"I am speechless," he muttered taking her hands from his shoulders and stepping back. "Truly speechless, and I must thank you. It is a scandalously wonderful surprise."
"So I've pleased you?"
"Flora, you have more than pleased me," he said softly, pulling her against him and moving his hands to cup the cheeks of her naked bottom.
His words thrilled her, his grasp on her flesh was beyond her imaginings, she could feel his hardness pressing against her, and raising her head she looked up at him with a questioning gaze.
"Zane, will I, uh—sorry, I don't know how to ask this?"
"Will you what? You need not be shy with me, Flora, not about anything."
"See you?"
Her voice had been barely a whisper, and softly smiling he nodded his head.
"Indeed you will. Now please kneel in front of that chair," he directed, gesturing towards the tufted armchair near the fireplace. "Place your hands behind your back, lower your eyes, and do not look at me when I sit in front of you."
Needing a moment to steady herself she took a long breath before starting away, but as she moved past him he grabbed her arm.
"When I give you an instruction you must say, yes, Master Zane."
"Oh, sorry, yes, Master Zane."
"If you forget I will punish you."
Her eyes darted up. His expression wasn't stern, but he wasn't smiling either, and a fresh flurry fluttered through her stomach.
"Yes, Master Zane."
He released her elbow, and walking the few steps to the chair she was grateful to sink on her knees. There was nothing about what was happening that was frightening or giving her pause. On the contrary, for reasons she couldn't fathom it felt comforting, and she liked waiting for him in such a demure position.
As Zane gathered up her dress and petticoats and carried them across to the sofa, the familiar joy was seeping through his body. This was when he was the most content, and it was especially wonderful because it was Flora at his mercy. He suspected she would take to his dominance as she had to everything else he'd presented, with passionate enthusiasm, and if she did he would be hard-pressed to leave her.
Had he finally met the woman with whom he could spend his life?
Taking a wife had never entered his mind, but Flora…Flora was different, and so was what he felt for her. She had lived in the forefront of his mind since she'd left his house, and he'd been euphoric when he'd seen her. Glancing across the room he felt his heart swell. The fire was bathing her in a golden glow and she looked like an angel. His semi-hard cock bloomed to full attention, and as he moved back to her, he was filled with a desire to completely devour her.
"You look beautiful in your lingerie," he said softly. "How do you feel?"
"Not as self-conscious as I think I should."
Zane smiled. It was an interesting answer, and another glimpse into who she was.
"If you and I were together you would be required to wear certain items of lingerie at certain times, and just as you did for me this morning, I would instruct you to go without knickers. I would have you naked under your beautiful gowns at balls and dinners. Why do you think I'd want you that way?"
"So you could touch between my legs," she whispered, then tentatively added, "May I look at you, Master Zane?"
"You may," he replied delighted by the manner in which she'd asked permission.
"Is it wicked of me to say that I would love to attend such functions with you that way? I think sharing such a wicked secret would be exhilarating."
She was taking his breath away, and leaning forward he clutched her hair and lowered his mouth on to hers. It was a soft kiss, a loving kiss, a kiss that told her how adored she was, but then it changed, and his fingers tightened their grip as he hungrily devoured her lips.
"Close your eyes and remain still," he muttered finally pulling back.
"Yes, Master Zane"
His kiss had left her breathless, and she yearned to climb into his lap, to feel his hold, and to kiss him again, but suddenly his finger was inside her pussy stripping her of thought. It was the most divine thing she'd ever felt, but it was barely a touch and she wanted more. She wriggled against his hand, and was instantly rewarded with a hard slap on the side of her naked thigh.
"OW!"
"I instructed you to remain still."
"I'm sorry, it's just…"
"An exciting feeling, I know, but you must obey me."
As his finger continued its teasing exploration, it took all her self-control to remain motionless, and when he began to massage her clit she let out a long deep moan.
"Open your eyes and shuffle around so your back is towards me," he instructed dropping his hand away.
"Yes, Master Zane," she murmured, and though a part of her was relieved the tantalizing torment was over, another part of her had never wanted it to end.
He watched her slowly move, and as her naked bottom came into view a smile crossed his lips; it would soon be turning a delightful pink under the stinging slaps of his hand. He had always viewed corsets as a form of bondage, a garment to be used as punishment, and as he unlaced the ribbon he heard a long relieved sigh.
"There, I'm sure that feels much better," he said softly, slipping it off her and lowering his lips to kiss her neck.
"Much. Thank you, Master Zane."
Sliding his hands under her chemise he sought out her breasts, delighting in her moans and gasps as he kneaded, and when he began tweaking her nipples, her utterances of pain sent fresh energy to his loins. He ached to sweep her up and carry her to the bed, but there was more to accomplish before he would be able to savor her.
"Bend over and place your elbows on the floor," he murmured withdrawing his hands from her breasts.
She hesitated, and Zane understood why. It was a lewd position, one that would expose all her charms.
"If you're uncomfortable and don't wish to assume the position please tell me," he said gently. "I'll count to three. If you haven't done what I've instructed I'll help you dress."
But Zane had misunderstood her reticence. Flora had no objection to following his order. Yes, it was an embarrassing thought, and yes, her face was already flaming red, but she was hesitating because she wanted to see what would happen. Would he spank her? Would he become upset? Would he scold her? It hadn't occurred to her that he'd bring everything to a halt
"One—two—"
Falling forward she rested on her elbows, and to show her complete compliance she arched her back and spread her knees.
Resting his hands on her cheeks he gazed at her glistening womanhood. She was embracing her surrender, and he could feel her utter commitment. She was filling his heart with wonder, but she was also making his head spin.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Zane had been relishing every whimper, every sharp intake of breath, and every moan of pleasure. He'd been languidly teasing her, and each time she'd neared her climax he'd paused to stroke her inner thighs or pinch her nipples. Her pussy was now soaked and she was breathless with need.
"Raise yourself on to your hands and move so you're sideways to me."
"Yes, Master Zane."
She had mumbled her response, and as she shifted around he noticed her usually pale face was scarlet.
"Are you all right?" he asked, roaming his hand over her backside.
"I feel amazing," she softly replied, turning her head and looking at him with half-lidded eyes. "As if I've been drinking wine."
"You have, and now you're going to sip some more. I'm going to spank you."
Though she didn't question him she crinkled her brow.
"This isn't discipline. I'm spanking you for my pleasure. The smacks will sting a little but they won't be punishing. There is a rule though. You're not allowed to make a sound. If you do I'll spank you harder for disobeying me. Understood?"
"Yes, Master Zane."
"Spread your knees further apart. Yes, like that."
He began to slap in a slow, e
asy rhythm, rubbing her after each smack and adding an occasional pinch. When her skin had turned a warm shade of pink he returned his fingers to her sex, but still she made not a sound. Resuming the spanking he landed some harder swats, then once more paused to tickle her pussy, then spanked again, continuing the pattern until her bottom was sufficiently stained, finishing with three quick slaps on each cheek.
"There, you're done. Turn towards me and kneel up."
Keeping her eyes lowered she shuffled around and faced him, immediately placing her hands behind her back. Her complete acquiescence touched his heart, and placing his finger under her chin he tilted up her head.
"Look at me."
She lifted her gaze.
For the first time he no longer saw her eyes filled with defiance, and opening his arms he silently invited her into his lap. Crawling on to his thighs she nestled against him, and as he wrapped her up he leaned back his head and let out a heavy sigh. There was just the two of them in the world. He wasn't sure how long they drifted together, but when she shifted and stirred him from his doze he scooped her up and carried her across to the bed. Laying her down, he quickly stripped, then climbing on the bed he rested beside her.
"Are you ready for more wine?" he crooned planting soft quick kisses across her face.
"I'm dying of thirst," she softly replied, a smile crossing her lips, "though I already feel quite drunk."
Lifting her chemise up and over her head he tossed it aside, then gazed down at her gloriously naked breasts.
"Lovelier than I even imagined," he murmured. "You truly are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."
He nibbled on her nipples for a moment, then straddling her body he took hold of her wrists, held them on either side of her head, then slowly lowered himself on top of her and stretched his legs out behind him.
"I want you to close your eyes and feel my weight. If you relax enough it will feel as if I'm melting into you. Think of nothing, Flora, just let go."
He had whispered the words in her ear, and as the seconds ticked by he could feel her body growing limp. Then he heard it; the long sweet sigh of surrender.
"This is amazing," she breathed. "We have, we've melted into each other."
It was true. It was how she felt, and she never wanted the moment to end, but she became aware of his manhood resting between her thighs. Would he send it inside her? The thought sent a strange ripple through her body, and sensing the change Zane raised his head.
"What just happened?"
The question surprised her, and she felt the familiar flush cross her face.
"I, uh, I can feel you between my legs, and, uh, are you going to enter me?"
"I want to more than I can say," he said softly, "but I cannot. Your maidenhead belongs to your marriage bed."
He had almost said, belongs to your husband, but his instinct had told him not to use the word and he'd caught himself just in time, but as he stared at her, the longing in her eyes was almost too much to resist.
Fighting the temptation he released her wrists, shifted down her body, and sent his mouth to her breasts. As she bleated her pleasure he moved his hand against her pussy, pressing his fingers into her slick seam eliciting a long soft moan.
"Imagine your ankles tied wide apart to the posts of my bed," he whispered, his lips at her ear, "and your wrists are bound together above your head. Imagine my tongue lapping at your skin, and my hand lightly slapping you like this," he said, suddenly darting his hand from her womanhood to land a tingling blow to the inside of her thighs.
"Aaaah! Yes, Master Zane, yes, I want you to do all those things."
"Reach down and take my cock."
"Into my hand?" she gasped. "You want me to grasp it?"
It was her first falter but it didn't surprise him, and raising himself up he took hold of her wrist and moved it towards his crotch.
"I'll stop if this is making you uncomfortable?"
"No, no," she said hastily, "I want to do it."
"Is that the truth?"
"It is, but I don't know why I'm so nervous about it."
"Does my hand feel nice when I touch your womanhood?"
"It feels wonderful, so wonderful I never want you to stop."
"That's how your hand will feel on me."
"I'm so glad you put it like that," she purred, reaching down and tentatively wrapping her fingers around him.
"Don't let it go, Flora, no matter what."
"I'll do my best. It's a strange thing to hold it though."
"It won't be strange for very long. I'm going to let you orgasm now, and remember, keep it in your hand."
He heard her sigh of gratitude, and with the divine feeling of her grip around his cock he returned his fingers to palpitate her clit.
Flora was beside herself. She had never felt so alive or craved an orgasm so desperately. His mouth had fallen on to her nipples and was sending fresh waves of pleasure through her body, and the way he was agitating her clit was sending her higher and higher. She was sure when she climaxed she would split into a thousand pieces, then suddenly the tsunami washed over her and she was tumbling through the glorious spasms.
As Zane watched the paroxysm of pleasure take hold, her grasp around his manhood tightened sending scintillating sparks through his loins. Clenching his teeth he managed to keep his climax at bay until her convulsions began to wane, and as her fingers loosened he grabbed his cock from her hand and fervently massaged himself into his climax. She had fallen limp alongside him, but his heart was pounding furiously and he was gulping in the air. As the last spasm passed he flopped down next to her, reaching out and wiping his hand against the sheet at the edge of the bed. She was already rolling over to snuggle against him, and still trying to catch his breath he pulled her up in his arms.
"I think I died and went to heaven," she murmured dreamily. "I never want this to end."
As she curled against him and drifted away, Zane let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes. He could feel the crackling warmth of the fire and became aware of rain pounding the house. It was almost surreal, and the onerous doubts that had been plaguing him seemed far less significant. They were a match and he absolutely adored her. Why shouldn't they be together? His feelings for her went far beyond simple lust, but even as he began to consider the idea of a life with her a new concern rose up.
Could he be with just one woman for the rest of his days?
The question loomed and he realized it was the most important question of all. If her family uncovered his wicked lifestyle he could convince them that his wandering days were over and his love for their daughter was the most important thing in his life. The landed gentry cared about titles, and though his country no longer viewed the nobility as the English did, his heritage could not be denied. When they learned who he was and the vast holdings of his estate he was sure it would take care of any lingering worries they might have.
But was he capable of being faithful? Would one woman be enough for him?
"Tea," she mumbled breaking into his deep pondering. "I'm dying for a cup of tea."
"It's undoubtedly turned cold but I agree," he replied. "Unfortunately Anne has sent Carstairs off on an errand."
"It's not like we could pull the bell cord and ask them to bring us a tray," she giggled.
"We certainly couldn't. I must say, it was very good of Anne to arrange all this for us."
"She loves me and she knew how badly I needed to see you."
"I'm very grateful to her. Shall we move over to the fire and see if the tea in the pot is at least warm enough to drink?"
"I suppose, though I wish I had a robe."
"Put on my shirt. It will be as long as a robe."
"I would love to wear your shirt," she beamed sitting up, then her expression suddenly growing serious she added, "this is all so wonderful. I don't want it to end."
"I agree with that as well," he replied, "and you are remarkable Miss Flora Braithwaite."
"I know," s
he twinkled. "It took you long enough to realize that."
"Cheeky girl," he grinned, and deftly yanking her over his lap be started playfully slapping her.
Letting out a squeal she wriggled away from him, and jumping off the bed she grabbed his shirt and pulled it over her head as she hurried to the coffee table.
"It's not horribly cold," she remarked pouring the tea and taking a sip. "More like tepid. It's really quite nice."
"Tepid is acceptable," he remarked donning his trousers.
As they enjoyed their lukewarm tea, the finger sandwiches and small tasty cakes, they began talking about their respective lives. Flora told him about her dear brother George and how he'd always looked out for her, and asked Zane about his life in Paris and the house in which he lived.
"It's not really a house," he said vaguely. "It's quite large. It's been in my family for generations."
"Am I going to see it?"
He paused, searching for an honest answer, an answer that would satisfy her.
"Is that a no?" she pressed.
"It is not a no. Let me say this, it would give me great pleasure to show it to you, and even greater pleasure to have you stay there with me."
Deciding any further such questions would spoil their magical time she changed the subject. There was something she could ask him that was safe, and it was something she was dying to know.
"By any chance are you attending Lord Stewart's ball on Saturday night?"
"Yes I am, and funny you should ask. I was going to ask you the same thing."
"You were?"
"Did you know your father sent an excellent bottle of Lheraud Cognac to my house with a very kind note of thanks? I wrote back of course, but did you tell him you were with me?"
"Of course not. The police told him. He asked them to find out who had rescued me."
"Ah, that makes sense. I would have done the same. It was a bit of a shock to receive it."
"He assumes you're part of a family."
"This misconception must be corrected," he said solemnly. "I thought about calling around to your home—"
"No, you can't possibly," she protested. "You're much too dashing. He could jump to the wrong conclusion."
Master Zane_The Rogue Aristocrat Page 11