LORD DECADENT'S OBSESSION (10 page)

he offered this day. Despite her ultimate goal, she'd realized through her weeks of

deprivation that she had a need, and no one else could satisfy that need as he did. He

was skilled, and when the time came, she knew she would miss her sessions with him.

But, she told herself, make no mistake . . . that time
will
come
.

The elegant room was quite large, and breathtakingly appointed. Gilt and dark

wood bedposts supported an elaborate tester, from which fell heavy swags of red velvet

with long fringes. The tester's ornately carved head and frieze depicted what she

assumed was the Wycroft crest. The red watered-silk on the walls matched the canopy

and counterpane. The décor included splashes of red damask on chairs and settees. A

mammoth fireplace filled one wall, with its white marble mantel, upon which sat

dozens of miniatures. Upon the walls hung large, gilt-framed paintings of tranquil

landscape and animal scenes, intermingled with an occasional portrait of a stern man or

woman. She realized she'd half-expected the decadent erotic paintings found at the

club, but instead, this room could have belonged to his lordship's mother.

Situated directly in front of the fireplace, in the middle of the room, sat a

Biedermeier chaise, identical to those found at The Sapphire Club. Its well-padded,

rolled arms and highly glossed fruitwood frame beckoned her to assume the position

and await Lord Wycroft's expert hand. Her bottom quivered at the expectation.

The door opened and closed with a barely discernable click. She turned toward

the sound. When she fully faced him, she stripped off her chemise, leaving her standing

completely nude.

"So you recognize that piece?"

"Yes, I most certainly do."

"Good," he said approvingly. "I believe we will make considerable use of it."

Desiree smiled, her stomach feeling as though a village of butterflies had taken

up residence.

"It has been some time, and I feel as though I have neglected you. Do you feel

neglected, Mrs. Huntington?"

"Yes, I must say I do."

Prentice walked to a chest that stood along the wall. He opened the drawer, and

removed several items. His back was to her, so Desiree couldn't see what he had taken

from the drawer, but she knew she would enjoy whatever it was.

"I have not used these specific items in quite some time, but I fancy it won't take

long to become accustomed to them again."

He turned, and she saw the implements he held in his hands: a paddle and

leather strap.

"You've not been spanked in some time. I can promise you I will not be so

neglectful in future."

"There should be a penalty for that neglect, should there not?"

"I can't imagine to what you refer, madam." His tone was light, and it warmed

her to hear it.

He sat on the side of the bed and patted his thighs. "Come."

Despite herself, she couldn't help but prance anxiously to his lap. When she was

comfortably situated across his thighs, he rubbed her bottom. "Oh, my, your beautiful

derriere has lost all its lovely color." He struck her, leaving behind a slight heat.

Between each strike, he rubbed his mark. She closed her eyes, the better to concentrate

on the ecstasy of the attention he was giving her. She emitted soft, approving moans.

She adored this moment, and looked forward to all that would follow.

After a few more swats, he helped her to her feet. "I've selected a strap for you;

would you like that?"

"Oh, yes, please." She craved the feel of Prentice's strap. He seemed different, and

she wanted him. She'd chastise herself later, but for now, she wanted Prentice in every

way possible.

Chapter Ten

"Go to the chaise," Prentice said, his voice almost a whisper. As he watched her

cross the room, her swaying hips showing off her bottom's tantalizing color, a wave of

nostalgia washed over him. This was the room in which he'd first made love to his wife,

had first spanked her and held her through the long night when she gave birth to their

child. Sadly, Abigail had died in this room, plunging him into an abyss.

Somehow, it was appropriate to have Mrs. Huntington here, to replace the past

with the living, breathing present. As he watched Desiree kneel on the seat of the chaise

and stretch out over the rolled arm, he felt another warm breeze, as though someone

had opened a window, allowing in that first bit of spring. He again accepted the sign as

Abigail telling him to move forward.

He took up the strap, a well-worn piece of leather he had been subjected to by his

father and his tutor when but a boy. A smile cut across his face as he remembered

himself howling like a wounded animal when his rear end received the blows for one

infraction of the rules or another. In reality, he had enjoyed every moment and often

contrived ways to be sentenced to such punishment.

Even Abigail hadn't known that tidbit of information. Only Lucien knew, and

had secretly applied the leather on occasion, when Prentice felt the need for it.

Prentice flicked the strap against his thigh as he walked toward the chaise.

Desiree had arranged herself comfortably, her bottom high, her legs spread wide.

Normally, he preferred his client's feet firmly planted on the floor, but this had

interesting possibilities for after the strapping.

"How badly do you want this, Mrs. Huntington?"

"Desiree, please call me Desiree."

"Very well, Desiree, how badly do you want this?"

"Very badly, my lord."

Prentice teased her, dragging the strap over her flushed cheeks, which bore

several handprints from his earlier efforts. She waggled her bottom ever so slightly.

Prentice drew back and struck.

"Whoo." She bent her head forward and inhaled deeply.

Prentice held back, allowing her to absorb the blow. He'd not hit her hard; the

idea wasn't to hurt her, just to make it sting. However, coming so soon after his hand

spanking, the sting would be intense.

"Not what you expected?"

"Just what I wanted."

With several more, Desiree and Prentice seemed to get into a rhythm. He applied

the strikes, each one a bit harsher than the last, and she regulated her breathing so to

exhale when the blow struck. Prentice knew she couldn't take many, so he made sure

she felt the ones he administered. When he heard her sniffle, he stopped.

His admiration for her was immense. She hadn't moved but to raise her bottom

higher to meet the strap.

He rubbed her bottom, admiring his work. He brought her hand to rest on one

cheek so she could feel the heat. Her smile nearly unmanned him. Thoughts of a

dangerous nature streamed through his head, ones he could ill afford.

Prentice's cock was aching, and he made no effort to hide the bulge that

threatened the buttons' strength on his breeches. He crudely rubbed along his length, as

her tongue licked her bottom lip. He stood before her, barely giving her room to seat

herself on the chaise. With their eyes locked, she reached to release the straining

buttons. Prentice's eyes closed when she first touched his skin.

She hooked her thumbs into the waistband, and with painful, agonizing care, she

pulled the breeches over his hips. She gave him a mischievous smile as she licked the

fluid from the head of his cock. He smiled back weakly, not sure if he could withstand

much more while standing.

He put his hand under her chin and said, "Let's get comfortable."

He shucked out of his breeches and scooped her into his arms for the short trip to

the bed. He set her on her feet, and settled against the pillows as she took a position

between his widely spread legs.

She brushed her delicate hands along the insides of his thighs, moving toward

the juncture where legs met torso. The skin was so sensitized, making him aware of

every nuance. Avoiding her ultimate goal, she brought her hands below his ballocks.

With a barely discernible flick of her wrist, she encouraged him to lift up so she

could knead his buttocks. Her touch was wonderful, firm yet somewhat tentative. So

often, he was the attentive one. Only on rare occasions was he fortunate enough to find

a partner who enjoyed exploring the male body.

He allowed an approving sound to escape his lips, as she slid her fingers down

the crease between his cheeks.

"Do you like that?" she asked

He remained silent, not trusting her enough to share such secrets.

She abandoned his backside, licking and teasing, which drove Prentice to the

brink of madness before she enveloped his length, one agonizing inch at a time. She

knew the most sensitive places, the clever girl, concentrating on them with flicks, licks,

and sucks.

He put one hand in her hair, taking a fistful of the blond silk. As her rhythm

became more schooled, he clutched and released. He felt the orgasm begin to build,

heat settling in the small of his back. He tensed and held his breath, afraid to miss even

the slightest sensation. He moved in an effort to seek the heat of her mouth, holding her

head firmly in place. She rolled his ballocks as they tightened, squeezing just the way he

needed. Without shame, he released his seed into her mouth. She gagged but he was too

far gone to release her. He felt her licking his spent cock and she continued to lave him

until he could stand no more.

He pulled her close, kissing her, praising her without words for the pleasure she

had given him. He held her for several minutes, recouping his abilities, then, with a

practiced movement, he rolled her onto her back and plunged into her, his cock again

hard as stone.

He placed his hands on each side of her face, and with slow, deep strokes, he

fucked her, as he focused his eyes on hers. He insisted she not close them, for he wanted

to see her as she reached her peak, and all moments in between. The brilliant emerald

combined with sunlight, giving the verdant depths a sparkle, the twinkle of a sexually

aroused woman about to realize that paradise was but a stroke away.

"Come for me," he whispered in her ear. "Come loudly." He punctuated each

word with a controlled thrust.

Her hot breath left her body in pants. She smelled of musk, undoubtedly his

favorite fragrance. She dug her fingernails into his back and brought her legs around his

thighs. The slight pain was like a whip to a horse. As she pulled him closer with her

legs, he thrust with all the power he could muster. His loud grunts were unabashed as

he struggled fiercely for the closeness he required.

Her moans became soft keening sounds, then unintelligible words as her body

tightened around him, her legs trapping him closer. Her attempts to thrash underneath

him were futile, as they were skin to heated skin from chest to genitals. His hips

pumped against her, sharp, staccato thrusts, each accompanied by a grunt for emphasis.

She came with blinding intensity, her body arched in the perfect position to fully feel

the rampaging force of his hips as they slammed into her.

"Oh, God," he said, as his body gave way to bone-wracking shudders, that went

on for several long moments before his arms apparently could no longer hold his

weight.

Desiree struggled for breath beneath Prentice, but still she clung to him,

enraptured by his skills, much to her dismay. She had never envisioned such passion,

such unadulterated pleasure. For all of Prentice Hyde's deficiencies, giving pleasure

was not one of them.

She'd be sore for a week, but the discomfort would be worth it to have had this

experience. He was sucking in great amounts of air, trying to catch his breath. She

finally had to push at his shoulders to get him to move so she could do the same.

"So sorry," he panted, as he situated himself to her side, one leg draped over both

of hers.

Neither spoke for several minutes. Desiree thought he'd fallen asleep, noting his

breathing was even, and his eyes were closed. She was rather enjoying his warm breath

on her skin, when he propped himself up on one arm and looked down at her.

His smile was toothy; his eyes sparkled. "Will you stay here with me for a few

days?"

"Do you wish me to stay as your guest or paramour?"

"As my paramour, of course. I would like to take you to the lake, and the forest,

and . . . ."

"And what will we do in all of those places?"

"I will spank you in each one, and then we will make love with abandon. Will

you stay?"

She was treading on dangerous ground, for her heart was already beginning to

betray her. However, she couldn't keep herself from agreeing. "I would like that above

all things. It sounds marvelous."

Upon her return to London she would spend weeks castigating herself for this

decision, but for now she wished to enjoy every moment.

"Wonderful. That's settled. Now, I wish to ask some questions, and I expect

truthful answers. Understood?" His voice was playful, enticing her to play along with

him.

"Understood, sir. Ask away."

"Why do you like to be spanked?"

"Well, I suppose the intimacy of it, for one thing. I have always been enticed by

erotic drawings . . . ."

"Erotic drawings? Where would you have seen such things?"