Page 19 of A Duchess Bound (Dukes of Dominance #2)

“ B ehind your back .”

The Duke of Greenway smiled as if he were the devil himself. When she did not immediately comply, he gestured for her to turn around. Dorothy’s breath caught in her chest. She turned around and crossed her wrists behind her back.

He came to her and kissed the back of her neck. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and dark. “Look at you, taking your punishment so well.”

“Is…is being tied up the punishment?”

His Grace chuckled and tied the rope tightly around her wrists. Dorothy hissed between her teeth. Even through the fine silk of her gloves, she felt the roughness of the rope.

“Only a small part of it.”

Once her wrists were bound, he stepped away. She sensed him watching her, and heat curled inside her core. Dorothy knew that she ought to flee, but her feet were rooted to the spot. She tested the ropes, but she was far too tightly bound to escape them.

His Grace seized her upper arm and pulled her towards the cottage. She stumbled a little but quickly regained her footing. Dorothy followed him, obediently stepping inside the cottage when he opened the door.

“Onto the bed,” he ordered.

She awkwardly tumbled onto the mattress, rolling onto her back. Dorothy planted her heels into the bed and shifted backwards. Gerard watched her with an amused smile.

“Now, what?” she asked, her breath emerging in hot and uneven pants.

“I punish you.”

Dorothy shivered in anticipation of his touch. His Grace removed his coat, draping it over a nearby chair. The duke’s jacket followed. Dorothy inhaled deeply, trying and failing to calm her racing heart.

His Grace must have been aware of the effect he had on her, but he feigned nonchalance. Dorothy’s mouth went dry as she beheld the sight of him in his shirtsleeves. His eyes remained fixed on her face as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms.

“Oh,” Dorothy gasped. “Your Grace…”

He smirked. “I see that you are not immune to my charms,” the duke said, “despite your insistence that you hate me.”

“Maybe I hate how much my body wants you,” she said.

“Lift your hips.”

She did, and he took hold of her skirts, pulling them up slowly. Dorothy shivered from the intensity of his gaze as he gazed at her bare thighs and that quivering place between her legs. “You have experienced release before,” he said lowly. “At my hands. Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes,” she rasped.

His Grace left the skirts all gathered at her waist. Dorothy was exposed from her waist down. Her own bound wrists pressed into the small of her back, heightening her arousal. The duke forced her thighs apart, and Dorothy shifted a little, letting her feet rest at the edge of the bed.

“Then, I intend on denying you such pleasures for a very long time,” he said. “That seems a fitting punishment.”

“Denying me?” she asked, her thighs trembling already. “I am not certain that I can bear being denied, Your Grace.”

He chuckled and squeezed her thighs. A ragged moan tore from her throat.

“We shall find out,” the duke said, trailing his knuckles over the inside of her thighs. “If you take your punishment with grace, I might let you experience a little pleasure.”

Dorothy forced down the lump that rose in her throat. “Very well, Your Grace.”

He knelt before the bed. All she could see was his hair and the outline of his shoulders. Dorothy braced herself, remembering the sensations that had coursed through her when he had licked her down there.

His Grace did not touch her there, however. Instead, the duke gently removed her slippers. She swallowed hard as he caressed her calves. His Grace undid her garters and cast them aside. He took her right leg and gently peeled her stocking down, baring her to him.

Dorothy arched her back and groaned. “You cannot do this,” she said throatily.

“I have only just begun, my lady,” he said darkly. “By the time I am finished, you will beg me for pleasure.”

She tossed her head back. Already, her body burned with need. Did he truly intend to deprive her of pleasure? Dorothy felt as though she would die if he kept touching and denying her. He kissed her calf, and a low whimper escaped her throat.

His Grace slowly trailed kisses up her right thigh.

Each kiss was soft and warm, just barely there.

Dorothy’s core pulsed with need, and she shifted on the bed, desperate for him to touch her in the place where she wanted him to most. He chuckled, the sound low and reverberating inside his chest. “Struggle all you like. You will have no pleasure until I allow it,” he warned.

She groaned. “You are unkind!”

“Unkind? I am disciplining you for not following my very reasonable requests.”

She lifted her head and met his gaze. With a sly grin, he kissed her hip. Blood roared in Dorothy’s ears. “Please, Your Grace.”

He moved his finger lazily to her core. “Here?”

“Yes!” she gasped. “Yes!”

His Grace pressed against her pearl, and Dorothy writhed against him. Pleasure curled inside her, and she moaned raggedly. He brought his finger down, caressing her sex. Her breath quickened.

She was suddenly too aware of the wetness gathering beneath his finger.

He pressed his thumb against her entrance, and dull pain began to build.

Dorothy whimpered, her inner walls clenching around his finger.

The duke withdrew his thumb and pushed it in again, pumping inside her.

Dorothy found the rhythm quickly and pressed back against him, meeting his every thrust with a jolt of her hips.

Dorothy’s body trembled, her muscles tightening.

She strained against her bindings, her fingers digging into the fine fabric of his bed linens.

A ragged groan tore from her throat. Her muscles all clenched tightly, as desire curled deep inside her body.

The desire twisted tighter and tighter until she could bear it no longer.

A whimper escaped her as she approached her crisis, and?—

His Grace removed his hand. Dorothy’s inner walls clenched, her hips jolted, and she cried out. She was nearly mad with need, and he had withdrawn his hand.

“Do you want me to keep touching you?” he asked.

“Please,” she said. “Yes, please.”

He dipped his hand between her legs, caressing the inside of her thigh. Dorothy tossed her head back, shaking as his fingers slowly, teasingly, approached her core.

His Grace cupped her sex, his thumb pressing against her pearl. She groaned raggedly. The tightness returned. Everything was so hot and stifling, her body aching and longing for his touch. A lump rose in her throat, and she gasped raggedly. Dorothy was shaking for want of relief.

He touched her again, his fingers sweeping between her folds.

As he stroked her, Dorothy’s breath quickened once again.

He pressed his finger inside her, and Dorothy’s muscles instinctively clenched.

Gerard slowly put another finger inside her, and Dorothy shook.

She bucked against him, tears springing to her eyes from the intensity of his touch.

“Good girl,” he purred. “You are so ready for me.”

Dorothy pushed against his hand, urging him deeper inside her. Without conscious thought, her body moved, desperate to achieve her release. She was nearly at the summit, and her muscles clenched hard.

Almost .

He withdrew his hand again, and she wailed. Dorothy shifted, trying to free her hands, desperate to touch herself and relieve the aching need between her thighs.

“I told you that I would punish you,” His Grace said, smirking.

“ Please !” she exclaimed.

Dorothy tried to use the bed linens against her sex to bring herself to that familiar state of bliss, but they were not enough. She sat shakily upright, spreading her thighs. Dorothy moved wildly, dampening the bed linens with the proof of her arousal.

The duke once more reached between her legs.

His other hand held her hip, keeping her in place.

Without warning, he shoved his thumb into her.

Dorothy tossed her head back. She pressed her head into his shoulder as he worked her again.

Sweat dripped down her back, sticking her chemise to her body. Dorothy strained against the ropes.

She wanted to touch him. She wanted to touch herself.

A little cry of frustration tore from her, as His Grace halted his ministrations once again.

She sobbed against his wool coat. Her body was so sensitive and warm.

Even without his touch, her inner walls twitched wildly.

Dorothy had never imagined that she could want something so badly.

“Oh, look at you,” His Grace murmured, his breath hot against her cheek. “Writhing and crying against me. What a wanton little thing you are!”

Dorothy was too lost in the heat of the moment to be offended by such vulgar words. If anything, they only seemed to heighten her desire. Her body shuddered. She lifted her head from his shoulder and met his gaze. Although his expression was soft, there was a mocking gleam in his eyes.

“My poor lady,” he murmured. “Shall I take pity on you? Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes. Yes, please! I have learned. I promise I have!” The words fell from her mouth without conscious thought.

Dorothy felt as though she was not even in her body, as if her entire world was consumed only by her body’s wants—no, its needs .

“Please, give me release. I can bear it no longer, Your Grace.”

“Lay back down.”

She lay back, her bound hands pressing against the small of her back. A tear fell down the side of her face. Her breath came hot and fast, her chest heaving. His Grace stared at her, and Dorothy shivered. The hunger in his eyes threatened to rob her lungs of air.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Perhaps, you have learned your lesson.”

“I have! I promise I have!”