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She looked down at the desk in front of her, her fingers tracing the edge of it in a nervous movement.
"This is where we are staying, is it not?" she asked, trying to think through the fog that had suddenly clouded her mind. Part of her wanted to ask him all the questions that had arisen when she'd read through her father's letters, and when Cynthia had found the portrait, but another part of her didn't want to say anything until she'd had more time to think it through. That part of her was also curious what he would do now. She'd been caught invading his privacy, snooping through his things, and she was being deliberately obtuse. Not to mention, she wasn't supposed to be in this house right now. Would his temper overcome him? Would this be too much trouble, even if it wasn't going to cause a scandal since no one knew about it?
"Yet it is not where you are supposed to be and there is no reason for you to be in this room."
Still not looking at him, Grace shrugged, her
hand wiping damply over her skirt. She felt as though she was teetering on a knife's edge, waiting for his next move. Wondering what the unpredictable man would do, and what it would mean when set alongside his other actions.
Standing behind his desk, Grace looked almost like a naughty little debutante. She avoided his eyes, traced patterns on the wood top of his desk, fiddled with her skirts, and did everything she could not to actually challenge him. Which was unusual for her. Someone was definitely feeling guilty.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked, his voice rough with his anger and frustration. He didn't know what Grace was looking for. Letters from a mistress perhaps? She would be sorely disappointed on that score. Although he'd received a few letters from women since he'd give his last mistress her congé, he'd tossed them all in the fire without even opening them.
The way Grace jumped at his question, looking even guiltier, he knew that she hadn't found whatever she'd been looking for. Probably some kind of evidence to further condemn him in her mind. Knowing that she hadn't found it allowed him to relax slightly, some of his tension leaking away. They'd made a lot of progress since coming to Bath and he was loathe to find that he'd lost ground.
"I wasn't looking for anything," she said sharply, still avoiding meeting his gaze.
"Bend over the desk."
Now she looked at him, her blue eyes wide with shock at his rough order, cheeks flushing and then paling. Alex stood there, his anger leaching away as calm overtook him. Patiently, he stared back at her, crossing his arms over his chest. The door was behind him, there was nowhere for her to go.
But he'd still expected her to argue. To his surprise, she stepped forward and very slowly began bending over the desk. Confusion was clear on her face, as if she herself didn't quite understand why she was obeying him. Seeing her submit so quickly had his cock standing upright, the rush of lust hitting him so fast that he nearly groaned aloud. Perhaps it was her guilty conscience, Alex wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to argue with the results either.
"Stretch out and grip the other side of the desk."
She was short enough that she had to squirm forwards, her fists uncurling so that her fingers could wrap around the far edge. Walking around behind her, Alex could see that her toes were barely touching the floor. Perfect. The vulnerability of her position was incredibly arousing.
When he flipped up her skirts, she made a soft little whimpering sound that wasn't quite a protest. Surreptitiously, he rubbed the front of his pants, making his cock swell even further as he looked down at the creamy expanse of skin that had been revealed. The mounded hills of her buttocks were thrust upwards by her position, the pouting lips of her pussy, fringed with dark curls that made the cream and pink of her skin stand out, peeked from between her thighs. They weren't wet, not yet.
Settling one hand down on the small of her back to both hold up her skirts and keep her from squirming too much, Alex raised his hand.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"Ow!" Grace protested, although he noticed that she still hung on to the desk, even as she tried to wriggle out from underneath his hand. His cock approved.
"I know when you're lying to me, Grace," he said sternly. "I won't tolerate it."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
He kept the slaps to her ass steady but fast, placing them randomly across her buttocks so that she wasn't able to guess where each blow would land. The flesh of her bottom danced and jiggled, from both the spanking and her squirming as her legs kicked a little bit. This was probably the hardest spanking he'd given her yet, but it was well deserved.
The little minx had not only snuck out of Spencer's house, but she'd done it in order to go through Alex's private space, and then had the audacity to try and lie about it. A firmer punishment than he'd given her before was definitely called for.
"Ow! Alex, please, it hurts."
SMACK! SMACK!
"It's supposed to sweetheart," he said, somewhat grimly. "It's going to hurt a lot more by the time I'm done. Did you even think about what you were doing?"
SMACK! SMACK!
"Would you like it if I disappeared from where I told you I was going to be?"
SMACK! SMACK!
"Have I gone through any of your private things?"
SMACK! SMACK!
