Birching His Bride (Domestic Discipline 1) (13 page)

And he was hers, all hers.

Practically purring Eleanor got onto her
knees and crawled across the mattress towards him. Arrested by the sight, Edwin
paused for a moment, his breeches only halfway down his legs as he stared at
her.

“You didn’t tell me whether or not you like
it,” she murmured, settling on the edge of the bed, her weight on one elbow as
she stretched out her legs along the side of the bed.

Finally naked, Edwin reached out and traced
his hand down the side of her body, making her catch her breath as her skin
heated beneath his touch. Beneath the silk her nipples hardened in
anticipation, rubbing against the wonderful fabric.

“You look… I don’t have the words for it,” he
said in a husky voice, his eyes following the movement of his hand as it traced
its way down to her thigh. “Like temptation. Like innocence. Like half of my
fantasies come to life.”

Eleanor pouted at him teasingly, pushing
herself up onto one hand. “Only half?”

Something his eyes glinted wickedly. “Would
you like to see the other half?”

Curiosity welled as she stared up at her
husband, looming over her, magnificent in his nakedness.  The musculature of
his body was caressed by the dim lighting, he was completely unabashed standing
before her, his manhood proudly erect and so hard it practically touched his
stomach.  Reaching out she caressed the steely length, amazed – as always – by
the velvety softness of his skin sheathed over iron. Edwin shuddered and
groaned, his head falling back for a moment as her slim fingers wrapped around
him.

As much as he wanted to grab her and have his
way with her, he was enjoying her new brazenness. He wanted to see how far she
would go in her explorations. Although she’d touched him before, had taken his
cock in her hand, it had almost always been at his behest and encouragement.  She
had certainly never blatantly displayed herself the way she was now – she’d
never needed to.  Edwin needed nothing more than to think of having his wife
and his blood would begin to pound.  This new side of her that she was showing
deserved to be encouraged, to be developed, so he didn’t want to rush past it.

Although, if she did want to indulge in his
fantasies then he would be taking control away from her immediately anyway, but
he wanted it to be her decision.

Sliding her hand up and down Edwin’s length a
few times, pumping him in her tight grip, Eleanor was entranced by her
husband’s reactions. His jaw clenched, his fists clenched, as if every part of
him was holding back.  The power she had over him in this moment was
enthralling.

But she wanted to know her husband’s
fantasies, and she knew that she couldn’t possibly match him for expertise in
sensual matters.  While she hated to think of how that knowledge had been
gained, hated to think of him doing this with any other woman, she comforted
herself with his apparent singular interest in her bed.  If she knew his
fantasies, if she learned from him all that he knew, then she could keep him
from straying.  And if he did, then she could use her knowledge to repay him in
kind, with any lover of her choice. But she didn’t consider that an option for
now, what she desired were ways to tie Edwin to herself. 

She’d already come to terms with the
knowledge that she wouldn’t have quite the marriage she wanted; as much as
Edwin desired her, he never spoke in words of love or treated her the way she’d
imagined her husband would, but it was obvious that he desired her and that she
could gain much of what she’d originally wanted from a besotted husband through
a husband that desired her.  It seemed to her that the more she could please
him in this arena, the happier her marriage would be.

Some small part of her in the back of her
mind seemed to say that she was making excuses, thinking of convoluted reasons
to hide her desire to please Edwin, but she ignored that.  Trying to please her
husband didn’t mean that she would end up like her mother, after all, Edwin was
obviously trying to please her as well and he was doing a very good job of it. 
It was only natural that she reciprocate.

“Show me,” she said, cutting off any further
chance for thought, wanting to sink into the delightful physicality of their
passion, knowing that doing so would make further introspection impossible.

Edwin opened his eyes again, their dark
depths smoldering with a fire that she was becoming very familiar with.  He
reached for her…

Less than thirty seconds later Eleanor found
herself in a very familiar and very unwelcome position.

“Edwin!” she protested as she struggled to
get up from her position over his lap, his forearm easily holding her in place.

“Relax sweetheart, this is for pleasure, not
for punishment.”

“Whose pleasure?” she asked sarcastically,
although she had to admit to herself that the way his hand was caressing her
bottom through the silk nightgown did in fact feel quite nice. 

“Not all spankings have to be unpleasant,” he
said, and his hand came down sharply on her bottom.

Sharply but not painfully.  Eleanor jumped at
the contact, more indignant than anything else.  It didn’t hurt, no, but she
wasn’t entirely pleased at this turn of events. The first time he had spanked
her over his lap she’d been unwillingly aroused by his nearness, by the
intimacy of it.  Now, over his naked lap, she was more aware than ever of the
heat of his body, the press of his cock against her side.  There was no doubt
that her husband found punishing her bottom arousing, but she hadn’t realized
that it would feature in a fantasy, she thought they’d do something new!

“I love seeing your pretty bottom turn pink,”
Edwin said, lifting the hem of her skirt up so that he could see the creamy
globes, caressing and then spanking again. Eleanor blushed to hear him speak so
indelicately, somewhat shocked at his admission.  She hadn't been unaware
that disciplining her had an effect on him, but she had certainly never
expected to hear him express such a sentiment! The hand on her bottom lingered
after each sharp bite, as if he was rubbing the slap into her skin, but instead
of increasing the pain the caresses somehow turned the pain into something
else.  Something hot and wanton, not quite pleasure, because it still
hurt, but something that wasn't punishment at all.

Burying her face in the bed she muffled her
whimpering moans as he slapped and caressed, all too aware of the excited
increase in his breathing, the hardness of his manhood pressing against her
body.  Her own sensual heat was rising along with the temperature of her
bottom; Edwin had been nothing but truthful when
he'd said that not all spankings were the same. 
This one was a wholly new experience for her, the biting smacks and the firm
press of his fingers rubbing against her skin as the silky night gown slipped
and slid against her body was arousing her to an almost painful degree.

When his hand dipped down
to press between her legs, Edwin found that his wife was sopping wet, her curls
soaked with honey.  A throaty cry fell from her lips as he thrust two
fingers into the ready aperture, penetrating her swollen heat.  He nearly
groaned as he felt her flex around his fingers, pumping the digits back and
forth in her clasping hole for several strokes before pulling them out and
sucking the juices from his fingers.  Eleanor writhed on his lap, a vision
of golden hair and ivory skin, the pale rose of her bottom matching the
delicate pink of her nightgown.  She had submitted completely to him,
allowing him to indulge in his fantasy without protest, responding to it with
all the ardor he could have wished for.

SLAP!

His hand came down on her
upturned bottom again, and he gripped her flesh harder this time, digging in
his fingers a bit and enjoying the way she writhed on his lap. "Do you
like it Eleanor?"

SLAP!

Gasp. A low moan. 
Fingers pushed inside of her and then pulled out as she tried to move her hips
back to catch them. SLAP!

"I can feel how hot
and wet you are." The masculine growl in Edwin's voice was becoming
deeper, almost threatening. "I want to hear you say it Nell."

SLAP! She flexed her
fingers in the sheets, feeling almost dizzy with the overload of sensations as
his fingers delved her depths again, craving the sensation of being
filled.  Was she silent because she didn't want to answer or because she
didn't want him to stop? Eleanor wasn't sure.

SLAP!

Edwin's hand came down
across the swollen lips of her sex, the strike reverberating through her center
as she arched her back and let out a cry that was half-protest, half-ecstasy. 
It stung, it burned... and it felt so good. Her insides clenched and pulsed
emptily, hungering, wanting.

"Edwin..."

"Tell me," he
insisted, rubbing his fingers over her pouting flesh, cleverly avoiding the
erect bud of her pearl, circling his fingers around it and teasing her
senses.  She felt nearly mindless from the wash of sensations coursing
through her.

"I want you," she
whispered, almost shyly, turning her head just slightly to peek at him through
the falling locks of her hair.  He wasn't looking at her face; his eyes
were greedily, hungrily drinking into the sight of her bottom as he ran his
hand over the warm flesh, before bringing it down hard again.  For the
first time she saw his face as he spanked her, the hot, hard expression on his
face, the eagerness in his eyes, the way his tongue flicked over his lower lip
as if he was tempted to somehow taste her reaction.

"That's not what I
asked Nell," he said, and now he did turn his head towards her face and
she quickly turned hers away, her cheeks blushing hot pink, as if she'd been
caught doing something illicit.  There was something feverish in her
husband's dark eyes, making them glow with faint embers, like charred logs in a
dying fire. 

For a moment she was
silent, feeling Edwin's long fingers caressing her warmed bottom, sliding down
over the wet curls around her sex, trailing along the crease between her
buttocks and her thighs, and then returning to curve over the pink globes in a
proprietary manner. 

"I like
it."  Although her voice was soft, it wasn't quite a whisper, more of
a confession, a thread of wonderment in her voice at her admission. 
"Not... I don’t like it when you spank me to punish me. But I like
this." Shyly she peered over her shoulder again, meeting Edwin's
eyes.  There was a strangeness to the expression on his face, something
she hadn't seen before.  As if her words had affected him more deeply than
he'd anticipated.

The intensity of
electricity between them seemed too much to bear and he tore his gaze away,
returning it to her exposed bottom.  Raising his hand he let loose a
flurry of spanks on her vulnerable cheeks, giving vent to some of the emotion
that was constricting his chest.  Her cries of pain and pleasure as she
jerked and shuddered over his lap did the same for Eleanor, submerging these
new feelings into overwhelming physical sensation.

Then she was turning - or
rather, being turned - and she found herself on her back, Edwin tugging the
silky nightdress from her body.  Willingly she raised her arms and let him
bare her completely.  The soreness of the skin across her bottom was
filled with a sensual heat; he hadn't spanked her long enough or hard enough
for it to truly hurt, only enough to ignite the fires of her passion, that part
of her inner desires that responded to being spanked by him. 

He scooped up his cravat
from the floor and grasped her wrists, deftly winding the fabric around them as
Eleanor blinked with surprise, completely taken aback.

"What-?" Eleanor
started to ask, blinking her startled blue eyes as Edwin lifted her arms above
her head, forcing her to lie down on her back with her hands almost pressing
against the headboard.

"This is part of my
fantasy," he murmured into her neck, his fingers deftly tying the cravat
around one of the posts in the headboard.  Eleanor's soft body beneath him
was shivering with excitement, her hard nipples rubbing against the wiry hairs
of his chest, and he was exerting every ounce of his willpower not to just
thrust into her and take her immediately.  But he wanted to enjoy this
moment, to indulge his senses, and drag this experience out for as long as
possible, especially now that she was bound and completely vulnerable to him.

Part of her thought that she
should have been frightened, her hands twitched as she realized that she was
securely restrained and couldn't move her arms at all, but instead she found
her excitement rising as she began to breath faster.  Anxiety rose along
with her anticipation as Edwin raised himself up on his forearms to look down
at her, as if she was a tasty treat that he was going to devour.  She'd
often thought he looked like a dangerous predator, so darkly masculine with a
potent air of power to his movements, but now she realized that she also
trusted him.  Strange... how could she trust a man who had taken a birch
to her unwilling backside? Who had brokered a marriage deal with her father
behind her back and not even allowed her half a Season? And yet, now that she
was completely helpless before him, beneath him, she realized that she did
trust him at least enough not to be frightened even though she was at his
mercy.