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“Hmm, I’ll ask Silas if he knows of any litters hereabouts. Talking of the baubles, I was wondering if you would mind sorting through Bunty’s gowns and other female paraphernalia. Donate them where they are needed. I cannot stomach doing the chore myself and I don’t want a servant rummaging through her personal effects, or worse still, perhaps taking and wearing something I shall recognise as Bunty’s.”
She went to him and stood on tiptoe, kissing his cheek. He immediately caught her in his embrace, chin resting on top of her hair.
“I will gladly help with the task,” she agreed softly.
Gregory’s arms tightened. Her heart felt full, and all at once she knew she was right where she belonged.
Preparing for bed that evening,she was startled by her husband’s appearance in her bedchamber. He entered without knocking, whilst she was still at her toilette. Matilda was in the process of brushing out her hair.
“You may leave us. I shall finish that task for your mistress.” Taking the brush from the maid’s hand, he proceeded to tug it through Holly’s thick waves, but did not speak until the maid departed.
“This afternoon while you were alone, did you touch yourself?” he asked gruffly.
Her eyes flew to meet his in the mirror. Her cheeks flamed hot, and her mouth formed an ‘O’ of shock. This was unexpected. How could he ask her such a thing?
“Tsk, tsk, I see guilt writ right across your face, you naughty girl.”
She gaped back at his reflection. Gently, he pushed her head forward so he could continue brushing out her hair.
“I shall give you a couple of choices, retribution for your naughtiness. The first is to accept another spanking, and the second is to show me what you did in bed after I left you alone— Which is it to be?”
Her head snapped up in dismay.
“Icannot, I am… No, Gregory,please,I am so sorry. It was very, um, quick, and really, there is nothing to tell, or, or to show. Please don’t—”
“I shall be making love to you, either way. Make your choice, or I shall decide for you.” Slapping the brush against the palm of his hand he drew her to her feet, turning her to face at him.
Staring at the back of the hard wooden brush she winced each time it connected with his palm, Holly knew could not endure another spanking so soon. Covering her face with her hands, mortified at the thought of choosing to touch herself in front of him, she gave a moan of horror.
Gregory merely chuckled, and pulled her hands from her face. “I am your husband there is no need to be shy with me.” Taking her hand in his, he led her to the bed.
“I should like to watch you touch yourself and you make yourself wet whilst I play with your bounteous breasts. If you feel that you can’t do that, then I shall gladly take you over my lap and spank your delectable arse again. I noticed that spanking you had the added bonus of making your cunny slick. The sight of your creamy buttocks quivering and bouncing beneath my palm has tormented my cock all afternoon. I could barely contain myself through dinner.”
She stared at him in shock. How could her very proper and gentlemanly husband talk so crudely? Yet instead of disgust, a shiver of anticipation ran down her spine. A slickness formed at her apex which coated her inner thighs.
He cupped her chin, his thumb swept across her lips in a sensual caress. “Your answer, if you please, my lady?”
“I— All right, I will do as you wish. I shall t-touch myself.” she whispered.
Leaning in he brushed her lips with his, then leant down and took hold of the hem of her nightgown. Whipping it over her head, he cast it aside. Hastily, she scrambled into the bed and pulled the sheet up to cover herself.
Without the trappings of his everyday attire of starched shirt, waistcoat, jacket, and trousers, Gregory looked every inch the highwayman she had first thought he’d resembled. His dark hair tousled; his shaded eyes gleamed with lust. She was reminded of a wolf she’d seen depicted in a book, predatory and male. Pulling his nightshirt up over his head, she sucked in her breath. The garment slid up to reveal his burgeoning manhood. Holly marvelled at the sight of his solid veined cock. She knew the pleasure his shaft could bring and regarded his manhood with awe.
Yanking the bedclothes off her, he lay beside her, elbow bent, head propped upon his hand as he studied her naked form.
“Begin,” he said gruffly. His hand slid down to grasp his cock.
Holly watched, fascinated as he gave his erection several tugs. Her hand snaked out of its own accord to touch his swollen flesh. His own instantly dropped away. She grasped him by the thick root, moving her palm over the velvet-clad, iron-hardness.
“Enough. Play with your quim,” he ordered hoarsely.
Gregory resumed his own manipulations of his cock.
Watching, she put her fingers in the slickness betwixt her legs and circled her folds, centring her fondling on the raised nub of her clitoris. Her feverish gaze mesmerized by the sight of Gregory’s hand encircling his cock. A clear bead of liquid welled from a tiny slit in the head. Without thinking about what she should or shouldn’t do, she leant over and swiped it away with her tongue; the taste, salty and wholly male, was not unpleasant.
It seemed her action was some sort of catalyst for Gregory who suddenly rolled her onto her back and reared over her, nudged her legs apart with one of his own and settled between her legs. Holly gasped at the delicious pressure as he plunged into her slick channel, pounding her into the mattress until she flew apart, culminating with a cry, his name upon her lips. She felt him stiffen, his shaft swelled and fluctuated against the walls of her sheath. Another paroxysm of pleasure shook her. Smaller waves of pleasure overwhelming her as Gregory gave a gruff yell and collapsed atop her.
“I think I have found something far more delightful than an evening of dancing,” she mused, stretching languidly beneath his heavy frame.
