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“No... no, not like that.” Her back arched higher.
Gervais thrust two fingers inside her and she cried out, remembering how deep and wide she might stretch. Three fingers plied her open, thrusting repeatedly, allowing themselves to explore her inner sanctum. She bucked, and he planted his body between her thighs to prevent her from twisting. There was not one hand teasing her, but two generous sets of fingers. Gervais tickled her mound with the tips, gentle caresses compared to the ardent rigour of his other hand.
Then it happened, something she’d never forget. She screamed, the calamity she had uncorked below undid her, and she shook so violently, she thought she might kick his chest. But he stayed steadfast and by keeping her still, the energy unleashed remained focused on her tender sex. The ripples travelled along her thighs, and up to her breasts, which flushed red and shimmered with the warmth. Onward the sensation journeyed, into her constricted throat, stifling her cries, and forcing her to breathe rapidly, then her fingers formed clenched fists and she pummelled the mattress, calling out.
“I’m sorry. I am wicked. I deserve punishment. Do it, please, punish me.” She slumped back on the bed, and he lowered her legs, easing her back up onto the bed. At a signal, Sara left the room. A chaperon was no longer required. She was his betrothed in name, and now to b
e his in body too. Spoilt by her transgressions, which were born out of a haste to prove she was a fully-fledged woman, he had no need to keep her chaste. She expected a thorough bedding by him that night and certainly not an inquisition, but it seemed Gervais was not satisfied with her request for penance, nor was he openly seeking to finalise their arrangement. Instead, he perched on the edge of the bed and draped the folds of her shift back over her legs and belly.
“Did he use his cock?” he asked.
She lay rigid in her mortification. “No. Never. He kept it locked away. He wore a guard beneath his robe. He tortured himself with it, knowing it imprisoned it painfully.”
“Strange man, but not so perhaps for a priest. Did he say anything to you?”
“He accused me of harbouring the devil’s thoughts, and that he believed evil had entered me there.” She lowered her arm and pointed between her legs.
“So he decided to see for himself.” Gervais shook his head. “He tricked you.”
“I was eighteen. I knew what he wanted. I let him.” She spoke with a natural anguish and without pretence. Regret came easily when faced with a handsome lord and not the flirtations of an immature priest.
“And he used his hand?”
“A taper. He breached me with it.”
Gervais winced. “Did it hurt?”
“No. I was feverish, like now, and I bent over a table. He fumbled with my clothing, seeking it out, and pushed hard, and I yielded. I felt only a tenderness afterwards.” She recollected the first time with unsolicited shame, something that was absent at the time. Throughout the priest debauchery, she had groaned, willing him to thrust deeper and expel the supposed devil within her.
“Tell me it was the once?” Gervais asked.
She covered her face with her hands. “No, my lord. I told him he had failed, the evil was still there, so he summoned me again, and again, and used not just a candle, but other things. I dared not look in case they frightened me. I only felt them enter and he intoned these Latin words, as if to exorcise a curse from me.”
“Then, one day, with your skirts up, the Abbess came upon you.”
“Yes. But she only saw the back of my legs. She never knew that he uncovered my bottom.”
“He was the one with wicked thoughts, not you, Matilda. Yes, you need to be punished for encouraging him to continue, but the first time was not your fault. He should not have laid a finger on you. He will be condemned, not you.”
She raised herself onto her elbows. “You will punish me, sir? Please, I trust you. The Abbess would have—”
“With her birch? I can see that not ending well for you. Nuns can be surprisingly cruel with their punishments.” He took Matilda’s hand. “I shall administer a good, sound spanking, and you will tell me when you feel sufficiently purged of your sin. It is your choice.”
“You don’t want to do it?”
Gervais lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I wish to see you happy and not haunted by this mistake. Personally, it is of no great disadvantage that you have some experience of carnal lust; it will serve me in my endeavours. However, now that you are my betrothed, you will not seek out pleasure without my permission, neither will you think upon this priest and what he did to you. You’re mine now, Matilda, and I shall teach you, not some tormented priest who shuns fucks for fear of damnation.”
She caught her breath at the vulgar word. “I had not thought of it like that. I assumed it was me who was damned.”
He rested his hand on her belly and the warmth of his palm spread throughout her body. “No,” he said quietly. “Not you. You will start afresh with me. I will decide from now on what is appropriate behaviour. Tonight, after you have seen my castle, dined at my table, I shall take you to the farthest tower, to a quiet chamber, there I shall spank you until your arse burns red hot and there is a fire inside you that yearns for me.”
And then? She stared at his bright eyes.
“Then, I shall fuck you. You see, now that you are no longer a virgin, there is nothing that I can’t do to you. It will be an adventure, Tilda, these three months, and by the end of it, you’ll never think of another man but me, and I shall never desire another woman but you.”
Chapter Eight
The grounds of the castle offered Matilda a respite from troubling thoughts. What if she could not tolerate his spanking beyond a few slaps? To have him believe her penitent, she would have to allow him great latitude, not quibble at the duration or strength of his hand, nor move about too much. What little experience she had of punishments were a few swipes of a switch at the hands of the nun in charge of the postulants and novices, and of course, her redoubtable nurse, who’d cared for her in the latter part of her maiden years. Somebody best forgotten.
