Her Mystery Duke (23 page)

“Oh.”

He grasped her hand, firmly. Her heart began to beat faster.
“I am really very sorry, David.”

“It is good that you are sorry but that’s not enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You agreed to my terms.”

So she had. But agreeing in theory, in a moment of heated
love play, was quite different from being faced with the real situation. “You
intend to-to spank me?”

“Yes, of course.” He let go her hand. “Hang your pelisse
there on the hook.”

With shaking fingers, she began to unbutton the frogs. He
gently pushed her hands away and quickly undid them. Then he took her pelisse
off and hung it. He returned and began unfastening the laces of her day dress
in the back.

“What about Mrs. Wilson? And the maid?”

“They both have Wednesday and Saturday afternoons off.”

“So we’re alone?”

“Yes.”

Her dress fell to the floor, pooled around her ankles. He
undid the laces and tapes of her undergarments. Being undressed by someone else
made her feel passive, strangely calm.

Then she stood there, bared. For long moments, he studied
her body, his gaze scanning her from head to foot. He walked behind her and did
the same. She was almost painfully aware of a sense of vulnerability. And yet,
she merely stood there, letting him look. The sense of vulnerability was not
only painful but exquisitely arousing. The confusion of the two emotions held
her frozen.

She became cold. Her nipples became points and she shivered
a little. He took her hand and led her to a tub of steaming water. She hadn’t
even noticed it until this moment. Since the moment she’d come into the
kitchen, she’d been consumed by all her conflicting emotions and sensations.

“I told you, I expected you to be bathed and ready for me
every Wednesday when I am due to arrive. My time is very important and you
should never keep me waiting. Now get into the tub.”

She stepped into the tub and sat down. The warm water was
very welcoming.

She had expected him to leave her and allow her to bathe.
Instead, he took the soap and a cloth and commenced to lather them. The strong
scent of carnations, lemon and a delicate whiff of spice filled the air. A
bright scent that made her think of sunshine and summer. He put the cake down
and then stroked the sudsy cloth over her back. A soapy, silky glide. Warmth
and weakness spread through her body, slowly.

A duke was bathing her.

The thought fleeted through her mind, eliciting vague humor,
bemusement.

The act of being bathed should have felt too intensely
intimate. She ought to have been uncomfortable. No one had attended to her so
personally since she’d been a very small girl.
 
Each rhythmic stroke increased the sense of calm washing over her. A
sense of intense well-being. She lost track of time and place. Only his large
hands, working the soft, sudsy cloth over her body mattered.

With a pitcher, he sluiced fresh, warm water over her,
rising away the suds.

At length, he stopped. “Stand.”

She opened her eyes and stared at his handsome face with
confusion.

“Stand.” He took her by the waist, supporting her as he
urged her to rise.

She obeyed slowly, incapable of thought, and stepped out of
the tub. He toweled her off, his motions quicker now than when she had been in
the tub. Then he wrapped her in a thick yet soft woolen robe.

“We shall go upstairs now.”

She stared at him dumbly and he swung her up into his arms.
As he carried her upstairs, she clung to his powerful body. She felt warm,
safe. She stopped questioning herself.

He sat her on the bed. Her bed. She glanced over the long,
wide mattress. It seemed so vast. She supposed it wouldn’t be so with his
larger body in there with her.

He touched the woolen robe. Passively, she allowed him to
remove it. He put it aside and then returned to her. He bent and took one of
her stiff nipples into his mouth. He flicked it with his tongue. Then he drew
on it and darts of bliss poured from that peak into her chest, into her belly.
Fire raced into her loins. She moaned.

He raised his head and moved away from her.

She rubbed her nipples.

“There’s the matter of your punishment to attend to.”

His deep, resolute tone, made her look up.

He stood over her, still completely dressed whilst she was
totally naked. A delicious heat began to pool in her nether regions. She didn’t
attempt to cover herself.

“You really intend to punish me?”

“Yes, I do. And my time is becoming shorter by the moment.”

She swallowed against her dry throat. Her heart began to
gently pound. “How will it happen?”

“I told you before, Jeanne. Now, either you will accept your
punishment or you will tell me you want a sea change.”

What a ridiculous phrase. What a silly game she had agreed
to.

He sat beside her. The bed rocked but was so quiet compared
to her old squeaky ropes. He took her hand. “Come, sit up. You must have wanted
this or you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to forget.”

“I am a very forgetful girl.”

“You must learn not to be, at least where your obligations
to me are concerned.”

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“Then tell me you want a sea change.”

She stared at him. Blinked twice. And yet she couldn’t bring
herself to say the phrase. She was frozen and she didn’t understand why.

He let his fingertips caress her palm. Heat streamed into
her loins. A tingling began that she could only identify as anticipation.
Shouldn’t she be feeling more dread?

“Trust me, Jeanne.”

His tone, deeply intimate and understanding, melted
something within her. A warmth, a feeling of letting go, surged deep in her
womb.

She felt as though they were sharing a naughty secret. She
had never felt so close to anyone. Yet she was still afraid of what he would
do. A delicious confusion kept her frozen.

“Come,” he said, motioning to his lap. “You know you deserve
this. Let’s not delay any further.”

She moved towards him then crawled over his strong, hard-muscled
thighs. A vague restiveness quivered through her. He was so strong. How badly
was this going to hurt?

He took her by the hips and arranged her weight on his lap,
shifting and controlling her easily. Thrills pounded into her with every
frantic beat of her heart. Her cunt contracted rapidly, jerkily as if almost
unable to handle such sudden, intense anticipation. Wetness trickled over her
fast-swelling nether lips. Strange pleasure swelled within her, a feeling of
growing closer to him and wanting to be closer yet.

However, on the other hand, she was consumed also by a
giddy, stomach-fluttering, mouth-drying fear.

Did she really want him to actually spank her?

Perhaps she ought to reconsider and tell him she wanted a
sea change. Goodness, what a ridiculous phrase for this moment.

She couldn’t find her voice. She could barely breathe.

Smack!

His hand made contact with her buttock. God. It had really
happened. He had really spanked her. The impact sounded far worse than it
was—but no, wait—a stinging burn spread over her flesh. Oh, bloody devil, it
hurt. She sensed he was about to repeat it. She squirmed.

“Be still or else I shall add to your punishment.”

She clamped her jaws and swallowed and forced herself to be
still. Her flesh tingled with the terrible anticipation. She had expected the
next to come quickly. Now she was catching her breath, trying not to writhe
whilst waiting. Oh God. When would he—

Smack!

It was much like the last one, only he struck the other buttock.
Another blow came down. Damn, he had such large, strong hands. And he could
really spank with them when he wanted too. Now her throat burned as much as her
arse. No, she wouldn’t—couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. She focused on the
curtain’s braided gold cord hanging down in her direct line of sight and
swallowed convulsively over and over as the next two strikes came. The image of
the cord did blur a bit. But she did not cry outright.

Well, that was certainly something to be proud of, was it
not?

He delivered the remainder of the spanks, each blow a little
harder than the last.

She noticed that her heartbeat still pounded in her ears.
Her inner walls clenched over and over. She was aching, empty. Fantastically
aroused.

“It’s all over now, my darling.” He ran a hand from her
spine and over her arse. As his palm brushed over her still tingling flesh, she
gasped. He traced his fingertip along the crease of her buttocks then trailed
to her quim. There, he slid a finger inside.

Her channel grasped him tight. “Oh!”

“Christ, you’re so wet.” He withdrew his finger and slid two
in this time. Pressing, stroking.

He caressed her bottom, increasing the tingling burn.

Pleasure exploded with in her. Shimmering lavender and white
stars of bliss. Intense, God, it was too intense.

And too brief.

“Ohhh!” she cried out as if in surrender and she sank into
his lap, exhausted.

Time passed, how much, she didn’t know, she was insensible.

She came back to herself, feeling his hand massaging her
hair.

“I’ll have your apology now.”

Liquid sweetness pooled in her belly, affection flooded her
chest, and bliss consumed her mind. She wanted to please him. Always. And she
was sorry. Sincerely sorry.

“I am sorry, David.”

“Good girl.” He lifted her as he stood.

She could almost laugh as that. He was so strong. Bernard
could never lift her much less do so whilst moving to standing position
himself. David laid her on the bed, on her stomach.

Her nipples were hard points pressing into the featherbed
and wetness seeped between her legs. She closed her eyes and just felt her
body’s renewed yearning. The pleasant humming in her blood. She felt
strangely…exhilarated. She listened to the sounds of him moving around with a
calm acceptance. She didn’t need to look and see what he was doing or plead
with him to haste. He would come to her when he was ready. There was no hurry.
It was a kind of centered-in-her-body peace she longed for so many times but
had difficulty achieving.

“Kneel for me, Jeanne.”

Joy swelled within her chest and spilled into her belly,
into her loins. She pulled herself up on her knees with her bottom pointed up
at him. He touched her hips, positioned himself at the entrance to her quim.

Thrills raged all through her when he thrust inside and the
sensations centered in her channel. He put his hand on her head and pressed it
down. She put her face into the coverlet.

He pressed his knob hard against the door to her womb. She
cried out with grateful delight. He withdrew, all the way out. Then he thrust
back inside, quickly. Pressing harder against her depths. She tried to raise
her head to turn and look at him. But he held her head down and tightened one
hand about her hip.

“Be still.” His command was a low growl.

He thrust in and out of her harshly. Pounding against her
womb. Holding her down. Using her. Taking what he needed. Demanding everything
of her. Giving her what she needed in turn.

 
She moaned his name,
over and over. She had been made for this. For his use. His satisfaction. His
pace increased. His groans became harsher. His cock seemed to thicken within
her, stretching her walls, pressing even more insistently against her womb. He
felt hard as iron. She knew that he was close to completion. Her heart thudded
with the thrill of it all. A climax came over her that was a slow, sweet
melting inside. As mellow as the afternoon sun shining on the cream colored
walls. As his seed rained upon her, wet warmth, her pleasure transformed into
rich, molten gold, permeating her whole body. Her heart, her soul. Transforming
her into something more completely his.

He was her sun, her moon, her whole world.

“Christ, Jeanne.” His lips touched her ear.

“Jeannie.” He said the last as
though it were the sweetest endearment. She couldn’t hate the nickname any longer.
He caressed her hair. “My love.”

Euphoria filled her. It was even better than being drunk.
“Oh David.”

“What do you think of our games?”

“I like them, David.” She spoke breathlessly. “Oh, I like
them very much.”

He wiped his seed off of her body and came back to lay with
her. They crawled between the sheets. Still floating on the euphoric feelings,
she drifted in and out of sleep for a time. Then he caressed her face.

“How do you like the house? Would you change anything? You
may change anything you wish. You may have anything you wish, no matter the
cost.”

She stared at him, unable to collect her thoughts.

“The house displeases you in some manner?”

“It shall take me time to know exactly how I feel about this
house.”

“This house. The way you say that. As though it were
something disconnected from you. This is your home. From here on out, this is
your home.”

Speaking of things like time and forever threatened to lift
the rosy, dreamlike glow left by their play. She put her fingers to his lips.
“Oh David, I am overwhelmed by the grandeur of this house. I don’t know what I
think of it now except that I am deeply touched by your generosity.”

“I did not think about the fact that you might feel
overwhelmed. I knew it would be more luxury than you are used to but I did not
even realize how very much the luxury must strike you.” He smoothed her hair
from her forehead and smiled faintly. “I do not mean for you to be awestruck
with gratitude. I give freely to you because of what you have given to me. From
the very start, your compassion, your kindness, touched me and made me want to
give you…everything. Everything you deserve. You deserve this house.”