Hero Undercover: 25 Breathtaking Bad Boys
Page 61
His tall, lithe form sauntered to his desk, plucking a teacher's cane, his long slender fingers sliding gracefully along the length, like a violinist with his bow.
Her eyes welled with tears, his countenance blurring with the evidence of her sadness. Knowing when she'd been bested, her trembling hands grasped the soft flannel hem, slowly hauling it up, stopping at the apex of her thighs. Turning her gaze toward her headmaster, she pleaded silently, a small sob escaping.
"Continue, girl." He tapped the long length of wood on his palm, in obvious warning.
Shuttering her eyes, she tugged the gown up, the material brushing against her bottom, catching momentarily on the curve of her ass before resting on the small of her back. Her hands fisted the material at her belly, leaving the whole of her bottom half revealed to his wolfish gawking.
His hard length clearly visible behind his trousers, the coveted, delicious intruder of her pouch curving toward his left hip, and Ettie remembered how hot the silky penis felt in her palm and how it twitched and seeped its semen on the tip.
"Eyes up, girl. It's not the time for that—yet."
Yet. Oh, yes.
A flash of guilt ran through her. A brazen dirty puzzle is what she'd become, no more than a covey of harlots. When had the innocent girl changed over to this lust driven woman, staring greedily at the headmaster's cock?
"Lie across the desk, Henrietta, I wish to see your stripes and check for anything amiss with your healing."
Looking for a reprieve from his staring, she quickly placed herself on the cold hardwood, searching over her shoulder to determine what his next move would be.
"Eyes forward." His hands ran lightly over the breadth of her ass, his cool fingers tracing the length of her stripes, following them from beginning to end, spanning the width of her cheeks, his fingers outlining so lightly that goose bumps rose on her skin, causing her to shiver.
"Was that arousal, moppet?"
"I don't know, Sir." And she didn't know. It could have been, she seemed to be aroused any time he was present, but to have herself so lewdly naked didn't overtly have her excited. No.
Gasping loudly with shock when his finger pressed between her labia, she gripped her gown tightly to prevent her from moving disobediently, submitting to his touch, just as he wished.
"Oh, Ettie, it is as if someone drenched you." He carelessly wiped his finger on the back of her gown, her scent strong in the air. "Your bottom, however, appears to be healing well. I'll add more balm at lunch. For now, I'll pin your gown up in the back, leaving your naughty ass exposed as a reminder of what happens when you disobey. Up, please."
She slowly rose, holding her gown at her waist, watching him pull something from the desk drawer. William sauntered back to her, and once he was closer, she determined that the items were clothes pins. Twirling his finger for her to turn around, leaving her bare bottom pointing toward him, and using the pins, he clipped her gown to her shoulders. The cool air from the window was blowing embarrassingly on her flesh, but thankfully, the gown was still long enough that her quim was covered.
"There. Now, a word of warning. Any impertinence, eye rolling, or sass, on your part, will have me pinning the front of your gown, as well, so I'd mind my tongue, if I were you, girl. Seems prudent, yes?" He raised his eyebrows at her, his lips curving with a sly grin.
"Yes, Sir. I'll behave."
"I bet." Pointing at her chair, he said, "Now, sit on that switched backside and let's start some school."
She couldn't remember the last time she'd been debased in such a manner. Maybe never. And yet, something had her completely perplexed.
Why is my laycock dripping?
Chapter 9
Charles sat at his desk, watching Ettie, who was studiously finishing the mathematics test he'd given her. Her geography had been atrocious, something he'd be focusing on in the next few weeks, but her mathematics and reading skills were impressive, especially for a woman. However, she reminded him that the family business, laundering clothes, had given her math exposure at a very young age and she'd learned quickly under the tutelage of her father.
He looked forward to reading the newer books by Dickens with her and reading the assignments he'd give her, regarding these. Her mind was sharp, and he valued that as a trait for a wife.
Telling her of his deception was a task he needed to handle, regardless of the concern and worry that racked him over it. He hoped she'd understand his need to find a woman who was truly in love with him, not one seeking gold for her purse.
Charles had learned at a young age to be a quick judge of character, a trait his father had told him not all in aristocracy had, but since he'd been gifted with the discernment, Charles found himself exercising it often. And his instincts told him Miss Henrietta Beaumont was genuine, a woman who could be trusted with not only his love but the secrets of his position as Duke of Norfolk.
A good wife was worth her weight in gold, and he couldn't let her slip through his fingers. Although she had her feisty moments and her temper needed to be tamped down some, the rest of her character seemed impeccable.
Charles had decided she seemed her most malleable after a spanking and a good prigging, so that would be the opportune time to reveal his hidden identity, offering her a life as a duchess, giving her the life of wealth and luxury she deserved, but more than that, he'd offer his undying love and devotion. He felt, deep down inside him, that she'd be amenable because she, too, felt a need for people to love her for who she was—and the struggles she'd been through since her parents' death had solidified this desire. And as a duke, he'd fallen completely and helplessly in love with his little thief, the starving and stealing waif he'd happened upon at the Carlton Market.
It was then, a pencil flew past his head, bouncing off the chalkboard, startling him from his peaceful reverie.
"What in blazing hell is the meaning of that fit of disgrace and outrage, Henrietta Leticia?" He rounded his desk, stalking toward her, his irritation rising with every step.
With her arms folded across her chest and her lips in a full pout, scowling angrily at him, she spit out, "I'm done with mathematics, I can't do some of these, and…well, I'm just sick of doing this."
"You're a stubborn, ill-mannered chit when you wish to be, Henrietta, but you'll find you've met your match, girl. I'll not have you behaving in such a manner. Stand up."
Ettie's throat visibly worked to swallow, her eyes widening, even if only for just a moment, before she narrowed them, tilting her chin before rising. God, how he loved her spunk and fire.
He quickly landed several smartly placed swats to her bare rear end, dragging her unceremoniously to the desk, leaving her to swipe at tears tracking down her cheeks. He grabbed the last two clothespins, and walking up to her, he yanked the front of her gown up, pinning it at the shoulders just as he had the back of her nightdress.
Ettie's adorable sex, fully exposed now with its soft blonde curls, just begged to be petted. He resisted the need to gratify his needs fully at the moment, and instead, cupped the full, plump pouch of her sex and he placed three smart slaps to the tender area.
Her mouth opened, forming a perfect O, before whispering quietly, "Ow!"
"Ow is right, girl. There are other—more painful—ways to punish a bad girl with a sore hind end. I believe you'll stand in the corner, thinking about how naked you are and what you could have done to prevent this punishment."
She hurried to the corner he pointed toward. The very corner he was betting she assumed would keep her red, burning bottom facing the open door of the classroom. The wobble of her pink, spanked cheeks had his cock stirring. But once she reached the designated area, a diabolical idea popped into his head.
"Oh, no, girl. I want your hot little cunt facing me; you'll place your ass in the corner."
"B-but—"
"Are you actually thinking of sassing me?" He strode up to her, watching her back up until her buttocks touched the corner, and she shook her head.
She laced her fingers, placing them on her crown, and shifted uncomfortably but complied, nonetheless.
He pulled his chair away from the desk and sat just a few feet away, crossing his ankle on his opposite knee, enjoying the view of his girl struggling with her need to behave and her desire to fight. The process of submission was a fascinating one to him; he never grew weary of watching the emotions play across a subject's face.
The clack of shoes on the marble hallway outside the classroom alerted both of them to a possible visitor—one who would be shocked at the view in the far corner.
Ettie's hands fluttered on her head, unlacing, he assumed, to cover her sex. He pointed a finger at her in warning, slowly shaking his head.
It was at that moment, Matilda came bounding into the room with a tray of goodies. "It's time for tea—Oh. Oh, my!" Stopping dead in her tracks, Tillie looked from a naked Ettie in the corner back to Charles.
Master...Master William, it's tea time. Would you like me to come back later or—"
"Oh, lovely. Look, Henrietta, tea." He grasped a teacup and saucer, raising them in a mock salute to the errant woman. "I guess you'll have to let yours cool its heels, just like you are. Isn't that right, my dear?"
Ettie's jaw worked from gritting her teeth, and it tickled him. No wonder she was so fiery in bed, her natural response was snark and spark. He'd tame it, of course, but keep just enough of it alive to keep life interesting.
"Uh-uh, girl. You won't like what happens next, I'd keep my behavior in check."
Her cheeks turned pink, almost as pink as her pussy from its small spanking.
"Thank you, Tillie. This will be lovely, and Ettie will enjoy it immensely, once I've finished with her."
It was his nanny's turn to have her face blush, and he watched her scurry from the room. "You're welcome, Master…Miss Henrietta."
Now that Charles knew they wouldn't be interrupted again, he undid his breeches, letting his cock bob free from the constraint, stroking the length with his hand while imagining that he rubbed it through the divide of her ass, the plump flesh pillowing his hardness.
And although he was pretty sure it was an unconscious movement on her part, Ettie licked her lips, her eyes dilating while focused on his cock.
"Come here, girl."
Shuffling up to him, she stopped close to his knees, staring down at his penis then quickly averting her eyes when she heard his low chuckle.
"What should you have done in your frustration, instead of throwing your pencil?"
"I should have told you I was frustrated and asked for permission to stop my studies?"
He beamed up at her. "Splendid. See! You do know how to behave like a sophisticated woman; you just need an incentive for appropriate choices." Letting go of himself, he placed a hand on each cool hip, tugging her forward. "Do you think this punishment has been an incentive for the future?"
"Yes, Sir." She nodded vigorously, watching his cock bob wildly between them.
"Come ride me, moppet. It's time for a bit of reward." He easily lifted her while she opened her legs to straddle him, and he slid her down over his length, filling her fully. With a hand cupping each lush buttock, he hoisted her up and down, her tight channel squeezing him.
"Oh…Oh, Sir."
Thrusting into her, his balls tightening, he spiraled, knowing he would be coming soon. He dragged her hips back, allowing her clit to rub on him, pulling and pushing her, increasing the pace until she clenched him with a vice-like hold, her head tossed back, and a screech erupting from her throat as her hips jerked spasmodically.
Charles had barely withdrawn before he spurted his semen, coating her bottom with his seed, over and over, until he stopped moving, completely sated.
Her sticky cunt and ass rested against him, and the two of them gasped for air in a tight clutch. Rubbing her back, he soothed her, murmuring quietly to her, "My girl. Such a good girl. My love."
Her body stilled. And it was then, Charles knew he needed to tell her. He'd just confessed his love; now he needed to confess his identity.
"Ettie, I have something serious to tell you."
She sat up, her eyes concerned, watching him closely.
"You know how we discussed how both of us want people to like us—or love us—for who we are, not what we do or don't own or who we are?" He stroked her cheek, hoping this wouldn't be the last time he sat with his love.
"Yes, Sir."
"Well, I've suffered from this my whole life, only having the attention and admiration of people who wanted something from me, not wanting true love or friendship. They just wanted to be near me, having recognition for being in my presence. Until now…"
She ran her finger through his hair, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "What do you mean, William?"
"First, my name isn't William. It's Charles. And second, I'm not friends with the Duke of Norfolk. I am the Duke of Norfolk. Charles William Ellingsford, the Duke of Norfolk, at your service, Miss Henrietta Leticia Beaumont. He held both of her hands in his, stroking his thumbs along the silky skin and he had no doubt his eyes were as pleading as his words.
"Charles? You are Charles Ellingsford? The Duke of Norfolk?"
"Yes, my sweet girl. And I'd like to take this opportunity to make it formal. Will you be my wife? Will you agree to be the Duchess of Norfolk?"
"I-I can't believe I fell for this…I've been so busy with my own life; I didn't even recognize you." She leaned forward, kissing him softly before grinning at him impishly. "Yes, I'd love to be your wife and become the Duchess of Norfolk…even if I'm not a lady of society, as of yet. You know, I haven't finished your school." She giggled behind her hand.
He threw his arms around her, kissing her passionately, before pulling away to tweak her nose. "It's okay, moppet. We'll continue with your schooling; I have a feeling my services as headmaster will come in handy with my new wife."
"I declare, I have no idea what you mean, Master Wil—Master Charles."
"Who would have guessed that a thief for the duke would become a wife for the duke so quickly?"
The End
Megan Michaels
#1 Bestseller in Erotic Western & Erotic Historical! Megan Michaels writes BDSM Erotic Romance that is Contemporary, Western Historical, Sci-Fi, or Victorian. Her books delve into Domestic Discipline, Dominance/submission, and all of them have elements of BDSM. Megan Michaels' books are a sensual exploration into erotic romance. She loves a strong alpha male who spanks, and if that man is a Dom, alien, or a cowboy... well then the perfect situation has been created.
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Hero Undercover
The Officer’s Little Girl
By
Meredith O’Reilly
©2017 by Blushing Books® and Meredith O’Reilly
All rights reserved.
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Meredith O’Reilly
The Officer’s Little Girl
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Chapter 1
“Murphy, get in here.”
It was a Friday afternoon and I was working on filling out the report from a three-car collision I responded to that morning. Thankfully, no one had been hurt, which decreased the number of forms I had to complete, but there were still quite a few.