Page 11 of What a Courtesan Wants
Lucinda held her breath in anticipation, but it was a small cedar chest he withdrew instead of one of the tools, laying it on the bed before flipping a latch to open it. Her heart plummeted as she realized what lay inside—various methods for preventing disease and conception. She noticed a few clean and unused condoms, along with sea sponges and a vial of the liquid they were to be soaked in.
“I am not averse to pulling out at the last minute,” he offered, gesturing toward the chest. “But I am always prepared in the event a lady has another preferred method. I can assure you the sheaths aren’t necessary due to any … affliction on my part, but I’ll use them if you wish.”
Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she tried to chase away the memories his mention of conception brought forth. But, it was too late. In an instant, her mind was overwhelmed with recollections of blood and pain, her cries echoing down the corridors of Lanhope House as she lay abed feeling as if she were being torn apart from the inside out. Her eyes stung with tears as she heard Magnus’s voice in her mind, as clear as if he stood before her now.
It isn’t your fault, pet. These things happen … it is no one’s fault.
Shaking her head, she forced herself to meet Aubrey’s gaze. He peered at her with his brow furrowed, his stare probing and pensive.
“Lucinda?”
Clearing her throat, she forced a nonchalant expression. “There is no need to prevent conception. After eight years of marriage and two stillborn children I stopped conceiving altogether. I am barren.”
He flinched as if she’d struck him, his expression growing even grimmer. “I’m sorry, I—”
“There is nothing to apologize for,” she said with a forced laughed. “All it means is that you can do as you please without worry.”
Aubrey remained silent for another long moment, studying her as if waiting for more. She returned his stare with a raised eyebrow, silently urging him to move past the uncomfortable revelation. He seemed to understand, because he gave her a nod before closing the box and inserting it back into his bag. Lucinda couldn’t help a niggling of disappointment as he pushed the valise away without retrieving any of the implements hidden inside.
“On your knees,” he commanded suddenly, arms crossed over his chest.
A flare of heat rolled through her, settling in a deep pulse between her thighs in reaction to his command. Lucinda didn’t care for the way he was looking at her, nor the cool dispassion of his voice, even as the prospect of kneeling for him filled her with blistering need. She obeyed, but searched for some way to engage him, to prod him into touching her, punishing her.
Punishingher.
Her lips twitched as she realized there was one definite way to earn herself a punishment, and thereby coax Aubrey out of his aloofness. She’d seen a capacity for fiery passion in him, andthatwas what she wanted—not this man who acted as if he didn’t care one way or the other whether she followed his commands.
“Yes … Aubrey,” she murmured, holding his gaze while sinking to the floor.
His jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mixture of annoyance and arousal. His response to the small rebellion made her pulse flutter. The bulge at the front of his trousers grew, proving that while Aubrey was a master who required obedience, he was also one who liked a challenge.
“Did you forget my directive, or are you being purposely obstinate?” he snapped, the biting tone of those words lashing her in the way she wished his hand would her arse.
Lucinda inclined her head and pursed her lips at him. “Does it matter?”
Amusement lit in his eyes for a moment before they became shuttered again. Then, he was turning away from her, retrieving the chair pushed up to her vanity and dragging it to the center of the room.
Lucinda maintained the posture of a submissive, back erect, hands folded behind her back, legs curled under her. Only … she couldn’t manage to lower her eyes as she knew she should, especially since Aubrey chose that moment to begin disrobing. Nothing could have drawn her gaze away as he snatched at his cravat to reveal the thick column of his throat. Her mouth fell open when he shrugged out of his coat, revealing the bulge of powerful arms through his shirtsleeves. What she’d seen through the peephole was nothing compared to sitting so close and being overwhelmed by the impact of him. His waistcoat followed next, then those beautiful hands of his were working at his shirt buttons, pulling the tails free of his trousers, then yanking the garment off over his head.
An audible sound of longing escaped her at the sight of him, all rippling sinews beneath unblemished skin gleaming dark in the firelight, a sparse smattering of coarse hairs peppering his chest and running line from his navel into his trousers. The man was beautiful, even more so with the signs of arousal swelling his cock, hooding his eyes, and making his chest rise and fall faster than normal.
Sinking onto the chair, he motioned for her to come to him. “I hadn’t thought to begin this way, but I am a man of my word. Come, Lucinda.”
His directive sent another sharp arrow of desire through her, the part of her that longed for a firm hand and a commanding voice flaring back to life in an instant. She complied without hesitation, going to her hands and knees and crawling to him as if pulled by an invisible tether. It was his voice. It had the power to make a person act before they could think better of it.
When she reached him, he plucked her from the floor as effortlessly as he might a doll, arranging her over his lap. She grew dizzy, all the blood rushing straight to her head as he arranged her to his liking, tilting her hips up so her upper body hung down his legs. Bracing her hands on the floor, she did her best to keep her balance, relaxing her tensed back and buttocks knowing it would help her bear the punishment more easily.
The gentle stroke of Aubrey’s fingers up the back of one thigh made her shiver, and his voice was her only warning before he raised his palm and let it fall.
“Ten blows for not addressing me properly,” he murmured. “Then ten more for your impertinence.”
Lady Lucinda Boweryhad the most perfect arse Aubrey had ever seen. Her body itself was a work of art, reminding him of the nude figures of a Rubens painting. Lush with curves, soft and supple, she possessed long shapely legs, flaring hips, and large, sumptuous breasts tipped with wine-colored nipples. Upon removing her dressing gown, he’d nearly doubled over from the desire that slammed into him with blunt force. His instincts urged him to tie her hand and foot to the bed and spend hours teasing her until she begged him for release. She was perfect for bondage, her long body capable of a number of positions and contortions. The pucker of her nipples just begged for the clench of steel clamps. The thatch of blonde down between her legs invited him to bury his face in her cunt, seeking out her wetness and heat. And her arse … shaped like a ripe peach and upturned over his lap, it beckoned to his hand, the palm of which tingled with the urge he could no longer deny.
Having warned her of the blows to come, he gave in to the potent desire. She sucked in a sharp breath at the first slap, a slight sting simmering between his hand and the curve of her right cheek. The flesh quivered and flushed a tantalizing pink. He punished the other with equal force, then angled lower, finding the sensitive skin where the swell of one cheek met the back of her thigh. She yelped when he struck her on both sides with rapid succession, tensing for a moment before she took a slow, deep breath and relaxed. The woman obviously knew how to take a spanking. He offered her a soothing caress, his cock leaping as he squeezed one of the plush mounds. Resisting the urge to lower his head and sink his teeth into her, he continued in his punishment. He’d promised twenty blows, and he would deliver.
Aubrey increased the force with each smack, delivering them closer together as her arse began to heat, pink flushing to deep scarlet. She began to tremble, her hips undulating between blows as she sought pleasure along with the pain. He gave it to her, hissing through his teeth when he delved two fingers between her legs to find her sopping wet. She whimpered and clawed at the floor, raising her hips as he sank his fingers deep into her quim. His thumb found the hidden nub of her pleasure, forcing a sharp moan from her as he flicked the distended button with the edge of his fingernail. He repeated the motion, lightly teasing her nubbin while curling and twisting his fingers inside her. She pulsed and throbbed around him, the wet sounds of his surging thrusts ramping up his desire to near unbearable limits.
Knowing he still owed her four final blows, he found it difficult to stop now that he’d discovered the feel of her cunt, so hot, wet, and tight. His bollocks drew up close to his body as he imagined this same clenching grip around his cock, the satiny slide of her and the drench of her juices. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to compose himself, certain he would lose his hold on good sense. If there was one thing he was known for as a master, it was ironclad control and a strong will. If he threatened or promised something, he delivered, and nothing could derail him. Her arse glowed red from punishment, but he hadn’t finished yet. She would give him what he was owed before he took the rest.
