Page 54 of Desire and Discipline
All he could do was show her that he trusted her, court her, and hope that she came to the same conclusion.
That they could be happy together. That they belonged together.
That she should be his wife.
Leaning back against the post thrust his lower body—and his erection—forward slightly. Reaching up to hold on to it left his upper body open and vulnerable to whatever she wanted to do to him. Stepping forward, the crop swung upward, making him flinch, even though she slowed the movement as the tip actually reached him.
The leather stroked against his skin rather than stinging, but it took a moment for him to realize that it did not hurt. Despite the way his balls wanted to shrivel, his cock was harder than ever, pulsing its need to be inside her. To pleasure her. To give her whatever she wanted.
Unfortunately for his cock, what she wanted right now was to torture him.
The leather slid against his skin, lifting his balls. He sucked in a breath, holding it until the crop moved away—upward to stroke against his cock. The appendage quivered with glee at finally receiving attention.
The crop lifted and smacked against the side of it, making him groan, caught between pleasure and pain. The sting was sharp, yet it felt good against his tightly stretched skin. His dick was happy for whatever stimulation it could get right now but confused as to whether it was being punished or pleasured.
She flicked her wrist, and the crop smacked against his shaft on the other side.
Oliver groaned again, going up on his toes as the pain slightly overrode the pleasure. The movement made it look as though he was thrusting his hips forward, asking for more.
“Bloody hell, my lady. If you beat my cock, how am I supposed to satisfy you with it?” His question was answered with a chuckle as the leather flap on the crop swept up his length and tapped against the sensitive tip. Oliver sucked in a breath, waiting on pins and needles to find out if she was going to use more force on that tender part.
“You still look perfectly capable to me,” she retorted teasingly, running the leather over the head of his dick. The slick fluid leaking from the tip was spread over his sensitive mushroom, making him shudder, his eyes half-closing as pleasure surged, overriding any lingering sting.
Then, it disappeared before snapping against the tip again.
Bloody hell!
He panted through the pain, which was somewhat soothed by the hand suddenly wrapped around his shaft as Diana pressed up against him. As soon as he had enough control over himself, still holding onto the post, he glared down at her as her breasts brushed against him. The thin fabric of her chemise was not enough to hide the hardness of her nipples as they rubbed against his chest.
“Was that really necessary?” he asked grumpily.
Her hand tightened around his shaft almost painfully, her thumb sweeping over the sensitive head she’d just abused.
“Was trying to trap me into marriage really necessary?” she countered.
“You were about to run. I would say yes.”
She laughed softly, going up on her tiptoes to brush her lips over his.
“Then so was this.” She smiled at him serenely, completely unperturbed, as his glare grew harder. “I’m not running now.”
His heart pounded in his chest. Was she saying what he thought she was?
Her hand moved, stroking him, as if to emphasize the fact she was not running. Retreat was clearly the last thing on her mind.
“My Lady.” This was not the right moment, was it? On the other hand, it seemed as though she was encouraging him. It was surely an improvement upon not asking her at all. “Will you marry me?”
For a moment, she did not answer, though she continued smiling at him, her hand still moving on his cock, leaving him hanging from the post on her whim.
Sadistic woman.
“Yes.”
He was so caught up in thinking she was not going to answer, distracted by the sensation of her hand moving along his length, it took him a moment to register what she’d actually said.
“Yes?” Part of him could not believe he’d heard correctly.
She laughed, giving his cock another hard stroke, as if that was going to do anything but discombobulate him further.
