Page 24 of To Ensnare a Duke

"Don't. Move."

With a swift jerk of my hands, I tuck the skirts up, but then change my mind. It could be she is unsure of what she likes, seeing as she's so innocent. One good way to test the theory is to give her just a taste and see how she reacts.

"Release the desk with one of your hands. Your choosing." Her arm trembles as she brings her hand back by her side. "Good girl. Now, you are going to hold your skirts out of the way so I can discipline your bottom without any interference. If you drop them at any point, we will start again. Am I clear?"

"Y- yes, Your Grace."

Part of me wants to correct her, to hear my Christian name on her tongue. But hearing my title drip from her lips as her body quivers beneath my gaze is such an aphrodisiac. The only way it could get better is if she said Master.

I don't dare toy with fate enough to make that request. Pulling back, I watch as her fingers tighten around the fabric, turning white with how tightly she holds it. My cock presses against my buckskin trousers until my vision blurs from the need coursing through me. Blazes. When was the last time I felt such painful arousal?

Again, she shifts about, drawing my attention to her bare arse. So lovely and round, plump, perfect for marking. Sliding a foot in between her legs, I urge her to spread, revealing her body to me. Now, she has the decency to feel shame. What little I catch of her face before she buries it against the desk is bright red and, no doubt, just as hot.

Her pussy spreads out before me as she stretches wide, showing me the proof of her arousal. Slick gathers at her entrance and drips down, making quite a mess on the floor. How I wish to slide my fingers in her, to draw more of that precious liquid to the surface.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, her voice muffled by the desk.

"A bit late for that, isn't it?"

"I don't mean the fire."

"For what then?" Confusion gives me pause as I drag my gaze away from the enticing scene and onto the tear-stained face in front of me.

"I don't know what is wrong with me to make my body do this. I- I can understand if you wish to send me to Bedlam. I only ask that you spare my brother the humiliation of knowing where I am."

"Stand up and drop your skirts."

She complies, her face lined with misery as she refuses to meet my gaze. "Please. Please don't tell him."

"There is nothing to tell, sweet girl. But know this. There is nothing wrong with you. That is, nothing marriage won't fix. Bedlam is no place for someone with your affliction."

"Then what can I do? How do I stop it?"

I cannot tell her. I cannot explain the intricacies of marriage without wanting to show her in person. At least now I know for certain she's still innocent and a perfect match for anyone wishing to be her husband. My insides clench as I run the pad of my thumb down her cheek.

"Your husband will instruct you. I cannot. To do so would be a step too far."

"I see."

She says nothing more, but then, she doesn't have to. Her body says it all. Turning, she lowers her head and gets back into position, revealing her pussy to me once more as she stretches out over the desk and lifts her skirts.

Her lower lips are puffy, glistening with need. At the apex, her clit pokes out, swollen, desperate, and enchanting. Her desire is certainly as great as mine. How I wish I could have her. At first, I thought her desires would align perfectly with mine, but knowing just how clueless she is, just how innocent… It's like a splash of cold water to help stifle my ardor.

Plucking the tawse out of my trousers, I skim my fingers over the mound of her arse. Augusta jerks forward at my touch, startled and skittish, like a baby foal.

"Easy, little sister," I tease, hoping to remind her I mean her no true harm. "I'm simply preparing your skin for my punishment. It will be over soon, and we can both put this behind us."

I cannot delay any more. To do so would be to completely erode my resolve. Gritting my teeth, I keep my touch light and far away from the glistening petals of her enticing quim. One touch, and I know I'll be completely lost.

With a gentle smack of my palm against her skin, I warm up her bottom, alternating my swats from one cheek to the other. At the onset, I wished to give her a harsh punishment, something she'll never soon forget. Now, I find my motivations have changed. My tawse will hurt plenty enough, but there's no reason why I can't temper the pain by preparing her first.

She squirms under my touch, her soft moans running over my skin like rain sluicing against me. I continue until her skin is nice and pink, only stopping to slide the cravat back over to her.

"Trust me, you'll want this."

With a shaky grasp, she takes the cloth and shoves it between her lips, the visual driving me to distraction. With her mouth stuffed wide and her eyes nearly black with need, she's the picture of perfection.

Grabbing my tawse, I don't allow her time to think too much. I lay the first blow against her skin. She bucks against me, her cries muffled by the fabric. I do the same to the other, my cock pulsing as I watch the red bloom on her skin. Blazes, but she's such a temptation wrapped up in a confining cloud of naïveté.