by Debra Glass
His thumb brushed her bottom lip, startling her. She hadn’t expected it.
“Easy, love,” he murmured. “You know what’s going to happen.”
That was just it. She did know. All too well.
Touching her bare wrist, he moved behind her and Patience luxuriated in the feel of his heat radiating against her back. He began to unfasten the row of buttons on her dress. That same heat warmed her skin as he bared it.
Big hands pushed the fabric from her shoulders, down her arms, freeing her from the heavy gown. It whispered down her legs and crumpled around her ankles. Next, he removed the light corset she wore and her chemise. She was naked except for her thigh-high stockings and slippers. A white-hot tremor of anticipation shook her to the core.
His hands skimmed her hips as he kneeled and then carefully rolled each stocking down, removing it and her slipper at the same time. First one and then the other.
Patience wet her dry lips with the tip of her tongue as he took her hand and led her out of the pile of discarded clothing. He turned her around so that she could no longer tell where she was in her own room.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he said. His voice was rough.
Patience did as she was told even though panic surged. How could she willingly submit to this?
Once again, he was behind her, hot and big and male, binding her wrists with a second scarf. His body was so close she could feel the hard bulge in his trousers against her palms. She stiffened as he rocked his hips toward her, pressing his arousal into her hands. “Do you feel what the sight of your naked body does to me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, her voice unnaturally high-pitched.
His mouth pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck and then trailed its way to her ear. “I can do anything I want to you right now,” he threatened, tugging the scarf around her wrists for emphasis.
Patience felt as if the breath had been snatched from her lungs.
“I can touch your body,” he said, moving his palms over her bare shoulders, down her sides and around to lightly brush her abdomen.
She tensed.
“I can explore you,” he said, dipping one finger into the cleft to tease her swollen clitoris.
Patience wanted to rock into his hand, to spread for him. Instead, she remained stock-still.
A protest died on her lips when his hand moved around her hip to her bottom where a persistent finger wriggled between her arse cheeks. “Everywhere,” he uttered. Another hand splayed across her abdomen and pushed her back toward the threatening fingertip which flicked against her most private recess. Her clitoris throbbed.
“Bend over,” he commanded. It was not a request.
Channel clenching wildly, Patience bent. She would have wilted were it not for his hand still bracing her abdomen. That same hand crept up until one of her breasts was in his palm and his fingers were locked greedily on her nipple. She heard herself moan.
“Spread your legs,” he told her.
She could hardly swallow as she inched her feet apart.
His warm hand cupped her mons. She trembled. Her tied hands fisted. Touch me. Yes there. Oh God—
As soon as his fingers brushed her clitoris, he removed his hand and began stroking her backside.
This was utter torture. What she had been thinking?
“You’re terribly alluring bent this way, with your hands tied and your treasures exposed to me,” he said.
Patience heard his words but all she could concentrate on were the fingers kneading her nipple and the palm rubbing circles on her bottom. And then, to her horror, she heard herself giving voice to the unthinkable. “I’m very naughty.”
His hands stilled, but only for a fraction of a second.
“Naughty, eh?” Amusement played in his voice.
“Very,” she said for emphasis. Oh God…
His hands left her body and she ached once more for their warmth. “Stand,” he said.
As she straightened, his fingers curled around her arm and she stumbled as he half-dragged her across the room.
“James—” she blurted but her protest lodged in her throat as she was whirled about. She grunted as she abruptly found herself bent over her husband’s knees.
“Do you know what happens to ladies who are naughty?” he asked. He was breathless. His hand moved over her bottom, grabbing, squeezing, stroking.
Patience wanted to spread her legs and beg him to knead her there the way she’d kneaded herself last night.
His other hand found her breast and once more, his fingers locked on her nipple. She moaned. Blindfolded, every sensation was far more intense—far more personal.
His palm left her backside and before Patience knew what was happening, a stinging slap fell on one side of her rump. She yelped. Heat flooded her, radiating from the wild sensations coursing from where he’d spanked her. She shook, hoping beyond hope, he wouldn’t stop with just the one blow.
She squirmed on his lap, raising her bottom to indicate she wanted more. When she’d underlined the passage, she thought she’d needed to be punished for what she’d done the night before. She’d thought this would assuage her guilt. Instead, she was now mindless. All coherent thought slipped away until there was only this primal physical sensation that reduced her a willing, submissive slave—his slave.
His palm popped her again and she sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Harder,” she told him. The voice was not her own and yet it was.
Her shoulders burned. Her nails dug into her palms. The scarf cut into her wrists. Patience didn’t care. The distinction between pain and pleasure blurred. She was mindless. Crazy. Wild with the need to simply feel.
James rubbed the reddened cheek of her arse. He couldn’t believe she wanted more. He hadn’t expected her reaction to be so…favorable. No stranger to boudoir games, he’d participated in his share of slap-and-tickle relations, but not one woman had ever seemed to require it the way Patience did.
Tied and blindfolded, stretched across his lap with her rump in the air, she was erotically beautiful. Her toes dug into the plush carpet and she pushed her bottom higher. He brushed the damp curls between her legs before he slapped her bum again.
This time, she let out an almost animalistic moan. James’s cock throbbed. He could fuck her right now and she would welcome the invasion.
Fucking her had not been a part of the passage she’d underlined, however.
He clenched his teeth. Damn the passage! Damn the agreement! Everything inside him compelled him to bend her over the chair and drive his cock into her and just when he was about to do just that, she said, “Don’t stop, James. Punish me.”
His resolve wilted. How could he deny her? Again and again, his palm found its target. His hand stung and he knew her backside had to be on fire and yet, she continued to push higher. Her moans deepened and the tension melted from her limbs. Her head dropped against his thigh and if he hadn’t been watching her face, he never would have heard her when her lips whispered the word, “Stop.”
His hand fell in mid-stride and instead of pummeling her further he began to work loose the knot around her wrists. After freeing her hands, he pulled the blindfold off and cradled her naked body into his lap.
She did not protest but instead, buried her face in the curve of his neck and drew her knees up to her chest. Her hands fisted underneath her chin and James was suddenly struck with the realization that Patience was far more vulnerable and fragile than he had ever guessed.
The edgy desire he’d felt earlier transformed into raw sympathy. She didn’t move for at least a half hour and James was content to hold her. When he finally brushed a loose strand of her hair away from her cheek, she opened her eyes and looked at him.
James did not know what to say. He attempted a little smile but he couldn’t even do that.
Patience’s eyes searched his. “Will you…will you…I’m ready,” she struggled to say.
Once again, James was struck with the stark an
d dismaying realization that she wasn’t really ready—no matter what she said. She only agreed because she thought he needed to be pacified. And oh, did he need to be pacified! But not tonight. And not this way.
She’d revealed something about herself to him tonight. It was something James didn’t quite understand but his admiration for his wife prevented him from taking advantage of her.
“That would be against our agreement,” James said gently, while inside he chided himself. Simpleton. Fuck her!
Her bottom lip protruded in the most convincing pout James had ever seen. He traced her mouth with his thumb, overcome with the driving desire to kiss her. Somehow, he resisted. His fingers trailed up and down her silky thigh. “If that is what you want, then you must indicate it in a book.”
She stared for a moment longer, nodded once and then she nuzzled her face back into his neck.
James dropped his head onto the back of the chair. Damn! She’d offered! Why couldn’t he accept it? He tried to reason it out in his mind. His refusal was nothing more than gut instinct. He relied on that same instinct in his business dealings and he never questioned it. Why did he question it now?
He wanted her beyond reason but what purpose would it serve to take her when she wasn’t really ready? He sighed. Her actions tonight had shown him that it was imperative for her to be certain—not to blurt that she was ready because she feared what he thought.
He cradled her head close. “I want you to be certain, love,” he cooed. “Totally, completely, utterly certain.”
Her fist unfurled against his linen shirt.
“Do you agree?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good,” he said. “Close your eyes, darling. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”
* * * * *
When Patience awakened the next morning, she stretched, sensing the smooth softness of the sheets against her skin. She’d slept so well she didn’t remember going to bed. And then, all at once, the memory of what had transpired the night before swept over in a hot, shame-filled wave.
Gasping, she lifted the covers to discover she was completely naked. What would Wanda think if she discovered her in this condition? This situation was intolerable.
Abruptly, Patience sat. Humiliated at her own behavior, she buried her face in her hands. Oh no. She’d practically begged him—again! Regret surged. But it was worse. She had begged him to spank her.
The memory caused her sex to swell and throb. She ached for a repeat performance. For more.
“No! No!” She shook her head, trying to shake free the torrid memories. What kind of licentious harlot had she become? What would Mrs. Killian say if she could see her now? Awakening naked? Thinking impure thoughts—even during the daylight hours?
Tears welled but Patience batted them away. She had expected to receive some sort of absolution from her punishment. Instead, having her eyesight robbed of her and her control stripped away while James had delivered slap after stinging slap to her bottom had made her so acutely aroused, she would have willingly allowed him to do anything he wanted to her.
Hugging her arms over her bare and still-tender breasts, she skittered out of the bed and across the room to retrieve her nightgown. No sooner had she slipped it over her head, Wanda’s knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Patience called.”
With a quick, quiet greeting, Wanda went immediately to her tasks of opening the drapes and then selecting Patience’s gown for the day.
Servants were well aware of what went on between newlyweds but Patience trembled at the thought of Wanda’s imagination running rampant. Of course, Wanda had no idea of had really happened last night.
As if magnetically, Patience’s gaze was drawn to the chair where James had bent her over his knee—to where he’d spanked her and tweaked her nipple to the point of soreness. And where he’d held and comforted and caressed her until she’d fallen asleep.
Something strange and sinuous unfurled inside her when she recalled that particular intimate moment. But the act of allowing—asking—permitting him to spank her curiously seemed to require less courage from her than letting him hold her. Why?
“Lord Somerset requests you join him for breakfast this morning,” Wanda said.
Does he? Patience’s pulse accelerated at the thought of facing him. Maybe he would end this silly charade. Hopefully, she thought darkly, he would want to continue it.
Patience bit her bottom lip as she eyed the box of books awaiting her perusal. The muscles in her thighs tightened as she thought of selecting yet another passage.
Would she summon the nerve to allow him to take her? Heat blazed between her legs as she imagined his phallus breaching her defenses and plunging home. Would it hurt—or would she derive ecstasy from the invasion as she had from the thorough spanking she’d taken?
The books detailed all sorts of positions. Most, Patience had never dreamed were possible. What lady would or could consent to straddling a man and riding him as men rode their mounts? What self-respecting woman would get on her hands and knees to take a man inside her like a beast in the field?
She swallowed hard. There were also portions of the books that spoke of blatant sodomy. Men tonguing women to bliss and women taking pricks into their mouths. Worse, some of the stories involved sodomy. Patience’s own rosebud burned with anticipation when she imagined James invading her there.
Of course, she could never consent to it…but what if…what if he simply took it? What if she chose such a passage?
“Egad, Lady Somerset!” Wanda exclaimed as she readied Patience’s shift. “You’re flushed. Are you unwell?”
“I’m quite all right,” Patience told her as she wriggled out of her nightgown and into the shift. She hoped to God Wanda didn’t see the red welts that surely striped her bum.
It was a half hour before Patience was fully dressed and coifed and ready to go down to breakfast.
As she walked down the carpeted hallway, her heart raced faster and faster. She pressed her palm to her chest as if she could prevent the organ from drumming its way out. What was happening to her? She could not find her bearings and heaven knew she could not drive these immoral thoughts from her mind.
Apprehension gnawed at her insides. She dismissed her reaction as silly. She’d enjoyed James’s company when they were courting. She’d looked forward to his visits. But even his proposal had been predictable. He’d never so much as ventured to hold her hand, even less to kiss her as he had on their wedding night. He’d treated her the way a gentleman was supposed to treat a proper lady.
But last night…
She shook her head as if she could dislodge the lurid memories.
How ridiculous she was being! Her husband had been and would continue to be a gentleman. He had always behaved as such…with one exception.
By the time she entered the breakfast room, her pulse was pounding and her mouth was so dry she could hardly swallow.
Upon seeing her, James shot to his feet. The color of his eyes transformed before her very sight, turning a glittering shade of black that wound through her being reminding her starkly of what she’d done last night. When he didn’t smile, Patience’s stomach turned a somersault.
“Good morning,” he said, huskily. The knowing gleam in his gaze only added to her embarrassment and confusion.
Never, in her entire well-ordered life, had she felt as if she’d been turned upside down and shaken until all her common sense toppled out.
“Good morning,” she greeted.
When James moved around to pull her chair out for her, Patience bristled with the thing between them that had been building since their first night as man and wife. He was so close she could feel his energy, his heat. She could breathe in the clean, male fragrance of him. And just when she wanted to close her eyes and revel in these feelings that so tormented and tantalized her, he pushed her chair in and a servant appeared suddenly at her side to place her napkin across her lap.<
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After the rest of meal was brought out and uncovered, James began to eat heartily. Although the food smelled wonderful, Patience hardly had any appetite.
“What would you say to a turn around Hyde Park this afternoon?” he asked so jovially Patience wondered if he remembered what had happened last night.
Still, she knew that unlike most of the ladies and gentlemen in London, James rarely enjoyed frivolities such as carriage rides through the park. Instead, he quietly managed his estate and his vast holdings. She recognized his effort to please her. “I’d like that very much,” she said.
James’s dark eyes grew even darker. “That means you will have to select a passage for me earlier than usual. Say, noon?”
Patience boldly held his gaze. He did remember. “Noon it is,” she whispered.
Chapter Five
“I haven’t yet read the passage you underlined for me this morning,” James said once the carriage was under way.
Lips parted in surprise, Patience peered at him from beneath her lace-trimmed bonnet.
James hadn’t read the book on purpose. He hadn’t wanted to know what Patience had planned before their outing this afternoon. Still, anticipation nagged at him. Surely after last night, she had decided to consummate the marriage. Surely!
He’d pondered the situation into the wee hours of the morning. Obviously, Patience didn’t fear the pain associated with losing her virginity. Last night had proved that. She’d come alive when he’d spanked her. His cock stirred at the memory of her bent over his lap with her hands bound behind her. She’d pushed her bottom higher and spread her legs, urging him on. Warmth trickled downward inside him despite the biting chill in the air.
“Shall we take a turn about Rotten Row?” the driver called from his seat.
“That would be splendid,” James told him.
“I’ve always wondered why they call this Rotten Row,” Patience mused as she gazed at the winter-brown grass and skeletal trees.
James chuckled. “Because of the rotten bastards who ride up and down it.”
Patience laughed and the sight of her face alight caused James’s heart to swell. “Really, James.”
