Owning Arabella by Shirl Anders Read Free Book Online Page A

virgin, Darth could feel it and it thrilled him beyond his comprehension as he tested the barrier with each thrusting of his finger buried inside her. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably over his wrist and her inner muscles clutched his fingers in spasms. Her cunt was tight and quivering. Clutching . It grabbed at his thrusting fingers.
    "Aaaaaa!" she screamed again, jerking in a fever as sharp throbs beat wildly deep inside her and his finger became drenched with hot creamy liquid. Climax. The contraction and release of her vagina around his finger made him gasp. The hot cavern of her ass made him groan as he suckled deeply on her throat. Holding her to him as the surges of pleasure rippled through her young lovely body.
    If there were tears in his eyes, he would deny it. If he trembled, he would never admit as he withdrew his fingers from Arabella's sweet ripe body, and he bit back his own tormented arousal with a new and firmer resolve shaking him. Arabella was his . He owned her.
    Arabella was weak. So limp in the aftermath of what Darth had done to her. Her mind was hazy. Her body fluid and her throat sore from her screams. Still, she could feel Darth holding her. His strength and masculinity warmed her now, where before it had frightened her . . . even while it had excited her and governed her. She tried to make herself think to any purpose. Her wrists were still tied above her head. She was still nude. Owned by Darth. It should frighten her. She knew that it should. Then, Darth moved against her and she remembered that this was only the beginning.
    "Now tell me if you are a virgin." Darth's voice sounded hoarse and deep as Arabella tossed her head, making small whimpering sounds. "So foolishly brave, little dove," he uttered.
    The endearment Darth used wracked Arabella's senses, in stark contrast with the way he had just ravished her body with his fingers and his mouth. The things he had done to her, the pleasure she had felt, left her confused and afraid. She had never been touched by a man's intimate hands before this, she was a virgin, yet she had lived in Jamaica for most of her young life. She had heard things, she had seen things . . . men and women together. Before this she had touched herself between her thighs. Over the past year of her eighteenth birthday, she had been anxious over how often she felt the need to touch herself.
    There had been a torment growing inside her that was never satisfied, until this moment. The yearning and the wanting were still there, but the torment now knew relief. Relief, that came from the powerful hands of a darkly scarred Earl. A man who should terrify her with every piece of common sense that she possessed, yet she was afraid instead, that he might thrill her.
    " Yes ," she finally cried, vulnerable and shaking, more afraid of herself than of him.
    "Yes, you are a virgin?" Darth asked relentless, he knew the answer, yet this was a part of the command. His command over Arabella.
    "Yes, I s-said, yes!" she choked, strangling on the words. "And, you are a beast and I should never have helped you!" The tears came then, born of her capture and enslavement.
    Judas Priest , she was full-fledged crying now and it was not just a few tears, but beginning to be sobs. Darth cursed under his breath. The guilt, which was riding him hard, blossomed into tangles of humiliation. It had been there teasing the back of his emotions. Real men cajoled, teased, flirted, and seduced. Normal men had no need to conquer and dominate. He believed with every piece of his being that Arabella would never willingly embrace him. Nor would she in the future without his omniscient command.
    The conflict was a wicked and depraved one, and the outcome was a forgone conclusion. His lust would rain victorious over his humiliation, brushing it aside as a mere afterthought of emotion, making way for the new, headier sense of lustful male domination. He would never allow Arabella a choice about what she thought about