Page 38 of A Duchess Bound (Dukes of Dominance #2)
“ I thought we would never be free,” Dorothy said, as Gerard carried her into his bedchamber.
The wedding ceremony had been lovely and intimate, and Dorothy had enjoyed the festivities afterwards—the wedding cake, the dancing, and the dinner—but at some point, she had begun to feel as if the whole wedding and all its trappings were taking far too long.
Her thoughts had become decidedly indecent, and she had squeezed her thighs tightly together during the carriage ride home— home !
Gerard’s home was now hers, too! She could scarcely believe it.
“I know,” Gerard said as he carried her to the bed. “I was beginning to fear that your brother might never let me leave. I do not understand that man. First, he threatened me. Then, he seemed to believe that we were the best of friends?”
“Of course he was like that. You fulfilled your promise and became a part of our family,” Dorothy said. “Once you were related, he felt the need to be civil.”
He deposited her gently on her feet before the bed.
Dorothy had stood scarcely a heartbeat before he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him.
A delighted gasp tore from her throat, silenced as his mouth hungrily found hers.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him in return, pressing her mouth hard against his.
They kissed like they had been deprived of one another for an eternity, and when Dorothy thought about just how close they had come to being apart forever, she kissed him with double the passion. Every inhale brought the familiar scent of his cologne and of her own growing arousal.
It was the wedding night, and now, she knew why young women looked forward to this with their husbands. Gerard tilted his head and kissed her jaw. “I must ask you something,” he breathed. “It is important that you are honest with me.”
Dorothy tilted her head back, enjoying the warmth of his lips against her neck. She wondered if he could feel how quickly her pulse beat beneath her skin. “Yes?”
“Did you marry me simply to spare your sister?”
She frowned. “What?”
Gerard leaned back, his hands still at her waist. “It occurred to me that you might have noticed how distraught Lady Bridget was that I was to marry her, and I wondered if you might have only agreed to marry me to spare her from a life with a man whom she did not love.”
“Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, is that what you thought? Gerard, no. It is true that I did not wish for Bridget to marry someone that she did not love, but more importantly, I wanted to marry you! That night in the gardens, I kept thinking about how we were all so miserable doing what we thought was the right thing. If letting Bridget marry you was the right course of action, I did not want to do it. I wanted you.”
He pulled her in for another kiss, and she pushed her body against his. They fit together as though their bodies had been destined for one another, and a low moan escaped her. Did Gerard also sense how perfect they were for one another? Did he understand what even his slightest touch did to her?
“I only wanted to make you happy,” he whispered against her lips. “I thought if I spared Lady Bridget?—”
“Do not talk about my sister while you are doing this.”
Gerard dipped his head and placed a lingering kiss on her throat. Dorothy curled her fingers in his hair and moaned.
“I wanted to marry you,” he said. “I just worried that I was unworthy?—”
Another kiss. This time, his lips pressed against her collarbone.
“—but you said that it ought to be your choice. How could I deny you?”
His hands cupped her breasts, deftly freeing them from her bodice.
Gerard pinched her nipples, and Dorothy’s breath hitched.
Excitement shot through her, for she had been thinking of this night for most of the day.
“I love you,” she said. “I have loved you for such a long time, and I forgive you for pushing me away. I chose you. Thank you for letting me.”
When he rolled her nipples between his fingers, a sharp ache formed in Dorothy’s core. Her back arched. Gerard’s manhood pressed against her stomach.
“We shall have to make an heir,” she said.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, that is what happens when you become a man’s wife.”
“I would not relinquish that duty to anyone,” Dorothy said. “You have made me the happiest woman in the world. It would have been torture, watching you with Bridget.”
“It would have been torture watching you with no one at all.”
He rolled her nipples between his fingers, and Dorothy shamelessly bucked her hips against his thighs. She brought her hand down and heaved up great handfuls of her skirts.
“Eager, hm?” he asked.
“I want to fulfill my duty as your duchess,” she replied, smirking.
“I wonder if I should let you,” he mused, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You promised to submit, and you deceived me today.”
“Are you going to punish me?”
“I think I must.”
He coaxed her back onto the bed, and she shifted her way up. Dorothy kept her skirts hitched up past her waist and spread her thighs wide, exposing her aching sex to him. The evidence of her attraction wet her folds, and the heat of his eyes on her nearly undid her.
“Now, what shall I do with this?” he murmured.
Gerard crawled onto the bed and knelt between her legs. He gently stroked between her folds, and Dorothy’s back arched. She whined as her muscles all coiled tightly inside her.
“You must show a little mercy,” she said. “It is my wedding night.”
He grinned. “My poor bride, you forget that it is also my wedding night. What if I do not want to show you mercy? Only one of us has promised to obey, if you recall.”
Dorothy’s chest heaved, her nipples rising like two tiny rosebuds from above the confines of her bodice. “That is true.”
“Perhaps, I should show you something that I have not before,” he said, undoing his cravat. Dorothy’s eyes snapped to the tantalizing sight of his throat. “Give me your wrists.”
She offered them without hesitation, and he tied them together, taking a moment to ensure that her bonds were not too tightly done. “You have done this before.”
“I am not yet finished. I must fetch something. Remain where you are and keep your hands above your head.”
She obeyed, following him with her eyes until he left the room.
Dorothy strained to hear his movements, her pulse jumping in his absence.
She shifted her hips, trying vainly to soothe the ache between her legs.
If she lowered her arms and touched herself, Dorothy could give herself some pleasure, but Gerard had told her to keep her arms above her head.
She could disobey. That was a delightful thought.
Dorothy breathed deeply, weighing the option of disobeying him. She had promised to obey, and that mattered. Besides, if she disobeyed him, he would want to punish her further.
She shivered, and her toes curled into the bed linens. What had he thought of?
He returned with a riding crop. Dorothy’s jaw dropped. “You are not ,” she said.
“You seem so scandalized,” he said, laughing.
“I am!” she exclaimed.
Gerard settled once more between her legs. “It is important to discipline one’s wife,” he said, trailing the crop up the inside of her thigh.
Dorothy tensed, clenching her buttocks. “But with a riding crop! I am not a horse!”
“Then, why do you let me mount you like one?” he quipped.
“I have never done that !”
“Perhaps, we should try that ,” he said, matching her inflection. “Now, how many strikes is appropriate for your deception?”
“Five,” she blurted out.
Gerard raised an eyebrow. “And where have you divined that figure?”
“I learned about the deception five hours before you did.”
“Very well. Five strikes with this crop to correct your undesirable behavior.” His face softened. “If I strike you too hard, you must tell me, and I will stop at once.”
Dorothy took a steadying breath and nodded. He brought the riding crop down on her right thigh.
Crack!
Stinging pain spread across her thigh. Dorothy gasped, her back arching off the bed. She barely remembered to keep her hands where they were. Gerard soothed over the stinging place with his hand, and she stared, transfixed, at the spot of hot red against her pale skin.
“That is one,” he said. “Shall I deliver the second?”
“Yes,” she rasped.
He brought the riding crop down on her left thigh.
Crack!
She cried out from the pain, and her core burned with heat. Dorothy shifted her hips, desperate to relieve the burning need between her legs. Gerard clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“Be still, my wife! You still have three strikes to go.”
He delivered the third, and although Dorothy fought to remain still, her thighs quivered. Tears sprang to her eyes, and her breath quickened. The strikes of the crop hurt, but they were bearable, especially when compared to how her inner walls clenched with need.
“Two more,” he said. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Her voice shook just a little. “As long as you touch me when you are finished.”
“Oh, I shall do more than that.”
He delivered the fourth, and Dorothy’s walls clenched. She heard a lewd, wet sound as her arousal pulsed onto the bed. Gerard gently parted her folds with the edge of the crop, and Dorothy’s muscles all tightened. “Oh! You do not intend to strike me there , do you?”
“A wonderful idea,” he said, grinning devilishly. “I do have but one strike left to deliver.”
She swallowed hard, bracing herself for the strike.
“Good girl,” he cooed.
When he brought the crop down, the sharp sting bit her core, and she shrieked.
Her body jolted from the bed as a wave of pleasure swept over her.
She gasped, shaking in the aftermath. Gerard shoved a finger effortlessly inside her, and Dorothy groaned.
Her fingers flexed, and her wrists strained against her bonds.
The crop had left behind a faint, tingling sensation in her core. She bucked her hips, riding his hand. Her muscles coiled tightly as Dorothy neared yet another glorious release. When he withdrew his fingers, she nearly came undone with the force of her need.
With trembling fingers, Gerard unfastened his trousers and revealed his manhood, hard and flushed.
“Oh, yes!” she groaned.
With a single thrust, he was inside her. Dorothy gasped, her body moving instinctively to meet his every movement.
“Oh, I love you!” Dorothy exclaimed. “Oh, please!”
He laughed. “You are insatiable!”
“No more than you!”
She rocked against him, effortlessly matching his rhythm. He had not mounted her like a horse, as he had promised, but Dorothy imagined they would try that another time. She pushed against him, shaking and sweat-damp with the force of her labors.
At last, she reached the summit of her release.
White light obscured her vision, and she screamed in satisfaction.
Gerard moved more fiercely inside her, Dorothy’s walls clenching wildly around him.
He quivered, and a rush of wet warmth filled her.
Dorothy groaned as he pulled from her. She let herself lie limp against the mattress, gasping for air.
“Magnificent,” she said.
He chuckled. “I hope that you are always so kind to me.”
Gerard rolled onto his back beside her and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. “Shall I hold you, my good girl?”
She smiled and curled up against him, laying her head against his chest. Her wrists were still bound, but she did not ask to be released. “At least, for the rest of the night,” she murmured. “Perhaps, for a few hours in the morning, too.”
He hummed and kissed her hair. “For as long as you like.”
The End?