Page 71 of A Duchess to Unravel
Thiswas the torture. Not the spank of her backside, not the bite of Alistair’s teeth. The void. Of not seeing, of not knowing where he was. If he looked at her in awe or disgust. Of not knowing if he was even looking at her at all.
Theo’s feelings and sensations amplified in the cold, bare, silence, she almost wept with relief when she felt Alistair’s large hand caress down her spine.
“Shhh, little kitten,” he soothed into her ear. “I am here.”
A tear slipped Theo’s cheek, overwhelmed by the strange trick he was playing on her. It was not just her flesh he was toying with but her emotions as well.
Alistair’s caress continued. Down her spine, over her hips. Those skilled fingertips traced up her waist and to her breasts. They played with her nipples delicately until she felt she wasbeing teased to insanity, and then when she let out a whimper, the touch ceased immediately. She swayed forward, panting as the wicked pleasure drew toward too much, and then she felt another white hot sting against her backside. This time, her left cheek.
She trembled with overstimulation as she surged forward, caught quickly once again by Alistair’s iron-like forearm.
“I am sorry,” she panted, sinking into his hold.
She had no idea where the words came from or why it was those words that broke from her lips, but she knew as soon as she heard them they were the correct ones. She waited for another sting. Or another reprimand, reminding her that she did not have permission to speak. But Alistair only continued to hold her upright, his body statue-like in its rigidness.
“I am sorry, Your Grace” she said breathily, “For disobeying you.”
She meant it, too. Wholly and irrevocably. When she thought of what her punishment would be nothing like this had ever crossed her mind. She’d pictured his anger and impatience coming out in other forms- but not this. Not this sensory torture that was both melting her body and freezing it at the same time.
“That’s my good girl,” Alistair whispered into her ear, massaging soothing circles into her backside.
Theo absolutely dissolved at the praise, her body going positively liquid. Alistair brought her up into his arms in one smooth swing, and she felt him walk a few steps. When he stopped and lowered her onto the soft bed.
Anticipation spiked in her again, thinking that she was about to feel Alistair’s lips against her body; that he was going to lay her down and give her those shivers of release she was now so addicted to. Instead, he removed her blindfold, and after patiently waiting for her to blink and have sight again, he held out her clothes to her.
“Get dressed.” He commanded, his black eyes glittering with need as he stared down at her.
Hurt and disappointment sliced through her, and with a trembling hand, she reached for her corset.
“We are leaving?” she asked, and found the tone of her own voice positively pathetic.
Alistair gave her a single, solemn nod.
“But I thought that was my punishment,” she weakly argued.
“It was,” Alistair stated, moving round the bed to cinch her corset for her. “And now we must go home.”
“But why?” She asked, then gasped as Alistair strung her corset tight.
“Because for what I am about to do ye, lass?” Alistair bit out, guiding her back into her dress, “I requirecompleteprivacy.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Everyone to the servants’ quarters, now,” Alistair commanded, striding through the front door of his London house.
Tucked securely into his palm was Theo’s hand. He’d all but dragged her out of the carriage and up the walkway, uncaring if anyone saw his more brutal nature in the late night.
His butler appeared startled as he closed the door behind Alistair and Theo, but he quickly disappeared down the hall, no doubt hurrying to fulfill his master’s demand.
As Alistair reached the stairs, he swept Theo into his arms and over his shoulder, not patient enough to have her take the steps herself. The punishment he’d given her at the Masquerade had done to her precisely what he’d wished it to--but he had no idea that the act would turn on him.
He’d battled his sudden rage and jealousy when he’d seen Theo disobey his rules, kept the emotions on a leash as he drew out her punishment. But now he was going to let it all free--let it transform into something primal and fierce. He’d held himself back enough.
“Alistair!” Theo exclaimed, squirming in his grasp. “Do not--” Her words erupted into a yelp as he delivered another sharp slap to her backside.
“Quiet,” he growled, reaching the top of the stairs.
Her whimper of dissent was like music to his ears, and he felt a wicked pleasure as he felt her slump over his shoulder in submission. He carried like that until he reached his rooms, and even then, kept her there as he shut and bolted his door before taking her past his sitting room and into his bedchamber.
