She's discovered by Kyleson

Dear Diary, (evening of May 22nd)

I had to pause in detailing my account for dinner. Mr. Thornton had returned from Charleston in good spirits and as we ate, he asked about my day. I remember answering vaguely about getting to know Havenhall all the while hoping that the young lawyer did not see the blood rushing to my cheeks. I could hardly have told my guest how I spent the afternoon on my back with a man between my legs in a dingy room of my barns.

“Damn!” The distinctive brogue of Mr. Kyleson stopped my self-pleasuring like a bucket of ice-water dumped on two dogs going at it in an alley. “Your Papi used to come watch the animals go at it, just like this.” I knew this already from what Angelica had told me of my father's unusual tastes but hearing it from my overseer made it so much worse.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Kyleson?” I remember trying desperately to reassert control, but it is almost impossible to look responsible and in command when you are caught humping your own fist.

“Now, now, Miss DiFlorentini,” the plantation overseer chuckled as he closed the gap between us. “No need to get upset just because your panties are all wet and in a bunch!” I could feel my blood boil, I was the mistress of Havenhall ... no matter how embarrassing it was to be caught like this, I was still this Irishman's boss.

“Don't talk to me that way, Mr. Kyleson!” He was right on top of me looking down with a smug smirk on his face.

“Miss DiFlorentini, the barns and **** pens of Havenhall are my domain. I've seen plenty in these rooms over the past twenty odd years.” He leaned down so his face was just inches from mine. “I figured it out when I saw you in here jilling yourself like a nasty little slut - just like your mother used to.” I never could play card games; my face was too easy to read and Kyleson grinned when he saw the momentary look of dismay in my eyes.

__

“That's right, Miss DiFlorentini.” His strong hand stroked my cheek with surprising tenderness. “I know who ... well, what you are.” With as much confidence as I could muster I tried to regain some control of the situation.

“Whatever you think you know, Sir, does not change the fact that I am the mistress of Havenhall.” My bravado, it seems, was a mistake because Kyleson's gentleness turned mean with a swiftness common to his people. His hand grabbed me by my hair and lifted me to my toes and all I could do was whimper softly. He was so strong, so powerful ... so dominant.

“I'll grant you the plantation house.” Kyleson laughed easily, “But I am the master of all the niggers in my barns, so that makes you mine to do with as I like.” His other hand moved to the bodice of my dress and jerked it down roughly making me squeak in alarm and shame. He nodded toward the small viewing window and the adjoining room where Angelica was being rutted on by Conrad.

“Now you know what happens to pretty light-skinned house niggers when they come down here to the **** pits.”

“Mr. Kyleson ... please ...” I tried to pull my dress back up to cover myself, but Kyleson slapped my hands away like I was a naughty child.

“I think, Miss DiFlorentini, that it's time to see if you fuck as well as your slutty mama did.” In spite of the shame and anger I was feeling, when he told me what he was going to do, the same arousal that I had been feeling watching Angelica and her coal black lover washed over me. Only even more so.