the warmth of her breath upon my skin. "Good evening," I whispered sweetly. "I found myself unable to sleep... thus I thought it only right to grace you with my presence."
Her lips quivered, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I have missed you," she whispered. "I have missed you so terribly."
"Your Grace, I have come here because I wished for you to know suffering as I have."
Before she could grasp the full horror of my words, I withdrew a breath's distance, then with great satisfaction, swung my cane against the side of her noble head.
The impact was glorious. Her body tilted sharply, a sharp gasp wrenching from her lips as she clasped the wounded spot with desperate hands. I beamed, feeling the sort of triumph usually reserved for petty scoundrels.
Devilry, once roused, brooks no delay. I reached swiftly into my bodice and withdrew the small pouch. Fishing out a singular pill, I lunged forward and seized a magnificent handful of her golden locks. I tightened my grip and yanked her toward me. Perhaps she was still too dazed, or perhaps she had not yet comprehended that I had descended into the depths of impish cruelty. Either way, she swallowed the pill before reason could catch her.
I allowed her to collapse backward into the bed, watching with unholy glee as she clutched at her throbbing head, her confusion and pain weaving together sweetly.
Soon after, her arms slackened, and she remained curled upon herself, unmoving. Yet her eyes never strayed from mine. They quiver, they glistened, they tore at the soul with their pitiful beauty.
I cast a fleeting glance toward the door, where loyal fools no doubt waited with bright expectation. For their benefit, and with wicked intent, I released a loud, breathy gasp, followed by a low moan.
"Hgh... ah... Your Grace..."
At once, a bloom of red flared across Millicent's pale cheeks, staining her porcelain skin with the color of unguarded desire. Her breath grew quick. The sadness within her eyes dissolved, replaced wholly by yearning.
I bit my bottom lip slowly, sensuously, as though I too were drowning in the same sweet agony that bound her. The movement was a provocation, and oh, how it succeeded. Her eyes drank in every inch of me with starving fervor.
But it was not desire that coursed through my veins. It was pure, exquisite devilry.
I shifted her onto her back and rolled the garment up to her waist. There, proud and unashamed, her cock stood. How gorgeous. The massive beast was already weeping lewdly and twitching.
I smiled, a slow, knowing thing, as I began to remove the cumbersome prison of my gown, piece by agonizing piece. I never allowed my gaze to leave hers. She watched, devoured, as though mere sight might grant her the relief her body so desperately craved.
At last, free of my final garment, I straddled her frame. Her chest rose and fell in frantic cadence.
With a slowness that would shame the most skilled tormentors, I enclosed her cock within both my hands, granting her the faintest of strokes that her entire body trembled beneath me.
Most delicious.
Tears welled in her crimson eyes and spilled freely, the poor Duchess utterly unable to withstand the cruelty of my touch. I leaned in close, the wicked curve of my smile grazing her skin. My lips hovered but an inch above her ear, drinking in the heat of her breath.
"Enjoy," I whispered seductively. "You, my dear, shall take both my first and my last."
At these words, her body shuddered with such anticipation beneath me that I could scarcely suppress a chuckle.
"Though I must confess," my gaze fell to the brazen symbol of her desire, "curse you, I am somewhat apprehensive about the matter of size. It is obscenely excessive. I cannot be certain I shall manage." Yet, my grin deepened, "but I shall endeavor with all my might."
I pressed her tip to my sex and, with grim determination, began to lower myself upon her. The moment her flesh breached mine, searing agony tore through my being. No matter how my body protested, no matter the violence it wrought upon my frame, I would claim her. Every cruel inch. There was no pleasure to be had in it for me, no rapturous bloom of carnal delight. Only the iron will to complete this.
Millicent's face had been seized by a look of overwhelming, almost reverent ecstasy. It was a vision that might have tempted angels to fall.
"How utterly captivating she looks like this," I mused to myself as I forced myself down further, until with a muffled, sordid sound, I took her in entirely. A gasp escaped me. The pain was indescribable, an invasion so deep I thought my very entrails might rebel. I was quickly drenched in sweat. I could see the same sheen upon her as well.
I adjusted my posture, rising but a breath before driving myself back down with a determined, vicious force. Tears streamed freely down my cheeks from the pure physical torment of it. Yet still I pressed on.
At length, I found myself utterly spent, my body trembling on the cusp of collapse, yet Millicent had not found her release. Just as the thought to hasten my scheme stirred within me, her hands gripped my hips with startling strength, pulling me down with finality.
A sharp and broken gasp tore from my throat as fresh tears slid down my cheeks. I felt her finish within me, that scalding, overwhelming flood seeping into my body, marking me with a claim I welcomed.
I looked down upon her with a serene smile.
Yes. My plan. It was time.
Beneath the tangled sheets, my hand moved with deadly purpose. Fingers found the dagger hidden near my leg, and with swift precision, I turned the blade inward toward my abdomen.
In a single, violent motion, I thrust the weapon.
Millicent's eyes widened in horror, but she was too late. She lunged, managing only to divert the blade from its intended mark. Instead of skewering the center of my belly, the dagger plunged into the left side of my waist.
"Florence!" she cried in terror. Her hands scrambled to grasp the blade.
Yet I, fueled by a manic glee, yanked the dagger free, blood spilling between us. Raising it high, I prepared for another strike.
Millicent moved. With a sharp slap, she knocked the weapon from my grip, sending it clattering uselessly across the chamber. In one swift movement, she reversed our positions, pressing me back into the mattress and pinning me there, her body shaking with effort.
Warm blood gushed from the wound, soaking the bed, the air, everything. My life spilled with reckless abandon, and I could only grin, wide and feral, as I felt the strength leech from my limbs.
With what little will remained, I tightened my abdomen viciously, forcing more blood to pour forth. Millicent gasped, horror flooding her features as she hastily withdrew her cock from within me. I would have laughed then, truly, if only breath had permitted it. Instead, I lay back, smiling in wicked satisfaction as she scrambled over me.
"Someone help!" Millicent barked, her voice breaking into desperate command as she pressed her hands firmly against my wound, struggling to stem the tide of crimson.
My smile faltered slightly as the chill of death began to creep along my spine. Still, with trembling fingers, I reached up, covering Millicent's frantic hands with my own. With the last vestiges of my strength, I yanked her hands away from the wound, then dug my fingers mercilessly into my own torn flesh, pulling the wound wider, deeper, ensuring there would be no salvation for me.
Blood poured forth in torrents, warm and obscene.
"Florence!" she gasped again, her voice raw with grief as she desperately pressed her palms back against me.
"No," I whispered, though the sound was little more than a ghost upon my tongue.
Millicent wept openly now. My vision began to dim.
I found it a rather pitiful shame. What a tragedy that the blade had missed her cock. Alas, it seems I shall perish in vain.
Darkness, at last, came to claim me.