Page 26 of Disciplined by the Duke
“Looking at something interesting, Miss Smith?”
“Your Grace. I . . . I . . . Molly.”
Lowering his head, he curled his body around hers to press an eye to one of the spy holes. He inhaled sharply. So this was what his little maid was rushing to see? When he’d seen her push into one of the back passageways, a lovely flush coloring her cheeks, he’d felt it his duty to follow. See if anything was amiss.
He hadn’t expected this. The lovely Miss Smith liked to watch. His cock pulsed, and he dug his fingers into the rough stone. “Hmm. A discipline session.” Drawing his head back, Montague whispered in her ear, “A friend of yours?”
“My chamber-mate.” She was so close. If she turned her face the slightest bit he could lean in, brush his lips against her own. “She broke a figurine. That’s all she did.”
“And you object to her punishment.” She worried her lip between small, even teeth, and Marcus wanted nothing more than to suck that lip into his mouth, lick the sting away. Sodding hell, what was wrong with him? She was hismaid.A soft voice whispered in his mind,But would it be so bad, to play, just a little? She’s so ripe for the plucking. So sweet.And curious.
Damn. Why did she have to be curious? He sucked in a deep breath, a mistake that close to her. “Each of our actions has consequences, Miss Smith. What you see here had a cause.” He peered into the office again. In the silence, he heard the chit on his steward’s desk call out the number twelve. Montague edged forward, nudging Miss Smith’s body closer to the peephole with his own. “I believe you should watch.”
A distressed whimper escaped her lips, and he pressed her even closer.
“Shhh.” His breath blew a fine hair across her cheek. “She’s not truly being hurt. Look at her expression.”
She twisted her neck, looking up at him. Her dark eyes glittered in the low light. She licked her lips, that sweet bud of a mouth just inches from his.
“It’s all right, Miss Smith. Just watch.” His voice caught, the back of his throat clogged. If she didn’t turn away right that instant, to hell with the consequences. He was taking her mouth, taking her. Right up against the fucking wall.
She took a deep breath, and turned back to the twin rays of light emanating from the spy holes. She pressed her right eye to the left hole. Montague brushed his cheek against hers as he looked through the other.
The girl, Molly, appeared anything but chastised. The maid’s fair skin was flushed. She grimaced at the next blow, but her eyes crinkled with an impish delight.
The air whistled as the birch bent and snapped across her bottom. “Sixteen!” she yelled.
Miss Smith leaned closer. The sound of her heavy breathing filled the corridor.
“Do you see that?” Marcus asked. “The way your friend clenches her skirts when the cane lands. The arch of her back as she lifts her bottom to the birch. She’s focused, intent on one thing only. The next strike.” Under other circumstances, Marcus would have relished the sight. Watching a woman enjoying a discipline session could be tantalizing.
He’d rather watch Miss Smith. The smallest reactions, from the flutter of a pulse at her throat to the shifting of her hips, those sent all the blood south. His balls felt heavy. His cock ached. And she was only observing a discipline session. How would he feel if she were the one bent over the desk?
“With each strike, your friend looks more at peace.” He huffed softly. “Which is more than I can say for Mr. Todd. I see that being the disciplinarian is as distasteful to him now as it was when I was a lad.”
She started, her soft cheek brushing against his jaw. “Mr. Todd disciplined you?”
“Me and my brother. On my parents’ orders, of course.” He tilted his head. “Your previous position, you were never . . .”
“No!” She lowered her voice. “No, Your Grace.” Her eye was drawn back to the office.
“What do you like about it?” he asked.
“I . . . I don’t like anything about it.”
He brought his lips to her ear. “I can feel your heart pounding against my chest, like the wings of a little bird trying to escape its cage. Your breath rate has increased. Your temperature has shot up. The body doesn’t lie.”
“You make me nervous, Your Grace. That’s all.” Her eyebrows drew together. “But—”
“Yes, little bird?”
Her lips twisted up at the nickname. “Why does Molly seem to like it?”
He smothered a laugh. Christ, she was precious.
“I fail to see the humor, Your Grace,” she bit out. “You don’t understand. She wanted this. She broke the figurine on purpose. Oh!” She spun within his arms. “I didn’t mean to say that. She won’t get into even more trouble, will she?”
He shook his head. “Not more than she’s already received. Although please tell her not to make a habit out of destroying my property in her attempt to subvert the power structure.”
