Page 34 of Desire and Discipline
“Very. There are plenty of rooms open. Come and flog me for impertinence, my lady.” Again, that little emphasis on ‘my lady,’ and this time, it felt like mockery.
He must be mocking her, and Diana did not appreciate it. Fine. If this was the game he wanted to play, she would call his bluff and take it as far as he allowed.
Oliver
She’s too young for me.
The idea that she might be too innocent had been thoroughly eradicated upon discovering her at a Society of Sin event. Innocents did not know such secret gatherings existed, much less attend them. From the way she comported herself, it was clear she was no stranger to the perversions practiced by the members.
Otherwise, she would not have threatened to flog him.
His back tingled in anticipation. It had been years since the last time he’d felt the kiss of the leather, since he’d allowed himself such an indulgence. And she knew the terms. She knew what a flogger was. How skilled she would be at it… he didn’t care.
Once she’d made the threat, he had to know.
He’d approached her with no real plan, which was hardly like him, but he did not object to the way the interaction had gone. He’d wanted to know what she was doing here, how much she knew, and… well, he’d wanted to get her away from those fawning puppies.
The complicated mix of envy and jealousy he’d felt upon seeing them, hearing their offers, had nearly bowled him over. Envy that they had her attention. Jealous she might choose one of them. The amount of possessiveness that had struck him was an emotion that had not struck him since before his late wife passed.
He’d wanted her attention.
He’d wantedher.
And now he had both.
Miss Rutherford—Diana—strode confidently into one of the rooms with an open door. He might have led her into the hallway, but once she’d taken the lead, she’d done so with alacrity. Oliver was happy to follow along. A large wooden frame in the shape of an X was set up in the middle of the room, currently unoccupied. Beside it was a table covered in various shapes and lengths of leather.
Ignoring him, she walked up to the table and looked it over, her head turning back and forth as she examined the options. It gave him an excuse to stand and study her, watching her inspection, seeing the way her gaze lingered longer over some implements while immediately dismissing others. She had a fondness for the whip, it seemed, and no interest in the paddles. She merely glanced at the crop.
Oliver’s cock stirred as he watched her, a woman in her element, deciding what she was going to whip him with. It didn’t matter that she was still too young; his attention and his body were both engaged. He wanted her. He wanted this. He hoped she was not a novice, though the more he watched her reactions, the more he felt she had experience he would have never guessed at.
Finally, she picked up a long leather flogger. The falls were about an inch wide and two feet long, the handle thin enough she was just able to get her fingers all the way around it. Hefting it in her palm, she turned to look at him.
Even in the dim candlelight, he could see her dark eyes flash. The mask made her expression harder to read, but he thought she was surprised to find him still standing there, waiting for her. Her chin lifted in a kind of challenge.
“Strip to your waist.” Her cool, clear command was delivered in the same tone she’d often used to get him to pay attention when she was tending to his wound.
Perhaps he should have realized she had some tendencies before now, but he honestly had not considered it.
“I could just strip,” he offered as he shrugged out of his coat, taking several steps to his left to place it over the back of a chair. She’d accused him of being a bad patient, which he was, but he was even worse when it came to following orders in the bedroom. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but he enjoyed the battle of wills… and he especially enjoyed losing. “No need to stop at the waist.”
“The waist will be quite enough.” Her gaze dropped as he began to unbutton his waistcoat, his hands moving down the middle of his front, drawing her attention to the prodigious bulge that had formed at the front of his breeches. Her eyes widened, breasts rising and falling as she sucked in a breath.
Oliver was very aware of a couple wandering into the room, moving to the side to watch what was happening. He wondered how Diana would react. He was not sure she remembered she’d left the door open. It was entirely possible she had forgotten and would request privacy. Since she was worried about discretion.
To his surprise, she glanced at them, then looked at him as if assessinghisreaction. Oh my… did she think he was bluffing when he’d invited her to flog him? It would not be entirely surprising. Though he’d gone back and forth with Marianne about who was in control when she was alive, most people, upon meeting him, assumed he would rather lead.
However, he’d had to take the lead every day of his life. Not just when he’d been growing up, learning how to be a marquess, but after he’d become a spy and risen quickly through the ranks until he was the spymaster to the Crown. He’d literally held life and death in his hands every day, and sometimes, he’d wanted nothing more than to have someone else wrest control from him and let him float. Marianne had done it for him, though it had not come naturally to her—not the way it clearly did to Diana.
A smile curved his lips.
He was very much looking forward to her reaction when she realized how much he was enjoying himself. Though it would be dependent on her skill—the intent way she’d examined the implements and how easy the flogger seemed in her hand, he was fairly certain she knew exactly what she was doing.
Tossing his waistcoat on the chair, he jerked his shirt over his head. Of course, she’d seen him shirtless more than once—he’d been shot in the torso, and she’d been caring for him as his nurse since almost the beginning—but this was the first time she was looking at his body with anything other than clinical precision. Her gaze swept over him as though she was seeing him for the first time.
Oliver puffed out his chest. He might be too old for her, but he knew he was still in fine form, even compared with a man half his age. If she wanted to look, he was happy to pose for her viewing pleasure.
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