William struck her again, hard enough to rock her forward, which was why he’d asked for her hands to be outstretched. He exhaled loudly, his urge to punish satisfied for now, but Matilda required more than pain. And he wanted to please her so badly.
Even though the punishment was over, Matilda remained still, ready for more across his legs. William admired her body, resting one hand possessively on her tender rump. “Sweet Matilda,” he whispered.
He slid his fingers between her legs. She was damp with arousal and sensitive enough that she squirmed against his fingers. He
stroked her clitoris lightly. “Does that feel nice?”
“Oh,” Matilda cried out and lifted her head. “Yes.”
He leaned over her. “What more can I do for you? Tell me.”
“More of the same,” she said, her voice tremulous.
“Ask for what you want.” He slapped her left cheek. “More punishment?”
“Yes,” she choked out
She bowed her head as he swirled his fingers over her clitoris again.
“More pleasure?”
“Yes.” She gasped as he slapped her right cheek. “Please.”
“Pleasure and pain require two hands,” he whispered.
“Yes, William.” She was silent a moment, then added, “Please touch me the way you did before.”
Success.
He employed his left to spank in an inconstant rhythm and his right to toy with her sex. Matilda relished the attention and soon was puffing and gasping out loud. She dangled over his lap but moved restlessly against his fingers in a way that had nothing to do with the beat of his hand against her skin and everything to do with heightened desire. He brought her to her peak swiftly and rejoiced in her strangled cries of ecstasy. When she quieted, he leaned back in his chair and buttoned his fall, wincing at the renewed confinement but satisfied as never before.
He brought her up to hold her in his arms on his lap. She hissed a little as her bottom pressed against his thigh, but the sound was music to his ears.
He set one hand lightly over her bottom and held her close against his chest with his other arm. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
He turned his lips to her brow, noting the high heat of her skin. In his previous encounters with other women, he’d never encountered such an honest response to his lovemaking. There had been no affection after, or so little he’d not remembered feeling so possessive. “For letting me take care of you like that.”
She turned her face into his shoulder and gripped his shirt tightly. Embarrassed, he thought, by the simple act of giving in to desire.
He should have held her after the first time he’d spanked her, and he cuddled her closer against him now so she would feel safe. He should have shown her how much the moment had meant to him instead of allowing her to run away to hide from what he’d started.
While she caught her breath, he unbuttoned her garments, let down her hair so he could run his fingers through the soft strands. When his erection had subsided enough to pass unnoticed, he stood, placed her gently to her feet, and let her outer garments fall to the floor. The strength of her body, the beauty of her curves, never failed to move him. Her body was his to touch now, to caress, to bring pleasure and pain to.
He was wealthy beyond words.
And happy.
He undressed her, then put her in a prim nightgown and lifted her up into his arms. He carried her to their bed and tucked her in. “Sweet dreams, Matilda.”
He took a pace back.
“Where are you going?”
To bring himself off with his own hand so he wouldn’t embarrass her with an intimacy she wasn’t ready for. “I have something to take care of in my study. Go to sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.”
Fifteen