The Passion of Darius, A Gothic Tale of Love and Seduction

Darius thought the weather perfect for their ride in the curricle. The clean scent of the June air mingled with the intoxicating fragrance of violets sitting beside him.

“Would you like to take the reins?” he offered.

“I would.” She nodded. “You will help me?”

“Of course.” Reaching one arm around her, he brought her close, transferring the reins into her hands. “Now grip firmly. Use the muscles in your forearms, not just your hands. Direct him. Tell the horse what you want from him.”

As she followed his instructions, Darius buried his face in her neck, nuzzling his favorite spot. “He wants to please you.”

“He must be a uniquely accommodating horse,” she sang at him.

She laughed a melodious sound. Her lovely laugh. It was a rare sound coming from her and he wanted to cherish the moment for the precious gift it was whenever he heard it.

“He pleases me. I wonder if I please him as much?”

“I can attest that you do with certainty, Marianne.” It felt good to banter with her, the unspoken meaning of their words as clear as if they’d said them a loud. She said you please her.

They crossed over the ridge that looked down to the sea below. Darius put his hands over hers, assisting in slowing the curricle.

“This is a good place to get out. Walk with me?”

He reached up to grip around her slim waist, lifting her easily from the seat and down to the ground. Providing such service to her felt wonderful, as did the knowledge that it would be his “right” to do so for her always. He loved the feel of Marianne under his hands.

After securing the horse, he led her to the edge. He looked out.

“Right down there,” he said, pointing, “is where I first remember seeing you.” He met her eyes. “You were just a little girl, nine or ten years old. You were collecting fossil curies, and had them arranged in order from largest to smallest. I was with my dog, a great beast of a hound called Caesar. He was rampaging along the beach with boundless excitement, until he pelted through your careful array, scattering your collection. I saw all this happen from a distance. You jumped up fuming, soundly scolding him. Caesar was very repentant, and by the time I got to him, you were patting him on the head and saying, ‘he was a good dog and probably didn’t mean to be so stupid.’ I tried to apologize for him. I said, ‘I hope my dog wasn’t a bother to you.’ I remember that you repeated my words back to me. I’ve never forgotten. You looked up at me so solemnly and said, ‘Your dog wasn’t a bother to me, sir.’ And then you sighed. You must have been very frustrated, but you were so composed and resolute, like a soldier.”

“I remember the dog, and that day.” She looked at him in wonder. “That was you?”

He nodded. “I remember thinking what an intelligent, unspoiled child you were.”

She blushed at his compliments, the rosy flush coloring her fair cheeks, making him want to press his lips to them and kiss over every inch.

“Mr. Simms used to pay a penny per five curies. He sold them in his shop to tourists. I thought myself very industrious, that it would make me a great fortune.” She smiled, caught up in the remembering. “And Caesar? He is no longer with you?”

“No. He passed on after a full and happy life. But his descendants are. You’ll meet Brutus and Cleo soon—they’ll be your very own personal guard.” He paused before speaking softly. “That was the first time, Marianne.”

She became quiet, almost as if she held her breath, waiting for him to say more.

“I remember the second time, too. It was maybe seven years later. You stood on that rock over there.” Pointing toward the south end of the beach, he said, “The wind whipped your hair back and pressed your dress against your legs. You looked like you were waiting for something, standing there, perched on the rock, staring out to sea. I thought you so beautiful, and knew you were the same little girl. I recognized your hair, but it was your bearing and your manner, the way you carried yourself that was the same.”

All this time?

Marianne could not have been more staggered by his revelations. How could he have been admiring her for so long?

“Darius, I had no idea.” She could hardly believe what he’d told her and shook her head in denial. “I still don’t comprehend why you would take an interest—”

“So, I left Somerset. Years passed, and I tried to forget about you while I waited for you to grow up. Tried, but was not successful at all.” He smiled, his thumb caressing under her eye. “It was impossible to forget you,” he said very softly, his eyes boring into her.

“I–I am… ”

“Shhh.” He brought two fingers to her lips. “You don’t have to say anything, Marianne. I just wanted you to know, that is all.” Brightening, he said, “I have a gift for you.”

“Another gift? You have given me so many, Darius.”

“I want to give you gifts, Marianne. It pleases me to choose things for you.”

“I have nothing to give to you,” she told him, saddened by the thought.

“You’re wrong. You give yourself—that is all I want.” He nodded his assurance. “Come here.” He turned her so her back leaned into his chest. He moved her hair aside, claiming her neck with his lips. “My favorite spot. I love to kiss you here on this part of your neck.”

His warm skin, the manly scent of him, the weight of his body leaning into hers, felt good. He held her firmly, essentially trapping her in his embrace. She felt him grow hard below the waist, a ridge of iron pressing against her backside. So strong and wanting all at once. Marianne understood that Darius desired her, but for some reason, also apparently needed her. He needed her to be soft and submissive. And obedient. He needed her to be the soft dais upon which he could find some comfort. If she thought about it too much, it worried her, so she didn’t. She turned the idea away. What if she let him down? Just like—

“Do you feel me?”

“Y-yes.”

Oh, yes, I feel you.

“It’s all because of you, Marianne. You do that to me. I get so hard for you, wanting you.” He swept his lips up her neck. “Push back against me. Press your body to mine. You want to.” Pulling her more firmly against him, he ground upward, slowly rocking his erection into her, all the while caressing her neck with his lips. “You make me happy, Marianne. So sweet, you smell like violets. Next to me like this, you are perfection.”

She let the sensations float her. Wrapped in Darius’s protective embrace, well-being enfolded her. The ridge at his hips felt huge pressing against her. Marianne was aware of the basic mechanics. She’d heard the stories and had friends who were already married. Darius would put that huge, hard piece of flesh into her. Would it hurt? It was said to hurt the first time. Would it bring pleasure? The sly comments and giggles of her married friends suggested it might. She knew it brought pleasure for the man, and was the only way to start a child growing. That husbands liked to do it often. That’s what she’d been told by her friends at least.

Right now, the kissing and stroking of his tongue upon her neck gave her pleasure. Still, she was curious and wanted to know more. Darius did that to her. Made her willing to do things she had never dreamed of doing. She would have done anything he asked her to do in this moment. Marianne could not ever remember feeling so cherished.

“Your gift.” He turned her and pulled out a box from his pocket. She opened the jeweler’s box to see a choker of pearls, bearing a glowing crucifix pendant with a diamond center.

She snapped her face up to meet his. “Oh, Darius. It is so, so beautiful. I love it. A great many gifts you are giving to me. Such a generous man you are.”

He was a great mystery to be solved. Why did he care so much, or at least treat her so? She didn’t deserve all he was giving to her. Why on earth had he ever chosen her to be his? At times, it felt so overwhelming being the object of his desires.

“You will wear it for me, Marianne.”

“I want to wear it for you, Darius.”

And I do. I want to please you, so badly.

14th June, 1837

Today I learned something about Darius that shocked me. For years he has known of me. I remember him, too, as a young man, with his dog on the beach. He was polite to me even then. I am always left with the unending question of… why me? Suddenly, I am feeling more inclined to some sort of divine intervention in regards to Darius and his notice.

MG