by Golden Angel
All in all, it was a rather salutary lesson for both of them, she thought.
She was aware of Thomas opening the door to a room although she didn’t open her eyes and look around until he was setting her down.
It was a large room with a huge four-poster bed, decorated in robin’s egg blue, cream, and maple wood furniture. The overall effect was of a light, bright room, quite cheery and comfortable, neither overtly masculine or feminine. Arabella found it quite soothing.
“Can you stand?” Thomas asked, his voice slightly clipped.
“Yes,” she said, letting go of him with a sigh. Standing wasn’t comfortable really, but she didn’t think anything would be for a while. Just bearing her own weight put pressure on her leg muscles which translated to the muscles she used for riding and… well, maybe eventually she’d get used to it.
Stepping away from her, Thomas headed towards a doorway and Arabella followed. The door was to a large, tiled room where a tub was waiting, filled with water. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that she had followed him before turning away and reaching down to touch it.
“Warm, but not hot,” he confirmed.
“Warm but not hot sounds perfect,” Arabella said, beginning to tug at her clothing. As soon as she washed away the day, she was flopping face down on that big bed and nothing was stopping her.
Well, perhaps food first.
Maybe.
******
Closing the door between the rooms, Thomas moved over to help Arabella with the laces to her dress. He winced when the fabric fell to the floor and he could see how bright red her bottom was through the thin fabric of her chemise. It looked mottled where it wasn’t glowing, some of the darkest spots nearly approaching purple.
“Good God, woman,” he muttered. “Did you have to be so stubborn?”
“Did you have to make it so obvious you would gloat if I wasn’t?” she sassed back, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it.
Glad that he was behind her so she couldn’t see his wince, Thomas had to admit that yes, he had been rather smug when he’d first seen her struggling. He’d thought he would win; instead, Arabella had ensured they both lost. Something he hadn’t expected, but he doubted he’d forget exactly how far she was willing to go just to retain her pride. It certainly wouldn’t have cost him anything to pretend indifference to whether or not she rode.
As Arabella stepped into the tub, and hissed as she began to lower herself in, Thomas started to strip off his own clothing, leaving it in a pile atop hers to help keep the dust all in one place. The little moaning sound she made when she finally sat down had him glancing at each other, but, despite the grimace on her face, it was clear she was determined to bathe. Having learned his lesson about trying to intervene for her own good, Thomas didn’t say a word. When he moved to the side of the tub and began to lift his leg to get in, Arabella looked up at him in surprise.
“What are you doing?”
He blinked. Wasn’t it obvious? “I’m getting in the tub.”
“We won’t both fit.”
“Won’t we?” A wicked little grin slipped onto his face as he climbed in and sat.
Arabella scowled at him. “You had better not be thinking about… about that. I am not doing that right now.”
“No, sweetheart,” he said soothingly, drawing her leg over his and pulling her into a more reclined position. “I’m just going to bathe you.”
It was a bit of a tight fight, but with a little maneuvering they managed to adjust their limbs and her skepticism turned to sighs of appreciation and an increasingly sleepy expression. Despite the pain she was obviously in, Arabella giggled as Thomas made a show of soaping her legs. Distracting her at least made him feel a little better, and he had to admit, he did enjoy the novelty of bathing a woman. Especially when he was in the tub with her.
Ignoring the urgings of his cock wasn’t difficult though, Thomas was enjoying the intimacy of just taking care of his wife.
By the time they were finished, Arabella was yawning and wincing with every movement as she stood and dried off.
A supper of broth, fruit, bread, and meat had been set out in their bedroom, but she walked right by it without even seeing it and went straight for the bed where she laid down on her stomach. Her bottom didn’t look any better than it had earlier. Frowning, Thomas went to dig out some liniment. It might smell awful, but it was the best thing for sore muscles and he hoped it would help her current condition.
She was so exhausted, she barely murmured as he gently smoothed the cream onto her bottom. The skin felt hot and he could only imagine how tired she must be to be able to sleep despite the pain.
“Fool woman,” he muttered affectionately.
As she was fast asleep, Arabella did not answer of course.
******
Although Arabella was in no condition to ride the next morning, she insisted on a rather active day. She could tell she was exasperating her husband, but she’d never been one to sit idly—and truthfully she’d rather sit as little as possible. Stretching her muscles did hurt, but in a good way, whereas sitting (even on a cushion) just hurt.
The household lined up to greet them in the morning, allowing Arabella to meet all of them. Mr. and Mrs. Tucker would be running the household—Thomas later told her that Mr. Tucker was one of his parents’ underbutlers on their country estate usually and Mrs. Tucker was the assistant housekeeper. They were both well versed in their duties and seemed to have everything under control despite the late hour Thomas and Arabella had arrived.
They’d been getting the house ready ever since they’d received word that Thomas and Arabella would be staying there. Mrs. Tucker gave them both a tour. Despite Thomas’ obvious passing familiarity with the house, he apparently hadn’t actually been inside of it in quite a few years. As manor houses went it was not overly large but there was more than enough room for the two of them (and quite a few guests besides, if they desired).
The rooms had been kept updated and were furnished she was relieved to see. Thomas made an offhand comment that if they decided they were more comfortable here than at the main house on the estate with his parents, they could always return and she could decorate as she pleased. Arabella didn’t have the slightest interest in decorating and so she was relieved everything about the house was already beautifully done.
Manchester Chase, the house she’d grown up in, was stunning from the outside but before Lydia had married Isaac there had been quite a few rooms which had been… less than stylish. Of course, once they’d been the height of style, but without any updates for over a decade they’d needed quite a bit of work to refurbish. None of the Windham siblings had been at all interested in doing so, so the rooms had been allowed to languish and collect dust until Lydia had taken control of the household. Now they were just as nice as the rest of the house.
She didn’t know if Thomas’ list of the perfect wife included anything about decorating his house—she certainly hadn’t heard him ever say so—but just in case, she decided not to disclose her disinterest. Eventually he might learn… or not, if she were stealthy enough about hiring a decorator to do the work for her. Arabella was perfectly happy to order workers about as long as someone else did the design.
During the afternoon, she and Thomas strolled through the gardens, which were small but lovely and also well-maintained. She explored a shed they found, much to Thomas’ amusement, and was delighted to discover a croquet set. Immediately, she challenged him to a game.
Of course, it wasn’t really proper croquet with just the two of them, but Arabella enjoyed herself nonetheless. She doubted Thomas could say the same. In fact, he was looking increasingly deranged as the afternoon rolled on.
“You’re not playing correctly,” he accused for the umpteenth time, running his fingers through his dark hair again and causing it to stick out from his head in a decidedly unkempt manner. With every wicket they’d managed to pass through, his hair had become more and more ridiculous
looking, something which Arabella neglected to mention to him.
She thought it was hilarious.
“Of course I am,” she argued. “I’m hitting my balls through the wickets, aren’t I?”
Thomas glared at her darkly. She hadn’t realized he was so competitive, although that he was such a stickler for rules came as no surprise. The next rainy day she would have to suggest a chess match. Normally she found the game rather boring, but she imagined with Thomas it would be quite enjoyable. If her brothers found her tactics in chess frustrating, she could only imagine what he would make of them.
“You are, but that’s not your main goal,” he said, gritting the words out through his teeth and looking as though he was contemplating strangling her. She probably shouldn’t find so much enjoyment in that, but she did. “Your main goal appears to be keeping me from completing the course and only once you’ve knocked my ball completely out of the way do you actually attempt a wicket.”
“Well, yes, that’s how the game is played,” Arabella said, giving him her best look of wide-eyed innocence. The one which was so obviously false it was clear to even the most unobservant how insincere she was. “The person who makes it through the course with the fewest strokes is the winner. Therefore I have to ensure your ball is as far away from the wicket as possible.”
“Only if it’s in the way of yours going through,” he snapped back. “I purposefully sent mine nowhere near the wicket and yet you still aimed for my ball!”
Arabella blinked her long lashes, tilting her head as she wrinkled her brow in her best imitation of the most buffleheaded debutantes she’d met this past Season. “Did I?”
With a growl, Thomas threw down his croquet mallet and started for her.
“Thomas… what…” Arabella started to back up as he stalked forward, the expression on his gaze far too intent and interested. Although she wasn’t nearly as sore as she had been yesterday, she absolutely could not take another spanking, but look on his face said he felt otherwise. “Thomas… wait…”
It was too late.
Shrieking, she turned to flee… and his arm caught her about her waist.
Oh dear.
She may have miscalculated exactly how far she could push her husband.
Chapter 16
“I’m sorry!” Arabella squealed. “I’m sorry, don’t spank me!”
Oh she was going to be sorry all right, and he didn’t need to spank her to make her so.
Thomas had done his best to be patient. He’d done his best to play an honorable game with her, no matter how she’d giggled and smirked as she’d deliberately hit his ball out of the way even if he wasn’t in her path to the wicket. But enough was enough. Especially because she seemed to think that he wouldn’t spank her—which was true—so he would have no real recourse, in which she’d definitely underestimated him.
“A spanking?” he asked her in a soft, dangerous voice, pretending the same empty headed innocence she had as he pulled her against him, her soft and sore bottom pressing against his front. His cock was already starting to harden as he anticipated his next move. “Why would you think you deserve a spanking, Arabella?”
While he’d never indulged outside before… well, he’d never been married before either. They were far enough away from the fields that he doubted anyone would be able to see them. The garden would obscure the view of their location from anyone in the manor. It was safe enough.
“Um…”
Pulling her flush against him, Thomas was tall enough to lean over her slightly and see her chewing her lower lip as she searched for a way to explain without incriminating herself. Her bottom squirmed against his groin as he securely held her about the waist and ran his free hand up the side of her body.
“I… um…”
Thomas kissed the soft skin on the side of her neck and Arabella’s head tilted away, giving him more access. He could see her eyelashes flutter—a true reaction this time and not a calculated ploy.
His hand closed over her breast.
“Thomas…” Her voice lilted—not a protest, she was just uncertain of his direction considering their starting position.
“Mmmm.” He nuzzled the side of her neck, squeezing the plump flesh in his hand.
Then she squealed as he began to kneel down, pulling her with him. “Thomas!”
A moment later he had her on her back, eyes wide as she stared up at him, cheeks flushed becomingly. The confusion on her face was evident, as was her interest. Her tongue nervously flicked out to lick her lips.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he loomed over her, settling his lower body between her legs as they parted for him beneath her skirts.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he asked, giving her a wicked grin before lowering his mouth to kiss the top of her breast where it was mounded.
“Acting more like Walter than yourself,” she retorted, her eyes wide, but she didn’t sound unhappy.
Thomas couldn’t help but laugh. He was well aware that Arabella thought him stuffy, even priggish, whereas his brother’s reputation was that of a gazetted flirt and rake. Although she seemed accepting of Thomas’ less severe private face, the way he was when just with family, she often seemed surprised whenever he was at all rakish. Or maybe she just enjoyed teasing him—with her it was often hard to tell.
He could give back as good as he got though.
“Please tell me you aren’t thinking about my brother right now,” he said, dotting a row of kisses along the neckline of her dress, teasing her.
Arabella squirmed beneath him a little, but her lower body was well and truly pinned by his now, as his weight on her skirts made it impossible for her to move very much. “Of course not!”
“Good.”
He pulled down the rounded neckline of her dress, exposing her breasts and she gasped.
“Thomas!”
******
What had happened to her staid and proper husband? Before this moment, Arabella would have been willing to swear that he would always keep their bedroom activities confined to the bedroom. Instead, it seemed he was intent on trying to shock her.
She rather liked it.
When she’d fallen in love with him it was because she was attracted to his honor, his self-control, his confidence, and the side of him she saw when others weren’t about. But she hadn’t truly expected to be excited by him. Hadn’t thought he might push some of her own sensibilities. Certainly not like this.
Pinned beneath him, her breasts exposed to the air, her bottom throbbing beneath her in a way that wasn’t quite painful but wasn’t pleasurable either, Arabella felt rather breathless. She couldn’t anticipate what he might do next, especially as she’d been expecting a spanking rather than… whatever it was he was actually doing.
A little gasp escaped her lips as he began to plump her bared breasts with his hands, his mouth descending on her nipple.
“Oh!” She slid her hands into his hair, her hips moving upwards to press against his hardness as sensation surged through her. The wet heat of his mouth suckling at her breast was somehow intensely erotic as he completed the act in the broad light of day, where anyone might come across them.
The chances were slight… but it was possible someone might spy him atop her, her breasts out in the open air as he made love to her. The thought was both terrifying and exciting. While she enjoyed creating a stir, this was downright scandalous on a level she’d never before attained.
That it was Thomas creating the situation was a pleasant shock which aroused her even more. She’d never realized she could receive so much enjoyment from someone else being naughty.
When his mouth moved to her other breast, she could feel the slight breeze on her wet nipple, increasing her pleasure. She wriggled underneath of him, helping him to settle in the exact right place with just the right amount of pressure on her pussy. It also put pressure on her bottom, but the renewed burn added to the pleasure she was feeling.
The sucking pull
of his mouth on her nipples had her gasping and moaning as her need rose, his kneading fingers adding to the growing urgency she was feeling. The movements of her hips becoming stronger as her pleasure did too. She gripped his hair tighter, trying to pull him up towards her to kiss, wanting to feel his cock pressing against her and not just his body.
Wanting him inside of her.
A few moments later, Thomas was flipping up her skirts and Arabella sighed with happiness… and then squealed as he lowered his mouth between her thighs instead of himself.
“Oh yes…” Her hands crept up to play with her breasts, making her feel utterly wicked as she squeezed the soft mounds while Thomas licked and sucked between her legs. Looking up at the blue sky above her only added to the sinful feelings, making her feel more exposed. She moaned, moving her hips against his mouth, the added bite of pain from her still sore bottom enhancing her growing pleasure.
When he moved his mouth away she almost yelled in frustration. Plucking her hands away from her breasts, he pinned them above her head, both of her wrists gathered beneath one of his hands while his other pressed between her legs, fingers teasing her pussy. He was still fully clothed as he studied the expression on her face, which was frustrating because she didn't want his fingers, she wanted his cock.
Arabella squirmed, looking up at him pleadingly as her hips lifted, trying to rub his fingers more firmly against her clit. If he wasn't going to mount her yet, the least he could do is provide proper stimulation.
"Thomas, stop teasing," she half-begged, half-ordered.
A little smile turned up the edges of his lips. "Tell me you're sorry for cheating at croquet."
"What?" It took a moment for his words to really sink in and her to realize what he was asking for. Indignant outrage rose up with her sexual frustration and she tried to yank her hands away from his hold, but he had her in too firm of a grip. "Thomas! This isn't fair!"
He chuckled, infuriating her even more... and then the emotion was lost as he pushed two fingers inside her needy pussy, making her moan at the pleasurable sensation of being filled. Although her orgasm still hovered out of reach, having him inside of her, his fingers expertly probing, felt delicious.