Serenity's Dream (6 page)

her again. It was a mere moment, and she was lost again, her body writhing, arching off

the bed, trying to get closer to his hand. "I shall recreate you as a creature of the flesh."

He rolled her over onto her stomach, urging her to her knees. He moved a pillow

under her stomach. "Raise your arms above your head and don't move them."

She did as she was told, feeling languorous in the aftermath of her powerful

sexual releases.

Lucien removed his clothes and joined her once again on the bed. With her

bottom propped high, he could admire his work. He wouldn't pretend to himself the

crimson coloring wasn't to his liking. It appeared his little wife had learned some

interesting lessons in the years they had been apart.

As he rubbed her arse she moaned. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yes, it does, you brute."

He popped her lightly. "Now, now, I believe you asked for it."

"I certainly did. And you know how to deliver, do you not?"

"So I've been told."

"I rather fancy the burning cheeks."

"That's very good, because we've not even gotten started. I have wonderful plans

for this arse. Now, spread your legs wide for me." In doing so, her cheeks separated,

exposing her completely. It was indeed a veritable playground of delights.

He slid a finger down between her cheeks and stopped to tease her anus. He was

surprised she reacted by moving back toward him. He opened the drawer in the

bedside table and retrieving a bottle of oil. He poured some of the liquid over the

delicate pink pucker and rubbed gently before slipping a finger within the muscled

confines. Serenity groaned and again wriggled back toward him. He took her silent

encouragement and delved deeper. Her tiny muscles gave way to his intrusion, until

the entire length of his finger was fully seated. She moaned with satisfaction and began

to move.

"Do you like this, Serenity?" he asked, marveling at the discovery.

"Oh my good lord, yes. It is divine."

He slipped in another finger to join the first, working them back and forth, in and

out, to Serenity's obvious delight. With his other hand, he again worked her clitoris,

until she came in a thunder of screams and shouts. The waves of ecstasy kept crashing

over her, her reaction to his ministrations seemingly never ending. He continued, until

she obviously could take no more. Before she came back to herself, he entered her,

leaving his two fingers buried deep in her arse.

As he was reputed to do, he rode her to insensibility. She redefined moaning,

mewling like a kitten and roaring like a lioness in heat. He liked his women vocal.

There was no room for the shy, retiring type of woman in his bed. Serenity did not

resemble her name in the least.

He pumped her hard, using his expertise to hold his own orgasm back. With

slow, forceful strides, he rode her, prolonging the blissful torture. When he could hold

back no more, he encouraged her to her release once again, his fingers and cock doing

what they did best. The muscles in his neck tensed and pulsed, bulging as he strained.

His thighs tensed and quivered. Lucien came to a crashing climax, Serenity's shouts

mixed with his, one indistinguishable from the other in exquisite agony.

Finally, he collapsed beside her, pulling her close to his side. She nestled against

his heaving chest, gasping for breath.

"You again reacted quite favorably when I fucked your arse with my fingers."

"It was wonderful."

"The next step, with some preparation, would be me entering you with a glass or

marble phallus, which will be bigger than my fingers. Would you like that?"

"I believe I would."

"I must warn you—it can be painful. But with preparation and relaxation, it

could be quite pleasant. Now, sleep. The morrow brings new delights, and you must be

rested."

Lucien couldn't remove the smile from his face. His wife had pleased him

immensely with her willingness in his bed—a far cry from his single experience with

her. She'd taken his punishment with aplomb, and the intercourse that followed was

like nothing he'd ever experienced. He vowed her precious little bottom would always

remain crimson and would ache just a bit. It pleased him to take on the task.

But a cold chill of something unidentifiable slithered down his spine. Her sudden

reappearance in his life did not jibe with what he'd always known of her. She was

pragmatic to the core. It appeared to be rather impulsive on her part to simply appear

unannounced in his library—now, after her ten year, rather apathetic absence—and

state she wished to be his wife.

You cannot trust her, old boy, he told himself. All is not as it appears.

* * * * *

When Serenity woke the next morning, she found a note on her pillow from

Lucien. It said he looked forward to meeting with her when she was ready.

She laid back on the pillows, reflecting upon the night just passed and all the

wonderful experiences her husband had introduced to her. Late in the evening, he'd left

her to her own devices, presumably to attend to his business downstairs. Her sleep had

been interrupted by haunting dreams that lingered in the morning light.

It was inevitable, she supposed, that her former life would rear its ugly head. It

was only a matter of time before the Earl of Chetwood found her. He knew her as

Serenity Malin, but her greatest fear was that he would come to London and find her. If

that happened, the lout would destroy her and possibly Lucien in the process.

Being with her husband again had stirred feelings within her that had not been

there when they said their vows. It had been a typical marriage of convenience, and

though she'd found him attractive, he'd also frightened her, with his large, powerful

body and uncontrolled passion on their wedding night. He'd devoured her with a

ferocity she'd not expected nor welcomed. It wasn't until years later that she'd learned

his behavior was perfectly normal and did not deserve her desertion.

She'd heard mention of Lucien while in Yorkshire, when several men were

discussing the Sapphire Club, speaking quite specifically about how Lucien spanked

women upon their request. Of course, the conversation was punctuated with

descriptions of sexual fantasies as well, which had further heightened her interest.

She laid abed now, thinking about that particular evening and how she'd hidden

herself in an alcove in the library, surrounded by a heavy drapery. She'd been reading,

and as the sun began to set, she'd fallen asleep in the cozy window seat. The gentlemen

came in after a raucous day of riding and rabbit hunting, ready for libation and talk of a

carnal nature. They began discussing a particular woman, Lady Foxworth.

"Yeah, Damrill thrashes her arse and then fucks her until her caterwauling can be

heard throughout the building."

Serenity had become positively orgasmic. She couldn't believe she wasn't the

only one who had those desires. Having had all her fondest sexual dreams spoken of as

though people indulged in them regularly, simply thrilled her. She'd long felt she was

sick in some way, never having known anyone who dreamed of spankings as she

herself was wont to do.

She remembered that even as a child, she would attempt to spank herself,

relishing the feeling of bending over her bed or the arm of a chair and striking her

bottom with a hairbrush. However, as she'd grown older, she began to feel sexual

warmth when she had thought of being bent forward, her arse bared and having it

paddled or strapped or caned.

Meeting Winsor had been a fortuitous accident and one for which she'd always

been most grateful. In the early days of her country exile, she'd rarely attended the

assemblies, but at the urging of her servants, she'd indeed accepted an invitation. It was

there, at the estate of the aged Earl of Chetwood, that she'd met his son and heir.

Winsor Thorndyke was young, handsome, almost too much so, and possessed a

verve for life she'd never seen. He'd loved horses and women, being a notorious

libertine. He quickly proposed marriage to her. When she confessed to already being

married, he asked her to be his mistress. His eyes and his convincing manner of speech

mesmerized her, and she accepted whatever he asked of her. The only stipulation she'd

ever placed upon their relationship was he that he never reveal the true nature of their

relationship in public.

Her introspection was interrupted by Marjorie's knock on her door.

"Madam, I have come to help you ready yourself for the day."

Serenity rolled her eyes to the sky, ready to submit herself to whatever new

humiliations Lucien might have sent Marjorie to perform.

* * * * *

Serenity entered the morning room as the ormolu clock struck ten.

"Good morning, Serenity."

Lucien wore a pleasant smile, and thoughts of his extraordinary body turned her

mind to mush. With his curly black hair flecked liberally with silver, a face like a Greek

god, and his finely honed masculinity, he made her long to submit to him completely. It

would be wonderful to be under his protection. He could give her what she wanted. He

could protect her from the situation she'd gotten herself into with the new Earl of

Chetwood.

But lying to him had left her bereft. And for all they would share, she knew they

would never have that extra something she so desperately wanted—love. It too had lain

dormant, lost in apathy and lassitude. Love would never be. For now, she would

content herself with having her sexual needs satisfied and with satisfying his.

"I trust you can occupy yourself," he said matter-of-factly. "I shall be out for

much of the day. Your suite is prepared and Marjorie will help you to get settled."

"I look forward to it," she said, still lost in thoughts of her deception.

"Until later, then." He bowed to her, and the heels of his Hessians clicked loudly

on the parquet flooring as he exited the morning room.

Until later
. Guilt shrouded her, making her feel like the wretch she knew she was.

She dismissed her desolate feelings, and soon all she could think about was

having Lucien's hands upon her body and how much she looked forward to their next

encounter. Moisture pooled between her legs, and her body nearly swooned with the

excitement of it. His deep, rich voice, encouraging her to take more while he played

with her sexually, was all she could ever want. Unbeknownst to her, she'd married a

man who was sensuality personified.

A footman came into the room and began removing the serving dishes. She

realized she'd allowed her tea to grow cold, signaling an end to her meal. She'd no idea

what she would do to occupy her time over the next few hours, but she desperately

needed to be alone lest the telltale signs of arousal become evident to all who saw her.

Chapter Six

Business had called Lucien away early that morning, but he returned to their

residence a little before three. What a difference a few days in Serenity's presence had

made. He'd found himself with a fierce need to see her.

He found her in a room she was in the process of adopting as her sitting room.

He greeted her pleasantly with a kiss to the cheek.

She startled at his touch, and she worried her poor hands.

"Is there anything amiss, my dear?"

"Nothing a nice tumble with you wouldn't cure."

Lucien smiled, pleased with her frankness. "Well, to be propositioned by my wife

is a welcome surprise."

"Yes, I've thought of little but your cock since you left me this morning."

"Oh, so it is my appendage you have pined for and not me, with all my infinite

charm?"

Serenity smiled, bowing her head, her cheeks flushed.

"I vow it is your infinite charm and your cock that have me in the state I am in. I

demand recompense for the agony you have caused by leaving me alone."

"Soon enough, my pet, but now you must go to your chamber. Marjorie is

waiting for you there. She will prepare you for your spanking." His hand cupped her

bottom and squeezed. "I won't be as gentle today, so you should prepare yourself," he

whispered. He took her hand and placed in on the bulge that was making his breeches

tighter than they should have been. "Now, go along. There is much preparation to be

made."

* * * * *

Indeed, Marjorie was waiting for her with a bath prepared, scented with rose

water and steaming pleasantly. Marjorie helped Serenity disrobe.

"I shall bathe you, Mrs. Damrill. You need to simply relax."

The bath was heavenly. While the maid's ablutions cleansed her body, Serenity

tried to calm her mind. She was overanxious for her rendezvous with her husband. Her

body craved what he offered. She needed it. His hand was sure but without malice. She

wanted to feel his hands and the lash upon her, teaching her with each stroke to be

submissive to his and only his wishes and commands. Her eyes closed, and she allowed

herself to doze until the water grew tepid. Marjorie urged her out of the water and

dried her.

"Please, we must hurry, ma'am."

Serenity donned the simple light blue muslin Marjorie had chosen for her. There

were no stays or chemise. Her wet hair was brushed and fashioned into a braid, which