Chapter Fourteen
Cici paced worriedly before the cold fireplace, nervously glancing at the clock on the mantle. She had heard men’s voices in the entryway and the clattering sound of their departing carriages almost thirty minutes earlier. She had expected Andrew immediately thereafter. Pausing, she strained to hear but there was no sound from the sitting room or Andrew’s rooms beyond. Walking to the connecting door she opened it and apprehensively peered across at his closed bedroom door. What was he waiting for? She wanted her punishment over with so she could get on with the business of seducing her husband.
Suddenly, the outer door to the sitting room opened and he appeared. Cici gasped as she saw the implement he held in his hand. Never had he used such a harsh correction tool on her. Her hand rose involuntarily to her throat and she swallowed the protest that was on the tip of her tongue. She knew she deserved a spanking, but this seemed a bit too much.
Andrew stopped when he saw her stricken expression and arched one finely shaped brow in question. Did she think he’d go easy on her after such a stunt? Pointing to the door to his room, he waited for her to obey his silent command. Watching as she crossed the sitting room slowly, he followed his errant wife into his rooms the whole while tapping the half-inch thick birch cane against his thigh. First he would see to her correction; then he would see to their other needs.
The door closed with a soft thud before the clicking of the lock echoed ominously throughout the room. His voice when it came was filled with unyielding authority. “Remove your clothing and stand beside the settee, Cecilia. I want you bent over the arm with your naughty bottom high in the air for me.”
Cici shivered. The commanding tone of his voice aroused her beyond belief. Even the impending punishment did nothing to tamp down the unladylike wanting she had for her husband. Murmuring an obedient, “Yes, Andrew,” she quickly divested herself of her sheer robe and the thin night rail she wore underneath. This left her naked in her husband’s fully clothed presence. She felt familiar moisture gathering between her thighs at the wickedness of her bare state while he stood still dressed in his formal clothes.
“No dawdling. Bend over the arm and present your bottom for punishment.” He watched as his beautiful Duchess finally did as he bade. As his eyes ran over her curvaceous form, he smiled as he noticed the moisture glistening on her inner thighs. She was absolutely perfect for him. It surely was destiny that had brought such a matched pair together. She enjoyed the lead up to the punishment and the domination as much as he did, if not the actual punishment itself. Tonight he was sure she would find little enjoyment from the cane, but he would make it up to her afterward. He would much rather paddle her delightfully rounded bottom with his bare hand but he could not tolerate his wife behaving like a hoyden by drinking and smoking cigars, of all things. As for the sex manual she had been futilely searching for, he would be happy to share his private collection with her later. He would enjoy watching her blush and cringe at the rare ancient book with its explicit depictions of sex. But he would do it at a time when she wasn’t in need of a lathering to her naughty backside for acting like a dockside hussy.
“I’m frightened of the cane, Andrew. Can’t you use something else? Your hand or the birch rod would sufficiently get your point across, don’t you think?”
“Since when do you get to choose your discipline, wife?” He watched her squirm under his scrutiny but she held her position. “I decide what will get my point across, not you.” Stepping up to her he ran a hand across her buttocks, the skin stretched tautly because of her bent position. He admired the smooth flawless perfection, only slightly dismayed that he might mar her skin with stripes from his cane. He would take care not to break her skin and avoid bruising at all costs. She had shown her ability to tolerate moderate chastisement without bruising in the past. He would take care not to do so tonight. As his hand continued to caress, he slipped between her thighs testing the wetness there. “You seem to be enjoying this, my dear. You’re quim is positively drenched.”
She moaned and hid her face in her hands. She knew she was responding like a wagtail tart, but she couldn’t help it.
“No need for shame, Cici. I love your uninhibited response. Most husbands would kill for such an amorous wife inside the bedroom. We just need to work on your deportment on the outside.”
“I really am quite ashamed of how I acted today. But I was lonely before Maggie arrived.” She sighed as his hand slipped between her nether lips and stimulated the little nubbin that was the source of such great pleasure. “Could we skip the punishment and go directly to your bed Andrew? I have missed you so this past week.”
“I can see that, but we will finish with our business first then concentrate on our pleasure.” Reluctantly removing his hand, he took up the rod ready to start her caning.
“We will start out with a warm up first. Afterwards, I will lay six strokes on your very naughty bottom. I’ll be using a light cane since this is your first time. You can expect to feel a sting followed by a deep intense burning after each stroke. This will be worse than the birching I gave you. You will be sore and may have some welts for a few days but nothing permanent. I will not harm you wife, but I intend to teach you a lesson. Now, I want you to stand and place your hands on the arm of the settee.” As she moved into position he corrected her posture so her bottom cheeks were not stretched so tight and her legs were more widely spread. “I will count each stroke.”
He began by lightly tapping her bottom with the end third of the cane creating a warm sensation and bringing a light pink color to her skin. He concentrated on one cheek for a few minutes then laid a burning line of heat across that same cheek with a firm flick of his wrist.
She cried out and her hand went automatically to rub her stinging bottom. “Ouch! That really stings.”
“Hands, Cici!” Andrew reminded firmly. “You will hold your position or the stroke will be repeated. I won’t have an injured finger over a simple caning do you understand?”
“Yes Andrew.” She breathed deeply as the sting began to change to a deeper burn and she felt a tingling sensation start between her thighs. Moaning in embarrassment, she placed her hand back on the arm of the settee and hung her head.
His hands returned between her legs and he slipped two fingers easily into her dripping channel. “You respond delightfully to my every touch, dear one. It is amazing.”
“I am truly a slut, My Lord.”
He landed two sharp smacks on the inside of her thighs with his wet fingers. “One swat for the name calling and another for the My Lording. I will hear no such language, wife. You were pure the first time I took you and there is no shame in enjoying your husband’s attentions.”
“But these are not usual attentions. Surely this is not a common reaction to punishment. Nor is it a normal activity for a husband and his wife.”
“You’d be surprised. And the husbands that don’t correct their wives are the ones who are henpecked and run roughshod over. That will not be happening in our marriage, Cecilia.”
“I realized that on our wedding night, my most noble husband.”
He bit back a chuckle at her sass despite her vulnerable position and rubbed her bottom, keeping it warm and ready for more of the cane. He again tapped the end against her flesh, this time paying attention to her untouched cheek. A little swoosh was heard before the cane flicked across her bottom again. She hissed in her breath but managed to keep her hands in place and her legs spread wide.
“That’s one.”
“That’s two, Andrew.”
“No, the first did not count because you broke position.” He was glad she couldn't see his grin at her undignified snort then continued in a stern voice, “Enough chit-chatting wife, remain silent for the duration or I shall add penalty strokes. Except to answer a direct question I expect silence. You may of course feel free to moan or cry, but no further comments. Understood?”
“Yes Andrew. I understand and will do my best to
be silent.”
He worked the cane lower, tapping before striking with the stingy length of sanded birch. He kept the firm strokes at uneven intervals so she wouldn’t tense up her cheeks and increase the likelihood of bruising; although he had other techniques to employ if that became necessary. He just didn’t want to have to use them yet. After delivering four stinging strokes, he moved to her sit spots at the juncture of her buttocks and upper thighs.
“Lean forward and place your forearms on the arm now. These last two will be delivered where you will be reminded of your behavior each time you sit for the next day or so.” Andrew stepped closer and put a restraining hand on her lower back. These last two strokes would be more intense and send a clear message that her unruly behavior would not be tolerated.
Cici felt the end of the cane tapping across the backs of her upper thighs. The stinging from the taps and the four strokes had subsided somewhat, leaving a warm almost pleasant sensation across her entire bottom. The warmth nowhere neared the heat and throbbing she felt low in her belly and between her spread thighs. She wouldn’t dare tell Andrew, but the birch rod had been much worse in her opinion.
Suddenly there came a whistling noise and a line of the most intense fire flared across her lower bottom. It radiated deep and spread throughout her body. The sensation was overwhelming and she gasped for air, breathless in the wake of the fiery sensation. Before she could catch her breath, another blow of the same intensity landed across her other sit spot and her knees buckled sending her trembling and acquiescent form over the arm of the settee. It was then she realized that the entire prelude leading up to the two final blows had been the warm up.
She was overcome by sensation; the overriding feeling was the tingling ache between her thighs. Gasping for breath, she felt him caress her burning skin gently with his broad hand. She could tell he was assessing, inspecting and evaluating the session. Cici could feel a trickle of moisture running down her inner thighs and she couldn’t care less. Instead she arched her back, providing him with better access to her aching flesh in a silent plea for relief.
She moaned in intense satisfaction as his fingers sank deeply into her. He drove them inside her and the friction and heat was as intense as the burn of her freshly caned bottom. She couldn’t help but move against them, turning her legs inward and raising her pelvis hoping to increase the friction from his hand. She was near release and screamed out a protest when he suddenly removed those talented fingers.
“Please Andrew. I’ve learned my lesson. Don’t punish me more by leaving me this way. I need you so.”
“Never would I do such a sinful thing, my love. I am simply removing my clothing.” The words had no sooner escaped his lips before he was plunging deeply inside her. She was so wet that he slid in easily, plumbing her depths with his steel. “Oh Cici, you are a treasure,” he groaned as he stilled within her. He wanted to fully experience her heat and savor the grip of her tight sheath as she neared her climax.
He began to thrust deeply, firmly and with a fast paced motion. The caning, the sight of her naked, voluptuous form as she submitted to his dominance had him ready to release before the last blow of the cane had landed. He pumped into her, holding her hips steady as the slap of his thighs and belly against her heated skin echoed throughout the chamber.
“Oh Andrew, what you do to me!” Cici screamed as she convulsed in pleasure and succumbed to the building pressure in her pelvis as she came.
The grip of her muscles sent Andrew over the top an instant behind her, and he filled her with his seed. Still rampant with need, he lifted her and carried her to his bed where he spread her wide. Grabbing and wetting a cloth at the washstand, he cleaned her efficiently removing his seed and her juices and then returned in an instant. He spread her thighs impossibly wide and dove face first into her swollen, heated flesh. He then simply devoured her; there was no other word to describe it. His lips, tongue, and fingers worked expertly to return her to the peak of arousal. Finally, rising to his knees between her splayed thighs he drove into her a second time. Having gone two months without her, he was filled with unchecked need and he plunged and pumped into her, pausing only long enough to drape her legs over his shoulders for even deeper penetration.
In this position Cici could only hold on and submit. He was deeper than ever before and the pressure of his body slamming into her caused her to grunt with each downward stroke. She pressed a hand against his chest more in a move of self-preservation rather than protest as she once again succumbed to the pleasure his body evoked in hers. Her grasping, clinging sheath once again sent him hurtling into the stratosphere as he convulsed and groaned in pleasure before he emptied into her once more.
Collapsing atop her, he gasped for breath, his body heated and glistening from perspiration. After a few moments, he remembered to lift his weight off her so he wouldn’t crush her. While propped up on his elbows above her, he leaned down to capture her parted lips. After a sensual, lingering kiss, he rolled to his side and brought her up against him. His right hand slipped to her warm bottom as his left angled her face up to meet his.
“I love you, sweetheart. Never could I have imagined such bliss from our accidental marriage.”
“Oh Andrew,” Cici cried out joyfully as she finally heard the words she had longed to hear from him. “I love you, too.” Overwhelmed by sensation both physical and emotional, she wept.
“Come now, surely this is a happy moment not meant for such tears.” He paused and tilted her face back up to his. “Apart from the cane, was I too rough with you? I admit I was a bit overzealous, but I’d never wish to harm you with my attentions, Cici.”
“No Andrew.” Her breath hitched as she spoke her denial. “It was perfect. You were perfect. It's just that I’ve waited for you to tell me how you felt for such a long time it seems. I never imagined after being forced to wed that you could come to truly care for me. I was worried that you were getting tired of me, or bored. It has been weeks since you’ve… well, touched me in bed. And being away so much, I thought…”
“You thought I had strayed? Cici, I was being considerate of your feelings and the ordeal your body has been through. What’s more, we have discussed the fidelity issue several times. Must I reinforce my answer on your already sore bottom? When will you learn to trust when I say you are more than enough woman for me and I am not interested in tawdry or clandestine affairs with others.”
She then wrapped herself around him, her arms sliding around his neck, her top leg wrapping around his hip and she pulled him close. Holding on for all she was worth, she spread kisses wherever she could reach, his neck, shoulder, chest and the underside of his beard roughened jaw. “I’ve wanted to tell you I love you for months but was afraid.”
The hand on her bottom squeezed firmly and she squealed in protest at the abuse to her tender posterior. Looking up at him in question, she saw the stern look on his face and bit her lip in question as she searched for a reason for his reaction.
“I have told you many times about honesty, Cecilia. That would apply to any omissions about your doubts or feelings toward me.” Pulling her hips toward him, he squeezed her bottom more firmly and rolled her onto her back. Looking down on her from his dominant position he stared into her wide, emotion filled eyes. “I expect this to be the last time I have to remind you of this. Understood?”
“Yes Andrew, I understand.” She then smiled lovingly up at her husband and watched as his features softened. He nodded in acceptance of her answer and then once again, settled her close by his side, reaching down to pull the linens and covers over them both.
“Honesty, respect and some well executed tupping is an excellent combination for a successful marriage, I always say.” He hugged her tightly before pressing another kiss to her already swollen lips. Listening to her giggling at his outrageous pronouncement, he added in a teasing tone. “Yes my fair duchess, you make a damn fine piece for a man’s plug tail.”
She choked and coughed at hi
s colorful description of his male parts, then sputtered with laughter before retorting. “And you my dearest husband may tup Lady Laycock anytime.”
“Cecilia Marie, where ever do you hear such things?”
“Why from you of course, Your Grace!”
Knowing that half of her vulgar language could be laid at his feet they both laughed uproariously for quite a few moments. After spouting out more inappropriate cant for their sexual congress they sighed in contentment before drifting off into a satisfied sleep in each other’s arms.
Chapter Fifteen
The following morning, Cici eased gingerly into her seat at Andrew’s side. He gave her an indulgent look before returning to his morning paper. Maggie entered shortly thereafter and took her seat in the same manner. Cici looked at her in alarm then to Andrew who seemed accepting. Before anyone could utter a word, Rothbury entered unannounced and took up a seat alongside a suddenly flushed Maggie.
He greeted everyone amiably. “It is a delightful, spring morning. Andrew, I’ll have a moment of your time to discuss your sister’s betrothal, and then I’ll be taking her for an early ride in the park.”
Andrew, not at all surprised just nodded as he set his paper aside and turned his attention to his breakfast. Maggie gasped in outrage and Cici’s jaw dropped open in surprise.
“I have not consented to this match so no meeting is necessary, brother. I’d just as soon marry a Dutch Pug than this poor excuse for an Earl.”
“Margaret, you will be respectful and do as you are told.” Andrew spoke in his most authoritative voice. “I’m sure something happened after we left the study last evening that necessitated this course of action.”
“Absolutely, I skelped the naughty lass rather neatly and sent her to bed with a stinging behind. Of course, I mention this fact with great candor since I administered the leathering upon the bare after she made me so angry. That necessitates the aforementioned betrothal.”
Surrender Your Grace Page 14
