The Punishment of Ivy Leavold (Markham Hall Book 3)

by Simone, Sierra

  I was untied and then my blindfold was removed. I blinked at the sudden light, my pupils contracting painfully, and I was still blinking as Mr. Markham helped me sit up and then gathered me in his arms. His face was the first thing that came into focus, his bright eyes and his hungry mouth, and he looked all sorts of dangerous—angry even.

  “What next?” I whispered, trying not to look at the people around us. I only wanted to see him now, I only wanted to feel him, and as I did with him, I only felt hungry for more, not sated in the least.

  “Now we go upstairs.”

  And without so much as a word to those around us, he picked me up and carried me away. I was still completely naked and he was still completely clothed, save for his cravat, which now lay crumpled on the floor, ignored. He carried me effortlessly, without strain, and I rested against him, wrapping my arms around his neck. As aroused as I still was, I could also rest like this forever, snuggled against the warm, strong chest of the man I loved.

  I sighed happily.

  He looked down at my head resting on his shoulder. I felt him swallow. “You’re going to be the death of me, Ivy Leavold,” he said, voice serious.

  We reached the second floor, where it was much quieter than the first. As we walked down a hallway, towards a destination Mr. Markham seemed familiar with, unmistakable sounds came from the different doorways, and I knew beyond a doubt that these rooms were made for guests to play in. Julian confirmed this when he set me down to open a door at the very end of the hall, quite isolated from everything else.

  Inside, the room was filled with things both familiar—a bed, a chaise, pillows and thick rug—and unfamiliar. Restraints mounted from the walls, floggers that looked like they were made for horses, flat wooden paddles.

  “What is all this?” I asked, even though I had a good idea.

  “The Baron has unconventional tastes,” Julian said, locking the door behind us. “And he also likes to accommodate any potential whims of his guests. Look at me, Ivy.”

  I turned, not sure what to expect. Mr. Markham stepped forward, his eyes pinned on mine. “Are you ready?”

  “I’ve been ready.”

  “Really? And are you scared?”

  I thought about that thick erection hidden in his trousers. I thought about the selfish, possessive look on his face and all the times he’d pushed my body past the point of endurance.

  I nodded. Yes. Yes, I was scared…and inflamed and so wet that I could feel it on my thighs.

  He stepped forward again and his hands circled my neck, his thumbs meeting in the small crescent of my clavicle.

  “You’re not scared enough.”

  I wanted to eat her, like a wolf in a fairy tale. I wanted to crush her to my chest until she was part of me, her atoms commingling with my atoms. I wanted to bend her, break her and then watch her beg for more.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe we were sick. But if that was the case, I never wanted to get better. I never wanted to be cured of her, her smell, her taste, the way the light caught in her silky hair. The way the soft flesh of her throat just gave and gave under my fingers. How could someone so strong, so fierce, be housed in a shell that was so frail?

  “I could snap your neck right now,” I murmured. “I could squeeze here—” I increased the strength of my grip just barely, only enough to impede her breathing the smallest bit, fascinated with how my fingers felt against the delicate inner workings of her throat—muscles, tendons, veins.

  She gasped, her eyes flashing an amber brown, widening in fear. But she didn’t step away, she didn’t reach up to fight me, she didn’t say bluebell. No, instead she relaxed into my grip, her eyes fluttering closed, her head lolling back as if she was offering even more of her throat to me.

  I wanted this when I fucked her, I decided. I wanted that ultimate fear, that ultimate surrender in her eyes and face when she came. I wanted it on her face when I came too, when I finally filled her.

  That single image, that single concept of my hands on her throat while I came, it was enough to block my ability to think, to plan. I dropped my hands and she inhaled deeply, opening her eyes.

  I took off my coat, letting my eyes rake over every inch of her naked body as I did. Now that we were completely alone, I had time to drink her in fully. Her full breasts, still tipped with hardened nipples. Her narrow waist that flared into athletic but still womanly hips. Those long lean thighs that I loved to feel around my neck…

  I took off my shirt. “Bend over and grab your ankles.”

  She obeyed, but not before I saw the resistance flare in her eyes. God, how I loved that resistance. If I didn’t leave this room covered in scratches and bitemarks, I’d be devastated. I wanted to know exactly what she was thinking, exactly what she was feeling at every moment, even if it was violent.

  I walked around her, examining her like a purchaser might examine a piece of art he was interested in. Her hair was coming unbound, several curls brushing the floor. The line of her back was almost perfectly flat—Ivy was quite flexible. A shame that I hadn’t exploited that properly before, but I assured myself I would plenty in the future, now that we had a future together. The happiness I felt at that thought made me pause to collect myself. She wanted this punishment and I needed to give it, and while I would give in to my joy as soon as we were finished here, give in to my urge to shower her with kisses and words of love, I needed to remain focused. I completed my circle, back behind her again, squatting so that I could chafe her taut calves while I examined her sex. It was visibly swollen now, and I slid a finger inside to test exactly how much.

  Perfect.

  I stood, looking down now, watching the rosebud entrance of her ass. Without warning, I slid the same finger inside there, making her tense. “Relax,” I ordered. It took a minute, but I finally felt her muscles lose some of their tension. I rewarded her by grinding my covered erection against her pussy while I worked that finger.

  “You know, wildcat, it wasn’t in my plan for tonight, but I’m going to take your ass too. After I come in your pussy. You make me come so good with your ass. I think about it constantly.”

  She let out a little noise—a mewl—of pure desire. “Oh kitten,” I whispered. “You’re going to have to stop making noises like that or I am going to have to punish you even more.” With her bent over gripping her ankles, my finger in her ass and my dick pressed against her, if she so much as squeaked again, I was going to come without even touching her with my cock.

  Mastering myself, I stepped back and delivered a firm slap to the right side of her ass, loving the way she twitched but didn’t let go of her ankles. I knew some people enjoyed paddles and whips and straps, but to me, the pleasure was in feeling her skin against mine, in personally smacking the ass that so brazenly tempted me, even when it was hidden under skirts and petticoats.

  I spanked her again and again, watching her ass glow and her muscles strain as she struggled not to lose balance. Strike after strike rippled through her flesh, and it wasn’t long before I could see how she’d gotten even wetter, her pussy glistening with desire. I needed my cock there. I was beginning to lose track of everything else.

  “Stand up, wildcat,” I said finally, slightly out of breath.

  She did and she didn’t wait for any other instructions, but grabbed my arms and pulled me close. “Fuck me, Julian,” she begged. “Please. I can’t take it any more.”

  “Oh you can’t?” My voice was close to a snarl now; I was at the edge of my control.

  “You said—”

  “Quiet,” I ordered, and then—with a discreet glance to make sure we were by the pile of pillows—I shoved her down as roughly as I dared, wanting to lick every line of anger and fear that creased around her eyes and mouth. And before she could recover, I was on top of her, cruelly grinding my cock against her, the fabric of my trousers abrading us both, the friction both painful and amazing.

  “Is this what you want?” I demanded, grinding harder.

  Her l
egs fell open and she moaned.

  “Tell me, wildcat, did you think about my cock while you were gone? Did you miss it? Did you try to make yourself come with your fingers in your cold bed? When you know deep down that you can only be satisfied by me?”

  She nodded, her brown eyes limpid pools of pain and desire. “Please, Julian. If you don’t fill me…” her hands came up, as if she was trying to gesture the idea that she couldn’t put into words, but that didn’t work either.

  My jaw clenching, thinking about that perfect cunt unattended for so long, thinking about the other people who had touched it tonight, thinking about what would have happened if I had lost her forever and some other man had gotten to fuck it whenever and wherever he wanted…I slowly unbuttoned my trousers and let my cock free.

  I ground against her again, now bare skin on bare skin, and she was so goddamn wet that I would slide right inside of her if I wasn’t careful.

  “Tell me you want it,” I said hoarsely. “Tell me what my kitten wants.”

  Ivy was practically writhing underneath me now, her hands everywhere—fisting my hair, sliding into my trousers to touch my ass. “Hard,” she managed. “Break me.”

  I angled my hips and drove in so roughly that she cried out. All I could feel and think and know was that tight little pussy around my cock, that perfect pussy, my perfect wildcat, and I was gone, rutting like an animal into her, pounding her like a savage. Even so, my mind kept a tally of her reactions, her moans and sighs and fingers digging painfully into my ass—though I chased my own release, hers was paramount. I was doing this for her, and I never wanted to hurt her. At least, not in a way that she didn’t enjoy.

  But for the most part there was nothing but fucking. Copulating. Just bare primal need as I pistoned into her exposed snatch. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more, more leverage, more power.

  I got to my knees and hoisted her hips up to match my pelvis. There. There. I held her hips up, but I adjusted one hand so that my thumb rested on her clitoris, and I rubbed it in tight, controlled circles as I slammed into her over and over again.

  “You’re so tight, kitten, so wet and warm. I’m going to love coming inside of you. I’m going to come so hard.”

  Her eyes were almost completely closed now and she was making those small mewling noises again, high moans in the back of her throat that drove me fucking crazy. She was tightening around me, a flush gathered on her stomach, and I dropped her back on the floor, still working her clit, still thrusting into her. Yes, she was going to come, almost now, and I moved my hand up to her throat. The fear flashed in her eyes again, but then—deliciously, perfectly—she arched her shoulders and neck, offering herself up to me. I only pressed down enough to restrict the air just so that it was noticeable, but my hand shook and for a minute, just for a minute, I wanted to press down a little harder, make her surrender absolute.

  I did. For the barest second. For one second where her eyes went wide and her mouth parted and then I let go.

  She sucked in a deep breath, her eyes deep, terrified orbs. And then she came like a shot around me, harder than I’d ever felt her, harder and tighter and Christ, I was there too.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, her cunt squeezing me like a vise, her body trembling as she cried out, and then I thrust into her one last time as brutally as I could, pumping her mindlessly like an animal, as a wave of heat exploded at the base of my spine and I came.

  She continued to shudder around me as I growled and ground my way through this release, my vision going black at the edges. I could feel the liquid heat of my climax on my shaft as I continued to pump her full, and when it finally, finally abated and my vision cleared, we were both covered in sweat, panting as if we’d run a race. But it had been worth it.

  “I love you, wildcat,” I told her, wishing somehow that she could know how much and how truly I meant that. How I meant it on a cellular level. On a spiritual level.

  She had gone nearly completely limp, her eyes half open and her breathing finally slowing down. “I love you too, Julian.”

  I pulled out and rested back on my heels, keeping her legs spread with my hands. And yes, I saw what I wanted to see, and no matter how base or disgustingly possessive it was, seeing my come in her thrilled me.

  Mine.

  “On your stomach,” I said, lowering her legs. “Now.”

  She did as she was told, but I could see from the careful way she moved that she was sore. Once she settled on the rug, I stroked her hair away from her neck and shoulders, so that I could drop kisses there later, and moved a pillow under her hips to angle her pelvis the way I wanted. I stood and gathered some supplies—the Baron’s rooms were always well-stocked for any scenario—and then I returned to her, kneeling by her side.

  I unpicked the silken knot of a garter, wanting her completely naked. Even though I’d just fucked her harder than I ever had, even though I’d forced her to disrobe in front of a house full of party guests, there was still something strangely intimate about pulling the garter free and peeling the stocking from her leg. I moved to the other side, repeating my actions, and then running a hand up her bare leg to her ass. I played with it for a minute, loving the firm but soft feeling of it under my fingers, loving the glimpses of her pussy as I squeezed and let go, squeezed and let go.

  I uncapped a bottle of oil, drizzling it on her back and down her legs, and then I began to rub it into her skin, massaging and kneading every muscle in her body, from the ticklish soles of her feet to her swan-like neck. I massaged each and every finger, stopping at her left ring finger to kiss the spot where my ring should be…where it would be as soon as this was over. I massaged her scalp until she sighed with pleasure and closed her eyes. I massaged her until she went from limp to limper, until her breathing slowed into the slow draws of the nearly-asleep.

  Then I found another bottle of oil. Unlike some oils made for this purpose, it did not numb the user completely. In fact, the numbing agent was specifically designed to preserve as much sensation and enjoyment as possible while also taking away any bite of pain. The last time I had done this, I had wanted it to be rough. I had wanted it to not be easy and I had made her come anyway, come despite the pain and the fear, as a lesson to her. Although I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy every second of fucking that luscious ass.

  Tonight, though, tonight I wanted to pamper her like I had originally planned on. I wanted her to enjoy this and love it and want more. I wanted to show her that I could be kind too. That as much as I thought of bonds and begging and unshed tears, I also thought about kissing and caressing and the kind of sex that carried you from joy to joy like a bridge over a stream.

  I bent down and licked her pussy, starting at her clit and ending at the small pucker I intended to bury myself in. She sucked in a breath as I flicked my tongue around, and she raised her ass up in the air mindlessly, unconsciously, her body begging for more.

  She would get it. I used my finger to work the new oil in and out of her, as my other hand played over her cunt. The smell of crushed roses—the perfume of the oil—filled the room. Soon, her ass was so slick that it shone in the firelight, and I could tell the numbing effects of the oil were kicking in, because she was raising up against my finger even more now.

  I added another finger, working her a bit more aggressively, watching her sex pulse with want. She was grinding her pussy into the pillow now, and I backed up to watch it, slathering the first oil on my dick as I did so. It was beautiful. A work of art. Her legs spread, her head down, tiny whimpers issuing from her mouth as she rubbed that needy cunt on the pillow, rubbed and rubbed, the whimpers growing louder.

  I was fucking mesmerized. I had gone from lubricating myself to simply jacking off now, fisting my cock to the sight of her unabashed mindless need. God, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to fuck her or just watch her, but then her hand slid under her stomach to her clit, and my brain stopped engaging in that particular dilemma. I had to come inside her again and that was all
there was to it.

  I lowered my body over hers, her ass pressing into my pelvis, and I began to bestow all the kisses I had promised myself I would earlier, letting my lips linger over the nape of her neck and in the delicate spot between her shoulder blades.

  “I’m going to go slow,” I promised her. “I want you to feel good.”

  She nodded, her eyes still closed, her fingers still working under her and then I positioned myself at her entrance. The oil did its job, because while she inhaled at my invasion, she didn’t wince or shudder. Instead, she stayed relaxed as I pushed in, moaning as my weight pressed her clit harder into her hand and the pillow.

  I slowly sunk in, using one hand to gentle and stroke Ivy as I did. I wanted her to know how much I worshipped her. I wanted her to feel every inch of my need for her. I wanted her to come while I was so deep inside of her that she couldn’t tell where she ended and I began.

  I slid out a little and then back in, burying myself as deeply as I could. She continued to moan and mewl and pant, and so I moved incrementally faster, my mind starting to fragment into single thoughts, staccato words.

  Slick.

  Wet.

  Tight.

  Jesus Christ, so fucking tight.

  Ivy tensed underneath me, rocking her hips more and more and I knew she was about to come again.

  “Come for me, kitten,” I said in her ear. “Let me feel it.”

  She cried out and then I did feel it, the hot velvet of her clamping down around me.

  Fuck.

  Instead of thrusting harder, I wrapped my body around hers as she shivered her way through her climax, and I let her pulsing ass massage me into coming, the tension in my pelvis rising and rising, my body stoked into fire simply by being inside her. I didn’t even have to properly fuck this woman and she could still make me erupt, simply by being her.

  I groaned as my release stabbed through my balls and then my cock and I shot into her, holding her as tightly as was humanly possible as I did, breathing against the back of her neck, one forearm under her breasts and the other under her stomach.