Innocence Enslaved (34 page)

She was on fire with need, so much that her hips moved restlessly against his and her legs parted, opening herself to his total possession. His rigid cock found her wet center without either of them guiding it there. That made his head come up. With the tip of his shaft aligned so it would slide easily into her drenched channel, he whispered huskily into her mouth.

“I’ve waited too long to possess you, and won’t delay any longer. After the initial bite of pain, there will be only pleasure, sweetling. Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, please, I don’t want to wait any longer.” Before the words had fully left her mouth, he drove steadily inside her. She felt a slight pressure and a sharp pinch, then blissful fullness as he sank in deep. He paused a moment; she knew why, though she didn’t need time to adjust to him.

Her legs wrapped around his hips and she tightened them, pulling him in deeper. The heady groan that escaped next was full of invitation, and Corbet gratefully took it. He began to move, pulling back then gliding deep as his mouth claimed her, his tongue imitating the possessive movements of his body. She writhed beneath him, relishing at long last flesh joining flesh, hard meeting soft, man claiming woman. It was too much and quickly succumbed to wave after wave of pure ecstasy. After she came to her senses, she melted against him, her world full of him and it was as if nothing else existed.

“You’re no longer my dove, Emilia.”

“Yes, now I am your wife, in truth.”

“And in deed, my love. Now it’s my turn.”

“Your turn,” she repeated between pants for air.

“Yes, hang on, while I lose myself in you, as you’ve claimed.”

He hooked his arms beneath her knees and lifted them, spreading her wide as he drove in deeper than before. She hadn’t realized that there was more of him until that moment. She felt him fully as he sank in to the hilt, seeming to touch her womb with his hard length, stretching her and filling her beyond imagination. He leaned forward, propping his hands beneath her arms, which tilted her hips upward, lifting her bottom off the bed. And although she didn’t think it possible, he drove in deeper still.

She felt melded to him as he began to pump his hips, hard and fast, branding her intimately as his own as sure as any hot iron of Lancore could possibly do. She welcomed the pleasure pain as she clung to his shoulders, arching her head and opening her mouth on his neck. She sucked, as he’d done to her, tasting the salt of his skin on her tongue and feeling the rasp of his beard. Not letting go, she enveloped him body and soul as he rode her to completion.

Only when his masculine groans filled the room, signaling his climax was near, did she release her mouth and look up. When she did, she saw how incredible he was in his passion, his face a sensual mask of male perfection, his gorgeous molten eyes drilling into her own with undisguised desire, and his beautiful mouth set in utter concentration. She wanted to watch as he too came into his pleasure.

“Come for me, master.” The sensual command he’d used on her before, sparked the same response in him. With a low, rumbling growl he lunged forward, hovering above her as his body shook with a powerful release. She groaned almost as loudly as he did while his cock pulsed deep inside her, filling her with his seed.

When his head arched, exposing the strong line of his throat, her hand came up to caress it. She felt his pulse racing beneath her fingertips, pulsing fast like her own. Her light touch seemed to break the erotic spell he was under because he pulled back and drove in another time, and yet again, before he exhaled the pent-up air in his lungs. It was beautiful, as was he.

His head bowed and as his mouth took hers in another powerful kiss, he rolled them to their sides and held her close, still joined.

“I watched you lose yourself in me, Corbet, and it was glorious.”

He huffed a small laugh of satisfaction. “I am a very lucky husband indeed.”

She giggled, remembering the words he’d spoken back in Lancore, which seemed like eons ago. Then she laughed with pure joy. As he joined her, rocking her from side to side on the bed, she wondered what passersby would think of their silliness on their wedding night.

Chapter Twenty-Two

She reached for him the next morning to find his spot empty. She sat up and looked around, relieved when she saw him standing at the mirror shaving.

“You woke with a start, love. Bad dream?”

“No, I was worried when you weren’t there.”

“Put thoughts of Ervin out of your head, little one.”

“It’s hard to when he’s such a concern. And I have a bad feeling.”

“You have other more pressing things to be concerned about today.”

“I do?”

“Yes.” His answer was muffed in a drying cloth as he rubbed his face. When he emerged, he threw it on top of the marble vanity top, before checking his reflection briefly in the mirror. After that, he began to pace slowly across the room toward her, seeming an ominous threat.

“What is more pressing, might I ask?”

“It seems you’ve given your new husband of less than a day quite a dilemma.”

“How, when I’ve only now woken up?”

He’d arrived at the side of the bed. Crossing his arms, he glowered down at her. “Look at me and I think you’ll quickly decipher the reason.”

Slowly, she took him in, admiring his clean-shaven face, the bulging biceps in his arms, and the ridges of his hard abdomen left bare above his snug braes. Emilia shook her head in bemusement. He seemed perfectly fine to her, better than perfect if that were possible.

He planted a fist into the bedding next to her hip and pointed at the side of his neck. “This is the reason.”

That’s when she saw it. Below his jaw was a roundish bruise the size of her—

“Oh, dear. Did I do that?”

“You most certainly did.”

He moved toward her, crawling across the wide bed on hands and knees, stalking her like a large jungle cat and she his prey. She backed up as he drew closer, except with her side of the bed at the wall, she had no place to go. Soon, she was pressed against the headboard, clutching the thin sheet in front of her like a shield.

“It’s not that noticeable.”

“Emilia.”

“I got carried away, besides I was merely repaying what you did to me, in kind.”

“The master marks the slave, not the other way around. How am I to appear before the king with visible bite marks on my neck?”

“Wear a high-necked shirt and a scarf?”

He grabbed the sheet and ripped it off of her. His gaze skimmed down her body and then came back. Then he encircled her ankle with a large hand and dragged her across the bed.

“Would it help if I said I was sorry?”

“Yes, but you are still getting spanked.”

“Corbet!” she protested, clutching at the bedding, trying to find purchase. It did no good, for he easily flipped her over on her belly. With the prettiest pout she could muster, she glanced back and appealed to him. “It’s my wedding celebration.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“I’ll be too sore to sit.”

He ignored her as he sat on the bed with his back to the headboard. “Over my lap. Let’s get this over with. I’m starved.”

“You’re awfully cavalier about my pain, husband.”

“You were as offhand about my embarrassment, wife.”

When she moved too slowly for his liking, he pulled her across his thighs and settled her into position. “Part your legs.”

She hesitated. “But why, if you only mean to spank me?”

Twin smacks rained down on her cheeks. “I’ll not ask again.”

With a huff of frustration, she eased her thighs apart.

“Wider.”

She moved them another inch.

His hands found her inner thighs and splayed them incredibly wide apart. “When I ask that you spread your thighs, this is what I mean. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Two more swats fell on each cheek, then his hand moved across her skin, brushing the surface lightly, applying more pressure in a deep, sensual massage. It was heavenly and also arousing. A familiar wetness began to flood her sex. He settled into a pattern after that, a crisp, stinging swat, followed by a slow, sensual caress.

A moan escaped her lips.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself quite a bit for a punishment.”

“Mm-hmm.”

His fingers traveled lower and located the drenched slit between her thighs. “Do you recall me saying there were many ways to give me pleasure?”

“Mm-hmm,” she repeated as his fingers delved inside.

“This is another example.”

“You like to touch me,” she sighed, in more of a statement of fact than a question.

“Yes, that goes without saying. I was referring to this.” He smacked her behind, this time with wet fingers.

“You like spanking my bottom.”

“I do. I also like teasing you, because it brings out your sass. And making these cheeks rosy red with my palm because it makes you incredibly wet and wanting.”

She twisted her head. “You mean you aren’t angry?”

“No, I was only showing you how I like to play sometimes.”

A rush of fiery need swept through her. She wiggled over his lap, feeling the length of him pressed right up against the front of her mound. “I like this game too, master.”

“We’ll play often,” he added, with another smack and a slow, seductive rub. “I will likely get creative.” His slid two fingers into her heat this time.

“I’ll like that too. Can I get creative as well?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

His wet fingers pulled out her channel and slid down to tease her bud. She canted her hips, rocked back to meet them when he changed direction. Both hands curved over her bottom, massaging and rubbing for a bit. As she was relaxing, his thumbs dipped into her cleft and parted her cheeks.

“I do,” he whispered, as he leaned over, and then to her shock, his tongue circled around her small hole. It was thrilling and appalling at the same time.

“Master,” she groaned helplessly.

“This is how you want to get creative, isn’t it?” His demanding question tickled her skin. “You want me to take you as wildly and wantonly as the wench at the tavern that day. To take you lustily, stretching your tight bottom hole while driving into you fast and deep.” His finger slipped inside as he said this. She arched and moaned, which was answer enough.

“How did you know?”

“I saw them too. They were hard to miss.” He added another finger and began pumping slowly in and out. “I saw you watching them. Your cheeks flushed and your breathing quickened. You wanted what she was getting. Admit it,” he charged. “Tell me how you’ve dreamed of my cock driving into your naughty bottom.”

“Yes. I want it. I’ve dreamed of you doing that to me.”

“Where someone might chance to see us?”

She stiffened. “What? No! Not that.”

“All right, just checking.” He continued to play. “Do you need more spanking? Or are you ready to head down to our wedding breakfast?”

She objected vehemently. “You can’t leave me in this state.”

“What state is that, little one?”

“Needy. Wet. And on fire for you. Corbet, please.”

“Hmm, I think I prefer master from your lips when we’re at play.”

“Take me, master, or I’ll go insane.”

He lifted her off of him and came up on his knees behind her. The next moment, he entered her heat with a long, hard thrust. His thumb pressed into her bottom and hooked her, holding her in place as his fingers splayed out across her lower back.

He began to pump his hips, guiding her back to meet him, with possession of her deeply intimate hole. She tossed her head back, loving it.

“I’ll wait until we have more time. Until I can prepare you fully so there is only pleasure, no pain. Then I’ll drive in deep.” He thrust hard as though in promise of what would one day come. “Maybe slap your cheeks until they’re bright red.” He did so now, landing open-handed spanks on her taut up-thrust bottom. “Or I could get the belt.”

“Or the cane!” she suggested breathily.

He stilled. “You’d want that? Emilia, you were welted and bruised.”

“Not as he decreed. I’d want the cane, but only from your hand, and how you would want me to have it.”

He began to move again. “With just enough bite and a little heat.”

“Yes, please.” Her voice had risen, sounding close to a wail, she wanted him so badly.

“Shh, siren, remember we are not at home. Someday soon, when we settle wherever that may be, I’ll fulfill all of your naughty desires, because they are mine too. Then you can moan and scream all you like.”

No more words were spoken as he drove into her relentlessly, giving an occasional pump of his thumb, or a slow twist, and he spurred her desire with an intermittent sharp slap with his open palm. It was incredible and like so many of her wicked dreams. She couldn’t hold back, especially when his free hand wrapped around in front and began circling, rubbing, and flicking the little nub that nearly drove her mad.

Soon she had her face buried in the pillow to muffle her screams of delight but that did nothing to drown out his roar of satisfaction as he came deep inside her.

A half hour later, they were composed and fully dressed. Corbet was his usual calm and collected self, while she was flushed, her lips bee-stung in appearance from his demanding kisses, and she had a faraway, well-fucked—as Corbet cheekily put it—look in her eyes. That is what their guests would see as they arrived at their celebration meal. Emilia knew that, and upon hearing the chattering voice as they neared the great hall, she dragged her feet.

“What is it?” he asked.

“They’ll know what we’ve been up to as soon as they see me. My brothers, my mother, good heavens, my father.” Her hands rose to her flushed cheeks.

“Emilia, I have to say, no matter how you appear this morning, they would know anyway. It was our wedding night.”

“The servants came to get the sheets.”

“Proof that an annulment cannot be sought, that is all. You should be proud you were a maiden and came with pure intentions to your husband.”

That made her laugh. “That was entirely your accomplishment. I was weak and ready to succumb the first night in your study.”