“Is that it? Have we coupled now?” She couldn’t imagine things going any further. “Is that the end?”
“It’s just the beginning.” He kissed her and withdrew, then surged inside her again. His mouth’s hot, sultry caress, along with his force, created the most confusing mishmash of feelings. It felt pleasant and exciting, but scary too. He began to move into her with a languorous, steady rhythm, in and out, shallow, and then deep. She tried to follow his rhythm and meet his thrusts, but everything was too strange.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“Not very much. It feels...” She licked her kissed lips, shying away from his stare. “You’re inside me.”
“Yes. This is how babies come, darling, as well as other things.”
“What other things?”
“Pleasurable things. I know it’s difficult just now, but I’ll teach you.”
He spoke too low for anyone else to hear, and she was glad. She wanted some of this to be only for them, no matter who was watching. The feeling of him inside her, the close and novel connection could only be felt by them. Her arms tightened around his neck. How she used to despise this man for his nightly spankings and other tortures. She would never have imagined these sorts of “marital duties” taking place between them. She could never have imagined how close they would make her feel to him.
“I wish it was just us,” she whispered, feeling silly and romantic. “I wish we were the only people in the world right now.”
“We will be, next time. We’ll have countless hours alone together when this is over. You’re being so brave.”
She wanted to be brave and good, to please him. Not so he wouldn’t spank her. Goodness, he couldn’t spank her now, in front of everyone.
No, she wanted to be brave and good because he was being brave and good, and steadfast, and caring. When he caressed her nipples through her gauzy shift, she felt herself grow wetter where he entered her. When he stroked her flower, furtively, teasingly, she wanted to open her teeth against his skin and bite him. She began to feel that curious, undulating rise of tension she’d experienced in his discipline parlor, when her whole body had gone mad with trembling bliss.
“Oh, I think...” Her voice cut off as she was seized by more shudders of pleasure. “I think... Is it all right to...?” She couldn’t put it into words. She let go of him and put her fingers over her eyes. Everyone was watching. But it felt so awfully wonderful.
“Don’t hide.” His gruff voice admonished her. “Look at me. And yes, it’s all right.”
The feelings she had now were just as intense as the ones she’d had during that punishment, when she felt bad and wanton. It’s all right. He said it was all right. But to lose her composure now, before all these people...
As soon as she decided she could not, it was as if Thomas redoubled his efforts to bring her to that peak. It wasn’t only his agile caresses, but the feeling of him inside her, filling and possessing her. She stared into his eyes, looking at him as he’d commanded. Her body seemed to stretch and bloom from the intensity of his gaze alone. It was no longer a question of whether she might lose her composure. She’d already lost it. Her body was caught up in a spell he’d determinedly cast.
“Now, my sweet,” he groaned, surging inside her. “Let go with me.” He pressed against her, coaxing her flower to full satisfaction. Her center erupted in the same shattering explosion she’d felt those many weeks ago, only now it was heightened by his scent and closeness, and his shaft inside her body. She could never have imagined it could get better, but it had.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, Thomas.” She wanted the cataclysmic moment to last forever. She clung to him, trembling through lingering pulses. She felt him thrust deep in her, once, twice, and then he groaned too, arching over her. Did this hurt him? His features were stark and taut as he shuddered between her legs.
At last, after several such shudders, he seemed to return to himself. He stared down at her with an expression of such fierce tenderness she could have cried.
That, she supposed, had been the end of it. She heard a nervous giggle, and a smattering of applause. Thomas ignored it, and so she attempted to ignore it too. He covered her body with his in a futile effort at modesty, and gave her a warm, edifying hug. He pressed a secret kiss beneath her ear and whispered, “Now we’ve coupled. Now you’re well and truly mine, and I am your royal consort.”
She felt ridiculously pleased. She also understood now about “performance.” He had indeed performed admirably, as her still-trembling limbs could attest.
After one more long, ardent kiss, he pulled away. The emptiness he left behind reminded her just how full she’d been. They’d do this thing again sometime. He’d said so. She looked forward to experiencing it. She stared at him as he sat back on his haunches. With a withering look at the surrounding company, he grasped a handful of the linen sheet beneath her and drew it over his masculine length. Next, he gently pressed the linen to her center, to the hot wetness that lingered.
“Here, then,” he said over his shoulder. He sounded sharp, almost annoyed. The women came scurrying over. He eased Violet back so they could pull off the sheet. There was another underneath, and Violet perched on it and huddled beneath her shift. That was when she noticed the smears of pink and red. A bloodied sheet. Thomas’s coupling had made her bleed, providing proof of her purity. The ladies folded the sheet and carried it to the head councilman.
“Blessings on your marriage,” the old man said.
Those four words seemed to be the signal for the spectators to leave. Within the space of two minutes, the entire room emptied. The bride and groom were left alone.
Thomas draped his robe over Violet’s huddled form. After that, he turned from her and sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over, two long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Thomas? Are you all right?”
He turned back to her. “I ought to be asking you that question.”
But he didn’t ask, nor wait for any reply. He reached down to the edge of the bed where the women had left the rest of the blankets, and pulled them up over her. She watched his muscles as he moved, his unfamiliar male physique so different from her soft curves. His thick member, that part of him that had been inside her, had at some point transformed to a more practical size.
“What can I get for you, darling? Something to eat?” he asked. “More wine?”
“Oh, no. I still feel very full.”
She flushed as soon as she said it. She meant her stomach was full from the feasting, but she remembered the other full feeling, which was why she blushed so hotly.
“I think it’s terrible that they subject royal heirs to that ritual,” he said, coming under the blankets to hold her close.
“And you. You were subjected to it too.” She choked back a sudden impulse to weep, whether from sadness or relief or joy, she didn’t know. “I’m glad I wasn’t alone.”
“It’s a difficult thing to accomplish alone.” His light jest only intensified her jumbled feelings. She huddled closer to him and buried her face against his shoulder. A few tears did manage to squeeze out, dampening his skin.
“Please don’t cry.” He stroked her nape. “Although I understand why you’d want to.”
“It’s not because of anything you did.” She didn’t wish his scowl to deepen any further. “Even with this awkward bedding ritual, I’m glad we’re married. I’m glad it was not someone else.”
“I’m also glad it was not someone else. I believe we were always meant to be together, and not just because you needed to be taken in hand.”
She shivered at his possessive regard. “Will you...” Her courage nearly deserted her as she worked to produce the question. “Tonight... Will you...?”
A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Do you mean to ask if you must be spanked on your wedding night?”
She sincerely wished she hadn’t brought it up. Maybe he would have just fallen asleep beside her. “It’s
been a very long day,” she said.
“That’s true, but it’s called a nightly spanking for a reason. ‘Nightly’ means every night.”
They stared at one another within their close embrace. Goodness, he looked so handsome even when he was stern. Or even just pretending to be stern. She could see a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. When he’d been training her to better behavior, he’d hardly ever smiled. Even the hint of a smile gave her a queer, fluttering feeling in her stomach that she feared was infatuation.
“I hoped you weren’t serious about the nightly spankings.”
“I’m very serious when it comes to discipline, my darling, as you well know.”
Yes, she did know it. When he sat up and pulled her across his lap, she went willingly, if not eagerly. When she agreed to a marriage with the Duke of Thornton, she had tacitly agreed to this too.
“It’s been so long.” He pushed up her shift and ran his palms across her bottom cheeks. “Far too long, don’t you think?”
Violet didn’t answer. She couldn’t think at all, much less answer his question, which was probably rhetorical anyway. In matters of discipline, he didn’t care what she thought. He only cared what she needed.
And, well, maybe she needed this spanking on the first night of their marriage. The initial smack made her jump. She was out of practice taking spankings, after their ten-week break from one another.
“Ow, it stings.”
“I imagine it does.”
He continued on, calming her with some short, stern words whenever she pitched about on his lap. Thank goodness the women and the councilmen had not stayed to witness this display. The bedding was humiliating enough.
To her relief, he didn’t spank her very long, only long enough to remind her how uncomfortable his punishments could be, and how much control he could wield over her when he wished it.
“There,” he said, righting her when he was done. He kissed her, gathering her close. “And now, if you’re ready to settle down for the night, perhaps we can begin that instructive talk...”
Chapter Four: Desire
Violet awakened the following morning to the novel sensation of a warm, solid man pressed along her back. The chamber was quiet, the benches empty. Thin light filtered through the windows, giving the vast room an otherworldly feel.
At some point, servants had come to build up the fire. The last thing Violet remembered was her husband explaining the act of marital congress and how babies came about. He explained how they were birthed, and that they grew in her womb and not her stomach as she had always assumed. She realized now how ignorant she’d been about the facts of reproduction, despite the fact that the entire kingdom wished her to bear numerous children.
“That’s why coupling feels so good,” her husband had said as she drowsed against him. “So you’ll wish to do it again and again.”
Clever, so clever, how it was all set out. He taught her other things too, things about his body and what felt good to him. As for her body, he already seemed to know every lovely thing.
She turned in his arms to gaze on his face while he slept, but she found him already awake. He appeared far more alert than she felt.
“Good morning,” she said, turning her eyes away. How silly to feel shy, after all that had transpired the night before.
“Good morning,” he returned in his low, rumbly voice.
Memories assailed her, both good and bad. Mostly good. His bare skin slid against hers as he stretched, and a light throb began to pulse between her legs. His arms tightened around her, making her feel drowsy and safe.
“How is my princess?” he asked as she snuggled against him.
“I’m well. I slept so deeply, even here in this cavernous room.”
They looked around at the draped garlands and drooping flowers, fragile symbols of fertility. She had asked him last night when their child would be born, and he told her it might take many couplings to conceive. He’d told her not to feel pressured, or worried, and then he’d caressed every inch of her body to help her relax and drift to sleep. “I’m learning everything about you,” he’d told her. “And in the morning, when it’s just you and me...”
She drew in a breath and sat up against him.
“You said this morning...when I was not so tired...”
He kissed her shoulder with a soft chuckle. “I remember, my ardent innocent. I promised I would demonstrate proper marital intimacy, now that all the interlopers have gone.” He cast a look at the empty benches. “I prefer having you to myself.”
As he said this, he slid a hand up her spine, a firm, engaging pressure that drew her right against his chest.
She slid a look at him from beneath her lashes. “I can hardly get used to the feel of you against me. You’re so big and...and hard.”
“Indeed, I’m big and hard.” He took her hand and moved it over the thick evidence of his arousal. “You remember how we spoke of desire? This is desire. Touch my cock, darling. Don’t be afraid of it, even when it grows big and hard.”
She obliged him, fascinated by the velvety surface of his shaft. She’d never really been afraid of it, even when he was pressing it into her mouth to curb her unruly tongue. He had told her last night that such acts were not always a punishment, that sometimes they might use their lips and tongues to pleasure one another instead. Desire. It was such a beautiful, sultry word, and perfectly described what she felt for him.
“Do you wish... Would you like...?” She stroked his majestic manhood. “Shall I take it in my mouth? Will that bring you pleasure?”
“Oh, yes.”
He lay back and guided her down to his upstanding member. It felt much more pleasurable to take him between her lips when she wasn’t in disgrace. Not only that, but he made the most beguiling sounds, moans and gasps that he hadn’t made the times before, when he was disciplining her. The sounds drove her on, inviting her to take him deeper, and then lick up the length of him as if he were a delicious sweet.
Suddenly, he drew her away. “Stop, please. That’s enough.”
She frowned. “You didn’t like it?”
“On the contrary, I liked it very much. But it’s time for your turn.”
“My turn?”
He pushed her back on the bed. “No more of your innocent questions, princess. I’m happy to demonstrate. Open your legs.”
She loved the fond way he called her princess. She loved his force and capability in the art of coupling, even if she felt vulnerable as he settled between her thighs.
“What must I do?” she asked.
“Nothing. Just lie there with your legs spread open.”
“Oh.”
Any additional questions cut off in her throat as he slid his tongue between her feminine folds and laved over her most sensitive spot. “Oh!” she said, much louder. “Oh!”
It felt wonderful to touch herself there, but when he licked and sucked her, and blew his hot breath there, it felt a thousand times better. She could feel herself dampening at every touch. He parted her with his fingers and kissed her, and then licked her again and again until she was wild with the sensation of it.
Her trembling exhalations seemed to amuse him. He grinned and returned to work, treating her flower to the most thorough and stimulating session it had ever received. As he quickened her with his tongue, he eased fingers in and out of her body, making her remember last night.
“That feels so good,” she cried, but it didn’t feel good enough, because she didn’t feel full enough. She wanted him over her and inside her as he’d been last night. She wanted the stretching, frightening sensation of him pressing into her, but she didn’t know how to explain that. Her body was too wrought up from his tongue to try to explain it. She merely squirmed beneath him and begged, please please please please please...
He released her legs and moved up her body until they gazed into one another’s eyes. “Are you ready to join with me, princess?”
“Oh, please, yes.”
She clung to her husband, turning her head to receive his languorous kisses. He cupped one of her breasts and ran his thumb over her nipple. As she came to terms with that teasing stimulation, his other hand eased down to grasp her bottom and hold her captive for his deepening thrusts.
The excitement he’d spun with his talented lips and tongue now accelerated to a heightened ache. He’d explained about this bliss last night. He had taught her words like satisfaction, ecstasy, completion, but none of them captured the magic she felt. He was taking over her body and making her feel things she never thought to experience. He was so strong, so wild, and yet so careful not to hurt her. He might crush her if he wanted, or jar the life from her, but instead he brought her this incredible pleasure.
She never would have believed, a few months ago, that she could ever want this. That she could ever want him, the man who had disciplined her until he haunted her nightmares.
But now...now she wanted all of this and more. She wanted all the delectable things he’d told her about in his low, rough voice. She wanted his hard thrusts and questing caresses. She wanted his broad shoulders and those strong hands that could spank her as easily as they could excite her. It was all part of the same man, this man who was inside her in more ways than one.
She had never paid much mind to the bards’ tales of love, but now she wondered if she was already in love with this duke she’d once despised. It would be marvelous to love the person she was married to. Her papa had adored her mother before she died. Perhaps Thomas would come to treasure her with that same intensity.
She gazed up at him as release washed over her, as her hot sheath pulsed around his thrusting length. He might be large and daunting, all discipline and authority, but he cared for her. He held her close as he reached his peak within her.
Desire. Ecstasy. A child eventually, made up of both of them, born from this sort of joining.
The Royal Wedding Night (Royal Discipline Book 2) Page 4
