Innocence Enslaved (8 page)

“And that’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it? When you misbehave in your father’s house, it is his right to chastise you,” he went on to reiterate. “When you misbehave in mine, I claim that right. Don’t you agree?”

His hand sliding into the back of her hair made her flinch in surprise, though his movements were slow and gentle. His fingers fanned out as he tenderly pulled them through her loose curls. It didn’t help the problem with the achiness, in truth, making it much worse as a trickle of moisture began to creep down her inner thigh. It distracted her almost as much as the fingers that brushed her thick red locks off her face and to one side of her head.

When he spoke next, his tone was as soothing as his touch. “I asked you a question, Emilia.”

“Uh-huh,” she breathed out softly, her answer remiss for she had no idea in that moment what she had agreed to. He chuckled low and deep as his fingertips grazed the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She bit her lip to stifle a whimper.

“You agreed I have the prerogative to discipline you when you misbehave,” he supplied for her benefit. “Do you also agree that what you did was wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must accept that a punishment is deserved.”

He stroked the side of her cheek with the back of his fingers. His tender caress caused more wetness to pool between her nether lips. Giving in to the sensation, she meekly lowered her lashes.

In the same low voice, he droned on. “You are also going to behave and take your spanking like an obedient girl.”

Said with assertion, not posed as a question, she couldn’t have answered anyway, especially when the back of the dress whooshed up without warning, sending a rush of cool air over the warmth of her bare, damp skin. She gasped, heat instantly rushing to her face when his hand came to rest on the center of her bottom. Her estimation proving correct, it was large enough to cover most of both cheeks.

She could hear the scuff of his footsteps as he moved behind her. She tensed. Not given undergarments to wear beneath her dress, he could see all of her now, every wet wicked inch. Slowly, his fingers ran lightly over her already sensitized skin. Her muscles tightened in anticipation and she gripped the edge of the desk tighter.

“Are you ready, Emilia?”

“Yes, sir,” she squeaked.

In an instant, a loud crack sounded in the quiet room as his hand came down, colliding crisply with the full curve of one cheek. Another slap from his broad palm quickly followed, landing in like fashion on her other cheek.

“You’ll receive ten with my hand.” Low and determined, his voice was as even as his spanks. “And ten with my belt.”

Four more blows landed each with greater force, creating more heat than the last, and not only on her bottom. A burning ache coiled deep inside her, and the wetness of her arousal that had started as a slow trickle was now running freely down the inside of her thigh. Another four followed, harder still, the swats lower, causing her body to rock and her pelvis to bump against the desk. When he stopped, her body hummed, yearning for more.

Never had she been so aroused, or more embarrassed. She couldn’t imagine why she was reacting so wantonly to a spanking, and didn’t have time to figure it out when the clink of his belt buckle made her breath catch in her throat.

He pushed her dress up further, well above the small of her back, leaving no barrier between her skin and his leather. His hand returned, his fingers gliding over her tingling buttocks, then they moved lower, the tips grazing the soaked flesh of her inner thighs. Dear heaven above!

“You are very wet as the result of my hand, little one.”

Wholly mortified, she couldn’t pretend anymore that he didn’t know. A groan of shame slipped through her lips while her mind cried out for deliverance, by chance, to disappear in a puff of smoke or for the earth to open up and consume her whole. None of that happened. She remained as she was, bared in all her wet glory before the man whose uncompromising authority and masterful touch had made her that way.

“Hush now, for a woman to become aroused from a few swats on the behind isn’t as an uncommon as you might think. The strap won’t be as easy as my palm, however. Spread your legs a bit wider for me now.”

She didn’t, frozen in shock at his request, and having no idea why he would want her to do that. “But—” she choked out, biting back her protest as two hard swats of his hand fell sharply on each stinging cheek.

“I gave you an order, dove. If I must ask again, your count with the belt will be doubled.”

That got her moving. When she obeyed and had shifted her legs twice a hand’s breadth apart, his hand curling around the inside of her thigh spread them further.

“I’ll need you to stay in place for these next ten,” he murmured, as if the intimate caress hadn’t occurred. “A wide stance will help you do that and also keep your balance.”

His hand moved from her thigh, smoothed up over her buttocks, rubbing the hot skin he had previously spanked as he went. It felt glorious, but was gone too soon, swiftly replaced by the sharp bite and loud crack of his belt.

“Ah,” she yelped, her skin instantly on fire from the biting sting. Instinctively, she reached back to protect herself from the next lash.

He caught her wrist and moved her hand back up by her head. “If your hands get in my way, I’ll have no choice except to tie them.”

Emilia quickly moved it back into place, gripping the edge of the desk as before, except now she squeezed so tight her knuckles blanched white in anticipation of the next blow. It soon landed right below the last. She clenched her teeth, while the burning sensation seeped in deep.

“Not quite as pleasant as my hand, is it?” The leather snapped, catching the crease of one thigh.

“No, sir,” she replied shrilly, the high-pitched tone nearly piercing her ears.

“And it’s not meant to be, or it wouldn’t be an effective punishment.”

Droplets of moisture formed on her brow, her knees trembling as the belt struck twice more in lightning-quick succession. The blazing blast not only heated her skin, but sent a jolt shooting straight through to the tingling nub at the front of her mound. She shifted her hips a bit, attempting to bring it some ease as it pulsed insistently.

“Be still. I’d hate to miss my mark while you’re wriggling about.”

An image of the wide leather belt landing between her spread thighs jumped into her head. She bit back a groan. By the saints, she should be in tears with the biting force he was using; instead she found her body craved the next stroke of the lash. As the leather hit across the lower curve of both cheeks at once, then again, it applied pressure to the weeping flesh in between. No longer having the ability to suppress it, her low moan resonated throughout the room.

With the next, the eighth by her count, she heard a low masculine grunt behind her. His hand threaded in her hair, keeping her facing front before she could twist around and see what was wrong. The firm pull on her scalp sent waves of exhilaration rushing through her. She loved it, basking in the control he was exerting over her.

With the final two blows, an intensely erotic vision popped into her head, of Corbet’s taking her as she was now, his cock penetrating deep, relentlessly claiming her channel as he pulled her head back by the hair, her body bowed tight under his complete command as he took whatever he wanted from her. Unable to stop it, a guttural entreaty emerged from her lips.

“Master, please.”

But his belt clattered onto the desk—it was done. She should have been relieved, but instead, her body craved something more, vibrating with a sense of frustration she didn’t quite understand. Her mind, however, was in turmoil. Merciful heavens, what must he think of her now? Twisting her hips, her body reacting like that of a shameless whore when she should have been showing remorse for what she’d done. She couldn’t have been more ashamed of herself, or more confused.

Fighting back tears that had been threatening to overflow, she lay with her head on his desk, facing away from him. She needed to get herself under control. He was a decent man and expected her to act like the well-mannered young lady she had been brought up to be. She should apologize and beg his forgiveness, promising to be on her best behavior, doing anything he asked from now on, but for the life of her, she didn’t know how she would face him.

From behind her, he said quietly, “Stand up.”

As she pushed to her feet, she wiped her wet face on her sleeve. The breath she took to calm herself hitched loudly, and was followed by a sob that rolled up and out of her chest.

“Sweetling,” he murmured as his hands turned her. Weeping pitifully, she buried her face in his shirt, surrendering to the comfort of the strong arms that held her tight. “Such a fuss,” he whispered against her hair as he stroked the length of it over her shoulders and down her back. After this went on awhile, he drew back, his hands cupping her cheeks and angling her face up to his.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted out, full of true remorse. “I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never—”

“There’s no need to say any more now.” He wiped at her tears with his thumbs. “You are going to bed, and in the morning, when you are calm and rested, we’ll discuss it further.”

His hands moved over her, adjusting her gown, which she hadn’t realized until now was still caught up around her waist. That she had stood wailing in his embrace while half naked made her face burn as hot as her bottom. Once she was covered, he brushed wayward wisps of her hair from her face and the long skein of it back behind her shoulders.

“I trust that you are sorry, but remember when you find your bed, that this was punishment. You are not allowed to touch yourself tonight to find ease. Is that clear?”

Her response came out in a squeak. “I won’t, sir. I promise.” Then, so ashamed that he would think she would do such a thing, she buried her face right back in his shirt.

“There now, what’s this?” he asked, tipping his head down to see her face. “Ah, such innocence,” he murmured, low and with a slight rasp as though to himself. “After such a fiery response, I’d nearly forgotten.”

He steered her quickly to the door after that, walking directly behind her. Reaching around her, he twisted the knob, uttering gruffly, “The moonlight should be sufficient to help you find your way back upstairs. Good night, Emilia.”

She was out in the hallway, staring at the sturdy oak panel in the span of a blink. An emptiness gnawed at the pit of her stomach as the weight of his hasty dismissal sank in. He couldn’t get her gone fast enough, so appalled by her wanton display. Hot tears poured down her cheeks as she stifled a sob and rushed down the hall. By the time she reached the stairs she was at a full run, wanting only to get to her bed and cry out her shame into her pillow.

* * *

Corbet pressed his forehead to the door, listening to her bare feet pounding upon the floor as she fled down the hallway. When enough time had passed for her to make it upstairs, he slammed a fist into the wall, the pain from the blow jolting up his arm and into his shoulder. It was nothing compared to the ache that had settled in his balls and made his cock as rigid as steel at the sight of the juices glistening on her cunt lips and inner thighs. He inhaled deeply to compose himself; it was a wasted effort. With the spicy scent of her arousal still lingering in the room, it only made his need worse.

Never had he expected such a reaction from one so innocent. He hadn’t meant to be so abrupt afterward; then again, he couldn’t have allowed her to see what it had done to him, his cock so swollen it had tented his braes. It had been all he could do to settle his body enough to give her some affection afterward and send her off to her chaste bed.

Although beautiful with her brilliant green eyes, the thick mass of Titian waves falling to her waist, and the alluring curves that made his fingers itch to caress them, intimacy had never been his intent. She had been visibly frightened when she’d arrived, thinking he meant to take his pleasure with her, yet when he bared her bottom for spanking, she’d been slick and ripe for the taking. He thought for certain that once he lashed her cheeks with his belt her arousal would diminish and she would succumb to tears of remorse for her actions. Only the latter half of his plan had come to fruition. His belt had actually increased her lust despite her heartfelt apologies.

Corbet thought he’d lose control as her husky moans filled the air and she writhed beneath the lash, wiggling her rounded hips with each stroke, arching her back, which spread her thighs even wider, her body essentially begging him to claim her. If it were not for her virginity, he might have succumbed to the temptation and done exactly that.

Frustrated, he clenched his fists, relishing the bite of pain as his nails cut into his palms. Glancing at the clock on the mantel, he saw it was late. Going to bed in this state was useless, however. With another curse, he strode out of the study and down the main hall. Without a lamp, it was black as pitch, but he knew the house like the back of his hand. Proceeding left out of the private wing, he turned right down a short hall, passing the entrance to the old hall without slowing. Usually, he paused and admired the ancient architecture, or the old stone staircase leading up to a little used solar, and to the parapet above it. When he wanted to think, he often went there, except that wouldn’t cool his heated body. He needed air to cool the burning desire Emilia had stirred. Better yet, cool water.

He pushed through the doors and hurried down the front steps. At a brisk pace, he climbed the hill that overlooked the stream on the other side. As he drew near, he stripped off his clothing, leaving a trail along the grassy bank. He plunged in, letting the coolness of the current wash over his overheated flesh, dunking his head under for good measure. Quickly, his skin cooled, but his unfulfilled need still burned inside him. His hand found his shaft, as rigid as before he’d dove in. He rolled over with a growl of frustration and began to swim, hoping expending his energy in other ways would allow his body to calm. When his powerful strokes pulled him rapidly through the water and his cock stand still hadn’t waned, he decided he’d be lucky if it did before he reached the North Sea.