Punishing His Ward (6 page)

"Onto the bed," he ordered huskily,
enjoying her hot blush as she scampered to the middle of the
mattress, her hands hovering uncertainly above her body.
 Irene's first instinct once she was unclothed, unless he was
touching her, was to cover herself again.  Which, of course,
only made him want her more.  "Spread your legs."

"Oh Hugh..." she huffed, covering her
face to hide her mortification as she let her legs fall open a few
inches.

Laughing, Hugh grasped her by her
ankles and spread them wider as she squealed in surprise.
 Immediately her hands came down from her face, hiding her
copper-covered mound from his sight.  Seeing her slim fingers
laid across those coppery curls and swollen pink lips inflamed Hugh
even further. 

"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured,
covering her hand with his own and pressing her fingers into the
dewy petals of her womanhood.  "I've been aching to see you
touch yourself."

Unsurprisingly, Irene gasped and tried
to tug her hand away, but Hugh just pressed it in more firmly,
watching as he forced her to massage herself.  "Hugh... stop!
 It's... I shouldn't... it's indecent!"

"It's delightful," he countered,
feeling the wetness spread between her fingers and begin to slicken
his own.  The head of his cock brushed against her thigh as
her legs moved fitfully, trying to close and hide her private areas
from his view.  Not that he was having any of that.  His
body was firmly wedged in such a way that she wouldn't be able to
close her legs unless he allowed her - and he certainly wasn't
going to do that.  "You have no idea how enticing you look,
with your hand between your legs, touching your quim...
."

Leaning forward, he lowered his mouth
to her nipple, unrelentingly pressing her fingers into her core as
he sucked the taut, pink tip into his mouth.  Both rosy nips
were tightly budded, indicating her increased arousal as did the
flowing wetness that was now coating both of their fingers.
 Whimpering, Irene arched her back, thrusting her breasts up
towards his mouth as her hips moved convulsively.

Irene groaned as the wanton desires
running rampant through her body shredded away at her self-control.
 While she enjoyed the fact that Hugh was always willing to
show her whatever she was curious about, every time she thought
that he had shown her everything he possibly could, he would
surprise her with something new.  He'd practically growled
when he'd seen her hand stroking between her legs, even though she
wasn't being given a choice about it.

She felt incredibly
embarrassed about touching herself in such an indecent way, but she
also recognized that Hugh truly did enjoy seeing her do so.
 Although sometimes she wondered if part of his enjoyment came
from her shock and initial reluctance.  She had to admit, some
secret part of her thrilled with excitement when her husband pushed
her past the boundaries she set for herself... she especially
enjoyed challenging him and making him push.  His impatience
with her night rails always amused her, even as it aroused her,
when he would endeavor to convince her to leave any kind of garment
off before bed.  Still, the thought of walking before him,
completely and brazenly nude, took more courage that she
had. 

It was easier to wear the
night rail, cover herself, and have Hugh show his interest, rather
than exposing herself in such a way. 

The wetness at her
fingertips grew as Hugh continued to lavish affection on her
nipples, still forcing her to stroke her folds.  When he
finally shifted, pulling her hand away, her sensitive lips felt
swollen and hot, ready for his cock.  She gasped when he
pulled her hand to his mouth, deliberately sucking each of her
honey soaked fingers between his lips and cleaning them with his
tongue as he stared directly into her eyes.  The way his
tongue traveled along her slender fingers, the insistent suckling,
seemed to have a direct route to her core, which blossomed with
arousal at the completely decadent act.

Releasing her fingers, damp from his
ministrations, he lowered his mouth to hers and shared the taste of
her sweetness, her musk.  The smell of her arousal filled her
nose, the taste lingered in her mouth, and she moaned at the
forbidden eroticism of it.  

The blunt head of Hugh's cock nudged
against her and she widened her legs further, welcoming him into
her body.  They both groaned as he pressed and slid inwards,
stretching her open.  The heat of her channel seared him,
pulled at him, the slick wetness allowing him to easily breach the
entrance of her body and fully embed himself within her.
 

Claiming her lips again, their tongues
danced as he flexed his spine and began to thrust, slowly and
steadily, as she wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs.
 As much as Irene might try to pull him into her, deeper,
faster, he was far stronger and amused himself by taking his time,
driving her completely, wantonly wild in his arms.  Her nails
dug in, body straining and arching beneath him, as she rocked
upwards, seeking her culmination and unable to reach it as his
weight held her down and forced her to his slower rhythm.
 

"Please Hugh... oh please...." Irene
begged, her lips peppering kisses across his tensed lower jaw as he
speared her with another controlled thrust.  "I want... I
need..."

"What?  What do you need,
darling?" he asked, his voice rough with the effort of retreating
and then slowly sinking back into her while she pleaded with him.
 He had stripped away her manners, her propriety, and turned
her into a creature of sensual desire... it was fast becoming his
favorite pastime in fact.  There was nothing more satisfying
to him than making Irene wild with want, to hear her sweetly
begging him for release. 

"Harder... oh God... Hugh...
faster!"

The entreaties flew from
her lips, followed by cries of pleasure as she tightened around
him, her tight walls spasming as her ecstasy peaked.  Hugh
groaned, his hips pounding furiously between her legs,
relinquishing the reins on his self-control and let his body fly
free.  She was hot, wet, tight, and rippling around him as he
plowed her, ravaged her, and she clutched at him as she shrieked
with almost painful pleasure from the sudden rough
stimulation.

When he buried himself inside of her
completely, his cock swelling, he deliberately rubbed his groin
against her sensitive folds in a circular motion, making her cry
out and tighten as her swollen clit was caught between their
bodies.  Her pussy milked him, sucking as his cock until he
burst inside of her, hot jets of seed spurting and filling her.
 

His breathing ragged, he slumped over
her, listening to her soft moaning breaths as she quivered and
stilled beneath him.  

Once they had caught their breath and
rearranged themselves to their usual sleeping position - Irene
curled up against him, her soft bottom pressing against his groin -
Hugh found that his thoughts didn't want to quiet.  Irene's
soft, even breathing showed that she'd fallen asleep easily enough,
but all he could think about was his friends. 

He wondered what Wesley
would think of Alex's decision to reconnect with Grace.  Even
if it didn't happen right away, Wesley would again be the odd man
out when it came to marriage. Hugh knew that Wesley had felt as
though he'd grown out of touch with Hugh and Edwin, especially on
the advent of their weddings, and thought he had found a kindred
spirit in Alex.  How would Wesley feel once he finally got his
ward off his hands and returned to his usual life? 

Cynthia gave a start of surprise when
she walked into the dining room for breakfast and found Lord
Spencer seated there, reading a newspaper.  The Countess
rarely took breakfast outside of her own room, but Cynthia hated
being cooped up in one small space for any length of time, so the
staff was used to serving her breakfast downstairs.  What she
wasn't used to, was sharing the space.  

To her further surprise, as she moved
towards her seat, Lord Spencer put down his paper and got to his
feet, according her the respect that she was due as a lady.
 She just hadn't really thought he saw her as such.  How
could he spank her, lecture her, and otherwise act as if he didn't
think she was capable of propriety (although she certainly was,
when she was in the mood to be), and then treat her like a lady
over breakfast?  Yesterday he'd treated her as more of a
nuisance than anything else.

"Good morning," he said briskly,
gesturing that she should take the seat by his side.

It wasn't right that a man should look
so good first thing in the morning.  So rakish.  And yet
he was such a stuffy prig with her.

"Good morning," she said, determined to
be amiable.  It was too early to try for a spanking, even if
her bottom was feeling much recovered.  Besides, he might
decide on some other punishment, like retracting permission to have
tea with Eleanor that afternoon.  And Cynthia very much wanted
to have tea with the friendly woman.  Especially since Eleanor
seemed to know the Earl very well and he'd seemed to act quite
differently around her and her husband, Lord Hyde.  She found
herself highly curious about the Earl, who seemed to be a mass of
contradictions.

His brothers had both described him
with the awe and reverence of young men looking up to an older
brother of almost heroic proportions.  Not only had he
thwarted their father’s orders, he'd made himself rich on his own
merit, he was an acknowledged Corinthian, and a rakish seducer of
ladies.  Towards his mother he'd behaved like the perfect
gentleman, as well as being almost protective.  Eleanor and
Edwin had brought out what seemed like a more playful side.
 And apparently all Cynthia engendered was stuffy disapproval.
 

To her annoyance, he apparently
considered the morning civilities over with, and he seated himself
back beside her and picked up his newspaper again, just as one of
the footmen came in with her breakfast of sausages, eggs and fruit.
 Scowling at the black and white print, Cynthia wondered if
she dared interrupt his reading.  

Deciding she'd rather go to tea with
Eleanor than prick Lord Stuffed-Shirt, she sat in uncharacteristic
silence, picking at her food and dreaming about the upcoming
Assembly on Thursday.  It would be an opportunity to observe
the Earl in a new setting, one with flirtatious ladies.  Would
he act differently there?  She wondered if Mr. Carter would be
there... she'd certainly enjoy learning a bit more about men and
women.  Perhaps, if they found a sufficiently private space,
she would allow him to touch him between her legs. 

Her mind drifted, fantasizing about the
possibilities.  Maybe not with Mr. Carter... maybe with a
taller, stronger, more forceful man.  What would it be like if
the Earl caught her and spanked her again?  And then maybe his
fingers would drift down...

******

Practically cowering behind his
newspaper, Wesley gritted his teeth as his ward let out a soft sigh
that was completely inappropriate to the breakfast table.  He
hadn't been able to concentrate on the words in front of him since
the moment that she'd joined him.  A habitually early riser,
despite the fact that he was often up into the later hours of the
night, he'd been warned that Miss Bryant often took her breakfast
in the dining room rather than in her own room.  For some
reason he hadn't been able to resist the temptation of planting
himself in a seat, long after he'd finished his
meal. 

It was almost worth it.
 

Cynthia was softer in the
morning, her sensuality transformed from a blatant siren into
something more subtle, more gently appealing.  He could all
too easily imagine her rising, rumpled and warm, from her sheets.
 Hell, he could all too easily imagine her all rumpled and
warm between
his
 sheets.  She'd be perfect mistress material if she
wasn't both an innocent and his ward.  

Another soft sigh of pleasure had him
gritting his teeth and he peeked over the top edge of his newspaper
to find out what in the bloody hell the woman was making those
sounds for.

Strawberries.  She had a ripe, red
strawberry pressed to her lips, staining the pink bow a darker red
and making his cock quite suddenly stand to attention as her tongue
flicked out to capture some of the juices that were spilling over
her pouting lower lip.  The almost dreamy look on her face,
the warm flush in her cheeks, and the way her soft pink day dress
clung to her ample curves only exacerbated his situation.
 

"What do you like to do?" he asked,
putting the newspaper down almost violently on the table.
 Cynthia jumped, eyeing him warily as she popped the rest of
the strawberry between those incredibly luscious lips.
 

"Excuse me?" she asked, once she had
swallowed.  Her amber eyes were glowing faintly in the
sunlight that was trickling in through the windows, giving them an
almost golden cast.  "What do you mean?"

"What do you like to do?"
he repeated, waving his hand through the air expansively.
 "Ride?  Watercolors?  Gardens?"  The sooner he
could get her married off to an appropriate gentleman and take
temptation away from under his roof, so that he could return to his
usual pursuits of business, his friendships and seducing socially
acceptable ladies - the bored matrons of the
ton
,
the
better.  He could find out some of Cynthia's interests, look
over the field of gentleman available in Bath at the Assembly on
Thursday and find her an amenable husband.