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Chapter Sixteen
IT WAS NOT what Mildred wanted to see.
Moments before, she had savored his growl, his shivers as he found his own release. Her own had thrilled, astounded, delighted her to no end. She had never before felt such divine intensity, had wondered if her body might implode or explode. Every second had been a wonder. His strength as he’d bucked her against the cross; his stamina in pumping his hardness up into her, maintaining an angle that drew the most beautiful heat through her loins; his expression when he gazed down upon her. She had not felt her plain self. Even if he took her merely because he had no other option available to him—undoubtedly he had only the most utilitarian use for her body—the joining of their bodies excited her. She had relished it all.
But not the guilt she saw in his eyes. The regret. It would ruin the beauty of what had transpired betwixt them. She could not let it happen.
“Thank you, my lord, thank you,” she said. “I hope it was as pleasurable for you as it was for me.”
“There would not be the evidence of it upon the floor if it were not the case,” he said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. He looked her in the eyes. “Was it pleasurable for you?”
“Exceedingly.”
“Truly? I think I was overly harsh in my motions. Sometimes it is hard to contain the force of the carnal.”
“I welcome it, my lord. It would not have been fitting if you had approached it differently after the flogging.”
He grimaced and pulled away to replace his fall. “I ought not have—I ought to have been more gentle.”
“That would not be in accordance with Château Follet.”
He undid her shackles. “Nevertheless, your introduction here could have been milder.”
She rubbed her sore limbs. “But it would not have thrilled nearly as much.”
He seemed surprised by her boldness and was silent.
“I pray you suffer no regrets,” she added. “I will lose all respect for you if you do.”
“What of you? Will you regret?”
“Not at all.”
“You will think differently tomorrow.”
“Why ask me if you are so certain that you know the answer to your own question?”
He stared at her, then a smile appeared. He looked down at her stays. “Allow me.”
She stepped back. “Are we done already?”
He was visibly taken aback by her question but answered, “Yes, we are done.”
She glanced down at her breasts, recalling how he had looked upon them with desire. “But I had hoped to take your member.”
“Millie…did you think we were engaged in something other than congress?”
“Into my mouth.”
His eyes steeled, and he pressed his lips into a firm line. “I will not degrade you further.”
“But there is titillation in degradation, is there not? Is it not supremely wanton and wicked to take that man’s part and place it where nature had not intended?”
“Millie, the hour is late.”
“Do you not enjoy the act?”
“Millie, I will not allow you to browbeat me into this.”
