Page 25 of What a Courtesan Wants
Lucinda sucked in a sharp breath through her nose as he parted her buttocks to reveal the tightly puckered ring of flesh between, then allowed a bit of the oil to trickle over the entrance.
“Have you ever taken a man here?” he asked, his tone conversational as he set the bottle aside, then pressed his finger against the taut hole.
She whimpered as he gained an inch, then another, lubrication easing his way. Then, she nodded, closed her eyes and gave a low, garbled moan.
“I’m certain it has been some time for you, so we’ll take our time with it,” he told her, slowly delving his finger in and out of her before adding another.
The gag muffled a cry as he stretched her, marveling at the heat and tight clench of her around his fingers while imagining this same sensation around his cock. He’d grown to full hardness now, but it didn’t hold quite as much urgency now he’d been temporarily sated in her mouth. Aubrey took his time and played with her, stroking deep in her arse while using his other hand to tease the swollen bud of her clit.
“You’ll take the smallest of my plugs first, and we’ll try a larger one each time. Then, when you’re ready, you’ll take my cock.”
Lucinda said something around her gag, but he could make no sense of it when she was in such a state. She writhed and bucked as he removed his fingers, then drizzled a bit more of the oil onto the plug before pressing it where his fingers had been. He watched with rapt fascination as she opened to accept it, the shining silver disappearing into the orifice save for the jutting of its base.
“Now, you must atone for what you’ve done,” he said, straightening and going back to his bag. “Only ten lashes this time, though I think you’ll find them harder to bear than before.”
He noticed her craning her neck to catch sight of what he might retrieve next, and couldn’t help a smile as she noticed the riding crop he held. He typically preferred to use his bare hands, but for what he had in mind the crop would do better. Besides, the weight of her punishment had to fit that of her crime, which called for more extreme measures than the crack of his palm to her arse.
Her legs quivered as she fought to keep her balance. Her feet scrabbled for purchase before she found her posture again, legs wide and feet arched to put her on tiptoe. Then, she laid her head down, seemingly resigned to what would come next.
He started slow, giving her buttocks a few light taps and warming her skin to a pink blush. Then, he angled the crop between her legs, flicking the shaft so that the leather tongue landed squarely against her cunt.
She yelped, her breaths coming out in noisy huffs as he repeated the notion. Pressing her face against the table, she grunted and groaned as he struck the delicate flesh again and again, the pink folds reddening and taking on a bright glisten with the evidence of her arousal. Her legs trembled, her knees giving out as he aimed one final blow against her clit—the hardest one of all. He pressed a hand against her back to hold her steady, and dropped the crop, delving two fingers into her cunt only to find her contracting around him in climax. The final strike of the crop had been all it took to bring her off, and now she moaned and thrashed as he fucked her with his fingers, her hoarse cries stifled by the gag. He could hardly punish her for not asking his permission to spend when he had gagged her, so he allowed her to revel in her reward after the torturous punishment.
When she’d gone still, he drew free of her sheath and reached for his cock. She let out a long, low sigh of relief as he surged into her without preamble, taking hold of her hips and propelling her back onto his prick. She clamped tight around him with added pressure from the lodging of the plug in her arse, making him feel as if he were being gripped in a vise.
Taking up a swift rhythm, he used one hand to push her down onto the table and keep her there, forcing her to surrender to his battering thrusts and stilling any movement. She could only lay there, each smack of his pelvis against her arse forcing a little sound of pleasure from deep in her throat. The table rocked beneath her, but he paid no heed to it, nor to the idea that someone might hear them. Surrounded by liquid heat and satiny flesh, he gave himself over to the moment, losing himself in her.
A powerful finish lingered in the distance, but it took far longer for him to reach it—pounding into her in a frenzied rhythm that made it difficult to breathe, one hand gripping and kneading her buttocks while the other held her arms pinned against her back and her belly pressed to the table. She splintered again, this time letting out a keening cry that penetrated the fabric of the gag. Aubrey followed close behind, falling against her with a final, powerful stroke.
He braced himself over her for a long moment, his softening cock still nestled deep inside her. His chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath, fatigue and satisfaction stealing the last of the tension from his muscles.
Aubrey straightened and pulled free of her, having only a moment to yank his sagging breeches back up his hips before taking her into his arms. She fell against him, seeming to have lost complete control of her limbs, her eyes closed and her expression one of pure serenity.
He’d dominated enough submissives to know how such encounters could affect them in the end. The euphoria, the exhaustion, the feeling of suspension in a single moment in time. She needed to be soothed through it, however long that would take. He gave no more thought to those awaiting him downstairs or the other duties of his day as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. His own needs—thirst, hunger, the desire for a few moments’ rest—all faded away as he saw to her needs.
Lucinda remained limp and unresponsive as he gently prodded her onto her side so he could ease the plug from inside her. Carrying it to the washstand, he took a moment to properly wash it, as well as his hands, before returning to her with a dampened bit of linen. He cleaned her, taking special care around the tender areas he’d punished with his crop.
Then, he climbed into the bed with Lucinda and gathered her close. To his surprise, she nestled even closer to him, her face rooting about in his chest like a babe seeking succor before she found the perfect place to rest. One arm flung about his waist and her legs intertwined with his, her breathing slowed within moments. When Aubrey peeked down at her face, he found she had fallen fast asleep.
Chapter 7
“Another week, another sighting of The Honourable Mr. S going about Town with a bruised face. Truly, the man has no couth at all. As if it isn’t enough that we all know what he gets up to in his spare time, we are forced to bear witness to his battered face as a result. To think, this man will someday take his place as a viscount of the realm…”
-The London Gossip,28 August 1819
“I’ve been wondering …”
Aubrey glanced up from the bathwater lapping at Lucinda’s breasts to meet her gaze, and she smiled before going on with her thought.
“The name above your shop door says Rowland-Drake. Who might Rowland be?”
He dipped his fingers into her bath and, finding that it had begun to cool, reached for the bucket of steaming water her maid had delivered a moment ago. Lucinda sighed and sank deeper into the copper tub as the water suffused with new heat, the fragrance of lavender oil wafting up from the steam.
They’d been forced to hastily part ways the day before after their explosive time together in the upper room of Aubrey’s shop. After she’d awakened in his arms, he had coaxed her from the bed and apologized for the necessity of hurrying her out the door. She’d understood that he had appearances to keep up and had quickly dressed and tried to put her hair back into some semblance of order before replacing her hat. He had secreted her down the back stairs and through an alley to the street, summoning a hackney to carry her home. She’d been sore between her legs and so deliciously satisfied, she had wanted nothing more than to urge him into the hack with her and to her townhouse where they might indulge without worry of being overheard. Now that she’d decided to think of Aubrey as a lover and a friend instead of just someone contractually obligated to please her with his cock, she found herself wanting his company. She felt they stood on firmer footing with new boundaries firmly established, and as such being near him didn’t seem quite as daunting as before.
Yet, the day had still been young, and she supposed he had any number of duties to attend. So, she had simply asked him to come to her the next night, promising to go to Benedict right away and inform him that they’d decided to resume their contract.
Now, here she was after a blissful hour in bed and another hour simply lying between the sheets and enjoying Aubrey’s warm, solid presence beside her. He had insisted on a bath for her after what had been a delightful but strenuous time spent being contorted and bound with ropes. Aubrey’s expertise as a master made itself apparent with each new encounter, and she’d thoroughly enjoyed being bound and fucked—simply allowing him to give and take while she sank unthinkingly into a haze of ecstasy. But, the bondage had left her sore, and she had welcomed the hot bath. He sat on a stool beside the tub wearing only his trousers and shirt, the sleeves rolled back to reveal his sinewy forearms.
