Page 17 of A Duchess Disciplined (Dukes of Dominance #1)

CHAPTER 16

T he carriage ride back to the estate had been silent and awkward. William’s disapproval was like a storm cloud, filling the entire carriage with a dark and foreboding sensation. It reminded Catherine of walking along the coast of Cornwall just before a storm, knowing it was coming from the coolness and the lightning that surged in the air.

“Go to your bedchambers!” William snapped, his stern gaze fixed on his sisters. “I want you to reflect on what you have done today. This will not happen again.”

Hannah and Hester fled without another word. Catherine’s blood boiled as she witnessed such masterful behavior. It had only been a little harmless game! Why did he behave as though they had murdered someone?

“There is no need to be this upset,” Catherine said evenly.

He gave her a sharp glare. “We will continue this conversation away from curious eyes and ears. I will not have the staff overhearing my correction of my wife.”

Catherine curled her fingers into the folds of her skirts as he beckoned for her to follow. He led her through the familiar corridors of the house until he arrived at his bedchamber. William shoved the door open and jerked his head, silently gesturing for her to enter.

She squared her shoulders, as she stepped into his bedchamber. It seemed as though they were going to have one of their marital arguments. She strongly suspected that most of their marriage was going to be a series of arguments. When William closed the door behind him, she whirled about to face him.

“Well?” she asked. “What is it that has you so vexed?”

“ You ,” he replied. “You chased after ducks, and worse, you convinced my sisters to chase them with you!”

Catherine arched an eyebrow. “And? It was a harmless game!”

“Harmless? I brought you here, so you could help my sisters grow into proper young ladies and someday help them procure respectable husbands! Instead, you are doing the exact opposite! You are teaching them to behave like—like?—”

“Like children ?” Catherine interrupted. “They are just girls, and there is no harm in them chasing after ducks.”

“Someone might have seen you.”

“I did not see anyone.”

“That does not mean there was no one!” William snapped. “And someone might very well have heard you! My sisters might have been ruined today!”

“Ruined?” Catherine asked in disbelief. “You forget that I managed to marry, and I was much wilder than both of them combined and at a much older age!”

“You only managed to marry because I made it so!”

He was right . The realization struck Catherine as if it was a bolt of lightning. Her face fell, and a cold, creeping dread fell over her like a cloak. She wanted to argue with him, but that was difficult, for Catherine found that she could not truthfully deny his words. “I suppose you are right,” she murmured, her shoulders slumping.

William gazed at her with an unreadable expression. After a long moment, he sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I suppose I cannot blame you,” he said. “Do not worry overly about the park. After all, I know that you do not vex me on purpose.”

Catherine sighed. “I cannot deny my own nature,” she murmured.

“No,” he agreed, cupping her cheek in his hand. “You have only grown the way that you were nurtured, and that is no fault of your own.”

Catherine frowned, an inkling of displeasure forming in the pit of her stomach. She could not have said precisely why, for she found that she had no real defense for his words. Still, Catherine had never been a woman who liked to accept defeat.

“I disagree,” she said.

“Of course, you do.”

“I have grown this way because it is in my nature,” she said. “You cannot blame everything on my brother, for I am quite certain that I wrote many chapters of my own salacious nature. What do you say to that, Your Grace?”

His lips pressed against hers. She inhaled sharply, breathing in the scent of his Albany cologne. A low groan tore from her throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck and urged him closer. He seized her by the waist and pulled her flush against him, and pleasure bloomed in her core. William kissed her with such passion that she nearly lost her breath.

By the time he drew away, Catherine’s jaw ached, but she cared not. She would endure all the discomfort in the world if she could just continue kissing him until the end of time. He pressed his forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes. “I must still teach you a lesson, though.”

“Must you?”

If it was anything like the lesson of their wedding night, she found that she welcomed it. He sat on the bed with an imperious expression. “Lift your skirts,” William said.

Heat rushed to her face. “No.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that an acceptable answer, Catherine?”

She anxiously wet her lips, swollen still from the kiss. Catherine slowly raised her skirts up past her waist.

“Petticoats, too.”

She did, and the warmth grew more fiercely across her face. With her hands full of her petticoats and skirts, she was entirely exposed from the waist down. Cool air brushed over her buttocks and the apex of her thighs, making her tingle with anticipation.

William leaned forward and caressed her thigh. Catherine trembled and leaned into his touch as his knuckles swept over that delicate part of her leg. She stifled a groan, her body already quite aware of the masculine aura that he exuded.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his breath hot against her thigh. “Spread your legs for me.”

As she did, that familiar ache began to form between her thighs. He leaned nearer to her, and Catherine’s breath caught in her throat. She waited, as he tilted his head. Pain bloomed in her inner thigh, and she gasped in surprise. He had bitten her!

Catherine stumbled and nearly fell, but William caught her in his arms. “Y—you!” she gasped.

He tipped her over his knee, and Catherine started, surprised by the sudden movement. She hurriedly pressed her palms against the floor to keep from tipping face-first onto it.

“Fifteen will be sufficient,” he said. “I expect you to count.”

“Count?” she asked. “Count what ?”

He took a handful of her skirts and pulled them up, keeping her bared. Cool air brushed against the apex of her thighs. She shivered in delight and anticipation, feeling wonderfully exposed.

A sharp crack split the air, and Catherine gasped, registering the sound before the sting of the slap. He had struck her right buttock , as if she was some wayward child!

“How dare you?” she cried, indignant.

He slapped her again, drawing a startled shout from her throat. “I said count the strikes. If you falter or lose count, I shall be forced to start again.”

Another slap.

“You cannot do this!” Catherine exclaimed, squirming and struggling to free herself.

He lifted a leg and placed it over hers, and his left hand seized her hair, pulling so hard that Catherine’s scalp smarted. “As a husband, I have a duty to correct my wife’s behavior. If you recall, I promised to administer correction before we were even wed, and you agreed to accept it.”

“I did not mean this !”

William slapped her again, and Catherine arched her back. The motion made his grip tighten on her hair. She rocked her body, as a dull ache began to bloom between her thighs.

“Perhaps, you should have clarified what you meant,” William said smoothly. “I told you to count. If you had obeyed me, we would have already made significant progress in your lesson. But alas.”

Slap! The crack of his hand against her right buttock was so loud that it seemed to echo throughout the entire room. Catherine had the horrifying thought that one of the servants might hear, and wetness dripped between her thighs.

“What if someone hears?” she asked.

“A man has a right to discipline his wife,” he replied, “especially if she has been wicked, as you have. Now, count .”

His hand struck her again, and her back arched. The muscles in her stomach tightened, and her inner walls gave an insistent, little pulse of need. “One!” she gasped.

With his left hand, he gathered up her hair and pulled hard, forcing her head back. He struck again on the other side, and Catherine whined deep in her throat. “Two!”

Her husband administered his correction again and again, while Catherine counted each strike. With every crack of his palm against her rear, jolts of pain and pleasure collided in her body. The inside of her thighs was wet with her arousal, and she burned with want for release of the tightness curling inside her.

After eleven strikes, he adjusted his grip on her. “See? You can be a good wife and accept your correction with grace,” he murmured, kissing her neck and causing gooseflesh to rise along her skin. “I am sorry that it hurts so much, but I have to be certain that you remember the lesson. I know you can endure it, my good girl.”

She groaned, just as he struck the crease where her left thigh met her buttock. Catherine jerked as the stinging pain spread through her. “Twelve!”

He struck her right thigh next. “Thirteen!”

Catherine was heady from the stinging and burning from his strikes and from her core. She squeezed her eyes shut, as her core throbbed with need. William spanked her again, harder. A ragged cry tore from her. “Please!” she begged. “Please!”

“Is please a number?”

Catherine swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to remember the count. “Fourteen,” she rasped. “Fourteen.”

His final strike came lightning-quick, and she arched her back as the slap tingled through her thigh. When he was done, she lay limply over his thigh. She was hot all over, and her core throbbed painfully with need. Catherine pushed her thighs together, desperately trying to relieve the ache.

“Please,” she whispered. “ Please .”

Catherine felt as though she was out of her own body. She squirmed in his grasp, trying to force his leg to rub against that delicate bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Her breath came in hot pants for air, and when William stroked her warm buttocks, she nearly came undone.

Catherine’s eyes stung, tears forming from the frustration of being unable to relieve the feeling between her thighs. “Dear God, please .”

“Please?” he asked. “What is it that you want?”

“I—I do not…” she trailed off, unable to put the words together to ask.

William chuckled, and when she looked over her shoulder, he shook his head in a look of mock pity. “Perhaps, it is this.”

He rubbed his finger through the dampness of her arousal and sank the digit inside her. Catherine’s walls clenched around him, and she wailed with need. She shifted her hips back, trying to urge him deeper. William pumped his finger in and out. Catherine struggled and twisted in his grasp, trying to meet his every thrust, but the position made it impossible.

“Oh, please!” she gasped. “Please, let me have my release! Please!”

“As you wish.”

He increased his speed, and Catherine bucked helplessly against his finger. The tightness and ache inside her grew, and her thighs quivered. Her body moved of its own accord without her having any conscious thought, and at last, she reached that glorious sensation of release.

White light dotted her vision, as the waves of pleasure thundered through her. She tossed her head back and screamed. When the crisis passed, she gasped for air and lay limply over his thigh, her chest heaving.

Idly, she noticed that her breasts had nearly freed themselves of her stays. Her hard, pink nipples rose impertinently over the bodice of her gown.

“I am not finished with you yet,” William growled.

He took her by the waist and pulled her onto the bed. She landed on her back and lay there, gasping for air. He grasped her thighs and placed a gentle kiss on her stomach, his eyes never leaving her face. Catherine inhaled sharply, as his lips moved down to the inside of her thigh. His teeth scraped against her skin, and she braced herself as he bit down.

A dull, throbbing sensation bloomed across her thigh. He soon turned his administrations to her other leg, and that familiar heat built inside Catherine once again. William trailed kisses and bites up her legs, slowly making his way to her center.

“Oh, what are you doing there?” she exclaimed.

He brushed his lips over her nub, and she gasped. Surprise thundered through her, for she had never imagined that a man might press his lips against her core. And his tongue. It was the strangest sensation, having his tongue flit against her nub and her folds. Her thighs trembled, and something about the idea of him kissing her in that secret place made her blood roar in her ears.

Her desire twisted inside her, like a wild thing aching to be freed. She cried out, just as his lips pressed against her entrance. Catherine’s release swept over her, taking her away once again. She shouted and tossed her head back, her body shaking. After the climax had ended, she remained lying on the bed and clenching the counterpane in a death grip. “Oh…” she breathed.

“Shall we see if you can achieve another one?” William asked.

“I cannot possibly!” she exclaimed.

He narrowed his eyes. “But would you like to try?”

Her breath caught. “Yes.”

William took a finger and carefully swept it between her folds. Catherine’s body shivered, already so sensitive to his touch that even the smallest caress sent her aquiver. He pressed the digit into her and pumped a few times.

She could hear the sounds of his fingering. They were horrible squelching sounds, like a poorly tuned violin. The sounds were so uncomfortable and lewd that her face grew hot. He certainly heard them, too.

Her breath quickened in time with his thrusts, and she felt another finger press into her entrance. She gasped, as he slowly pressed the second finger in her. Catherine’s inner walls shivered once again, clamping tightly against his fingers. Her muscles grew taut, her body jolting with want of the pleasure.

It grew and grew, and she found her pleasure once again. This time, it soared through her and lingered. She rode the wave even after the strongest part of it had passed and lay gasping in the aftermath.

William chuckled and lightly slapped the inside of her thigh. She groaned raggedly. “Better,” he said. “I trust that you will behave as you ought to now.”

“Yes,” she rasped. “Yes. I will not play like that with the girls in public anymore. I promise.”

“Good,” he said. “I do not anticipate you forgetting this lesson soon.”

She shook her head, too aware of how even the soft bed linens felt rough against her heated bottom. “I—I will not. I promise.”

“Good. Make yourself presentable before you leave this room,” he said. “I have work to do. Already, I have lost more time than I wanted to.”

“I still appreciate you coming to the park,” she said between breaths of air. “The girls enjoyed it, too.”

“Yes. Well.”

“You must tell them that they did nothing wrong,” Catherine added, pleading with her eyes. “They only chased the ducks because I did.”

William’s expression was unreadable. After a long moment of staring at her in silence, he turned away. Catherine remained sprawled over the bed, listening. After a heartbeat, she heard the door open and close. Her husband was gone.