Page 36 of To Ensnare a Duke

"Oh?" I step around the cross, so I'm face to face with her. "Whatever is the matter?"

"I… You… My… My…"

"Your…" I attempt to help out, even though I know exactly what is vexing her. Heat flushes her face as she frowns, the words refusing to come. "I cannot assist you if you do not speak."

"My backside, Your Grace. It burns."

"Does it now?" I walk back over where her arse waves back and forth. "Shall I see what's the matter?"

Taunting her like this does neither of us any good. It's far too close to the relationship I wish to have. Bending down, I make a great show of inspecting her, only to go back to where she can see me.

"There is nothing the matter with your backside. Not yet anyway. You're merely feeling the effects of the ginger as its spicy juices flood your sensitive nerves. The more you struggle and fight, the more the burn will happen."

I keep my eye on her as I walk over to the wall and gather my tools. Last time, the tawse didn't make an impression. Shocking, but not unheard of in stubborn wenches. Maybe she needs something with a bit more bite. I take the leather strap and a cane and walk back over to her.

Augusta cranes her neck to see what I have, her gaze far more curious than nervous. I walk to where she can see me through the arms and grin at her.

"Open your mouth."

Without any fuss, she does what she's told. The moment her lips part, I slide the wood in. As if on instinct, she closes around it, my balls clenching at the sight. She could be so submissive, so perfect if she wanted to be.

"No matter what happens. Do not drop that cane. Nod if you understand me."

She does, her eyes nearly black. Good Lord, but I do believe she's enjoying this. Just like with my tawse, her body undulates as she moans ever so softly under her breath. How am I going to get it through to her if everything I do makes her crave more?

Shaking my head, I hold the strap of leather away from her body and let it swing. Perhaps after tonight, she'll think differently. The loud thwack reverberates through the room, vibrating along my skin. With her startled shriek, the cane drops from her mouth and clatters to the floor.

"Tsk. Tsk. Now I'll just have to start all over."

CHAPTER 18

AUGUSTA

It hurts. It bloody hurts. Nothing could have prepared me for the agony blossoming through my bottom. Nothing. The tawse felt like the prick of a thorn compared to this. How could I have been so mistaken?

Tears burn in my eyes as I stare down at the cane on the floor. As much as it hurts, though, I can't deny how my body sings as the heat rushes through after. It's as if I'm warm from the inside out. Granted, with the bit of ginger lodged up my bum, it's not surprising.

What shocks me, however, is how much I actually seem to enjoy the delicious feeling of that burn deep inside. Having something invade me so intimately is certainly an aspect I can live without. But the sensations are not something I've ever felt before.

If only I paid more attention to what he was doing when he fashioned it. Then I could possibly make one for myself when I'm feeling the need to do something I oughtn't. How much better would it feel coming from him, though?

The duke in question strides around the cross, his forearms flexing in the candlelight as he reaches down to grab the cane. "Such a naughty girl," he purrs, wiping it off before offering it to me again. "Each time you drop it, the count starts over."

"And what is the count?" I'm not sure why I have such a perverse need to know.

Will I drop it on purpose so that he may start again? Heaven forbid. Even now, the skin of my bottom blazes, and just from one strike.

"Such knowledge will do you no good. Now open again. That's my good girl."

Something odd twists about inside of me as he grants me praise I don't deserve. How I would truly like to be his good girl, but I can't seem to keep myself from mischief. Perhaps if he was there to keep me in line?

Again, my brain whirrs about as thoughts and plots threaten to overwhelm me. They all soon scatter with another smack of his infernal implement. This time, I expect the pain and lean into it, biting down on the cane so as to not lose it.

"You're learning," he murmurs, running his hand over the bruised skin. "Shall I reward you with a slight reprieve?"

His touch is soft, nearly reverent as he skims it over me. A lurid groan bubbles up my throat, but soon disperses as he takes the leather to my backside again.

THWACK