Birching His Bride (Domestic Discipline 1) Read online

  Staring at herself in the mirror, recognizing the kind of temptation that this sweetly, innocently seductive gown would have on Edwin, Eleanor ran her hands down her sides. She felt like a completely sensual creature in this gown; the silk caressed her sides as well as her hands, and she immediately wondered what Edwin’s reaction would be to touching her through this kind of silk.

  “I’ll take it.”

  “Bon! Very good, I thought so,” said Madame, smiling cheerfully. “Try another, yes?”

  Eleanor agreed immediately. In the end she bought three negligees, as Madame called them. Remembering Edwin’s reaction to the red dress at home, how he’d wanted her to wear it only for him, she thought that he wouldn’t mind the purchase. She got the silk pink one, of course, and another sweetly innocent one made of white with inserts of chiffon in the skirt so that as she walked and the skirt flared her bare legs flashed teasingly. The third one was made of a completely sheer dark violet fabric with clever lace appliques over the breasts and in a band around her hips. While she wasn’t certain whether or not she would have the courage to wear such a daring garment, even with Edwin as the only audience, she couldn’t resist.

  She was able to take the nightgowns home with her, with the rest of the dresses to be delivered to the hotel the day after tomorrow. Happily humming a popular waltz to herself, Eleanor practically danced out of the shop on feet that felt lighter than air.

  ******

  That night when Edwin came into the bedroom Eleanor was there, pretending to a calm that she didn’t feel. This was the first time that she would truly be initiating intimacies between them; although of course she had teased and flirted with him often enough and occasionally kissed him since they’d begun their honeymoon, she had never done so in their bedroom. Tonight, however, she knew that she was waving a red flag in front of a bull with her attire.

  In the soft flickering light of the fire and the candelabra by their bed her skin almost seemed to glow next to the iridescent sheen of the pink silk.

  Edwin strolled in with his usual air of eagerness, his fingers already busily untying his cravat, as he threw a smile full of sinful promise her way. His head turned away for a mere moment before snapping back in a most satisfying manner, arrested by the sight of her standing next to the bed in her new nightrail , her fingers already gently resting on top of it. Frozen, he stared at her, greedily drinking in the sight, committing it to memory.

  The eagerness with which he always approached their bedtime was overrun by a burning need to claim, to possess. The trepidation on Eleanor’s beautiful face gave way to thrilled triumph, her body slowly shifting from a rather anxious stance to a sensual languor that only increased his ardor.

  “Eleanor…” he rasped, his voice feeling tight in his throat, the air in his lungs burning. “What on earth are you wearing?”

  “Do you like it?” she asked, slowly twirling as she lifted up her arms, the silk shifting and sliding over the soft curves of her body. A small smile lifted her lips when she heard her husband groan as he was treated to a spectacular view of the way it hugged her backside.

  She let out a squeal as she found herself lifted; Edwin had rushed her from behind, overcome by the need to touch her. Tossed onto the bed, she twisted around to see her husband practically tearing off his clothing in his hurry to join her. Anticipation sparkling in her clear blue eyes, she lounged backwards, enjoying the effect every movement she made had on him. The ever suave former rake was struggling with his clothing, unable to tear his eyes away from her as he continued to disrobe, revealing the hard planes of his body that so many women in Paris desired to see and touch.

  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 positio
n.

  “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 he
r 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.

  Edwin didn't miss the trepidation on his wife's face or the lack of real fear in her eyes; she was unsure of what his intentions were but she was not afraid of him. The surge to take her, possess her, claim her, was rising higher than ever before. This honeymoon they'd taken had done more than helped them to settle into their marriage, it had strengthened the bond that had already existed between them to a degree that he had never thought possible. Looking down at her like this, her cheeks becomingly flushed, eyes glowing as if lit from within, with her peaked nipples and supple, ready body, he knew that he would never get enough of having her in his bed, in his life. The time spent together had uncovered the young woman he'd thought must have been there, the sweet, friendly girl that she'd been when she was younger, only in an older and much more appealing package.

  Was she the reason he had never considered marriage before? Was it possible that he had been waiting for her all these years and hadn't even known it?

  Lowering himself on top of her, Edwin captured her lips with a kiss, plundering her mouth as his hands ran down her vulnerable sides. He could feel her shiver beneath him as the helplessness of her situation was reconfirmed as she automatically moved to embrace him, her bound wrists tugging uselessly. Moaning into his mouth, Eleanor's body undulated beneath him as sensual excitement ran through her. They'd spent more than enough time in bed for her to know exactly how pleasurable it could be, and she could sense that there was a new urgency to Edwin's caresses, a new kind of anticipation in the taut lines of his body. Having her bound beneath him was exciting them both.