A VIBRANT FIRE greeted her as she entered the chambers at the appointed hour. Alastair, in his nightshirt and banyan, stood with his arms crossed before him. Without forethought, she knelt at his feet.
“Forgive me, my lord.”
“I accepted your apology already, Millie,” he said.
“That was for speaking before your family. I now ask your pardon for having defied your wishes.”
“You will atone for that tonight. And I had thought you intended to earn a reward.”
“I did have such intentions. But…I should have waited to voice my opinions to you in private.”
“Then you do not regret what you said? Only that it was said in company?”
She kept her gaze lowered. “My thoughts on the topic have not changed, my lord, and needed to be voiced.”
“Then why ask my pardon now?” He sounded slightly baffled.
“Because I had not wanted to disappoint you. In hindsight, I should not have agreed to a command I could not follow. When you were so dismissive of your duties—well, I will take what punishment you intend, my lord. May I suck your cock for you, my lord?”
He threaded his hand in her hair and yanked her head back so that she could meet his gaze. “You will beg for cock soon enough, my girl, but you will have it only upon completion of your punishment.”
“Yes, my lord.”
He released her. “Show me your arse.”
She bent over and pulled her robe and gown up to her waist. He palmed a cheek. She tingled beneath his touch.
“There is barely any bruising,” he noted. “It can take more abuse tonight.”
“Yes, my lord. I hope you will spank me well.”
He grunted. “On your feet.”
She rose from the floor and stood at attention.
“Remove the robe,” he said.
When she had slid out of the garment, he stood behind her, close enough to make her every nerve come to life. “I take it you did not bring yourself to spend last night?”
“I did not, my lord.”
Reaching an arm around her, he cupped a breast through her shift. “Was it difficult to obey my orders in this?”
She let out a haggard sigh. “Yes, my lord.”
“Did you touch yourself?”
“I dared not, as doing so had led to my failure my first night.”
He rolled the orb against her chest as he hardened and released his grip. “How did you refrain? How did you relieve the agitation?”
“I pressed my legs together.”
“You were very wet between the legs last night.”
She gasped when he pinched her nipple through her shift. “I paced the room for a while. Then, I was wearied enough to fall asleep.”
“And how was your arse when you woke this morning?”
“Sore.”
“Did you enjoy being in such a state?”
“Yes, my lord.”
He pulled her shift down one shoulder and kneaded the exposed breast. He pulled her into him. “Your body will want to spend desperately tonight.”
She moaned at the thought, relishing the hardness of his body at her back.
“Do you deserve to spend?” he asked, his other arm snaking around her hip to clasp her mound.
“No, my lord.”
He rubbed her between the thighs. It did not take long for the wetness to begin. Feeling his cock harden behind her, she wanted her body to meld with his, for the hand at her breast to become a permanent part of her. But she should forebear the rising warmth in her. He would only leave her bereft. She braced herself against his delectable fondling.
“You will want your arousal,” he advised, “to survive your punishment.”
In truth, she could not resist his ministrations. They felt far too divine. The man could arouse her at any time, in any place. He had only to speak to ignite the heat inside of her.
The fabric he rubbed into her folds, though damp now, created a pleasurable friction. He lightly pinched her nipple before moving his hand to her throat. Her head fell back to his chest as the rest of her writhed against him. She panted and slipped further into the pool of desire.
But as she expected, he eventually withdrew, leaving her bereft. He went to the sideboard and returned with the ball and collar.
“We will need to quiet your cries,” he explained.
“But how will I speak the word ‘pearls,’ my lord?’”
“You did not question it last night.”
“I expect the punishment tonight will be worse.”
“And it will be.”
She studied his face. How vexed was he at her?
“I will give you the choice, but be aware that your screams may be heard.”
“I will take the collar, my lord.”
He affixed the implement about her head, then pulled from the pocket of his banyan his neckcloth, which he wrapped over her nose and mouth. “This should sufficiently muffle your cries.”
Her heart hammered, and it would have been difficult to swallow, even absent the ball stretching her mouth. She did not like the linen as her breaths felt warm and stifled.
He stood two feet from the wooden table. “Approach.”
She went to him. He turned her to face the table, then pulled the rest of her shift down. She ought to be accustomed to standing naked before him, but still an uncomfortable awareness filled her.
“Reach for the table.”
She bent over and braced her arms against the table’s edge. She was bent nearly in half at the waist, her breasts dangling beneath her. He walked over to the wall before returning to stand behind her.
She gave a small shriek before falling into giggles as feathers brushed her derrière, but it was not easy to laugh with the ball stuffed in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she tried not to heed the tickling. Thankfully, it did not last too long.
Her next shriek was altogether different as a wooden paddle collided with her backside. She lost her grasp against the table and stumbled.
“Resume your position, Miss Abbott.”
Her mind whirled, wondering how many of these blows she could endure, but she braced herself against the table once more. He pulled her a step farther so that her rump rounded more fully for him.
Smack!
Inadvertently, she bit into the ball. Now her teeth hurt. The third blow made her knees buckle. He waited till she righted herself before delivering the fourth whack. Tears pressed against the back of her eyes, and her saliva began to seep from between her lips and the ball. He waited for the full effect of the sting to dissipate before swinging the paddle to her rump again. She gave a sob and thought of her safety word, but she would not have wanted to use it. She wanted to endure the punishment. Having failed him before, she did not want to do so again.
But by the tenth blow, she would gladly have parted with her arse forever. Her arms shook, and the tears in her eyes had spilled. The feathers returned, stoking the stinging to new life. The linen wrapped about her had become suffocating. She told herself that she deserved this punishment, but a part of her questioned this premise. She had been forward with him; it was not her place to comment on how he handled affairs of Parliament. But, in truth, his disposition merited comment. She reminded herself that she ought not have spoken so in front of his family. This surely deserved a sound punishment, but she hoped he was done with the paddling. Even if she wanted to, she doubted that she could endure much more.
With immense relief, she saw him return the paddle to where it had hung upon the wall. He came back with a long cord of rope. Reaching beneath her, he wrapped the rope around one breast, crossed it to the other, did the same, and crossed it back before securing the end of the rope. The bindings formed a vise about her orbs, squeezing and misshaping them.
“You may stand, Millie.”
She did as told, brushing away the tears so that he would not see them. He stood before her and looked deep into her eyes.
“You did well, Millie. Now we may commence with the second part of your punishment.”