Page 53 of In Service to the Duke

Her honor is not compromised. Not yet anyway. Grinding the heel of my palm into my eye, I do my best to rid myself of the impending headache I feel creeping into my skull. As much as I want to defile Miss Gillet further, I cannot force her to wed me.

The very thought is tantalizing, but I must shore myself against it. It’s why I left in the first place—to give myself some time and distance away from her. With a growl on my lips, I rise from the table, leaving Norhaven to nurse his port.

Never once did I think I’d end up like him. He’s the shell of a man, some poor sap pining after someone he cannot have. Bugger, but I am better than this. Determined, I walk over to the dais and grab a whip.

Surely there will be a willing body to satisfy the carnal urge to cause pain. But even as one of the nubile ladies approaches, I know in my heart she’s not who I want. Damn that governess for casting such a spell about me.

Gripping the whip in my hand, I storm off, availing myself to a private room. No doubt Madame Douler will be quite puzzled, but with what I’m willing to pay her, she won’t mind me occupying it until I’m finished. The only thing now is to get out my aggression in a way which won’t harm someone else.

With the door closed, I cannot hear the raucous merriment from the other patrons as the lurid shows carry on. It’s just me and the whip. A soft smile tilts up my lips as I slide my hand up and down the handle, allowing the memories to flood my mind.

This was the first whip I ever wielded against another. Madame Douler took me in when I was so conflicted and confused. She made me the man I am today. Whether or not I should be grateful… Well, that remains to be seen.

Part of me wishes I could be kind and gentle like Father. Maybe then Miss Gillet would have me. But then, her body blossomed when I was rough with her. Even if her mind doesn’t want it, her body craves it.

There’re also the times she’s come to me, practically begging for my punishment. Even more than that were the stolen moments where I molested her in the night when she was unable to put up any pretense. Her body sang for me.

She wanted me then. What could have changed so drastically? Frustration pours from my body as I coil the whip in my hand and look for my target. Somewhere in this room, there should be a dummy I can use.

Off in the corner, I spy the straw figure. Who would have thought after all these years, I'd be back here, applying my whip to this proxy? Dragging it out, I take my measured steps and stretch out my arm, picking my target.

As the whip flies, I take in a deep breath. Relief floods my system as the alluring pop of the tail cracks through the air. Gentle or not, this is who I am. And it’s high time I remind myself of that.

Over and over I strike the straw person until bits fly everywhere. My arm aches as exhaustion takes over me, but still, I persist. I want to be wrung out, unable to move by the time I’m done. Unfortunately, with each strike, the proxy begins to shift and morph until it’s now the likeness of Miss Gillet.

I can see her as clearly as if she were in the room with me. I can almost imagine her soft, coquettish sighs as she drapes herself onto the cross, delivering her body up to me. Bloody hell, but I can almost smell the scent of her arousal enveloping me until I can barely breathe.

Minutes crawl by like hours until I’m so thoroughly wrung out, I can barely stand. Dropping the whip to the floor, I make my way over to the nearby bed. Sweat pours off of me, making my clothes stick to my body. I’ll need to cleanse myself. But for now, all I want to do is sleep and not think about the delectable Miss Gillet.

* * *

Fingers brush against my brow, easing me from a fitful sleep. Could it be that Miss Gillet has come to her senses and wishes to show me how much she craves me? As I scent the air, however, I know it’s not her.

Blinking, I gaze up into Madame Douler’s face. It’s neutral, placid almost. As I fully awaken, she gives me a soft smirk.

“You owe me for a new whip.”

My brows furrow as I force myself to become fully coherent. Glancing down at the floor, I note how worn and frayed the whip looks. It’s definitely in such a state of disrepair it would be unwise to use it on anyone else.

A groan rips from my lips as I ease my legs off the side of the bed and plop my head into my hands. “You know I’m good for the coin. Just add it to my growing tally.”

“As you wish, Your Grace. Though, if you’d rather, I could have my man Jeremy fix it up for you so you can take it home. I know it has sentimental value. But let’s be honest. It’s certainly outlived its time here. I’d rather it go with someone who can appreciate it.”

I nod, unable to speak. Though I have my share of whips at home, this one means something to me. She pats my knees and rises, scooping the whip off of the floor before heading toward the door.

Now is as good a time as any to leave. I would hate to impose on her any longer. But the moment I rise, she holds out her hand.

“This room is yours for as long as you need it. Shall I send a girl in here to attend you?”

“I’d rather sleep if it’s all the same to you.” Exhaustion makes my limbs feel like lead as I recline back against the plush bed.

“Very well, Your Grace. Whoever she is, she’s a very lucky woman to have ensnared your heart.” Her knowing smile sends a frisson of irritation up my spine.

“And who is to say my heart has been captured? I could have been holding out for you.”

The snort she gives me is beyond unladylike, but as a fellow Alpha and mistress of this establishment, it suits her.

“You do not submit, and I will not allow you to lead. Such odds do not a good match make. Besides, I’ve never once seen you use a whip until it’s so frayed and worn. Only intense anger or fiery passion can bring about such a reaction. And knowing you, your temper never results in that sort of action. Thus, it has to be unrequited love.”