by Golden Angel
“Yes, Miss Stafford?”
Vivian hesitated, not wanting to earn herself extra punishment, but at the same time wanting to ensure she understood why she wasn’t being punished for her walk with the earl. “I disobeyed your order to stay in my location during the tea. Am I not to be punished for doing so?”
“Are you looking for extra punishment?” Mrs. Banks inquired, surprised.
“Oh, no.” Vivian shook her head. “But I did disobey an order. I just don’t understand.”
She looked so earnest, so determined to ask even though she didn’t want to add to her spanking, that Mrs. Banks couldn’t help but smile fondly at her. That was just the kind of reaction Vivian provoked with her sweet submissiveness.
“Any order from your husband will supersede any direction you’ve received from another party,” Mrs. Banks explained. “Including myself. He wanted to stroll with you and therefore took precedence over my injunction that you remain in the location you were assigned. Any time your husband issues you a new order, you will not be punished for disobeying another’s.”
“Oh.”
Mrs. Banks gave Vivian a moment to think that over. She could see the spark and flare of interest in Vivian’s green eyes, the slight curve of her lips as she assigned her future husband his place in the hierarchy. Vivian responded automatically to dominance, and to have the earl be the acknowledged top of the heap only made him more attractive to her, although she wasn’t consciously aware of it. It was with those thoughts in mind that Vivian disrobed and got into position over Mrs. Banks’s lap.
Mrs. Banks used the hairbrush as Vivian cried out, her hands twitching in their bonds, the earl more vivid in her mind than ever. He’d threatened to spank her for running herself down and she’d seen the desire in his dark eyes when he’d said it. The image made her arousal even stronger than usual as Mrs. Banks turned her bottom red.
Every smack made her hotter and hotter, both in pain and pleasure, as she lost herself in the fantasy of the earl, his dark eyes burning into hers, his hands handling her body easily. Her bottom moved up and down, as if to meet the hairbrush as it descended, the front of her womanhood rubbing against Mrs. Banks’s thigh, sending trickles of pleasure threading their way through the spanking.
When the brush finally laid its last imprint on Vivian’s reddened cheeks, Mrs. Banks tucked it swiftly into her pocket before putting Vivian on her knees to suckle her fingers. Smiling approvingly, the companion watched as the younger woman relaxed, taking comfort from her after-punishment routine. The companion rather thought Vivian would make the transition well on Monday, although she might be taken aback to be presented with the earl’s cock rather than his fingers.
Afterwards, Vivian laid out on the bed while Mrs. Banks took some time to fondle the young woman’s breasts, sharply pinching the pink, budded nipples until Vivian practically writhed with the need that had grown between her legs. Then fingers slipped down into that slick aperture, rubbing and teasing and probing. One, two, slid inside of her, giving her the delicious sensation of being stretched as other clever fingers plucked at the little pleasure bud that was so swollen and achy.
Vivian climaxed with a scream, her hands fisted in the bed sheets, as she saw the earl’s dark eyes in her mind, his hungry look, and imagined the feel of his body pressed against hers.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GABRIEL PROWLED AROUND HIS FATHER’S house the entire weekend. He’d gone there rather than staying in his own London home in order to distract himself from the emptiness of his house. Soon he’d be bringing home his bride, but it couldn’t be soon enough for him.
Seeing Vivian again, finally being able to touch and talk with her, had only solidified his desire for her. Granted, he’d been close to the point of obsession with her for over a year now, because he’d thought she’d be exactly the type of wife he’d always wanted to have. From the moment he’d met her at the wedding, he’d sensed untapped passion, a keen mind, and the sweet eagerness of a true submissive.
At that moment he’d decided to have her for his wife. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for men of his stature to decide quickly on the woman they would wed, due to whatever factors they’d decided upon to choose their brides by. Marriages were brokered and bartered within the ton on a regular basis, sometimes without the parties having met at all. Gabriel was glad that he’d taken the time to court her through her training, though. Now that he knew her better, he appreciated her passion, her witticisms, her obvious love for her family, her intelligence, and the sweetness that seemed to be built into her very core. Everything about their interactions had demonstrated how well suited they were for each other.
Still, he hadn’t expected this overwhelming rush of emotion now that the time was nigh. In some ways he’d wondered if perhaps his anticipation would render the reality anticlimactic; instead, she’d roused a possessive jealousy and tender awe that he’d never experienced before.
Then again, he’d never taken a wife before.
He’d hated every other man who’d received a smile from her lips, a moment of her shining eyes, or a laugh in return for a quip.
While he knew he couldn’t sensibly keep her from interacting with other members of society, part of him desperately wanted to. For the first time, he was assailed with his own doubts, especially after seeing Marchland’s interest. What if Vivian didn’t find him as appealing as he found her? What if her awakened passions included a desire to test the waters with other lovers?
Throughout his entire life, Gabriel had been selfassured and confident in matters of the bedroom. He’d never had a jealous moment in his life or worried his prowess might not be enough to satisfy a woman.
But, he now realized, he’d never really cared if any previous woman he’d been with had ended their association. He would have easily shrugged and moved on. For the woman who was to be his wife, that wasn’t an option. Not just because of the difference in their relationship, but because of these strange new emotions that had invaded him.
Insecurity was new to him and he didn’t quite know how to deal with it.
He would have to bind her to him in this next week— mind, body, heart, and soul.
The sensation was like a tingling in the back of her neck, one that said she was being watched. Being watched was something she had become accustomed to, because Mrs. Banks was always watching her, but this was different. It was stronger, more disturbing, and impossible to ignore, as if all of her senses were trying to tug her in one direction at once.
Smiling at the matron chattering away in front of her, Vivian tried to shift to the side to see whether or not she was imagining things.
“Lady Cowper,” a deep voice purred behind her, and Vivian’s neck actually did tingle as all the hairs on it lifted at once. “I see you’ve met my fiancée.”
A warm hand engulfed hers and brought it to his lips for a kiss, dark eyes flitting over her face before turning back to the woman in front of her. Lady Cowper beamed with delighted approval at both of them—to Vivian’s relief, not at all put out by her immediate distraction.
“Miss Stafford and I have been getting acquainted,” Lady Cowper said, giving Vivian another approving nod. “I must say, Cranborne, you’ve chosen admirably.” She smiled at Vivian and held out her hand, which Vivian immediately took, although it meant relinquishing the earl’s. “It was delightful to meet you, Miss Stafford. I hope to see a great deal of you after you finish school.” That last comment was accompanied by a look at Lord Cranborne, who let out a resigned sigh and gave a short bow to the lady before she moved away. Vivian couldn’t help but smile; obviously her future husband had the usual male impatience with social events.
But then, why had he shown up at this at-home? Since Mrs. Banks had told her she’d see him again, she’d assumed he’d appear at some point during the week, but certainly not first thing at a Monday tea. And he didn’t seem entirely pleased at Lady Cowper’s implication that she expected to see them at more events fol
lowing the wedding. Or was it just that he preferred at-homes to other social gatherings?
There was so little she knew about this man she was to marry, she thought as she turned to him, looking up at his face. She didn’t know it but her expression was full of curiosity and questions, and she looked to him as if he had the answers. It was exactly the kind of look that called to the deepest, most protective and authoritative parts of him.
“Sunrise,” he said, giving her the special smile he seemed to reserve just for her. Vivian blushed as he retook possession of her hand and settled it upon his arm. “Shall we?”
She nodded and they sallied forth together as a couple, mingling with the others and being shadowed by the everpresent Mrs. Banks.
Interacting with other members of the ton had already been a stark lesson for Vivian in how the practicum differed from reality, although she was very glad for the lessons, for they gave her a confidence and grace she would not have otherwise had. Being on Lord Cranborne’s arm added an entirely new element. He was so very confident, so very masterful, and for the first time, she was attached to power rather than standing back and observing it.
When he spoke, people listened. His opinions mattered. More than that, they influenced others. And he was so very engaging. It was easy to talk with him, both within a group and when he would catch a private moment with her as they walked.
Beautiful women fawned on him, making her feel incredibly insecure, but his stance at her side never wavered. And he took their admiration, their flirtations, as his due, responding with a casual air that nonetheless cut them off at the knees. Men vied for his attention, his approval and advice, and he listened to what they had to say although he wouldn’t always appear to be listening very intently.
With Vivian he was much warmer, much more attentive to what she said. It felt, occasionally, as if he were studying her in the way a child might study a butterfly. Under his gaze she felt fascinating, beautiful, and alive. She didn’t realize how much she was blooming under his attention, that others could see the way he affected her as well. It caused much consternation among the ladies, who had assumed the rakish earl’s marriage would cause no real upset to his usual activities—even if he hadn’t had a mistress in quite a while—and among the men who were starting to see Miss Stafford through the earl’s eyes.
Or, what they imagined were his eyes. But they only saw her beauty, her poise and grace, her wit and pretty manners. None of them saw deeper, to the abiding need within her that craved approval, the natural submissive passion the school was nurturing and that he would bring into flower.
As much as he appreciated the others’ admiration of his future wife, Gabriel also found it harder and harder to rein in his possessive impulses. It wasn’t that he truly took the other women’s attentions as his due; he didn’t notice them because he was too distracted by the woman on his arm. Too wrapped up in ensuring that she didn’t lack his attention or admiration, because he knew that lack of affection from their spouses was what caused most of the women among the ton to seek out other lovers. Although he would never have a mistress to war with his attention as many of their husbands did, he still wanted to ensure that, in this arena, Vivian’s own head wasn’t turned by others’ attentions.
Not until hers were more firmly fixed upon him.
For Vivian, it was a rather glorious visit, other than when she compared her beauty to the women who were constantly trying to converse with the earl. However, she was somewhat reassured by his obvious preference for her company, although they were not able to speak privately once.
She would have liked to get to know him better, personally, rather than just hearing fascinating tidbits in passing reference. She overheard quite a bit of political discourse, as well as his opinion of the latest play, the finest stables for buying horses from at Tattersall’s, and a curricle race he’d driven in a few weeks before. Unfortunately, no one shared details, as it was assumed everyone had already heard the gossip.
So Vivian just smiled and enjoyed hearing about her future husband, fixing in her mind questions for him later when they would have the opportunity to speak privately. Although, if given a choice, she’d prefer to exchange some more kisses before pestering him with questions.
No such private moment occurred that afternoon, but she still thrilled at being seen off to the carriage by him. The other students looked on, envious but excited, as he kissed her hand and helped her into the carriage.
“I look forward to seeing you again,” he murmured, so quietly she knew no one had overheard. It was also so quickly she had no opportunity to respond, but he must know she felt the same.
Dark eyes caught hers for a moment, through the window, before the carriage set off. Vivian knew she would dream about those eyes later.
That evening, Vivian was in for the shock of her life when Mrs. Banks entered her room, at the usual time, followed by the earl himself. She’d begun to stand up from the chair she’d been sitting in before the fire, only to find herself swaying as her stomach dropped and her head actually spun. Seeing her unsteadiness, Gabriel practically leaped forward, crossing the room in a few strides, to clasp his hand about her arm and steady her.
With her head tipped back to stare up at him, soft lips slightly parted in surprise, her pale face and huge green eyes made her look almost fragile. There was a hint of pleasure in her expression as well as the shock faded, and anxiety, and a bit of fear too. The combination caused him to harden immediately, something he was growing quite used to when it came to his bride. Fortunately, tonight he would finally be able to soothe some of his wild need.
“I . . . What—what are you doing here?” Vivian’s tongue felt thick and awkward in her mouth, stumbling over her words as her mind whirled.
Gabriel smiled, his dark eyes glinting in the firelight.
The contrast of his white cravat and shirt against his black coat and dark good looks was dramatic, making him look like sinful temptation personified.
“This is marriage training, Sunrise,” he said, gently but with a thread of satisfaction in his voice. Or was Vivian imagining that second part? “Surely you realized at some point your husband would be a part of it.”
No . . . she hadn’t. She hadn’t thought about it at all, really. Rather naive of her in many ways, but she’d been so focused on her daily activities, working at avoiding too harsh of an evening punishment, that she hadn’t seriously thought about what future training might be like. Things had settled into a routine and she’d assumed it would remain so, until after her wedding.
“I . . . I . . .”
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said soothingly, cupping her chin in his hand and running his thumb over her pouting lower lip. Her trembling slowed, touching him with how trusting she was. How much she looked to him for guidance. She required gentle handling when it came to change, just as Mrs. Banks’s reports had indicated, but it was well worth it to see her reaction to his soothing. It was a gift, and not one that he took for granted. “I’m mostly just going to be watching, I won’t interfere with your normal routine.”
Vivian flushed a beet red, her gaze going beseechingly to Mrs. Banks. The older woman just looked at her blandly, making it obvious she wasn’t going to intervene, and Vivian remembered what the companion had said about the earl’s wishes superseding anyone else’s.
“Good girl,” the earl murmured as her mouth opened and then closed again, obviously cutting off a protest or a plea. The heat in his voice sent a shiver right through her spine, even as warmth flooded her at the accolade. Somehow it seemed to mean even more coming from him than anyone else.
He stepped back, releasing her arm from his hold, and Vivian felt suddenly bereft, her skin still tingling where he’d touched her.
“Come sit down, Miss Stafford,” Mrs. Banks said, interjecting for the first time as she nodded at Vivian’s punishment chair. Her voice was gentle but firm, indicating she had some sympathy for Vivian’s shock but she expected the youn
g woman to behave herself.
With much more wariness and anxiety than usual, Vivian moved to her chair, feeling as though the air had somehow thickened so she was moving in slow motion. Behind her she sensed the earl moving as well, and when she sat he had moved one of her chairs near the fire closer to the punishment chair, facing it. Heat suffused her entire body and she knotted her fingers tightly in her lap, willing herself not to stand and run.
Of course she’d known that one day her husband would be the one in Mrs. Banks’s position—she had even looked forward to it—but even as the weeks passed, “one day” had seemed so far away. She certainly hadn’t expected it to come now, tonight.
Feverishly she wondered if he would be the one to spank her, then remembered he said he’d mostly just be watching. She wasn’t sure whether she felt relieved or disappointed about that. Although, knowing he would be watching excited her somewhat as well.
“Are you paying attention, Miss Stafford?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Vivian said immediately, drawing herself up in her chair and forcing herself to attend to her companion’s lecture. It was not the easiest task, when she could feel the earl’s eyes upon her, but she did not want to earn any extra punishment for the evening. Not with her future husband looking on, and especially not if he would be watching the punishment in question.
For Gabriel it was easy to block out Mrs. Banks’s voice as he studied Vivian at close range, able to look at her and drink his fill of her features—something he wasn’t able to indulge in quite so much during the at-homes. During the day he certainly couldn’t allow his gaze to linger on her bosom or the pulsing of her throat or the way her soft lips parted for her tongue to sweep across them. Now he could look at whatever part of her he wanted, so very close and personal.
She was doing her best to behave, to listen to Mrs. Banks’s lecture, but his presence made her nervous. Of course, he enjoyed knowing he had that effect on her. That knowing he was nearby made her blush and tremble. It would have been very disappointing to him if Vivian had become completely inured by her training and he didn’t have the joy of seeing her questions and hesitations.
