Punishing His Ward (Domestic Discipline 3) - Page 48

Holding her breath, she grasped the handle of his door and turned the knob slowly, to make as little noise as possible. Easing the door open just enough to allow her to slip in sideways, she paused as soon as she got inside the door, waiting for some kind of reaction. Waiting for the axe to fall.

Nothing.

Grinning in triumph, she very carefully closed the door. Moonlight trickled into the room and she gave her eyes a moment to adjust and take in what she could see. After all, she'd never seen the Earl's room before. Never seen a man's bedchamber at all for that matter.

The moonlight made everything look dark, but she could see that he used much heavier furniture than she did. Big, intimidating furniture and a large heavy rug that look up most of the floor space. Despite the large size of the room, the bed in the center dominated it. A large four poster bed, the bed curtains were tied to the posts and she could clearly see the lump in the center of the bed that must be the Earl. Since everything was dark she couldn’t see the colors, but she assumed they would be just as masculine as the furniture. The scent unique to him filled the air, as if his presence saturated every ounce of space he lived in.

There was only one small table between her and the bed, so she skirted to the side of it, tip-toeing as quickly as she could. Her breath was coming fast and it seemed so very loud in her ears, but the shape on the bed didn't stir. The silk wrapper she was wearing slithered around her legs, brushing against her breasts as they heaved in excitement. She was sure that at any moment he would suddenly leap up from the bed, shouting at her, but he didn’t. When she finally reached the side of the bed, she paused to fully appreciate the view.

The Earl was laying on his back, gloriously nude. One arm thrown over his eyes, the other sprawled across the width of the bed. His blankets only partially covered him, one leg and hip and - of course - the area that she was most interested in. But she could still see his muscled chest, the dark hair that was sprinkled across it and in a line down his stomach; his thighs were just as impressively muscled as his chest and she had to stop herself from reaching out and trying to touch him immediately. He was the most intensely masculine man she'd ever met, and even more so out of his clothes. The last time she'd seen a shirtless man it had been entirely on accident and not nearly this interesting.

She wondered if he always slept nude and what that might feel like. Perhaps she should try it sometime. He certainly looked comfortable.

Tugging on her sash, she pulled open the knot and let her wrapper drop to the ground. As tempting as it was to just sit and look at him, and not risk more, that wasn't what she'd come here for. Cynthia was determined to be quite thoroughly ruined before her wedding, no matter what the Earl had said. Or at least a bit more rumpled that her present state.

Patience was not a virtue, it was a sign of passivity. Cynthia preferred action.

Crawling onto the bed, on the side where his arm was flung outward, she pushed the sheets off of his body. The moonlight was just enough to allow her to see his rod, not quite as big as she'd imagined it; it was long and thick and laying against his body rather like a big, fat worm. Was this was seemed so fearsome when it was in men's breeches?

Reaching out with gentle fingers, she touched it - it was soft! And kind of squishy... she ran her fingers down the length and almost shrieked when it moved. It straightened, sort of, turning to point up towards the Earl's belly and it began to get longer and thicker under her fingertips. She watched, fascinated as it began to grow quite large indeed. Now it looked – well still not quite what she’d imagined, but at least it was more the size she’d imagined.

And this was supposed to fit inside her mouth? And her quim? She looked at it doubtfully; it was much larger than her fingers. Perhaps that would feel good, all the rakes had told her it would, but the proposition seemed a bit more intimidating now than it had before.

Putting more pressure on the turgid length, she felt it pulse and harden. The exterior was still soft, his skin there quite silky, but with a core of steel. At the base there was a wrinkled sack which hung between his legs, but that wasn't nearly as interesting as looking at and touching her first naked cock. Scooting a little closer, Cynthia's tongue flicked out and ran along the crown, which bulged at the end of his rigid staff.

The Earl moaned and she froze, but he didn't move. Wrapping her fingers around the thick staff of flesh, she drew it slightly upward so that it was pointing more towards the ceiling. She wanted to put her mouth on it. If she could fit it in her mouth then perhaps it wouldn’t be so intimidating to put it other places.

It tasted of musk and salt and flesh as she wrapped her lips around the fat mushroom tip, laving it with her tongue. The texture of his skin there was almost pebbled. This time when he moaned, she ignored it, too caught up in her own activities. Something sweet and a little salty dribbled onto her tongue and she immediately went questing for more, exploring the wet little slit with her own tip. It was slick inside, the same way she became slick, and it tasted interesting.

A sudden growling noise filled her ears as a rough hand grasped her hair and yanked her away. Shivering, she gasped and let go of his rod to reach for the hand that was pulling on her hair.

She found herself face to face with an irate and rather confused looking Earl. "Cynthia?"

"Good evening," she said, smiling and batting her eyes. With all the instincts of a true flirt, she twisted her body slightly so that if the Earl hadn't noticed she was naked already, his eyes were drawn to her bare breasts now. For a moment he was successfully distracted and she had the thrill of watching his eyes rove over her, his expression arrested. Her nipples hardened, her already slick quim gr

ew even wetter with excitement, sure that he was about to touch her. Ruin her.

And then he scowled again.

"What are you doing in here?" he roared. The erect staff of his penis didn’t detract at all from his intimidating stance of outraged male.

"Shhh," she scolded, her heart pounding, but she refused to show how much he'd startled her. He was quite frightening sometimes, but it's not as if she could scurry away anyway; his fingers were all tangled up in her hair. And though she had a hold on his wrists, she didn’t fool herself into thinking that he would release her before he was ready. Still, it was quite exciting being held like this by him. "You'll wake the household."

The Earl's dark eyes narrowed, looking even more foreboding in the shadows created by the moonlight.

"You are going back to your bed. Right now." Releasing her hair, he pushed her in front of him, sliding them both off the bed and immediately saw her wrapper on the ground. Unabashed by his own nakedness, he picked it up and thrust it at her.

Cynthia had let him push her out of the bed, more because she hadn't been expecting it and he was much stronger than her, but she wasn't about to allow him to summarily dismiss her. She folded her arms under her bosom and smirked when his eyes immediately fell on the slightly lifted mounds of flesh. No matter what he said, his cock was still thick and hard, the way they got when men were aroused. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, he wanted her.

"No."

"Cynthia, you will leave my chambers now or you will be punished."

She bet that devastating, threatening tone of voice worked quite well on most people. In fact, she had to stiffen her knees against doing exactly what he ordered. Tilting her chin up, she glared right back at him.

"I don't want to be punished, I want to be ruined. What's the point of being engaged if you're not going to touch me? I've been fending off men from touching me anywhere beneath my clothes for years now and now I'm standing, naked, in front of you and all you'll do is look at me! Is this what our marriage is going to be like?"

"It better not be," he muttered, looking at her balefully and Cynthia huffed. She knew he meant her actions and not his lack of them, and she was getting angrier by the minute.

Tags: Golden Angel Domestic Discipline Historical
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