Master Me

Master Me

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Eve Silver has her own agenda when she goes to work for the sexy Earl of Devereux - she has some digging into her past to do. But instead she's drawn into the Earls world of domination and finds herself way out of her depth.

Summary

Eve Silver has her own agenda when she goes to work for the sexy Earl of Devereux - she has some digging into her past to do. But instead she's drawn into the Earls world of domination and finds herself way out of her depth.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Master Me

Author Chapter Note

Eve Silver has her own agenda when she goes to work for the sexy Earl of Devereux - she has some digging into her past to do. But instead she's drawn into the Earls world of domination and finds herself way out of her depth.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: April 26, 2015

Reads: 2254

Comments: 1

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: April 26, 2015

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Chapter 1
 

Eve Silver studied her reflection in the full length mirror.  Her hair looked good.  It was long, blonde and easily managed.  In effort to look business like she’d pinned it back in a neat bun.  Her make-up was understated; she still had a slight tan from her holiday earlier in the year so her complexion had a healthy glow.  She was wearing a mid pink lipstick and a little brow pencil – she’d do.  But would she?  She ran anxious hands down the side of her hips.  The suit had seen better days.  The skirt was a little tight, she must have put on weight, and the jacket was fraying at the cuffs.  The holiday had wiped her out financially so she couldn’t afford any new interview clothes.  Her shoes – a little last year, but would they even notice? 

‘Honest opinion, do I look okay?’  She asked turning to her friend, Jo Foster.

The young woman shrugged.  ‘You’re out of your tiny mind going after the job in the first place.’ was her no holds barred reply.  ‘The job at the museum is a far better option – it pays more for a start, and it’s permanent.  So why would you want to go and work up there,’ she asked, nodding at the huge white building half way up the hillside some distance from her cottage?’

‘I just do, I know you think I’m barmy, but right now it’s what I want.’

‘This shouldn’t be about what you want, Eve, but about what you need.  You need a job, a good job enough to get you a place of your own and your life back on track.  You need to earn some money girl.’

‘So you’re fed up of having me here?’

‘No, of course not, you can stay with pleasure, but you need your independence back.’

‘I know all that,’ Eve replied dismissively, ‘but this job does pay, you know.  I wouldn’t be working for nothing.’

‘No, but you’d be working for him, and that’s no picnic, believe me.’

‘I’m sure he’s really nice once you get to know him,’ was Eve’s piqued reply.

‘No he isn’t, ask anyone who’s had the misfortune to cross his path.  The man’s a stuck up, arrogant bastard, nothing less, nothing more.’

‘Arrogant – well he does have a title,’ Eve smirked, ‘but a bastard, surely not,’ she joked.

‘Don’t go getting any bright ideas – the man’s not for the faint hearted,’ she retorted right back.

‘Just as well I’m as tough as old boots then,’ she flashed her friend a smile, grabbed her bag and made for the door.  ‘If I get it, then it’s supper in the pub tonight on me,’ she promised.

Devereux Hall was beautiful, an exquisite English country mansion steeped in history.  Built in the seventeen hundreds, and given to the Devereux family by a grateful king, it sat resplendent in the Herefordshire countryside.  It had been extended over time but the work had been carefully done.  Careful financial management meant that the family still lived here and had not had to give it up to the National Trust or sell it on. 

Eve had no idea how many members constituted the Devereux family because the current title holder was shy of publicity.  She got out of the taxi and stood for a few moments looking up at the Palladian architecture.  It must be a bugger to heat, she thought as she pressed the bell on the huge iron gates.

‘Hello,’ she heard a male voice say as the intercom sprung to life.

‘Eve Silver, I have an interview this afternoon,’ she replied.

‘Come through the main gate, walk towards the house and I’ll get someone to meet you at the door.’

It was only a walk of about a hundred yards and the scenery was delightful.  The house was surrounded by parkland.  Eve saw a huge lake in the distance framed on one side by a wooded area.  The place must be acres in size.  The family might be shy of publicity but there was plenty of information out there about the Hall and she’d done some research.  As well as the extensive park there was also a formal garden at the back that sported another smaller lake with an elegant array of waterfalls.  She could only wonder at the amount of money required to keep all this at its best.

‘Do come in Miss Silver,’ the man greeted her.  ‘I’ll take you through to meet Mr Merrick, he’s the Earl’s PA and he’ll be doing your interview.’

Not the man himself then – perhaps he was away.  Jules, Earl of Devereux was a real mystery.  Eve had tried, but she couldn’t find out anything about him.  If he had a social life then it wasn’t bandied about in the gossipy press.  The only information that she did have on him was that he was thirty years old, single and an avid art collector.

She was led into a huge room full of antique furniture, not particularly comfortable, but a feast for the eyes.  She was ushered to a sofa by the fireplace.

‘Would you like some tea, Miss Silver?’

‘No thanks, I’m fine,’ she replied hurriedly.  There was no way she could eat or drink anything in here; she’d be too scared of spilling it.

The butterflies were starting.  Perhaps she should have made more of an effort with the outfit.  This place was so upmarket, so perfect, they’d take one look at her old, high street bought clothes and deem her unsuitable.  Eve closed her eyes and took a deep breath – she was being stupid.  The job would last three months tops – what was she stressing for?

‘Sorry to keep you waiting – conference call from Milan,’ the dark suited man said as he entered the room. 

He was tall, thick set and with close cropped dark hair.  He was good looking too – a man women would like, she decided there and then.  He carried himself with an air of confidence, he obviously felt at home in these opulent surroundings.

‘Alex Merrick, the Earl’s PA,’ he said with a perfunctory nod, ‘has James offered you refreshments?’

Eve nodded, she couldn’t speak yet, her mouth had gone all dry and her throat seemed to have seized.  She was a bag of nerves, unlike Alex Merrick.  He’d breezed in here, as casual as you pleased and never batted an eye.

Because he lives here, stupid and he doesn’t know about you, does he?  

‘I … I’m … fine,’ she stuttered then coughed, clearing her throat.  This was a stupid idea.  She was never going to be able to carry it off.  What had possessed her to even think about doing it this way?  Why hadn’t she simply written the man a letter or something?

‘Your references are excellent; in fact I’m surprised you’re even considering the post we’re offering,’ he said with a smile.  ‘I’d have thought it was more suited to a student.’

 Eve flushed; her blue eyes were glued to her hands, which seemed to be fiddling aimlessly on her lap.  

Pull yourself together – say something or you’ll look stupid.

‘I’m staying in the village, helping a friend, she’s been ill,’ Eve lied.  ‘So a job of three months or so suits me fine just now.’

‘Having someone of your calibre working on the collection would certainly suit the Earl too,’ he smiled.

‘Jules,’ he continued, using the Earl’s first name like they were old friends, ‘collects paintings by the lesser known Italian renaissance artists.  He has three which need a deal of restoration – your forte, I believe?’

‘It certainly is, and a delicate, painstaking job it is too.  It’s no job for a student either.  They wouldn’t have the extensive knowledge of how the old paints were mixed, about the pigments and oils for example.  It’s an area in which I’ve done extensive research.’

‘I’m sorry, Miss Silver, you’re talking about something I know little about.  I’m something of a Philistine where the art collection is concerned.  Jules does his best to educate me but the basic interest isn’t there.  I’m afraid if I want an image – I take a photo, and with my mobile phone too.’

‘Each to his own,’ she smiled.

‘Come – I’ll take you along to the gallery and show what’s in store,’ he proposed.  ‘Once you’ve seen them we can arrange hours – to suit you, of course and you can work out what supplies you need.’

‘So you’re giving me the job - just like that?’  It seemed incredible to Eve – all she’d done was present herself and she was in.  That sort of thing didn’t happen, even with skills like hers.

‘I see no reason not to, do you?’

Now that’s a question you daren’t answer. If he knew the truth he might throw you out!

Eve followed in his wake as he hurried through the house.

‘You’ll get to know your way around, don’t worry.  Impressive isn’t it?’

‘It’s lovely, must cost a fortune to keep up.’

‘It does, we open it up to the public a couple of times a month in the summer. That helps, and we also have the parkland which is open, and there’s a café over by the lake.’

‘Even so that can’t possibly cover all the costs,’ she reasoned.

‘The Earl is a very wealthy man and a canny one too,’ he reassured her.  ‘Here we are, Miss Silver.  The picture gallery, the Earl’s pride and joy.’

The room was huge with a high ceiling.  Paintings of all sorts adorned all four walls.  But what overpowered everything was a painting that took up most of one wall - an enormous portrait of a woman.  She was nearly naked, wearing only a thin chemise and with beautiful blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders and down her back.  She dominated the room, staring down with the bluest, haughtiest eyes Eve had ever seen.

‘Our incomparable Countess Sarah,’ he enlightened her, ‘wife to the first Earl Devereux.’

‘She’s gorgeous; she looks so alive, as if at any moment she could join the conversation.’

‘That’s because we take very good care of her,’ another voice added.  ‘The portrait is unattributed, but it’s possibly a Gainsborough, well I live in hope,’ he chuckled.  ‘Perhaps while you’re with us you could look into that for me,’ he suggested, coming up behind the pair.

‘Miss Silver, this is Jules, Earl of Devereux,’ Alex Merrick said, introducing the man.  ‘Miss Silver is going to attempt the restoration of the three Madonnas,’ he explained to the Earl.

‘I hope she can achieve more than an attempt,’ he quipped in reply.  ‘I’m hoping to show them at the end of the year.’

Eve had to hide her surprise as she turned to look at the man who’d joined them He wasn’t at all what she’d expected.  The lack of information about him in the press and online, including photos, had led her to suppose that he’d turn out to be a boring, art obsessed collector, with the geeky looks to go with the profile.  But as she stared at the male vision in front of her she realised how off the mark that’d been.

There was something about the way he looked; he wasn’t just handsome, he had a sexiness that made her nerve ends tingle.  He was tall with dark blond hair and smoky, grey eyes, eyes that had hers held fast in their steady gaze.  All she could do was stare back – trapped by his powerful presence. 

There was nothing else; it was as if everything, the room, the house, had disappeared.  All that she was aware of was his face, and those eyes.  Eve felt as if her body was caught in flame as heat engulfed her.  She suddenly felt embarrassed – she knew she was blushing but could do nothing about it.  She’d read about this sort of thing – in romantic novels, but she’d never for one moment thought it could happen, and especially not to her.And the icing on the cake – he was staring back, unfalteringly so.  She wanted to see into his mind, know what he felt.  Was his spine tingling like hers – had he felt the same shiver of need the moment their eyes had met?  What on earth was going on?

‘I’ll leave the two of you to it,’ Merrick decided, breaking the silence.  ‘Email me a list of requirements, Miss Silver, and I’ll have them ready for Monday.’  With that he left them alone.

‘I reckon every male in this family has been a little in love with her over the years,’ the Earl said softly, as he gestured towards the portrait.  ‘I know I am.  She has a definite charm, don’t you think?’

Eve didn’t know what to think, all sense of reality appeared to have left her.  What was he saying – in love with another woman?  She shot him a look of surprise then shook herself. 

Say something – open your mouth girl!

‘A woman who could inspire emotion,’ she uttered finally.  He’d moved closer, she could feel his breath on her neck.

‘But a woman with a dark side too,’ he intoned soberly, ‘look at her left hand, what do you see?’

‘She’s holding something,’ Eve peered a little closer.  ‘But I can’t make it our - what is it?’

‘A whip, or rather a riding crop, Miss Silver.  Sarah was a woman of irregular passions, and that whip was in constant use.’

Eve had no idea what he was alluding to as her powers of reasoning seemed to have abandoned her.  It was his closeness, the musky smell of his cologne – it’d been a while since a man had affected her this way.  Not since Liam in fact. 

‘Was she a cruel woman, cruel to her animals, was that it?’

Now he laughed, shaking his head.  ‘Take another look, note how she’s dressed for example, somewhat immodest, don’t you think?  You can plainly see her breasts through the fine silk of that gown, and her nipples are swollen.’

Eve inhaled sharply, what was he trying to do to her.  She could feel her heart hammering in her chest.

‘Sarah was aroused as she sat for the artist, lucky bugger!  No doubt she was imagining what she’d do with him later.’

This conversation was getting trickier by the second Eve decided, unsure how to reply to this.  ‘How … how … can you be sure,’ she managed at last.

‘The evidence is here - see her naked thigh.  There’s a split in the skirt, look,’ he said, sweeping his hand in front of the picture.  ‘Her legs are open too; see the darkness over her pubic bone – black curls if accounts are true.  Sarah was a tease, but much more than that.  She knew the effect she had on men, and deliberately flaunted herself before treating them badly for wanting her so much.’

Eve was no prude, but this from a man she’d just met and one that had affected her so dramatically too.  She felt the heat again - down her spine.  Please God – what was going on?  ‘She beat them, with that,’ Eve asked incredulously?

‘And worse,’ he paused, moving in closer to Eve, ‘I told you she had a dark side.  Sarah, Countess of Devereux was a Dominatrix, Miss Silver.  What do you think about that?’

Eve didn’t know what to think.  She was gob smacked both at this revelation, and with the fact the Earl was discussing this with her in the first place.  She racked her brain for some witty reply but nothing came.

‘Kinky sex in the seventeen hundreds,’ he tutted.  ‘Imagine the scene Miss Silver - Sarah, Devereux, half naked, wielding a crop as she lashed some poor sod’s butt and worse.’

‘You can’t know that for sure.  Perhaps she was simply a woman proud of her looks and happy for her admirers to look.’

‘No,’ he said emphatically, ‘she was a Dominatrix.  She was into kink in a big way.  Some of her stuff is still here – downstairs in one of the dungeons.’

‘The hall has dungeons?’  Eve asked amazed.

‘Indeed it does.  And no one made good use of them more than Sarah did.She had a voracious sexual appetite.  Men and women would go with her and never be seen again.  It’s well documented,’ he added.  ‘Orgies, kink and sexual torture were all carried out in the bowels of this building.  I can safely say that, on occasions, the lovely Sarah got away with grievous injury and at least once, murder.’

His hand was on her shoulder, his fingers making small circles over the fabric of her jacket.  ‘You make her sound like a monster.’ Eve’s voice was faltering - nerves, uncertainty – why was the Earl discussing this – doing this? 

‘That’s because she was, Miss Silver - a monster gift wrapped as an angel.’

‘The Madonnas, perhaps I should see them now,’ she put to him, desperate to get out of this situation where all the talk was about sex.

‘As you wish,’ he conceded.  ‘What do I call you?  Miss Silver is very formal.’

‘Call me Eve then,’ she smiled, ‘and you?  Do I call you Earl, my Lord or perhaps Sir?’  The idea of using his first name didn’t even occur to her.

‘Sir,’ he repeated the word, rolled it around his tongue and thought for a moment.  ‘Yes,’ he smirked back at her with a wink.  ‘In fact I’d like it very much if you called me Sir.’


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