HER BODY, MARKED by his seed, was a beautiful sight. He had not wanted to punish her harshly, but she had left him little choice. She had told him a falsehood, and that was unacceptable.
“I learned my lesson, my lord.”
“Had we been at Château Follet, your punishment might have been far worse.”
After removing the magnets at her nipple and her folds below, he found linen and wiped his mettle from her body before pulling her upright. She winced when her weight came to rest upon her arse.
The sensation of thrusting himself into her—especially as she lay face down upon the table, her full and fleshly arse rounding the edge—had not yet left him. After a few minutes, he could have gone at her again. He wanted to see her spend, wanted her to achieve that carnal glory through him. But he resisted. She needed to learn her lesson in full, without question.
“Are we done, my lord?” she asked.
“For tonight.”
He tried to ignore her disappointment and attended to unbinding her wrists. He rubbed them after removing the rope.
"Did I disappoint you, my lord?"
"You endured your punishment well and have atoned for your misbehavior."
"I could have tolerated more."
He spared her a brief glance to see that she was in earnest, then resumed massaging her arms to encourage the circulation to return to the limbs. He did not doubt but that she could have performed well at Château Follet, but his aim was to discourage her, not encourage her. Perhaps he had not been harsh enough, but she had promised him that she would not return to the Château.
"May I have another chance to earn a reward?"
He undid the collar with the ball and wiped it with his handkerchief before replacing it to the sideboard. Picking up a vial of lotion, he returned to where she now stood beside the table.
"Bend over."
"Again?"
"Your position is not to ask but to obey."
"Forgive me, my lord."
She braced herself against the table. Her rump rounded nicely for him. He admired the crimson coloring and the streaks were the cane had landed. Grabbing a buttock, he rubbed it to encourage the flow of blood there in the hopes that it would ease the bruising. He did the same with the other cheek before applying the contents of the vial.
He felt the heat percolating anew as he wondered if he would ever take her in the arse.
"You did not answer my prior query, my lord," she said after he had finished attending to her derrière and stood her up.
"You always have the chance to earn a reward," he answered, handing over her garments. "But I shall require your best behavior for the whole of tomorrow."
"I will not fail this time, my lord."
"There will be no questioning of my directives and no talk of stocking frames."
"Yes, my lord. And I shall refrain from spending or pleasuring myself tonight."
"Succeed, and you shall have your chance to spend, and spend marvelously."
His voice had grown husky of its own accord. Standing less than two feet from her, he was tempted to take her into his arms and kiss her. The sparkle in her eyes, the anticipation in her countenance, caused feelings to swell in his bosom. But he stayed himself.
Instead, he cupped her chin and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. She was not the woman he had thought her to be upon first meeting her. He had found her polite and intelligent but also plain and uninteresting. Her initial timidity had waned surprisingly quickly, and thereafter she had adopted a nonchalance toward him that he found more acceptable than the receptions he more commonly received from others.
“Thank you, my lord.”
The simple words undid his resistance, and he lowered his head to sweep his lips over hers. His arm circled her waist, and he crushed her still naked body to his. He could feel his hardness reviving as his senses took in the scent of her arousal, the sound of her breaths, and the pressure of her lips and body. He could take her again, wanted to take her again, but he would be a poor dominant if he could not retain the discipline he required from her.
Letting her go, he stepped away before desire overcame him. He reached for his own nightclothes.
“I will see to the room,” he said after pulling his shirt overhead.
Still in a state of discompose, she took longer to dress. Her backside grazed the table’s edge as she bent to pick up the robe she had dropped.
“I think I shall want to stand all day tomorrow,” she remarked.
He did not regret the soreness that would plague her the following day. It would be a constant reminder of him, his expectations, and all that had transpired this evening.
“Good night, Millie.”
“Good night, Al—my lord.”
He would have allowed her the use of his name, and almost wished she had spoken it. After she had left, he sank into the armchair and shook his head.
He would be glad to leave two mornings hence. Millie was having more of an effect upon him than he wanted. Tomorrow evening would be their last. If she failed in her efforts to earn his approbation, he would administer a punishment she would never forget. If she succeeded, he would give her the greatest ecstasy his abilities could proffer.
Either way, he hoped, would end her ever considering Château Follet again. And then he would truly be done with his cousin once and for all.