Punishing His Ward
Page 20
“Well don’t push him,” Eleanor said sagely. “You’re just as likely to get a spanking without any of the… ah… intimacies as you are to get both.”
“That was my thought as well,” Cynthia said, sighing as she slumped down in the chair across from Eleanor, tapping her foot on the floor. “He’s not going to be like this after we’re married, do you think?”
“I highly doubt it,” Eleanor said. “Wesley’s just a bit… um conservative in some ways. He lost control with you once, I doubt he’s going to risk it again until after you’re wed. Even if you did misbehave, he might very well leave the Countess to deal with you instead of doing it himself.”
“Blast.” Cynthia shook her head stubbornly. The Earl might be getting his way in many things, but she wasn’t going to just dance to his tune all the time. “I’m not going to stand for it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll think of something.”
******
Creeping down the hallway, which was almost pitch black dark, Cynthia carefully counted the doors she was passing. Of course she knew which one the Earl slept in, but it was much easier to determine which was his in the light of day. In the darkness, with only the barest light to guide her, it was more sensible to count the doors. Much better than making a mistake.
Cynthia wanted to know more about what life would be like with him, not just her daytime life but her nights and beyond. She wanted to explore those wonderful sensations he'd elicited with his fingers, wanted to know do things with him that she hadn't done with Mr. Carter or any of the others. Surely the fact that they would be married next week meant that some of the standard rules could be bent. Besides which, she truly didn’t like the idea of him thinking that she would willingly bow to whatever decree he wanted to make.
And even if the Earl didn't agree, well surely a willing, naked woman in his bed would go a long way towards changing his mind. What man could resist? What sane man would want to?
As she’d told Eleanor that afternoon, she was willing to risk a spanking. Besides, after spending an afternoon with Eleanor, away from all the planning and fuss, she’d felt very much rejuvenated. Ready to make mischief and for whatever came after. Since they hadn’t had an event to attend that evening, she was feeling all the more rested.
Holding her breath, she grasped the handle of his door and turned the knob slowly, to make as little noise as possible. Easing the door open just enough to allow her to slip in sideways, she paused as soon as she got inside the door, waiting for some kind of reaction. Waiting for the axe to fall.
Nothing.
Grinning in triumph, she very carefully closed the door. Moonlight trickled into the room and she gave her eyes a moment to adjust and take in what she could see. After all, she'd never seen the Earl's room before. Never seen a man's bedchamber at all for that matter.
The moonlight made everything look dark, but she could see that he used much heavier furniture than she did. Big, intimidating furniture and a large heavy rug that look up most of the floor space. Despite the large size of the room, the bed in the center dominated it. A large four poster bed, the bed curtains were tied to the posts and she could clearly see the lump in the center of the bed that must be the Earl. Since everything was dark she couldn’t see the colors, but she assumed they would be just as masculine as the furniture. The scent unique to him filled the air, as if his presence saturated every ounce of space he lived in.
There was only one small table between her and the bed, so she skirted to the side of it, tip-toeing as quickly as she could. Her breath was coming fast and it seemed so very loud in her ears, but the shape on the bed didn't stir. The silk wrapper she was wearing slithered around her legs, brushing against her breasts as they heaved in excitement. She was sure that at any moment he would suddenly leap up from the bed, shouting at her, but he didn’t. When she finally reached the side of the bed, she paused to fully appreciate the view.
The Earl was laying on his back, gloriously nude. One arm thrown over his eyes, the other sprawled across the width of the bed. His blankets only partially covered him, one leg and hip and - of course - the area that she was most interested in. But she could still see his muscled chest, the dark hair that was sprinkled across it and in a line down his stomach; his thighs were just as impressively muscled as his chest and she had to stop herself from reaching out and trying to touch him immediately. He was the most intensely masculine man she'd ever met, and even more so out of his clothes. The last time she'd seen a shirtless man it had been entirely on accident and not nearly this interesting.
She wondered if he always slept nude and what that might feel like. Perhaps she should try it sometime. He certainly looked comfortable.
Tugging on her sash, she pulled open the knot and let her wrapper drop to the ground. As tempting as it was to just sit and look at him, and not risk more, that wasn't what she'd come here for. Cynthia was determined to be quite thoroughly ruined before her wedding, no matter what the Earl had said. Or at least a bit more rumpled that her present state.
Patience was not a virtue, it was a sign of passivity. Cynthia preferred action.
Crawling onto the bed, on the side where his arm was flung outward, she pushed the sheets off of his body. The moonlight was just enough to allow her to see his rod, not quite as big as she'd imagined it; it was long and thick and laying against his body rather like a big, fat worm. Was this was seemed so fearsome when it was in men's breeches?
Reaching out with gentle fingers, she touched it - it was soft! And kind of squishy... she ran her fingers down the length and almost shrieked when it moved. It straightened, sort of, turning to point up towards the Earl's belly and it began to get longer and thicker under her fingertips. She watched, fascinated as it began to grow quite large indeed. Now it looked – well still not quite what she’d imagined, but at least it was more the size she’d imagined.
And this was supposed to fit inside her mouth? And her quim? She looked at it doubtfully; it was much larger than her fingers. Perhaps that would feel good, all the rakes had told her it would, but the proposition seemed a bit more intimidating now than it had before.
Putting more pressure on the turgid length, she felt it pulse and harden. The exterior was still soft, his skin there quite silky, but with a core of steel. At the base there was a wrinkled sack which hung between his legs, but that wasn't nearly as interesting as looking at and touching her first naked cock. Scooting a little closer, Cynthia's tongue flicked out and ran along the crown, which bulged at the end of his rigid staff.
The Earl moaned and she froze, but he didn't move. Wrapping her fingers around the thick staff of flesh, she drew it slightly upward so that it was pointing more towards the ceiling. She wanted to put her mouth on it. If she could fit it in her mouth then perhaps it wouldn’t be so intimidating to put it other places.
It tasted of musk and salt and flesh as she wrapped her lips around the fat mushroom tip, laving it with her tongue. The texture of his skin there was almost pebbled. This time when he moaned, she ignored it, too caught up in her own activities. Something sweet and a little salty dribbled onto her tongue and she immediately went questing for more, exploring the wet little slit with her own tip. It was slick inside, the same way she became slick, and it tasted interesting.
A sudden growling noise filled her ears as a rough hand grasped her hair and yanked her away. Shivering, she gasped and let go of his rod to reach for the hand that was pulling on her hair.
She found herself face to face with an irate and rather confused looking Earl. "Cynthia?"
"Good evening," she said, smiling and batting her eyes. With all the instincts of a true flirt, she twisted her body slightly so that if the Earl hadn't noticed she was naked already, his eyes were drawn to her bare breasts now. For a moment he was successfully distracted and she had the thrill of watching his eyes rove over her, his expression arrested. Her nipples hardened, her already slick quim gr
ew even wetter with excitement, sure that he was about to touch her. Ruin her.
And then he scowled again.
"What are you doing in here?" he roared. The erect staff of his penis didn’t detract at all from his intimidating stance of outraged male.
"Shhh," she scolded, her heart pounding, but she refused to show how much he'd startled her. He was quite frightening sometimes, but it's not as if she could scurry away anyway; his fingers were all tangled up in her hair. And though she had a hold on his wrists, she didn’t fool herself into thinking that he would release her before he was ready. Still, it was quite exciting being held like this by him. "You'll wake the household."
The Earl's dark eyes narrowed, looking even more foreboding in the shadows created by the moonlight.
"You are going back to your bed. Right now." Releasing her hair, he pushed her in front of him, sliding them both off the bed and immediately saw her wrapper on the ground. Unabashed by his own nakedness, he picked it up and thrust it at her.
Cynthia had let him push her out of the bed, more because she hadn't been expecting it and he was much stronger than her, but she wasn't about to allow him to summarily dismiss her. She folded her arms under her bosom and smirked when his eyes immediately fell on the slightly lifted mounds of flesh. No matter what he said, his cock was still thick and hard, the way they got when men were aroused. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, he wanted her.
"No."
"Cynthia, you will leave my chambers now or you will be punished."
She bet that devastating, threatening tone of voice worked quite well on most people. In fact, she had to stiffen her knees against doing exactly what he ordered. Tilting her chin up, she glared right back at him.
"I don't want to be punished, I want to be ruined. What's the point of being engaged if you're not going to touch me? I've been fending off men from touching me anywhere beneath my clothes for years now and now I'm standing, naked, in front of you and all you'll do is look at me! Is this what our marriage is going to be like?"
"It better not be," he muttered, looking at her balefully and Cynthia huffed. She knew he meant her actions and not his lack of them, and she was getting angrier by the minute.
"Are you going to ruin me or not?” Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for his reaction to her next threat. Whatever she had to do to stay in the room. “If not, I'm sure someone else would be happy to!"
"That's it."
******
Grabbing the little minx by her bicep, Wesley hauled her up against him and kissed her. Possessive fury rode him, directing his actions, even though he was well aware that she was making an empty threat. She gasped and then melted into him, all soft curves and woman pressing against him. Not that she was going to get her own way, but he needed her off guard for a moment.
He ended up taking much longer than a moment as he savored the kiss and the sweet taste of an eager young woman. While he believed her when she said that she was untouched, he'd never met such a wanton virgin in his entire life. Not that he spent much time with the breed, but he was still convinced that she was entirely an Original, in this as in other ways.
Pulling the silken sash from her wrapper, he looped it around her wrists before pulling away from the kiss, dropping the rest of the garment on the floor. She beamed up at him, looking rather dreamy, sure that she had gotten her own way. He doubted she even noticed that he’d tied her wrists.
Wesley would enjoy being married to Cynthia, he was quite sure of it. He liked her brazenness, her passion, her wanton ways - as long as they were confined to him, as well as her spirit, humor and intelligence, but he would be damned if he allowed his wife to prod him around or manipulate him the way she was trying to.
Tossing the long end of the sash over the top of his bed, so that it wrapped around the bedpost, he used it to haul Cynthia's arms over her head.
"Oh!" she said in surprise, looking up as her wrists were lifted. Wesley's cock, which was already hard and ready to sink into her, throbbed as fear flickered across her face along with some excitement. He wrapped the other end of the sash around her wrists and tied them tightly, leaving her bound to the bedpost and up on her toes - which made movement rather difficult for her. Her back was arched, thrusting her breasts and bottom out, temptation incarnate. "My Lord, how long do you expect me to stand here like this?"
Only the slightest quiver in her voice gave away her uncertainty and anxiety. Damn but she was bold. Which he normally appreciated, but he would appreciate much more after they were properly wed.
"Wesley," he said, pulling the special box he'd brought back from India out from under his bed. He'd given Hugh and Edwin each one for their wedding gifts and he'd kept one for himself. Of course, he hadn't truly anticipated ever using it for a wife, more likely for a mistress... he had no idea if Hugh and Edwin had used theirs but he liked to think that they might have found an opportunity to at least utilize a few of the items. He was very much looking forward to how Cynthia would react to them tonight.
"What?"
He looked up at her, amused. "We're going to be married in a week, you might as well start calling me by my given name." Fortunately the length of cloth he was looking for was right on top. "Although perhaps not right now."
Before she could respond, he was standing in front of her and tying the gag around her head. He couldn't quite tell, since her face was fairly shadowed because of their angle, but he was quite sure she was glaring at him. As usual, her aggravation only made him feel even more cheerful. Especially now that she was bound and gagged and entirely at his mercy.
If she wanted to wake him with her mouth on his cock then he certainly had no objection to that, but not until they were married. Wesley had been doing his best to play by the rules, although if she'd chosen a different way of getting his attention then he might have succumbed to her persuasions and divested her of her virginity. But he wasn't going to let the little witch think that she could just wake him in the middle of the night, catch him off-guard and get her way. Letting her push him around using sexual wiles would be far too dangerous a precedent to set.
Which, unfortunately, meant that he wasn't going to sink into her hot, wet quim tonight either. But he could certainly satisfy himself, and her as well, without giving her what she had come for. Still, he intended to exact a certain price out of her hide for her attempt. And hopefully he wouldn’t find her sneaking into his bed before the wedding night again if he made the lesson sharp enough.
From the way she was wiggling and the muffled noises she was making behind her gag, she obviously had more to say to him. She could wait. After attempting to force his hand, it would be good for her.
Grinning, Wesley picked up the little metal clips with dangling red jewels. He was quite sure Cynthia would have never experienced anything quite like them. At the time he’d chosen the red jewels because he liked the color, but he was looking forward to seeing them adorn her lovely nipples. The red would suit her; brazen and passionate, just like her.
"Hold still," he said, pressing her back against the post with his body, pinning her there with his hips. Cupping the heavy mound of one breast in his hand, he lifted it and lowered his head. His fiancé made a little moaning sound as his lips wrapped around her nipple, which was tightly ruched and ready for loving. Wesley sucked the little bud into his mouth and nipped at it, hardening it even further as Cynthia began panting.
He looked up to see her head leaning back, resting against the pole, as she arched her breasts out at him, her body begging for more.
Perfection.
******
The Earl - Wesley's (could she really become accustomed to calling him by his given name? She hoped so, he seemed to want her to) - mouth on her breast was heaven. Hot, warm, wet, and his clever teeth and tongue were playing with and pulling on her nipple, creating the most delicious sensations that went straight through to her pulsing core. It made her feel so empty and needy, so very tingly and wet.
When his mouth switched to her other nipple, the one left behind was wet and throbbing, feeling the cool air even more acutely. The pole was wedged between her buttocks and she ground her front against the hard ridge of his cock, rubbing herself as much as she could when she could barely balance on her toes. It was absolute torture... exquisite torment. And more than anything it proved that the Earl was the kind of man she desired.
So many men had tried to seduce her in order to pleasure themselves, although she thought they would have done their best to ensure she enjoyed it. The Earl, when presented with fait accompli, hadn't just fallen on her like a ravening beast; he was taking his time and pleasuring her as well. All of this remarkable man’s focus was entirely fixed on her. Although with him she might not have minded the ravening beast.
Her nipples were aching, throbbing, and making the rest of her body pulse with need. The area between her legs felt like it had a burning, tingling itch that begged to be scratched by his fingers or whatever he felt like scratching it with. Even if she hadn't been stretched out and up on her toes, she would have been unbearably uncomfortable from the strength of the erotic desires coursing through her.
And she couldn't even beg him to touch her because of the gag in her mouth. The inability to communicate her need to him, being forced to wait for him to touch her, made her even wetter.
The Earl leaned back, looking down at her breasts as if to admire his handiwork. Cynthia looked down too, fascinated by the way her nipples had turned a darker pink under his ministrations and how prominently they stood out upon her chest. Grasping the first breast he'd suckled on in his hand, the Earl lifted it again, and this time she noticed that he had something in his other hand. It looked like jewelry, silver with a red jewel hanging from it.