by Golden Angel
"Ah... do you think she'll be amenable to that?" Hugh asked, looking rather doubtful. He would have greater insight on Lady Grace than most, Irene realized, considering his sister's close friendship with the woman. Not that she blamed Eleanor for her loyalty to a friend, even if she thought that her sister-in-law could have better taste in said friends.
"Highly doubtful," Alex said, shrugging his shoulder as if it didn't matter, but Irene could see that it did. Just because he didn't show his emotions very well didn't mean he was without them; Grace's desertion and actions had hurt him and Irene had always been able to see that. "I wouldn't be surprised if she makes me grovel."
"How can you even countenance that?" Irene cried out, infuriated on his behalf. "She should be grateful for another chance to be your wife and to redeem her reputation."
"Perhaps, but if I ever want an heir then I must play by her rules."
It was on the tip of Irene's tongue that he should just divorce her, but she bit down before the words could escape her mouth. After all, she certainly didn't want Hugh to think that she approved of something as shockingly scandalous as ending a marriage, not when they themselves were so newly-wed and she'd almost ruined their own relationship. Besides which, the indifferent pragmatism in Alex's voice rather took her aback.
Was that how he planned to broach the subject to Lady Grace?
"I hope that's not how you plan on approaching her," Hugh said, half-choking on a laugh as he echoed Irene's thought. He looked both fascinated and slightly horrified. "I can't imagine the lady appreciating your reasoning. Grace was always ah... quite romantic. Flowers or some other gesture might work better."
For the first time, Irene felt a small spurt of sympathy for Lady Grace; she couldn't understand Alex's reasoning either. If Alex didn't care for the woman, why did he want to use her as a brood mare? Because that's all it sounded like he wanted from her, an heir. Irene couldn't believe that he had started out their marriage that way; although lately she had begun to question her perceptions of Alex, she'd never thought he would value a wife for nothing other than her ability to bear him an heir.
"I've sent her quite a number of flowers over the years," Alex muttered. "It doesn't seem to have made much of a difference."
"I'm sure you'll think of something. Myself, in such situations, I prefer the stick over the carrot."
Heat rose in Irene's cheeks; it was a very oblique reference to the spanking that Alex had witnessed. At the time, he'd said he was thinking about using such tactics on his own wife. It had been shocking to know that Alex didn't disapprove of such discipline, but despite his words that night she still couldn't quite believe that he would ever do such a thing. Even to his wayward wife.
But then again, Irene had already proven to herself that she didn't know Alex the way she thought she had. She would have never thought he’d stand mildly by while any man, even her husband, spanked her.
And when she'd first married Hugh, if someone had asked, she would have never thought him capable of such a thing either. He claimed that Edwin was also a strict disciplinarian to Eleanor, who had grown up with such punishments. It was all rather bewildering sometimes. But she couldn't deny that there were certainly worse things than being spanked, and that she had certainly deserved some kind of retribution for her actions. Hugh was fair. She was sure that Alex would be too.
"I've been thinking about it," Alex said, although the shortness of his tone indicated that he didn’t want the conversation to go any further down that line of thinking.
Irene knew her friend, if he was even considering it than the outcome was a foregone conclusion. Alex was very decisive over the things he absolutely would not do. She wouldn't be surprised if he tried more conventional tactics first, but if Grace proved to be as stubborn as she had been over the past years, Irene had no doubt that Alex would prove a strict disciplinarian. In her youth she wouldn't have been able to imagine it; now she saw that he had hardened and grown jaded.
To her mind, Lady Grace deserved a sound punishment, even if inwardly she winced with sympathy at the thought of a spanking.
******
Alone in their bedroom, later that night, Hugh indulged in his favorite routine - brushing Irene's long, red hair. The strands gleamed in the candlelight, sliding against his palm like silk. She always sat patiently, watching him in the mirror, and allowing him to indulge for as long as he wanted. The way her eyelids would flutter, half-closed, indicated her own pleasure in the act.
"Stand up," he said suddenly, realizing that he'd stopped brushing and was watching the rise and fall of her breasts under the thin, silk night rail that she was wearing.
No matter that she never slept in a garment, she always insisted on putting one on before bedtime. It was fast becoming one of Hugh's fantasies to have his wife walking around naked before him, covered in nothing but her shining hair, as he prepared for bed.
Her eyes fluttered all the way open in surprise, but she stood without protest, a small smile lighting up her face. Hugh loved seeing the flashes of her passionate sensuality through the modesty and propriety that had been hammered into her over the years.
Tilting her head back at him, her smile grew. "Thank you so much for bringing Alex here tonight."
While Alex was certainly not something Hugh particularly wanted to discuss right now, he did enjoy the way that Irene was looking up at him. As if he'd done something noble and heroic. Which made it all worth it.
"I assumed we'd be seeing more of him in the future anyway, and I didn't want things to be awkward," he murmured as he stroked his fingers along the silk covering her shoulder, tugging it gently downward to reveal her creamy skin.
"You're an incredibly generous man," she said solemnly, placing her hands on his chest and looking up at him earnestly. Those guileless green eyes were completely open to him, something that he savored as it had only happened recently, after everything had happened with Alex. Until then he hadn't realized how much Irene had kept parts of herself hidden to him; since then she'd been his, all his and he reveled in it. "I don't deserve you."
"I heartily disagree, Lady Stanley," he said, lowering his mouth to hers for a kiss.
It was evident to Hugh that she still felt a great deal of guilt over her actions a few weeks past, as well as trying to run from him afterwards. While he understood that she hadn't liked being spanked, at all, it had certainly brought about a pleasing change in behavior. Hugh had enjoyed spanking her much more than he thought he would, although he didn't feel a pressing need to indulge unless she truly deserved it.
Just Irene, warm and wet and eager, was all he needed to be perfectly satisfied in his marital bed.
She welcomed his tongue into her mouth, her body pressing against his so that he could feel her rounded breasts flattening against his chest. Normally she wasn't quite so demonstrative right away; apparently good deeds came with rewards. Hugh wasn't going to complain.
In fact it was all he could do to keep himself from ripping off both of their clothes and having her then and there on her dressing table. But he managed the slow journey across the bedroom, leaving a trail of his clothing along the way, and allowing her to keep on her nightgown until they reached the bed. Then he stripped the garment off so that he could enjoy the dancing candlelight over her body. He was quite sure that Irene got a secret thrill out of being exposed by him and never knowing when he was going to undress her. Overcoming her reluctance, heating her body to the point where she stopped caring about propriety, was always a most enjoyable endeavor.
"Onto the bed," he ordered huskily, enjoying her hot blush as she scampered to the middle of the mattress, her hands hovering uncertainly above her body. Irene's first instinct once she was unclothed, unless he was touching her, was to cover herself again. Which, of course, only made him want her more. "Spread your legs."
"Oh Hugh..." she huffed, covering her face to hide her mortification as she let her legs fall open a few inches.
Laughing, Hugh gr
asped her by her ankles and spread them wider as she squealed in surprise. Immediately her hands came down from her face, hiding her copper-covered mound from his sight. Seeing her slim fingers laid across those coppery curls and swollen pink lips inflamed Hugh even further.
"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, covering her hand with his own and pressing her fingers into the dewy petals of her womanhood. "I've been aching to see you touch yourself."
Unsurprisingly, Irene gasped and tried to tug her hand away, but Hugh just pressed it in more firmly, watching as he forced her to massage herself. "Hugh... stop! It's... I shouldn't... it's indecent!"
"It's delightful," he countered, feeling the wetness spread between her fingers and begin to slicken his own. The head of his cock brushed against her thigh as her legs moved fitfully, trying to close and hide her private areas from his view. Not that he was having any of that. His body was firmly wedged in such a way that she wouldn't be able to close her legs unless he allowed her - and he certainly wasn't going to do that. "You have no idea how enticing you look, with your hand between your legs, touching your quim... ."
Leaning forward, he lowered his mouth to her nipple, unrelentingly pressing her fingers into her core as he sucked the taut, pink tip into his mouth. Both rosy nips were tightly budded, indicating her increased arousal as did the flowing wetness that was now coating both of their fingers. Whimpering, Irene arched her back, thrusting her breasts up towards his mouth as her hips moved convulsively.
Irene groaned as the wanton desires running rampant through her body shredded away at her self-control. While she enjoyed the fact that Hugh was always willing to show her whatever she was curious about, every time she thought that he had shown her everything he possibly could, he would surprise her with something new. He'd practically growled when he'd seen her hand stroking between her legs, even though she wasn't being given a choice about it.
She felt incredibly embarrassed about touching herself in such an indecent way, but she also recognized that Hugh truly did enjoy seeing her do so. Although sometimes she wondered if part of his enjoyment came from her shock and initial reluctance. She had to admit, some secret part of her thrilled with excitement when her husband pushed her past the boundaries she set for herself... she especially enjoyed challenging him and making him push. His impatience with her night rails always amused her, even as it aroused her, when he would endeavor to convince her to leave any kind of garment off before bed. Still, the thought of walking before him, completely and brazenly nude, took more courage that she had.
It was easier to wear the night rail, cover herself, and have Hugh show his interest, rather than exposing herself in such a way.
The wetness at her fingertips grew as Hugh continued to lavish affection on her nipples, still forcing her to stroke her folds. When he finally shifted, pulling her hand away, her sensitive lips felt swollen and hot, ready for his cock. She gasped when he pulled her hand to his mouth, deliberately sucking each of her honey soaked fingers between his lips and cleaning them with his tongue as he stared directly into her eyes. The way his tongue traveled along her slender fingers, the insistent suckling, seemed to have a direct route to her core, which blossomed with arousal at the completely decadent act.
Releasing her fingers, damp from his ministrations, he lowered his mouth to hers and shared the taste of her sweetness, her musk. The smell of her arousal filled her nose, the taste lingered in her mouth, and she moaned at the forbidden eroticism of it.
The blunt head of Hugh's cock nudged against her and she widened her legs further, welcoming him into her body. They both groaned as he pressed and slid inwards, stretching her open. The heat of her channel seared him, pulled at him, the slick wetness allowing him to easily breach the entrance of her body and fully embed himself within her.
Claiming her lips again, their tongues danced as he flexed his spine and began to thrust, slowly and steadily, as she wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs. As much as Irene might try to pull him into her, deeper, faster, he was far stronger and amused himself by taking his time, driving her completely, wantonly wild in his arms. Her nails dug in, body straining and arching beneath him, as she rocked upwards, seeking her culmination and unable to reach it as his weight held her down and forced her to his slower rhythm.
"Please Hugh... oh please...." Irene begged, her lips peppering kisses across his tensed lower jaw as he speared her with another controlled thrust. "I want... I need..."
"What? What do you need, darling?" he asked, his voice rough with the effort of retreating and then slowly sinking back into her while she pleaded with him. He had stripped away her manners, her propriety, and turned her into a creature of sensual desire... it was fast becoming his favorite pastime in fact. There was nothing more satisfying to him than making Irene wild with want, to hear her sweetly begging him for release.
"Harder... oh God... Hugh... faster!"
The entreaties flew from her lips, followed by cries of pleasure as she tightened around him, her tight walls spasming as her ecstasy peaked. Hugh groaned, his hips pounding furiously between her legs, relinquishing the reins on his self-control and let his body fly free. She was hot, wet, tight, and rippling around him as he plowed her, ravaged her, and she clutched at him as she shrieked with almost painful pleasure from the sudden rough stimulation.
When he buried himself inside of her completely, his cock swelling, he deliberately rubbed his groin against her sensitive folds in a circular motion, making her cry out and tighten as her swollen clit was caught between their bodies. Her pussy milked him, sucking as his cock until he burst inside of her, hot jets of seed spurting and filling her.
His breathing ragged, he slumped over her, listening to her soft moaning breaths as she quivered and stilled beneath him.
Once they had caught their breath and rearranged themselves to their usual sleeping position - Irene curled up against him, her soft bottom pressing against his groin - Hugh found that his thoughts didn't want to quiet. Irene's soft, even breathing showed that she'd fallen asleep easily enough, but all he could think about was his friends.
He wondered what Wesley would think of Alex's decision to reconnect with Grace. Even if it didn't happen right away, Wesley would again be the odd man out when it came to marriage. Hugh knew that Wesley had felt as though he'd grown out of touch with Hugh and Edwin, especially on the advent of their weddings, and thought he had found a kindred spirit in Alex. How would Wesley feel once he finally got his ward off his hands and returned to his usual life?
Chapter 4
Cynthia gave a start of surprise when she walked into the dining room for breakfast and found Lord Spencer seated there, reading a newspaper. The Countess rarely took breakfast outside of her own room, but Cynthia hated being cooped up in one small space for any length of time, so the staff was used to serving her breakfast downstairs. What she wasn't used to, was sharing the space.
To her further surprise, as she moved towards her seat, Lord Spencer put down his paper and got to his feet, according her the respect that she was due as a lady. She just hadn't really thought he saw her as such. How could he spank her, lecture her, and otherwise act as if he didn't think she was capable of propriety (although she certainly was, when she was in the mood to be), and then treat her like a lady over breakfast? Yesterday he'd treated her as more of a nuisance than anything else.
"Good morning," he said briskly, gesturing that she should take the seat by his side.
It wasn't right that a man should look so good first thing in the morning. So rakish. And yet he was such a stuffy prig with her.
"Good morning," she said, determined to be amiable. It was too early to try for a spanking, even if her bottom was feeling much recovered. Besides, he might decide on some other punishment, like retracting permission to have tea with Eleanor that afternoon. And Cynthia very much wanted to have tea with the friendly woman. Especially since Eleanor seemed to know the Earl very well and he'd seemed to act quite differentl
y around her and her husband, Lord Hyde. She found herself highly curious about the Earl, who seemed to be a mass of contradictions.
His brothers had both described him with the awe and reverence of young men looking up to an older brother of almost heroic proportions. Not only had he thwarted their father’s orders, he'd made himself rich on his own merit, he was an acknowledged Corinthian, and a rakish seducer of ladies. Towards his mother he'd behaved like the perfect gentleman, as well as being almost protective. Eleanor and Edwin had brought out what seemed like a more playful side. And apparently all Cynthia engendered was stuffy disapproval.
To her annoyance, he apparently considered the morning civilities over with, and he seated himself back beside her and picked up his newspaper again, just as one of the footmen came in with her breakfast of sausages, eggs and fruit. Scowling at the black and white print, Cynthia wondered if she dared interrupt his reading.
Deciding she'd rather go to tea with Eleanor than prick Lord Stuffed-Shirt, she sat in uncharacteristic silence, picking at her food and dreaming about the upcoming Assembly on Thursday. It would be an opportunity to observe the Earl in a new setting, one with flirtatious ladies. Would he act differently there? She wondered if Mr. Carter would be there... she'd certainly enjoy learning a bit more about men and women. Perhaps, if they found a sufficiently private space, she would allow him to touch him between her legs.
Her mind drifted, fantasizing about the possibilities. Maybe not with Mr. Carter... maybe with a taller, stronger, more forceful man. What would it be like if the Earl caught her and spanked her again? And then maybe his fingers would drift down...
******
Practically cowering behind his newspaper, Wesley gritted his teeth as his ward let out a soft sigh that was completely inappropriate to the breakfast table. He hadn't been able to concentrate on the words in front of him since the moment that she'd joined him. A habitually early riser, despite the fact that he was often up into the later hours of the night, he'd been warned that Miss Bryant often took her breakfast in the dining room rather than in her own room. For some reason he hadn't been able to resist the temptation of planting himself in a seat, long after he'd finished his meal.