Her Lord and Master *Rated-R*

Downton Abbey Fan Fiction

Occurs a few weeks after Lavinia’s death…

Sir Richard Carlisle stared out his window from his office in London. He drank his brandy, clutching the snifter tightly. He had a thriving newspaper, one of the best in all of London and possibly England, as well as enough money to spend on whatever he liked. He was powerful and both respected and feared, but the one thing he longed for above everything was the love his fiancée, Lady Mary Crawley.

He rested his forehead against the window. His entire body stiffened from his hard cock and his swollen bollocks, as was the case whenever he thought of Mary. Before the end of the summer was over, she would carry his name and would be installed in his bed, her body available for him to plunder. He would give her pleasure in return and would gladly get down on his knees for one of her smiles or something as innocent as a kiss on his cheek. But she never smiled at him, and any kiss he wanted, he took. He had the right to take whatever he wanted from Mary. He saved her good name and her family’s from ruin all because of a careless indiscretion on her part. He could forgive her for that. He most of all was far from innocent, but what he couldn’t forgive was her undying devotion to that milquetoast crippled cousin of her’s, Matthew Crawley.

Now Matthew had miraculously recovered from his war wounds and was free to claim the affections of his Mary again. Damn Lavinia for dying! If she had lived, Matthew would be married to her and Mary safe from his regard. He had watched carefully, as he always did when he was with Mary, and how she watched Matthew as he suffered over the loss of his fiancé.

He would put a stop to this before it went too far. Mary was his and no one was going to take her from him.

Stomping away from the window, he sat in his chair behind his desk and opened a drawer. He took out two red, silk scarves and pressed it against his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, his bullocks thick with his seed, the same seed he would fill Mary with and create a life, a child they would have together to cement their union.

A slow smile filled his face and he unbuttoned his trousers. Using the scarves, he wrapped them around his cock and fisted his meaty flesh, imaging he was inside Mary and her velvet lining encased him. His breathing grew ragged as he pumped his engorged cock, whispering Mary’s name.

Back and forth he worked over himself until that familiar tingle in his lower back grew and spread across his legs. Holding back a shout, he spent into the scarves, his seed drenching the material.

Shuddering, he rested his head back against the seat and opened his eyes, bringing the room into focus.

He didn’t bother to clean the scarves. They served his purpose for the time being.

The next time he put the scarves to use would be when he tied Mary’s wrists to the bedposts and showed her that he was her lord and master, not Matthew. She would call him Sir as she screamed out her pleasure while he pumped in between her milky white thighs. He would brand her with his mouth and teeth against her throat and then her breast, where she would scream for more from him.

He slipped the scarves back into his desk drawer, and taking a deep sip of his brandy, he lifted up the receiver of his phone and placed a call to the Crowley residence. He would ask Mary to come with him to Hacksby Park for one final inspection before he purchased the estate.

What he had planned for her there would lead to their final, unbreakable union.

***
Richard allowed Mary to walk ahead of him, her heels tapping across the marble floor. She hadn’t been pleased when he asked her to come with him, but she didn’t refuse. He made certain to remain charming and complimented her on her lacy, stripped dress, giving her a chase kiss in front of her parents and Matthew who watched with deep sadness in his eyes. Whether it was because of Lavinia’s death or knowing Mary was lost to him, he didn’t care. All that matter was stealing Mary away for her seduction.

“Sir Richard, I don’t understand why we have to come a second time to inspect Hacksby. I’ve seen all that I have to.” Mary circled the huge foyer, staring up at the ceiling in wonder. Soon she would look at him the same way as she lay panting under him.

He fingered the scarves hidden in his jacket pocket and slowly walked over to her. His footsteps didn’t make any noise, his stealth movements with a direct aim.

When Mary turned and faced him, she jumped, holding a hand to her chest.

“Do I make you nervous, Mary?” he extended the vowels of her name, savoring each syllable.

Mary’s eyes widened for a split second but then dropped back to their typical lackluster appearance. She lifted her chin and looked him full in the face. He started to sway in close, with the intent to press his mouth to hers, but didn’t. He waited, biding his time until he had her bound to the bed in the master bedroom.

He held out his arm. “If you will accompany upstairs, I have a surprise to show you in one of the bedrooms.”

Mary eyed his arm as if it was poisonous, but took it, her hand flexing as she tightened her hold. “A surprise?”

“Yes, Mary. This surprise will make you gasp in delight.”

Mary gave him a confused look but nodded for him to escort her up the long winding marble staircase.

He purposely took his time, to relish for what was to come. He watched her from the corner of his eye, his mouth in a straight line, his face betraying nothing. Soon enough he would have much to smile about.

They walked down the long hall at a sedate pace. When Mary halted suddenly, he pulled her along, imprisoning her hand in his.

“Which room are you taking me to?” Mary asked, uncertainty filling her voice.

“The master bedroom,” Richard replied smoothly.

Mary began to speak again, but he placed the pad of his finger against her mouth. “Hush, all will be well. You are safe with me.” He then reached behind him and opened the door he had stopped in front of.

Mary didn’t enter. She let go of his arm and rubbed her own as if she was chilled. He didn’t comment and held the door open, motioning for her to enter with his chin.

She finally brushed past him. He swallowed, the front of his trousers tenting from his swollen cock.

Mary stood with her arms at her side. He closed the door quietly.

“It’s a very big bed,” Mary commented, eyeing the large, four poster bed covered in ivory white silk.

She didn’t walk over and inspect it like Richard was expecting her to. This annoyed him and he came up behind her and grabbed hold of her by the arms.

Mary tugged away, but he continued holding her still. He bent his face down and sniffed her hair. Her shoulders lifted and she moved her head forward to escape his touch. His fingers dug into her flesh.

“Sir Richard, release me this very instant. I’m not your wife yet.”

He turned her around, and when he pulled her up against his chest, she pushed at him. He took hold of both her wrists and held them in one hand while he reached into his pocket and took out his scarves.

“Do you know what these will be used for, Mary?” Richard asked, waving them in the air.

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Let me go now or—”

“Or what?” Richard grabbed her by the back of her head. Fear floated in her eyes. Her throat moved and her breathing grew stilted. And when he lifted his hips against her, she shook her head in denial.

“I’m tired of these games you’ve played with me. It’s time I take what is owed me.”

“Owed you? Isn’t enough I’m going to be your wife?” Mary asked in a hoarse whisper and twisted away from him.

His hand slid down her back and curved around her waist while he backed her toward the bed. Mary dug her heels into the floor to no avail, and when her back met the wooden post of the bed, he shoved his face against her, his mouth an inch away from her panting one.

“I can feel your nipples through your bodice and the growing heat between your legs. You want me as much as I want you.”

Mary shook her head. “No-no, you’re scaring me.”

“Shh…there is nothing to be scared of.” Richard brushed his mouth over her top lip. She trembled, her mouth quivering.

Her tongue came out and touched his bottom lip. He groaned. “You minx, you did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t mean to. Please, don’t do this.”

“Do what, Mary? Give you untold pleasures you never had? You couldn’t have climaxed with Mr. Pamuk. But with me you will.”

Mary turned to the side and jerked out of his hold. He chuckled and his arms snaked further around her until her back met his front. His hands clasped hers, the scarves covering their fingers.

His teeth tugged on her earlobe and he rocked his crotch against her buttocks. A wheeze came from Mary and she dipped her head forward. It gave him the opportunity to kiss her nape.

“Before we leave here today, I will erase Mr. Pamuk from your memory, including Matthew.” His lips whispered across her soft skin, the subtle scent of soap and flowers rushing through his nostrils.

Mary struggled in his arms. “You have no right to say Matthew—”

Richard shook her, rage taking over his passion. He thrust her away from him and she fell back on the bed, landing on her stomach. She crawled on all fours away from him and he grabbed hold of her ankles sliding her back toward him.

Mary grabbed hold of the sheets, kicking and yelling for him to stop. Her skirt rose up to the back of her thighs, showing her stockings and garters. Soon he would remove them with his teeth until she was naked and spread open for him to enjoy.

Without saying another word, he dragged her on her back and took hold of her wrists, overpowering Mary while tears fell from her cheeks. She ceased her struggling and lay under him, her eyes closed as he took both her arms and tied them to the bed posts.

He straddled her hips, watching as her chest heaved and her nipples grew into points. A growl left his throat and her eyes shot open. Her mouth trembled and she blinked, her eyes filled with not only trepidation but bright with something else. Her face was flushed along with her neck and chest.

He cupped her cheek and swiped away her tears. She watched him, drawing in deep breaths. And when he dipped his head and touched his mouth to hers, she remained still, releasing a soft squeal when his tongue licked her bottom lip. He sucked and nibbled while his fingers unbuttoned her blouse.

She squirmed and wiggled under him causing him to thrust his hips against her.

“Richard…” she whispered on a moan and turned her face away.

He lifted his face and spread open Mary’s blouse. She wore a pale, pink camisole over a nude colored brassière. He cupped her breast and she whispered his name again.

“You will call me Sir and acknowledge me as your lord and master.”

Mary’s foreboding changed into anger. “You may be my lord and master of my body, but never my heart. That belongs to Matthew forever!”

Red filled Richard’s vision and he smashed his mouth over Mary’s. She bit down hard on his lip and he jerked away. He let out a dark laugh and tore open her camisole and ripped apart her brassière. She opened her mouth and let out a scream he muffled by slapping his palm over her mouth. Her legs pushed under him and he sat down further on them, making her immobile.

His face hovered over Mary’s breast and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She screamed against his hand and yanked her chest away. He followed her movement, keeping his mouth over her flesh, ignoring her muffled cries.

He sucked down hard, rocking his cock in between her legs. Mary squirmed underneath him. He squeezed her hip in a warning. She didn’t obey, moving left and then right to escape his hold.
He laughed and removed his hand from her mouth, plucking her other breast and rubbing her nipple with his thumb. Mary arched and whimpers came from her mouth following a husky groan.

“Mine. You are mine,” he vowed, moving his face down, placing kisses on her skin. Goosebumps rose on her stomach, and he smiled, proud he made them appear.

Mary called out his name and he bit down on the skin around her bellybutton. “You will call me Sir,” he growled.

“Never!” Mary shouted and lifted her knees up, her feet laying purchase on his shoulders.

He grabbed hold of her ankles, and with both hands, roughly pushed apart her legs. He sniffed and sighed. Mary’s feminine musk made his cock twitch. He dipped his head in between her thighs, running his mouth across her drawers that hid her lady’s pearl and her venus mound he had to taste.

Her drawers were torn away just like her brassiere, and he ran his hand across her woman’s pelt, her dark hairy bush that matched the same color of her hair on her head. His nail traced her slit and she jolted, her thighs quivering violently.

“What are you planning on doing?” Mary lifted her head. She stated at him dazed and aroused.

“I’m going to stick my tongue deep in your honey pot and make you mine with my mouth, fingers and then my cock,” he explained, and with a wicked grin, gave her pussy a kiss.

Mary felt back on the bed, and Richard push his palms under her ass to raise her to his mouth. He brushed his nose over her damp curls and flicked out his tongue. His mouth latched over her core and his tongue speared her slick feminine flesh.

“Richard!” Mary screamed out, rocking against his mouth, her feminine juices coating his tongue.

So sweet! Richard growled and sucked faster, his tongue wiggling over every inch of Mary’s pussy, reveling in the way she arched against him and cried out his name in mercy.

“Call me Sir,” he spoke against her cunt, biting down on one fleshy lip and then soothing the sting with the sweep of his tongue.

She whimpered and sobbed, thrashing against the mattress.

Richard’s arousal grew and he humped the mattress as he gave his lady indescribable pleasure. She gyrated against his maundering mouth, screeching and sobbing until she quieted down, rocking and jerking under his deep licks across her swollen flesh.

With one last strangled cry, Mary flew apart and lifted up from the bed. Richard moved back and thrust open her legs while he unfastened the front of his trousers. His enflamed cock fell out and his head fell back on his shoulders, taking deep breaths to control himself before he climaxed.

Mary moaned, her arm over her face as her hips lifted. He pulled her roughly up by her arms and quickly untied the scarves holding her prisoner. He then clutched the back of her head, seating her on his lap. His mouth came across hers and jabbed his tongue in deep into the warm cavern of her mouth.
Her tongue tangled around his, sucking and licking as if he was a treat she couldn’t deny herself.

He smiled, and digging his finger into her neck, he rose up and slid his cock into her creamy center. Mary stiffened and yelped, wiggling and shifting in his hold. She exhaled loudly and finally settled over him.

“That’s it, take all of me,” Richard whispered and rocked to and fro. His eyes met hers as he watched her bit down on her lip and meet him with each stroke.

Their breaths mingled and Mary gave him impassioned kisses across his face, her fingers clutching his shoulders as he fucked her gently instead of ramming her deep. He moved his face away and tilted her head back, placing his mouth on the side of her neck. Using his teeth, he bit down hard, marking her so Matthew and everyone else at Downton Abbey would know that she was his!

“Say it,” Richard ordered, rocking faster.

“No, Richard,” she wailed, and ground down on him in sweet punishment.

With a growl, he twisted and fell back on the bed. He pulled out of Mary and to her shock, flipped her on her stomach. He straddled her from behind and dragged up her skirt. With a slap on her ass, he dragged her legs apart and slid back into her very depths.

“Mercy!” Mary whimpered and turned her face to the side, the bedding scraping her cheek

Richard jutted his hips back and forth without any leniency. “No mercy for you. Call me, Sir,” he demanded gruffly, fisting his hand into her hair and riding her fast with the intent to make her succumb to him and only him.

Mary lifted up on her hands and joined the ride. His free hand came around and cupped her breast, prodding her puckered nipple with his thumb. He pressed her up until her back was against his front.

She lifted her arms over her head and wrapped an arm around his head for leverage. This made him slide in deeper and they both released a garbled moan together.

He wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Nudging Mary’s face to the side with his cheek, his tongue came out and licked everywhere he could reach on her face. Her tongue joined his in damp play.

Suddenly Mary’s inner muscles spasmed around his cock and she shook. He went still, his fingers digging into her hip, deep enough to leave bruises. He allowed Mary to find her release first, and when she finally went still, he finished himself off.

With a few last strokes, he shot his seed deep into her womb, clutching her close as he spent himself.

He hid his face into the crook of her shoulder and inhaled deeply, Mary’s floral scent calming him.

He lowered her to the bed and hugged her close, whispering tender words in her ear. The only sounds in the room where their harsh breathing. After a moment or two, Mary turned in his arms and gave him a drowsy smile that made his heart clench in his chest.

“Thank you… Sir,” she whispered and rested her cheek against his shoulder and closed eyes.

Richard’s smile reached his eyes. He had won.

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About ktgrant

Author of "out of the box" romances. Think of sexy, sweet and everything in between.
This entry was posted in Downton Abbey Fan Fiction, Rated-R. Bookmark the permalink.

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