by Debra Glass
Now that a new day had dawned she’d regained whatever semblance of common sense she still possessed.
She regarded the door connecting their chambers and then started for her own door, intent on taking back her duties from Grainger. Just as she reached for the knob she heard Adam in the hallway.
“Yes, Midge, is it? Her ladyship and I shall not be needing your services for the rest of the day.”
Primrose held her breath as she listened to the sound of his door opening then closing. Her trembling hand hovered over the knob. “Oh blast,” she cursed under her breath as she whirled and stormed into his room through the connecting door.
For a scant two seconds he seemed surprised but then his eyes hardened as he appraised her from head to toe. “My dear, I daresay you’re a bit new to this to be asking for punishment.”
Fists clenched at her sides, she stalked toward him. “You told him, didn’t you?”
His dark brows brooded lower in question.
Shaking, she released a torrent of accusation upon him. “Of all the awful things you’ve done… Really? To tell him of all people what transpired between us…” She didn’t stop until she was toe-to-toe with him. “You saw for yourself the way he talks to me, takes liberties with me. Honestly I hoped you’d keep this between us.” She gestured around the room wildly.
Angry as she was she couldn’t deny the way being this close to him intoxicated her. Her pulse hummed. Her stomach clenched and warmth pooled in all the wrong places.
A furrow that made him look far too adorable formed over the bridge of his nose. “Are you insinuating I’ve confided in someone that I spanked your lovely bottom yesterday?”
Scorching heat raced up her spine and settled in the back of her neck. “That and more.”
Realization transformed his frown into mirth. Amusement glittered in his eyes. “Darling Primrose, are you referring to my cousin?”
Her heart beat as fast as a rabbit’s and no amount of reasoning would calm it. She forced herself to hold his gaze. “You know damn well to whom I’m referring.”
Cradling her face in one hand he brushed his thumb dotingly over her cheek. She wanted to melt into his arms, to offer herself up to him like a sacrificial lamb. Perspiration broke out along her spine and in the confines of her stays, making her ache for the freedom of casting her clothing aside.
“Don’t you know?” he asked, his voice but a silken caress that threatened to beguile her. “It’s in your eyes. Anyone experienced in the art of domination can see it.”
“See what?” She wanted to squirm. Away from him. Against him. Mercy, why was she so confused? Her insides felt tangled and twisted.
“That you’re practically begging to submit, that you need it, want it. Crave it.” He moved closer, pressing dangerously into her skirts.
She tried to swallow but couldn’t. “You didn’t tell him?” Curses, but she wanted to stay mad at him! Her already feeble resistance melted with every lingering sweep of his thumb on her skin. She whimpered.
“Of course not. In spite of our…relationship…this thing between us requires absolute trust. I would never betray you. Especially not to him.” His words left her confused. “Benedict knew what you were even before I recognized it. I would imagine that’s why he sought to marry you.”
“But I…I didn’t know myself until yesterday.”
He chuckled. “Didn’t you? Because I knew the moment you watched me with Lady Beckham overly long.”
She averted her gaze. Was she that transparent? That easy to read?
His touch fell away and any tenderness in him hardened. He took a step back. “Now to the matter at hand. Why are you still wearing clothes?”
He spun on his heel, strode to an oxblood armchair and sat. Primrose’s lips parted in shock.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he chastised. “I told you what to expect. Now strip.”
Every inch of her body warmed. For several seconds she debated refusing him. The inner deliberation continued even as she began unfastening the endless row of tiny buttons running the length of her bodice.
“Faster,” he ordered.
Her fingers shook so dreadfully she feared she’d disappoint him. What was this need to please him? To bend so readily to his every command? She couldn’t comprehend it but already that feeling, the one she couldn’t describe or define, started to come over her. It was as if her very blood had begun to thicken, as if some inner space inside her expanded. Her mind went so easily to that place where it relaxed and surrendered to the physical—to Adam.
She shrugged free of her bodice.
“Drop it,” he said.
She obeyed then untied the drawstring holding up her skirt and the other that anchored her petticoat and bustle. Already she sensed that elusive freedom she’d come to know only yesterday. A part of her understood Adam’s lure toward opium because one day had doomed her to sate this indescribable yearning to abandon all control, to subject herself fully to Adam’s will.
As she continued the labor-intensive process of shedding layer upon layer of her clothing she occasionally glanced at Adam. The way his gaze moved over her thrilled her and filled her with the desire to prolong even this tedious task.
Once she’d stripped down to her pantalets, stockings and stays he uncrossed his legs and then crossed them again. “Look at you, naughty girl.”
Her pulse ran riot as he stood, walked to his wardrobe and drew open the door, the inside of which was fully mirrored. After securing it open he returned to his seat. “Watch yourself. See what a wanton display you’re making.”
Oh yes…
“Take off your drawers,” he ordered.
Liquid gathered in her center. Her clitoris throbbed, aching for his touch, which she knew he’d withhold as long as possible. The bastard.
Fingering the robin’s-egg-blue ribbon holding up her pantalets, she watched herself for a moment before pulling the string and releasing the fine lawn cotton so that it slithered down her legs.
“Are you wet?” he asked, his voice rougher but softer than before.
“Yes.”
“The time for play is over. Henceforth you will refer to me as Master or else you will be punished.”
A warm shiver shook her. “Yes Master.”
“Now once more. Are you wet?”
“Yes Master, I…I’m w-wet.”
He scoffed. “You don’t know for certain. Reach between your legs, touch yourself and show me.”
Holding her breath, she watched in the mirror as she eased her fingers between her legs, burrowing them into the warmth of her dark-brown thatch. Jolts of pleasure rolled through her in rapid waves as her fingers came into contact with her hardened clitoris. More slippery liquid flooded her crevice.
“You little trollop. Touching yourself. Does it feel good?”
Call me names. Yes, yes… She felt drunk. “Yes Master.”
“Show me how wet you are.”
Reluctantly she removed her hand and displayed her fingers for him, seeing how they glistened in the light.
He crooked his index finger. “Come here.”
Hoping he’d relieve this maddening need, she hurried to him but he only took her wrist, brought her hand to his mouth and sucked the cream from her fingertips. She whimpered in disappointment.
He sat back. “No more dallying. Finish undressing.”
“Before the mirror, Master?” She shivered upon uttering his new title. Why did it heighten her desire to refer to him as such?
“No. Here.”
Impatient to be totally naked, she rolled down her stockings and removed them and her slippers. Her corset was not as easy to discard. Midge had laced her far too tightly. To make matters worse Primrose’s struggle with loosening the laces seemed to amuse Adam.
Finally she slackened the tapes enough to wriggle the hated garment down over her hips. Once she removed her camisole she was blissfully naked.
She drew in a deep breath, feeling life-givin
g oxygen course through her like the bubbles in a glass of champagne. Excitement surged in her breast. Now that she was completely bare he’d surely touch her.
Instead he rose once more and sauntered to his wardrobe where he drew open one of the drawers, unlocked a secret compartment and then retrieved a delicate gold chain with what appeared to be a collar on one end and some sort of bauble on the other.
As he neared her, she saw that the collar had been encrusted with diamonds and sapphires. It was beautiful and she shivered with pleasure as he stepped behind her and encircled her neck with it. “From now on you will wear this during your…training.”
She melted a little at the feel of his warm fingers brushing against the skin at her nape.
“Yes Master. Thank you.” But as thrilled as she was with this elaborate show of ownership, she wondered about the chain that hung heavily against her back—and the weighty crystal ornament attached to the other end. The trinket seemed an odd little thing in contrast to the elegant collar.
“Kneel on the chair facing the back.”
With the crystal swinging against the backs of her thighs, she climbed onto the rich leather chair as he instructed.
“Chin on the headrest.”
Bending and leaning forward, she lowered her chin to the back of the chair. The bauble swayed between her legs and realization struck. He meant to insert that thing in her!
Her stop word hovered on her lips as he straightened the chain along her spine and gathered the trinket into one hand. Her breath caught as without warning the fingers of his other hand plundered her, two inside her channel, stroking but without the intent to please. She moaned her protest as he withdrew them and swirled them in her sopping juices.
“Spread your legs to the edges of the seat.”
With a hard swallow she complied, relaxing into the burning stretch in her inner thighs.
“Hands clasped on your back.”
Shuddering, she did as she was told, feeling the chain nestled between her wrists and her spine as she folded her hands together. Her eyes closed as his fingers slid over the sensitive strip of flesh connecting her two openings. One finger circled her anus, spreading her cream around the ever-tightening flesh.
“Relax, darling. This won’t hurt.”
How could it not? She tensed. He prodded. “Let me inside,” he coaxed, wriggling the tip of his finger into her. Her brain chastised her for allowing this. She pressed her lips together tightly to keep from uttering her word. After all, he was right. It didn’t actually…hurt.
“That’s it,” he said when her muscles loosened. His finger prodded deeper. “See, you can take this comfortably.”
“Y-yes.” Her every thought, every sensation was riveted to that one spot.
“Yes what?”
“Yes Master.”
“Do you know what I’m going to do with this?” He stroked the cool crystal pendant along the curve of her buttock.
Oh she could speculate. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter. “Mm-hmm.”
He let out a little laugh as he bettered his position behind her and swirled the crystal through the liquid between her legs. Her nipples hardened and her clit pounded as the finger in her bottom retreated and she felt the blunt tip of the pendant nudging her.
He pushed it in slowly. Holding her breath, she gritted her teeth against the tight stretch as her body gave way to accommodate the invasion. It slid smoothly inside, every bit as deeply as his finger and then her body closed around the slender neck of the base. She’d expected pain but there was only this coolness, this erotic fullness—this awakening of taboo sexual pleasure.
Involuntary muscle contractions protested against the invasion of her bum. Her clitoris burned from want of attention.
He patted her bottom. “You’ll remain this way until I tell you to do otherwise.”
No! Please give me release! Please! Instead of begging, she whimpered piteously.
“And then I’ll punish you for not remembering that you are to remain naked in my presence.”
Now, do it now…
Her heart sank as he walked away. Instinct prodded her to straighten, to watch, to see where he was going. Fear that he’d make her wait longer for his attentions kept her perfectly still.
A keen knowledge inundated her as she listened to the everyday sounds of him milling about in his chambers. He sat in a chair across the room. The leather gave under his weight. The crisply ironed newspaper rustled as he opened it. Did he mean to leave her here while he read the blasted Times?
Physical sensation quickly took precedence over anything else. Her knees began to ache against the tufted seat of her chair. The back of her neck stiffened from her strained position and her shoulders began to burn from holding her arms behind her back. And oh that devilish device in her bum! Nerve endings never before stimulated awakened and cried out for more. Her passage clenched around its own emptiness, her inner muscles causing the crystal plug to shift.
Superseding it all was the peace she knew only when Adam stripped her of her free will.
After several minutes, she heard him rise and put the paper away. His footsteps fell soft on the plush carpet, but—oh no!—he wasn’t coming for her. Instead he moved away toward the door.
Her fingers knotted into fists as she combated the urge to call after him.
“I trust I don’t have to tell you that I’ll know if you’ve moved,” he said as he opened the door.
“Y-yes Master,” she said, her voice thick with need.
The door closed and then he was gone.
* * * * *
Adam leaned against the wall outside his room. Primrose had looked so bloody beautiful in her submission that he’d struggled with abstaining from fucking her as soon as he’d put that plug in her ass.
Her submission was so perfect, so sublime. She thrived on it. He’d known she’d take to the birch and crop from the first time he’d laid eyes on her but he’d thought she would never get past the initial step of acquiescence. Most submissives had a prudish side that was harder to tame than their desire to be sexually humiliated.
He’d known all kinds. Those who derived heightened states from the pain alone, those who wanted to be forced to do things they already wanted to do. And then those like Primrose who enjoyed only a mild amount of pain and a vast amount of shaming domination. She’d bloom in the club’s setting where a hundred pairs of eyes would be there to witness her pleasurable punishments.
Adam shifted his weight from one leg to the other in hopes of alleviating the discomfort of his erection.
Before, with the others he’d dominated he’d been in supreme command, delivering precisely what they needed for their pleasure. His own pleasure had been in seeing them to satisfaction. That had been enough for him.
Not with Primrose. On her knees she controlled him every bit as much as he controlled her.
He’d intended to visit the earl, to see if the old man needed anything to make him more comfortable. But Adam knew he couldn’t go like this.
“Damn it all to hell,” he muttered and stormed back into his room. In a fury he snatched a leather paddle from his wardrobe then planted one hand at the base of Primrose’s spine to anchor her.
Slow down, fool, he told himself. It wouldn’t do to let her see the power she held over him.
“Are you ready?” he asked tersely.
“Yes Master,” she said, her voice rich and silky as hot cocoa.
“Five licks,” he said, calming himself enough to caress the back of her thigh with the paddle. “Tell me why.”
Her skin rippled as a shudder swept through her. “F-for wearing clothes when you told me not to.”
“Precisely.” He flicked the tip of the paddle lightly between her legs and she moaned as it came into contact with her mons. “You’ve been a terribly naughty, disobedient girl, haven’t you?”
“Yes Master.”
“You will ask me and then thank me for each lick, for correcting your wayward beh
avior. Understand?”
“Please may I have the first, Master?”
His eyes closed briefly as he savored the moment. Her skin felt like warm velvet under his fingertips as he splayed them across her tailbone. The tip end of the plug protruded from her rosette, wiggling seductively as her body constricted around it.
She stiffened, waiting. “Relax,” he told her and when he felt her muscles go lax, he delivered the first blow, a smack that provided just enough sting to kindle a fire in her bottom.
“Mmm, thank you, Master. The second please.”
Shifting slightly, he smacked the other cheek, delighting in the rosy blush his paddle left behind. “That’s so lovely.”
The tip of the plug protruding from her bottom raised and then lowered slightly as she clenched. “Thank you Master. The third.”
Her third swat was hard enough to make her gasp. She shivered, making the chain running from her collar to the plug slither like a golden snake against her spine. Her fists tightened. “Thank you, Master. The fourth.”
Gauging her arousal, he decided to deliver an equally hard lick. The smack echoed in the room and she let out a tiny cry. The muscles in her thighs quivered for a moment before she dipped her spine down, offering him her bottom. “Thank you, Master.” Her voice was low, breathy. “The fifth please.”
He inhaled and applied the paddle with a firm, hard swat that made her cheeks jiggle. This time she mewled and rested her forehead on the back of the chair. Her body shook.
And then he saw a single tear fall and splash on the leather seat next to her knee. His heart tightened. Panic swamped him. He’d been too harsh. He’d taken her too far, too quickly. Why hadn’t she used her stop word?
He knew better, but he couldn’t resist asking, “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head and sniffed.
“Primrose?” he said, slipping his fingers under her shoulder to lift her.
Her tear-filled gaze found his. “P-please take me. Please. I need you inside me, Master.”
Stunned, he gathered her into his arms and carried her to his bed. She was still deep in her submission so he didn’t remove the collar or the plug. Instead he undid his breeches, climbed onto the bed, moved over her and thrust inside her.