Page 65 of A Duchess Disciplined

“I see,” she said.

Catherine straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. Remaining still seemed simple enough in principle, but already, her breath had quickened. Her muscles were all tight with anticipation of what might come. William trailed a single finger down the length of her spine, and although Catherine remained still, her body wanted to shiver at the small touch. She ached to press against him, for he touched her so lightly. It was as if his touches were a butterfly flitting about a flower.

“I know it is hard,” he murmured against her ear. “I know that it goes against your nature to be so still, but I would not ask this of you if I did not think you could do it.”

Her toes curled. Catherine took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She imagined that she was a woman carved from marble, a woman who would remain still and silent no matter what happened to her.

“Close your eyes,” William said.

She did.

“Very good,” he murmured. “You are so good at being obedient when you want to be.”

William traced a line from one of her shoulders to the other. He moved his fingertips over her collarbone and her throat, down her arms and up her ribs. Catherine clenched her jaw, as the heat between her thighs grew. She must remain still, as he had asked. Shewantedto remain still. It was a challenge, and Catherine was determined to win.

With a pulse of need, Catherine realized that a small part of her alsowantedto be his proper duchess, hisgood girlwho could endure anything. Abruptly, pain surged through her nipple, as William pinched her there and rolled the pink bud between his fingers. Her eyes snapped open, and a ragged groan tore from her throat.

William clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I saidbe still.”

He slapped her rear, and she jolted forward with a rather uncomely squeak. A light stinging spread through her right buttock, and she fought back the urge to reach behind her and caress the place where he had struck.

“Be still and silent,” he said. “If you do not obey me, I shall correct you.”

“You are unkind, sir.”

Another slap. Catherine clenched her buttocks and stifled a groan. William’s fingers rolled her other nipple, and a rush of liquid trickled between her thighs. Her breath quickened, and sweat gathered beneath her breasts. Still, she fought to remain still.

His hands caressed over the marks left by his corrections and down her thighs. William’s fingertips swept through the proof of her arousal, and Catherine’s knees felt weak.

Be still. Be still. Be still.

He approached her from behind and pressed against her, so his hard manhood bulged against the small of her back. He cupped her breasts and kneaded them between his hands. Catherine’s hips bucked, and she realized her error too late.

William rewarded the motion with two quick slaps, one on each buttock. Then, his hands returned to her breasts. His lips pressed against her throat. “Be my good duchess,” he murmured. “I know that you can do what I am asking of you. Be still and let me do as I please.”

She forced down the lump that rose in her throat. Catherine’s pulse raced, increasing in tempo with every ministration. Her center ached madly, pulsing and dripping with need. She ached to rub herself and soothe the growing urge, but she could not. William fondled her breasts, his touches very gently. Without warning, he pinched her nipples. Catherine bit back a groan as the twin points of painful pleasure grew.

William continued pinching and rolling her nipples between his fingers, and Catherine’s need grew so great that her eyes burned with unshed tears. His fingers drifted lower, and he ran them through the curls of hair between her thighs. William’s hand drifted lower, and Catherine’s breath quickened as he approached that one place where she wanted him to touch her the most.

He moved his hand away and slapped her thigh instead. Catherine arched her back. She whimpered with longing. Her thoughts were heady and incoherent with the weight of her desire. Catherine had the wild thought that she might have preferred it if he had instead slapped her center, and the thought of that sharp, stinging slap against the apex of her thighs sent another surge of arousal pulsing from inside her.

“You are not learning this lesson well,” William said, sighing in mock disapproval. “I wonder if I ought to reward you for making the attempt, at least.”

“Please,” she breathed. “I cannot bear it much longer.”

“You will,” he said, chuckling.

Catherine’s entire body trembled, and sweat pooled at the small of her back. She was so very hot, the need inside her like an inferno. By the time William’s torment ended, Catherine was panting for air.

He stepped away, and she heard his heavy footsteps cross the floor. The scrape of a chair followed next. “Come,” William said.

On trembling legs, Catherine did as he asked. She was far too gone with desire to even consider defiance.

“Sit,” he said.

She did, and he gazed at her with a dark expression. A shiver of delight coursed through her.

“Spread your legs.”

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