Birching His Bride (Domestic Discipline 1) Read online

  Remembering the first time he'd seen Eleanor birched, in a position very similar to this, he couldn't stop the throb of heat that went straight to his cock. Perhaps he shouldn't be enjoying her punishment quite as much as he was but Eleanor was an extremely attractive and sensual woman, and even a punishment became an erotic experience with her. The creaminess of her skin around her rosy bottom, the flash of wet pink flesh at the center of her cuntpurse, the swollen lips pouting enticingly from their frame of damp, honey-gold curls; all of it seemed designed to raise a man's ardor, no matter the circumstances. As he raised his arm he wondered if she would be as wet and aroused after her birching as she was after her spankings.

  The birch fell across her pink bottom, leaving streaks of darker red as Eleanor let out a gasping cry. Her body bowed backwards a little, her fingers digging into the bed sheets. A second blow fell across her quivering bottom, slightly higher than the first, leaving new dark welts across her flesh, stinging like a thousand angry bees attacking the already sensitized skin of her bottom. With every strike her body jerked, although the birch fell five times before she truly cried out, her muscles flexing as she did her best to hold herself in position.

  "I'm sorry!" she said, her voice muffled by the bed sheets, desperate for the punishment to end, hoping that a spontaneous apology might end the lashing across her burning skin. Still, even now, contrite as she was, her pride couldn't quite allow herself to speak clearly or to face her husband. Another stroke fell across her already flaming bottom and she choked back an outraged protest. Eleanor was becoming quite heartily sorry that she'd provoked her husband in such a manner; why couldn't she have been more patient? Why did she have to make a production of things? She'd regretted the menu almost as soon as her fantasy had been made into reality, why hadn't she realized beforehand that such a plan would not only result in a disciplining from her husband, but also the uncomfortable guilt?

  A blow landed diagonally across the pouting folds of her sex, making Eleanor howl and causing the pouting lips to plump, an angry pink beneath the thatch of golden hairs. Edwin had remembered the way her father had deliberately laid one line across that sensitive area, the way she had reacted to that punishment. The tension in her body seemed to collapse and Eleanor no longer braced herself against the bed but lay across it, submitting to the birch as Edwin delivered the last three blows across her welted and burning red bottom.

  By the time he was finished he was breathing heavily, staring at his wife's lusciously tormented flesh as he dropped the birch to the ground beneath him. Kneeling behind her, blood seemed to pound in his ears as he gripped her bottom cheeks in both hands, squeezing the tender flesh and making her writhe. The heat seemed to sear his palms, the musky humidity of her quim calling to him. Everything about her was hot and squirming, inflaming his loins in a way that savaged his self-control.

  "Edwin..." she said in a shaky voice as her husband squeezed her bottom, bringing with it a fresh surge of pain and yet something else too, something that tingled along her nerves all the way up her spine and left her feeling breathless.

  But surely... surely he couldn't want to do that right now.

  His hands pushed at her skin, separating her buttocks and she could feel his hot breath on her open sex. Eleanor cried out a protest, trying to push herself up as Edwin leaned forward and planted his mouth onto her swollen folds, his tongue sliding up the center and wreaking havoc with her sense. Bent over, completely exposed, her bottom throbbed painfully as Edwin began an erotic assault below it, his weight on his hands pressing her hips into the bed and making it impossible for her to escape this new humiliation as her body betrayed her.

  "Edwin, no... we can't... you just punished me..." Eleanor clawed at the bed sheets, her legs trembling with weakness as his tongue pressed into her. If she had been supporting her own weight she would have fallen as pure pleasure lashed through her with stunning swiftness, mingling with the ache in her buttocks and confusing her utterly. Despite the tears of pain that were still clinging to her eyelashes, the flames of desire in her core were already igniting, craving the tender tracings of his tongue, the rough abrasion of his hands against her skin.

  "And now you're forgiven," he purred from behind her, slipping two fingers into her sopping heat and groaning with lust as she contracted around him. Fascinated by the welts on her bottom he began tracing them with his tongue, feeling the struggle in her flesh as she attempted to throw off the erotic need that had awakened inside of her, trying to grasp her outrage and dignity. Edwin did his best to thwart her efforts, pumping his fingers back and forth in her hot tunnel as he licked and kissed the bruised flesh of her bottom, massaging it with his free hand.

  "Nnooooooo," Eleanor said, moaning, but it was as much a protest against herself as it was against him. Her husband had long since learned how to snare her senses; she was melting beneath his caresses, his hand gentling as he rubbed her abused rear in an almost comforting manner. The clever fingers inside of her curved and twisted, making Eleanor writhe like a cat in heat before him, unable to control her responses as her hips began to move of their own accord, meeting the thrust of his fingers.

  "Very good wife." Edwin's voice was like the chocolate drink she had with breakfast, sinking into her with a melting heat and filling her belly with warmth. Every time his hand rubbed over a particularly tender spot on her bottom she shuddered and her body tightened around his fingers. "You like that it hurts, don't you? You just don't want to admit it."

  She shook her head, not sure which statement she was responding to, but unwilling to trust her voice to answer. Everything had become confused.

  There was a slight rustle of clothing behind her and then Edwin's fingers retreated, leaving her moaning for relief. It only took a moment before his hard rod was splitting her open from behind, bringing back the memory of the first time he'd taken her from behind after a spanking. Now, as then, her body responded with eagerness, despite the jolts of pain every time his furred groin pressed against the tender skin of her bottom. His body hair rasped and abraded the welts, and yet she couldn't stop herself from pushing back against him, spearing herself on his shaft. It pierced her body open, sensuous friction as it tunneled into her wet heat, the heavy grip on her hips helping him to control the long slow strokes that he was taking in and out of her body.

  Eleanor groaned and shuddered, wriggling as Edwin took his time with her, admiring the sight of her disciplined bottom jiggling as she tried to back herself onto him. The pink crinkled rosebud of her anus winked at him between her beaten cheeks, a sinful and delightful sight. Despite her obvious reluctance to show her arousal, honey was dripping from the hole he was thrusting into, coating his cock with a sheen of moisture. The punishment had not been pleasant, but the pain had easily been turned to erotic heat, giving way to rising pleasure.

  From her movements beneath him, which were slowly becoming more frantic, he knew that she was beginning to feel the crest of her climax. Her hands pressed into the bed, trying to push her body back against him to increase the pace of his thrusts, her hips wriggling in his hands. It took all of his self-control not to give in to the temptation to pound hard into her; instead he kept his slow, steady pace as Eleanor's erotic moans increased in intensity, rising in volume as her sheath tightened around him.

  "Edwin... Edwin please..." The need for release was becoming almost painful, her husband's control over her body, over the pace of their lovemaking was keeping her right on the edge of culmination without allowing her to go over.

  "Tell me Eleanor," he leaned forward, driving deeper into her as she gasped, his voice hoarse with lust. "Tell me you like it." His hands shifted on her hips to cover her bottom, fingers digging into the soft, reddened flesh, awakening nerve endings with fiery tendrils of pain that blossomed and combined with her pleasure. Back arching she cried out, pushing back against him, wanting more of the exquisite mix of sensations he was creating within her, not caring where it came from. "Tell me, sweetheart."r />
  "I like it," she sobbed out, pushing back against him. "Oh God Edwin... don't stop..."

  He growled and lunged, slamming into her mercilessly, just the way she craved it. The abrading roughness of his thrusts against her bottom, the fast hard thrusts into her shuddering quim, sent her careening forward into a free fall of ecstasy. Eleanor writhed before him, beneath him, her sobs of pleasure falling onto his eager ears as she tightened and convulsed around his rampaging cock, moaning his name over and over again.

  With a grunt of exertion, he pulled himself free of her body and grasped her around the waist, tossing her up fully onto the bed before she knew what was happening. His wife looked up at him with pleasure glazed eyes, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, as he crawled on top of her, sliding his cream-covered cock back into her snugly, squeezing passage.

  "Edwin... oh no... It’s too much..." Eleanor's eyes rolled back into her head as he thrust strongly into her, her body overwhelmed by the feel of her husband's weight on top of her, her sensitive bottom rubbing against the nubby material of the bed sheets in a way that sent sparkles of pain sizzling through her. And yet the overriding sensation was one of extreme pleasure, pleasure so intense that she struggled uselessly against it as her husband began to ride her again, filling her over and over as he rutted between her splayed thighs.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders, nails scoring over his muscles as she heaved and writhed beneath him. Legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs, Eleanor’s body seemed to draw him deeper even as she pleaded with him to slow down. Mewling whimpers escaped her throat as her bottom flared with heat on the sheets beneath them, her insides quivering and tightening around the thrusting iron rod, her husband’s flesh pulsing within her own.

  “Again sweetheart,” Edwin demanded, his voice rasping over her sense as he buried his face into her neck, biting at the sensitive skin. She gasped and undulated as his hand slid down between them, rubbing against the swollen, sensitized nub at the apex of her sex.

  “No, Edwin, I can’t… I can’t…. oh please…” Eleanor’s back bowed, so forcefully that she almost lifted her husband off of her as he tormented her swollen flesh.

  “Yes, again,” he murmured, and bit her earlobe as he squeezed and thrust.

  Tears leaked from her eyes due to the intensity of her climax, she screamed Edwin’s name – a feat that he’d never accomplished before no matter how pleasurable her prior releases had been. The sound of his wife wild with passion echoed in his ears as her legs and arms wrapped around him and held him tightly, every muscle in her body rigid and throbbing. He groaned and shuddered as he emptied himself into her hot cavern, filling her with jet after jet of creamy seed.

  They rocked together, their movements slowing as their muscle unwound. Wrapped around each other so closely that he could barely tell where he ended and she began, Edwin closed his eyes and greedily inhaled the scene of his well-pleasured wife. She was so soft and supple beneath him, everything he’d ever dreamed a wife would be. For this he would endure a great deal more than an evening without dinner.

  When he finally released her, Eleanor let out another little whimper and rolled onto her stomach, easing the pressure off of her bottom.

  Edwin chuckled as she let out a moan of relief now that the tender area wasn’t being crushed by their combined weight.

  “Stay here sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear. For a moment Eleanor hated him. As if it wasn’t already humiliating enough that he’d punished her and then commenced with taking his marital rights, and doing it in such a manner that she’d lost complete control over her body, now he was laughing at her?

  But she quickly revised her feelings towards him when he came back to the bed and began to smooth a cool cream onto the flaming globes of her bottom.

  “Ooooooo… that feels so good…”

  It was amazing how Edwin’s hands could be hard as rock when he was spanking her as opposed to the gentleness with which he now touched her. There was a tenderness to the slow circles he made on her flaming skin, soothing her both physically and emotionally.

  “I’ve been thinking sweetheart,” he said conversationally and Eleanor bit back the immediate retort that wanted to spring from her lips. “I’m going to neglect you terribly for the next three days and then we’re going to go on our honeymoon. I think it’s best if we get out of the city for a few weeks. We were both thrust into this so quickly, we’ll be able to gain some distance from our day to day lives, spend some time with each other and then have a fresh start when we come back.” Very gently he turned her over onto her back so that he could see her face, slightly flushed and her eyes still a little swollen from crying while she was being punished, she looked absolutely beautiful with her disheveled blonde hair falling around her shoulders. “What do you think?”

  “If it pleases you, Edwin,” she murmured, making it sound as though she would agree to anything that he wanted, although he was fairly certain that he saw a small spark of excitement in her eyes. For some reason part of her didn’t want him to know how wonderful that sounded to her.

  “Shall we go to Paris, darling?” he asked, sliding his hand up her stomach to fondle her breast. Eleanor bit her lip and her eye lashes fluttered as her nipple darkened and hardened under his touch. Leaning his face closer to hers, Edwin brushed damp hair back from her forehead with his other hand. “Would that make you happy?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, and then bit her lip again, her expression looking almost confused.

  It was a good idea, Edwin decided as he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her gently at first and then with rising passion. Shifting on the bed so that his long body lay against the length of hers, he continued to fondle her breasts as he deepened the kiss. Eleanor was fighting the marriage, but perhaps instead of familiarity what she really needed was a complete change of scenery to help her adjust. There were too many distractions from each other here; not just his work but their social lives, their friends… on their honeymoon she would have to interact with him and he could work at making her happy while simultaneously doing what he could to uncover the sweet and generous woman that he knew she truly was.

  Chapter 8

  The next three days passed quickly for both Edwin and Eleanor as they readied for departure. His sudden announcement had taken her by surprise and she found her time filled with overseeing packing, sending their regrets to invitations and the other million small duties that needed to be seen to in order for travel. There was barely time for her to have a small chat with her mother, most of which centered on the plans for Hugh’s wedding. The slightly bitter jealousy that she'd been feeling every time she'd had to hear about Hugh's wedding plans had mostly dissipated now that she had her honeymoon to focus on.

  Hugh was taking Miss Chandler on a honeymoon to one of the family's many estates. As she was not at all well-traveled and hadn't been anywhere but her own family's estates and London, Irene had expressed herself content to stay within England. Since Hugh hated to travel this suited him admirably; he much preferred to spend his time out at the country estates with his horses and dogs, fishing and comporting himself outdoors. In the few private moments that they stole together to converse, he expressed his excitement about showing Miss Chandler the estates, as she'd declared herself quite a country miss at heart.

  An unsettled feeling had roiled in the pit of Eleanor's stomach as her brother enthused over how well matched he and Miss Chandler were. Somehow from the few implications of her character that he made, Eleanor's understanding of Miss Chandler did not seem to match her brother's at all. She had certainly not received the impression that Miss Chandler would prefer life in the country over the glitter of London Society, and the odd conversation that she'd had at the dinner party with Irene stuck in her mind. But how to bring such a subject up to her brother? Before she could decide to speak, her mother interrupted their conversation and she and Hugh did not have another opportunity to speak.

  Although s
he did not see Edwin during the day, he more than made up for his absence when he came to her rooms at night. Other than the days when she'd had her courses, Edwin had been a constant presence in her bedchamber, and these nights he seemed especially amorous. Her bottom was still quite sore, although healing, which only seemed to arouse him further. The very first evening he'd come into her bedchamber as Poppy had been brushing her hair. Dismissing the maid, Edwin had taken over the task. It had been a remarkably intimate experience, having her hair brushed by her husband, watching him in the mirror as he dragged the brush through the golden strands. With his broad shoulders and darkly handsome countenance he'd looked almost like a sinful dark angel, looming behind her light and gold features; dangerous yet erotic.

  Soon he was dragging his fingers through her hair, rather than the brush, winding his hand into the silky locks and tipping her head back to devour her mouth in a hot kiss. They hadn't made it to the bed for that evening's first round of amorous pursuits. Instead Edwin had sat her upon the hard wood of her dresser, taking her away from the cushioned seat she'd been resting upon, and she'd cried out as he'd pounded into her, her sore bottom bouncing on the uncomfortable surface and somehow enhancing the pleasure she found as he speared her over and over again. Indeed, every night Edwin seemed to enjoy reawakening the soreness in her bottom, and to Eleanor's shame her climaxes were more intense than ever before.

  Yet when he finally handed her up into their carriage to depart for the docks, Eleanor found that her husband had considerately placed her favorite cushion upon her seat, to ensure that she would ride in comfort. As they were leaving in the early morning she found herself leaning against her husband's broad shoulder, feeling strangely warm and secure beneath his arm. Neither of them were in the mood for conversation it seemed, and she drifted in and out of sleep as the carriage jolted and bounced along the streets, the slight chill of the morning air having no effect on her as she was warmed by her husband's body.