Under A Duke's Hand

by Annabel Joseph

  Gwen started undoing her husband’s clothes, pushing back his coat and unbuttoning his waistcoat. All the garments were discarded posthaste, thrown into a careless pile. “Do you think your friends will want you to share it again?” Gwen asked.

  “What?”

  “I mean, when they tell their wives what sort of garden folly this is... Do you think they will all wish to try it out?”

  Aidan chuckled. “Perhaps. It depends whether they are as depraved as you, my love.”

  “I am not depraved.”

  His chuckle transformed to a laugh. “Tell me that again in five minutes. We’ll see if it’s true.” He led her toward the whipping post. “Raise your hands in surrender, my perfectly demure wife.”

  “I didn’t say I was demure either.”

  He put a finger over her lips. “Enough chatter. While the cuffs are on, you’re not to speak, do you understand? Not unless you’re spoken to.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” The authority in his voice sparked an aching pulse between her legs.

  A few years ago, her husband had commissioned some fine leather cuffs which were now affixed to the pole at her precise height. He still used rope sometimes, if he wanted to give her some leeway to pull and writhe about. He used the cuffs when he wanted her fixed and controlled. She studied his handsome features as he secured her wrists in the restraints. She still found him every bit as beautiful as Jack in the meadow. If anything, he’d improved with age.

  He met her eyes when he finished, his lips curving up in a smile. He had a daunting ability to read her moods and thoughts. He kissed her, simultaneously pulling down on the cuffs to make sure she was secure. When he was satisfied, he smoothed his hands down her arms and to her nape. He took her hair down, pin by pin, until it cascaded down her back. Then he wrapped it around one hand and pushed the lot of it forward over her shoulder.

  She shivered as he caressed her bare back. Please, take me now, she wanted to beg. How wise he was, not to let her speak, for she’d be babbling like a madwoman. I love how you caress me. I love the heat of your body at my back. How strong he seemed, how commanding when he explored her this way. His thick cock poked against her bottom, a delicious threat, although he rarely buggered her except after punishments. Disciplinary sodomizations, as he called them, for naughty wives.

  He made a low sound as he nuzzled her nape. “How good you’re being,” he said. “Not a sound, although I can see you trying to rub your quim against the pole.”

  Oh, yes, she was, although her husband discouraged such lascivious lapses of discipline. He held her waist with one hand and palmed her pussy with the other, thrusting his middle finger deep inside. It slid within her moisture, betraying copious arousal.

  “Not depraved, my sweet?” His laugh was rough and lewd as his touch. “You’re hot enough to burst into flames.”

  She moaned as he stroked her, taking his time, bringing her closer to that peak but not allowing her to reach it. Oh, she wanted his cock inside her now, but she knew he would play with her first, play with her until she was reduced to a needy and desperate puddle of longing. It appealed to the tyrant and sadist in him, to make her wait. To even, occasionally, leave her unsatisfied.

  Goodness, she hoped this wasn’t to be one of those nights. She couldn’t even beg for what she wanted, because he’d taken away her permission to speak.

  And you love it, she thought. His control excites you beyond bearing.

  She heard him rummage in one of the trunks, and shifted from foot to foot. The cool air had her nipples hard as pebbles. She felt his hand on her hair, and then soft fabric against her face. He looped a length of silk around her eyes and tightened it so she couldn’t see. She made a soft pleading sound, wanting to be touched, stroked, anything. She heard rummaging again. No point in turning to look. Not that she ever turned to look, since that only made her more anxious.

  Oh, hurt me, please.

  She felt his palm against her arse. He smacked it a few times, readying her, she knew, for something harder. Then he stood back and dealt her a stinging blow that could only have come from the tawse.

  She shrieked and danced on her toes. It hurt so badly, stung like spreading fire on her cheeks. He gave her four more blows in quick succession, so she thrilled and hurt and nearly jumped out of her skin. Heavy impact, heavy sting. She feared the tawse, for it could be such a brutal implement. She gritted her teeth so she wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t cry out loud for him to stop.

  After the fifth blow, she felt his heat and presence behind her. His thick cock slid between her legs and then thrust strongly into her quim. She struggled in her dark world to reorient herself from pain to pleasure. Another thrust, and another, stretching her in ecstasy, and then he was gone, leaving her empty.

  “No,” she cried, even though he’d forbidden her to speak. Because she knew what was coming. Teasing, and more pain.

  “Hush,” he reminded her, and then the swish and thwack of impact echoed in the marble room. The heat was more intense now, coming on the heels of the too-short respite. Five blows again, as she cried and danced about, going nowhere. Then his cock drove inside her again. She used to be ashamed that such rough play excited her, but not anymore. Oh, oh, oh...

  “You feel that?” he asked, pressing inside her. “Feel how hard I am for you. You want to be fucked, don’t you? You want me to fuck you until you come.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she answered, taking the opportunity to speak, even if she could barely form the words. “Please let me come.”

  “After you take your spanking,” he said. “You know you come much harder and longer after you’ve been properly spanked.”

  She shook her head, and pulled at the cuffs in frustration as he left her again.

  “Please,” she cried out as the tawse resumed its stinging torture.

  Rather than chide her for speaking out of turn, he put his hand over her mouth and gave her a good, steady volley of whacks. She protested against his palm, but oh, it felt so good. It felt intense and scary, and wonderfully liberating, because she was so completely under his control, unable to speak, unable to see. She lost track of how many times he spanked her and fucked her in alternation, never letting her get a foothold on her way to climax.

  She would feel this tomorrow...even though it was play, this sort of spanking would leave bruises. She’d feel it when she walked, and when she sat to tend the children. Whenever she had time alone, she would pull up the back of her skirts and gain perverse pleasure from gazing at the marks in her looking glass. That was the type of duchess she was, for better or worse, and her husband rejoiced in it.

  Especially at times like these.

  “I want you to come now,” he said at last. He placed his hands over the cuffs and thrust inside her, banging his hips against her tender arse. “Come for me, Guinevere. I want it.”

  Nothing triggered her pleasure more reliably than his gruff, insistent commands. Her pelvis contracted, her pussy clenching around his pounding shaft. He drew rigid behind her, with a jerk and a long groan. His final thrust nearly lifted her from the floor. The cuffs rattled on their chains as he held her close, sighing contentedly against her ear.

  She didn’t speak yet. She wished to be a good wife and obey his directions, so she waited until he removed her blindfold and released her from the cuffs. Then she turned to him and threw her arms around his neck.

  “I love you,” she said. “I love you. I love you. And that really hurt.”

  She reached one hand behind her to rub away the sting that remained, but of course, Aidan stopped her.

  “You know better,” he said, clasping her wrist. “Perhaps we ought to begin all over again with a real punishment, if you’ll disregard my rules.”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “I’ll be good.”

  She put her arm back around his neck and hugged him, unwilling to break the connection that came from this intense sort of play. After a moment, he lifted her so she was eye-to-eye with him at his prodigious
height.

  “Say it again,” he prompted. “I like those words.”

  “I’ll be good?”

  “No, the other words.”

  “I love you.” She hugged him tighter, pressing a kiss against his ear. “I love you. I love you.”

  She drew back and gazed at him, the fairy queen and her king in their marble temple. His hands smoothed over her back and cupped her bottom with a tender grip.

  “I love you too, Gwen,” he whispered. “I’ll love you forever.”

  And for that, she’d always be his perfect, obedient duchess.

  Ask the heavens for what your heart wants. In her case, someone had answered. Someone tall and commanding, and sometimes a bit lofty, with a Viking marauder smile.

  THE END

  A Final Note

  Endings are always bittersweet. I’ve had a blast writing about these four gentlemen in 1790’s England, and if you’ve read all four of the Properly Spanked novels, thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting the whole saga. I hope you found something in each novel to love.

  But maybe this isn’t the end. Wouldn’t it be great if all those children in the Epilogue grew up and had adventures, and maybe even paired up romantically around 1820 or so? Hmm, that would be pretty fun. We’ll see.

  If you enjoyed Training Lady Townsend, To Tame A Countess, My Naughty Minette, and Under A Duke’s Hand, I would be eternally grateful for a review or a recommendation to a naughty-minded friend. Your reviews and encouragement are so helpful, and keep me motivated to sit in the chair every day and give you my best work. I also love to hear from my readers at annabeljosephnovels@gmail.com.

  Many thanks to my beta readers for this series: GC, Janine, Tiffany, Tasha L. Harrison, and Doris. Thanks also to my editors, Audrey K., and Lina Sacher of Lina Edits. Huge, huge thanks to Kate at Bad Star Media for designing a quartet of luscious historical covers.

  In closing, I’d like to apologize for the fact that you will never look at ginger the same way again.

  Coming Soon

  A steamy bodyguard romance from

  Annabel’s alter ego, Molly Joseph:

  PAWN (Ironclad Bodyguards #1)

  High stakes chess competition has always been a man’s game—until Grace Ann Frasier topples some of the game’s greatest champions and turns the chess world on its ear. Her prowess at the game is matched only by her rivals’ desire to defeat her, or, worse, avenge their losses. When an international championship threatens Grace’s safety, a bevy of security experts are hired to look after her, but only one is her personal, close-duty bodyguard, courtesy of Ironclad Solutions, Inc.

  Sam Knight knows nothing about chess, but he knows Grace is working to achieve something important, and he vows to shelter her from those who mean her harm. In the course of his duties, he realizes there’s more going on than a simple chess match between rivals, and his fragile client is all too aware of the stakes. When she leans on him for emotional support, attraction battles with professionalism and Sam finds his self-discipline wavering. Soon the complexity of their relationship resembles a chess board, where one questionable move can ruin everything—or win a game that could resonate around the world.

  Other Historical Romance by Annabel Joseph

  Disciplining the Duchess

  Over five seasons, Miss Harmony Barrett has managed to repel every gentleman of consequence and engineer a debacle at Almack’s so horrifying that her waltzing privileges are revoked. If she’s not in the library reading about Mongol hordes, she’s embarrassing her family or getting involved in impulsive scrapes.

  Enter the Duke of Courtland, a man known for his love of duty and decorum. Through a vexing series of events, he finds himself shackled to Miss Barrett in matrimony. But all is not lost. The duke harbors a not-so-secret affinity for spanking and discipline…and his new wife is ever in need of it. Will the mismatched couple find their way to marital happiness? Or will the duke be forever Disciplining the Duchess?

  Lily Mine

  When Lily wends her way down the country lane to Lilyvale Manor, she hopes the coincidence of names bodes well, for she is in dire straits. She’s been disowned by her London family and finds herself desperately in need of a job.

  Lord Ashbourne is equally at ends, his fiancée having jilted him for a commoner and run off to the Continent. Her powerful society family is determined to delay the breaking scandal in order to save the younger sister's prospects. When a servant leads Lily to his parlor, James is astonished to discover how closely she resembles the missing lady of the manor.

  He hatches a plan, convincing Lily to play his absent “wife” to keep the gossips at bay. He reassures her it will be in name only, but soon enough, playacting turns to real attraction, and friendship to aching, mounting desire. The strictures of society and unforeseen tragedy combine to test the pair's forbidden love, even as they are driven ever closer into one another's arms…

  Cait and the Devil

  The young maiden Cait has always lived a simple, secluded life in the Scottish woods. Then, in her eighteenth year, she is summoned to Aberdeen and informed with cruel disdain that she is the unwanted daughter of the king. To deal with this “problem,” Cait is forced to marry a forbidding stranger, Duncan, the Devil of Inverness, who has already buried one wife.

  She travels to the Devil’s castle reluctantly, in dread, and Duncan is none too pleased to welcome the pale, dark-haired creature as his wife. But the two soon realize they are more perfectly matched than either suspected. His deep desire to dominate and discipline his new wife is matched only by her bravery and willingness to submit to his perverse demands and desires.

  But a phantom threat stalks Cait, and Duncan is troubled by her secret and mysterious past. Can Duncan protect his vulnerable wife? Will their powerful and unusual brand of love prevail?

  Other books by Annabel Joseph

  Mercy

  Cait and the Devil

  Firebird

  Owning Wednesday

  Lily Mine

  Disciplining the Duchess

  The Edge of the Earth (as Molly Joseph)

  Pawn (as Molly Joseph)

  Fortune series:

  Deep in the Woods

  Fortune

  Comfort series:

  Comfort Object

  Caressa’s Knees

  Odalisque

  Command Performance

  Cirque Masters series:

  Cirque de Minuit

  Bound in Blue

  Master’s Flame

  Mephisto series:

  Club Mephisto

  Molly’s Lips: Club Mephisto Retold

  Burn For You

  BDSM Ballet series:

  Waking Kiss

  Fever Dream

  Properly Spanked series:

  Training Lady Townsend

  To Tame A Countess

  My Naughty Minette

  Under A Duke’s Hand

  About the Author

  Annabel Joseph is a multi-published, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling BDSM romance author. She writes mainly contemporary romance, although she has been known to dabble in the medieval and Regency eras. She is recognized for writing emotionally intense BDSM storylines, and strives to create characters that seem real—even flawed—so readers are better able to relate to them. Annabel also writes vanilla (non-BDSM) erotic romance under the pen name Molly Joseph.

  Annabel Joseph loves to hear from her readers at annabeljosephnovels@gmail.com. You can learn more about Annabel and sign up for her newsletter at annabeljoseph.com.

 

 

 
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