by Golden Angel
While she didn’t fully understand why a bite of pain made her pleasure so much more intense, why it aroused her so, there was no denying the reaction. Gabriel amused himself for a moment, tugging and pulling on the rosy tips of her nipples, making her arch forward with little whimpers.
“Please . . . Please . . .”
“Please what, sweetness? Tell me what you need.” Gabriel twisted those rosy little buds, watching as Vivian shuddered above him. One day he would be able to spend all afternoon tormenting the tempting swells in front of him, but not tonight. Tonight he wanted to reward her. He knew prolonging the time before her climax would make it that much more intense, especially if her delightful nips had been attended to, but he didn’t want to make her wait so long that it became a punishment.
Still, he wanted Vivian to admit what she wanted, needed from him. And if it made her face turn a delightful pink to match the pink of her well-spanked bottom, then all the better.
“I . . . I . . .” Vivian closed her eyes. Her voice lowered to a pleading whisper, horrified he was going to make her speak her desires out loud. “Please, I—I need to . . .” Her voice went even lower, to the barest thread of a whisper. “I need to climax.”
Gabriel pinched her nipples tightly again. “Look at me, sweetness.” He was met with pleading eyes, and a pink blush that went from her cheeks all the way down to her collarbone. It was quite enchanting. He smiled. “Ask and you shall receive.”
Pulling her forward, Gabriel brought her mouth to his, kissing her deeply. To his delight Vivian sank into the kiss eagerly. As she was shorter than him, her position on his lap put their lips on the exact same level, allowing him to easily fondle and kiss her to his heart’s delight.
One hand continued to caress and squeeze the soft flesh of her breast while the other went between her legs. He groaned in her mouth as his fingers plunged between her folds, finding her soaking wet with cream. Vivian whimpered against his lips, her body wriggling on top of him, eager and needy. Already his cock was hardening again as he slid one long finger inside her molten heat.
His mouth devoured hers, ravished hers. And his hands . . . God, his hands. The sensations he elicited were exquisite. Shattering. Her nipples still thrummed with the sting of his rough treatment, yet she found herself craving it now that he was being more gentle.
The thick finger pushing inside her stretched her muscles deliciously. Her thighs tightened around his as the heel of his hand rocked against her clitoris. Vivian found herself moving atop him, rocking against him as if he were a horse and his hand the saddle. It was better than any of the half-formed fantasies that she’d engineered during her time at the school—more dangerous, more desperate. Indeed, she was absolutely desperate for his touch, his mouth, his approval.
And he did seem to approve.
When his hand left her breast she only had a moment to be disappointed before it had slid down behind her. He gripped one tender buttock, making her yelp against his lips before he pulled her body roughly into his. Fingers worked busily between her thighs as she rubbed herself against him, her sensitive nipples raking across the fabric of his coat, emphasizing his clothed state against her nakedness. It was domination of both physicality and mentality that she didn’t consciously realize, but that her body immediately recognized.
Vivian’s head fell backwards as he released her mouth. Every inch of her skin was on fire, from the stinging heat of her punished bottom, to the fiery passion between her legs, to the tendrils of flame that licked her senses as Gabriel bent and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. It was the perfect storm of combined sensations to send her careening over the edge.
She writhed against him, sobbing as the powerful release overtook her body, sending her senses reeling. It was almost too intense to bear, and if she could have begged him to stop, to let her be for a moment, she would have. Instead, all she could do was cry out helplessly as he tugged and twisted on the plug in her bottom, grinded his hand against the wet folds of her cunt, and sucked hard on the proud pink nipple that filled his mouth. Vivian would have fallen from his lap if it hadn’t been for his secure hold on her, her passionate writhing making him tighten his grip wherever he held her.
Sobbing, her body bent and arched as wave after wave of passion spent itself. Unlike Mrs. Banks, Gabriel did not stop or slow as she climaxed. If anything his attentions increased, and the peak of her ecstasy broke only to give way to another.
Hot liquid splashed against her stomach as her undulations rubbed her body against Gabriel’s cock, and he spent himself for the second time. He would have been embarrassed at his loss of control, but Vivian was too beautiful, too passionate in her responses to him, and he doubted any other man would have fared any better. Seeing her climax for him had been the most gorgeous sight he’d ever beheld, one he knew he would strive for again and again and again. Not that it seemed like it would be difficult.
His efforts exhausted and overwhelmed her. Reluctantly he slowed his movements, allowing for a natural descent down from the heights of ecstasy he’d driven her to. Her cheeks were wet with tears again, her lips swollen, and her face flushed. Both of her nipples stood out proudly on her chest, reddened from his treatment of them.
It burned him that he couldn’t take her home with him this very evening.
Still, he got a certain amount of satisfaction out of caring for her. Vivian clung to him sweetly as he untied her wrists and soothed the skin beneath the scarf she’d been bound with, cleaned her belly and thighs of the evidence of their passions, and picked her up to tuck her into bed. Her lashes fluttered sleepily as he drew the covers up around her and he had to fight back the impulse to climb in with her.
If he did he’d never leave.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
A sleepy smile curved Vivian’s lips even though her eyes were already closed, and he pressed a soft kiss to them, tasting her for one last time before he forced himself to quit the room.
Mrs. Banks was waiting on the other side of the door for him, forcing him to compose himself and keeping him from returning to the room, as a part of him yearned to do. Straightening herself up as he exited, the companion smiled with encouragement, dispelling any awkwardness in the air.
“I hope you found everything to your satisfaction, my lord.”
“Very much so,” he said, his mind’s eye already going back to the intimacies he’d just exchanged with his future bride and those he was imagining for the future. “Thank you for your assistance.”
“It was my pleasure,” she said, as she walked with him down the hall. “If you’ll accompany me to Mrs. Cunningham’s office we can go over the pace of the transition for the rest of the week. Miss Stafford seems to accept your presence eagerly, so I see no reason why we shouldn’t hasten to have you completely in charge of her evening punishment by the end of this week.”
Well pleased, Gabriel followed without hesitation.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
VIVIAN WAS A BUNDLE OF JUMBLED NERVES when she heard the Earl of Cranborne being announced at the at-home she was attending the next day. Immediately her face flushed a bright red, as it had been doing at intermittent intervals all day, whenever she thought about the events of the evening prior. Once she’d woken up and the images had come flooding back into her mind, she’d thought she’d die of embarrassment on the spot.
How could she face him again?
He’d touched her so intimately and she’d behaved so wantonly in response. While she’d become rather used to Mrs. Banks seeing her in such vulnerable states, it was completely different when there was a man there. Even if he obviously enjoyed what he’d seen.
Now, as she turned to face her future husband, the man who had seen her completely unclothed and had put his hands and mouth on her body, she wished she could sink into the ground. Could anyone tell? Would anyone look at them and know?
“Good afternoon, Sunrise,” he said, stepping in front o
f her and bringing her hand to his lips. Realizing his broad shoulders blocked the sight of her flaming cheeks from the rest of the gathering, and his words did not indicate any change in his regard of her, Vivian felt her tension unwinding.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said, falling back on the courtesies of society. Indeed, it seemed the social niceties were designed to help smooth over awkward moments such as this. “Lovely weather today, is it not?”
The earl’s dark eyes glinted with approval, and Vivian felt her embarrassment fade even further. “Quite lovely, although I must confess it could be storming outside and I’m not sure I would notice right now.”
Vivian’s cheeks flushed again, although for a very different reason this time. The compliment thrilled her, as did the obvious appreciation in the earl’s eyes. It seemed almost as though they were sharing a private joke, in the midst of all these people, who had no idea what they had done the previous evening. Like a secret between bosom friends, it made her feel closer to him than she’d ever felt before.
She hadn’t been sure what to expect from him today, what he might say or do, but it seemed their evening was to remain completely private. Under the eyes of society, their behavior was completely unremarkable, rather enjoyable to watch in fact, as society always tittered over love matches—which the Earl of Cranborne’s was now rumored to be, despite the fact the papers had been signed long before his bride had been seen with him in society. The earl’s disinterest in the women who were continuing to pursue him, as well as his behavior towards Vivian during the at-homes, was spurring quite a bit of new speculation. Originally the match had seemed completely arranged, considering the age of the bride and the fact that she was still in school and had not yet been presented; no one had expected him to change his patterns of behavior for her. Instead it appeared that his bride had captured his attention and possibly his heart.
Although his stepmother and his younger sisters had informed him of the gossip, it wasn’t something Gabriel was particularly interested in. He did not feel that he knew his future bride well enough to say he loved her. When he’d first met her, her submissive nature had called to him and he’d wanted her. The sweetness he’d seen had captured his attention. Knowing he was expected to marry, and so far had not found a woman that he’d be satisfied to have as a wife, he’d made the decision then and there that Vivian would be his.
During her training he’d become obsessed with her sexually—little wonder no other woman snared his attention, although he would not have dishonored Vivian even if one had. That was not his way; he had committed himself and he would stay committed. Having sampled a large banquet of women, he was now quite happy to settle down with the dish that appealed to him the most.
So far Vivian was everything he’d hoped for and more. But did he love her? Gabriel had never been in love before, although he certainly had loved women in general. Vivian was different, though. He felt far more attached to, maybe even obsessed with, her than he ever had been with any other woman. He’d explained it to himself as a response to her position as his future wife, but it felt far more intimate than that. The idea of losing her, of her changing her mind about marrying him, made him feel quite wild. For the first time in his life, he no longer felt as though he had all the power in a relationship with his woman. She submitted to him, but if she wanted to, she could easily bring him to his knees.
Watching her slowly calm under his approval and easy conversation, he was again reminded of what a natural, wonderful fit she was with him. She glowed when she saw him approving of her behavior. The effect he had on her only increased his desire for her; that he could arouse and calm her, that she looked to him for precedent and guidance, and that she trusted him already.
He was so enthralled by just being near her that he didn’t notice Lord Marchland’s approach until it was too late.
“Miss Stafford,” said the handsome rake, bowing over her hand.
Gabriel had to stifle the impulse to snarl and snatch his bride’s fingers away from the reprobate. While there were plenty of rakes and willing ladies within the ton,there were also rules surrounding the seduction of said ladies. Only the worst of the worst seduced true innocents, which Vivian obviously was. However, wives were fair game. As Gabriel’s betrothed, Marchland’s advances could follow one of two agendas—either trying to entice Vivian away from Gabriel, or setting the foundation for a seduction after she was married.
Like Gabriel, Marchland had never lowered himself to seducing the innocent young misses that flooded the marriage mart every year, and he seemed in no hurry to settle down, so Gabriel’s money was on the latter motivation.
“Lord Marchland,” said Vivian, with a little dip of her skirts. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Not nearly as pleasurable as it is to see you,” returned the smiling rake.
It took all of Gabriel’s considerable willpower not to forcibly remove that smarmy grin. Fortunately for everyone involved, Vivian had smoothly recovered her hand and placed it back atop the one already resting on Gabriel’s arm. It was almost like she was clinging to him, he thought, with a small spurt of pleasure.
“Marchland,” he said sharply, combining his greeting with warning. Beside him, Vivian stirred and peered up at him with those fathomless green eyes.
“Cranborne.”
The other man sounded amiable, almost cheerful, as if he knew exactly the effect his presence was having on Gabriel’s peace of mind and was amused by it.
“I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Lady Hawthorne,” Gabriel said, referring to their worthy host.
“My grandmother is a good friend,” said Lord Marchland with a shrug. “And when the old dragon beckons, a good grandson must do his duty.” He smiled at Vivian, as if inviting her to share a private joke, and Gabriel coughed to cover his instinctive snarl.
“That is very good of you, to try and make your grandmother happy,” Vivian said, giving him only the slightest of smiles back.
Although the earl’s face gave away nothing, she could feel the tension practically vibrating through him and she knew he didn’t like Lord Marchland. It seemed to calm him whenever she would touch him; unfortunately, there was only so much she could do within the bounds of propriety. Perhaps if Mrs. Banks hadn’t been hovering on the edge of her awareness she might have been bolder, but she was already clinging to Gabriel’s arm in an attempt to help calm him.
She realized with a start that, for the first time, she’d thought of her husband by his first name. And it had felt entirely natural.
The revelation made her smile brilliantly up at him, completely missing the little conversation gambit that Lord Marchland was making. The demonstration of obvious affection for her future husband left him beaming back at her, while Lord Marchland frowned in surprise. Although he’d heard rumors that the match was one of affection, he hadn’t truly believed the rumors might have merit until now.
After that, the conversation was quickly over and Gabriel and Vivian were on their way to speak with some of the other guests of the house.
As they walked, Vivian leaned closer to Gabriel.
“Why don’t you like Lord Marchland?” she asked. Immediately Gabriel’s face darkened and she almost regretted asking the question. Although nothing could take away from his handsome face, he was almost frightening when the storm clouds gathered on his countenance.
“He’s a rake, a rogue, and a scoundrel,” Gabriel said in a low voice.
A little smile flitted across Vivian’s lips, she couldn’t help it. “I’ve heard the same about you, my lord,” she teased.
“Ah, but I’m about to be married, so I’m reformed. And my stepmother has informed me that reformed rakes make the best husbands,” he teased back, enjoying the way Vivian giggled. She shook her head up at him.
“And I was never in need of reforming, so what does it matter what Lord Marchland does?”
The storm clouds gathered again and Gabriel dragged Vivian int
o an alcove with only a quick look around to see that no one was watching. Only Mrs. Banks had her eyes on them, and he knew the companion would see to it that they weren’t interrupted.
“You will stay away from Marchland, sweet. No,” he said, more forcibly as she started to open her mouth to speak. “There are certain men you should stay away from because they would want to persuade you to intimacies. The kind of intimacies only you and I should share.” He cupped Vivian’s cheek, stroking the soft skin gently with his thumb. “And some of them, if they couldn’t persuade you, might resort to force. I will protect you, but you must never be alone with anyone you do not know or that I have told you to stay away from. And you will stay away from Lord Marchland or I will take my belt to your bottom.”
Then he kissed her, with all the pent-up possessiveness and aggression he was feeling. He knew he shouldn’t, but he trusted in Mrs. Banks to keep them from being seen for at least a few moments and he needed to taste Vivian. To claim her. To imprint himself on her lips.
When he released her again, Vivian’s head and emotions were whirling. The idea that other men would want to do those same things she had done with Gabriel last night was surprising. The idea they might try to force her to do so was more than a bit unnerving; having been held in Gabriel’s arms and on his lap, she was well aware that she was much softer and weaker than the men around her. But she hadn’t imagined any of them would want another man’s wife.
The earl’s obvious desire for her to share those intimacies with no one but him made her feel quite warm inside, but it had also sparked a new thought.
“My lord,” she said, snagging his arm before he could lead her out of the alcove again. “I know what a rake—I mean . . . that you have had intimacies . . . Ah . . .” She blushed a deep red as she tried to get out the words.
