Page 40 of Disciplined by the Duke
He nodded.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. After a moment’s pause, her dark eyes bore once again into his. She raised her hand. Slowly, she opened her fingers so the fragile piece of glass rested on her palm. With no more hesitation she turned her hand, and the glass fell end over end. It missed the rug, and shattered into pieces on the hardwood floor.
He was on her in a second. He pressed her body against his, felt her heart race against his chest. He loved that evidence of her fervor, of her vitality. She was so full of life, her currents running deep beneath the still façade. He pulled the pins from her hair, and finally that beautiful mass cascaded through his fingers, as smooth as water. She opened her mouth, to say he didn’t know what, and he took advantage of the opening, and blocked any protest she may have made.
She’d already made her choice.
He invaded her mouth, owned every corner of it. Her tongue danced with his, and the tightness eased from his chest. He would show her what pleasure was. First, however, she had asked for another lesson.
He rested his forehead against hers, and dug down deep in his gut for control. With an effort that could have qualified as a Herculean task, he pulled back. “Look at me.” A sliver of mahogany showed beneath her lids. Bedroom eyes. He clenched his jaw. “You made a choice. You were feeling out of control, lost, and you decided to do something about it. You broke your employer’s property, willfully, and that choice has an answering effect.”
He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, pulling it out from the bite of her teeth. “You need something, an end to your riotous emotions, something that will make you feel better. Redeemed.” He brushed his lips over the shell of her ear, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. “Don’t worry, my little bird. I’ll give it to you.”
One arm banded around her waist, he drew her to his desk. He laid one more soft kiss on her lips, prayed that he was right about what she needed, that she’d enjoy it as much as he thought she would. He’d want her regardless; but if she also enjoyed his brand of discipline? His chest tightened at the thought. Turning her, he pushed her chest down over the hard wood surface.
She gasped, and he bent over to kiss the nape of her neck. “Reach your hands up and grab the edge of the desk.”
She complied, her round bottom rocking into his crotch at the movement, her soft flesh cushioning his throbbing shaft. He thought her action inadvertent, until she did it again.
“You little minx.” He placed a hand at the base of her spine. “Further teasing on your part will only incur more punishment. Since this is all new to you, I think that is something you will want to avoid.”
He smoothed his hand across her back and between her shoulder blades, her muscles softening beneath his touch. The heat from her body warmed him, even through both layers of their clothes. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and he enjoyed her surrender as she sank into his caress. For her to put herself into his hands like this, to trust him so much, made him feel ten feet tall. His hands swept lower. He prepared himself to stop his roving hands at the first sign of her unease.
It never came.
He felt the contours of her arse through her skirts, the delightful edge where her bottom met her thighs. Slowly, he drew her skirt up, inch by inch, exposing her flesh-colored drawers. He itched to tear the thin cotton from her, wanting no barriers between them, but knew she might require it for her peace of mind. He trailed his fingers down one round cheek. She was perfect.
“Do you need this?” he asked, his voice harsher than he intended. “Do you need to be punished?”
Her ragged breath met his ears, and for a moment, he didn’t think she would answer. “Yes,” Liz said softly. “I was bad. I deserve it.”
The fervency in her voice made him pause. His little bird believed her sins to be great, much larger than breaking his plate. He cocked his head. He had her in a vulnerable position. The questions he had regarding Lord Westmore swirled in his head. With a circle of a finger here, a thrust of his tongue there, he could have her spilling every secret she’d ever held.
Her fingers clamped onto the edge of the desk, her knuckles white, and his hands resumed their soothing caress. He couldn’t do it, not when she put so much trust into him. It would be a violation that could turn her against his sort of discipline forever. He ran his fingers through her hair, combing it out, and she sighed. Besides, it was coincidence that her former employer’s name had been raised in his current investigation. The chances of his maid having any relevant information were small indeed.
He pressed his body over hers, kissed her ear. “Relax. Nothing outside this room matters right now. There is just you and me and the discipline that you ache for.”
She nodded. Straightening, he knew she was as ready as she ever would be. His palms grew damp as he wondered what her reaction would be. Would she be one of those women who loved being taken in hand, who grew to crave the peace that came with it, or would the experience shock her senses, turn her stomach? He prayed for the former, but didn’t want to examine too closely why her response mattered so much to him. He couldn’t let it matter. This was only to help her discover who she was. It could be nothing more.
“Close your eyes.” He walked around the desk and opened the bottom drawer. Pulling out a drafting ruler, he rapped it against his palm, testing the sting. She tensed at the sound, but made no other move. Circling back behind her, he examined her from tip to top, observed her flushed cheeks, her heaving breaths, her knees pressed tightly together in anticipation. He had never been so attuned to a woman’s body, her emotions. It was a connection that would help him measure what she needed, what she could take, to give her the experience she craved. It was a connection that sent a wave of heat rolling throughout him, settling low in his gut.
He gripped the ruler. His body wanted to make her his. Fuck her hard. Hear her scream his name. He swallowed. His mind knew better. She was only his for tonight. He traced the swell of her bottom with the stiff wood, pleased when she sighed at the touch. “You will count out each stroke. That is all you have to do. That, and keep your hands where they are. The rest is my responsibility. Do you understand, Liz?” His chest swelled as her name rolled over his tongue. Such a neat, little name that suited her perfectly. That he was allowed the intimacy of calling her by it gave him great pleasure.
Her hips shifted. “Yes. I understand.”
Not wanting to give her time to second-guess her decision, he lifted the ruler and brought it down with a solid smack against her right cheek. Not so hard to hurt her, but firm enough to let her know what she was getting into.
Her body jolted at the impact, but immediately settled back down on the desk. “One,” she whispered. He smoothed over the tender area with his free hand before striking her left side. A whisper of breath hissed between her lips before she said, “Two.”
He took her measure, and smiled in satisfaction. Her self-control was a balm to his own turbulent mind. He focused only on Liz, her reactions, her pleasure. There was no room for the troubles of his life to invade.
Her loose muscles and serene face showed she was neither shocked nor horrified by this new experience. Whether she would grow to crave it remained to be seen. He began a deliberate campaign, smacking a different area of her bottom with each flick of his wrist. Waiting for her soft count, he caressed her over her drawers between strikes.
He had planned on stopping at twenty. That would be enough for a novice, enough for her to get a taste, to determine whether it was something she liked or abhorred. But he didn’t stop. She’d begun rocking her hips, reaching out to anticipate the next blow, and bringing them back down to rub her pelvis against his desk as she counted, the movement slight but unmistakable. She worried her bottom lip. Her voice became more and more breathless.
His little bird was aroused. By him. By his dominance. And he wasn’t willing to end it just yet. He stepped in close behind her, let her bottom cradle his erection while he rubbed soothing circles over her back, her arms. Leaning over, he pressed a soft kiss to her neck, enjoying the salty sweetness of her heated skin on his lips. “You’re doing so well, Liz. So well.” He bit back a groan as she pressed back against him and wiggled, a hint of frustration creasing between her closed eyes.
Straightening, he ran his fingers between the layers where her raised skirts met her drawers. He traced around her middle until he found the tie, unknotted it. Slowly dragging the undergarments down, he revealed inch after inch of her luscious bottom. “We’ll go a little further tonight, give you a little more.”