Page 29 of A Duchess to Unravel (The Devil’s Masquerade #3)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“ A listair--”

“Quiet,” He commanded from the bed, his tone harsh.

Gathering anticipation had Theo practically crawling out of her skin as Alistair had led her away from the dancing and gathering and into one of the private rooms. Once he’d gotten her there, he’d stood her in the center, commanded she stay, and then walked to the edge of the bed.

There he had stood, for several minutes, simply studying her with a growing intensity.

Theo gulped, beginning to wonder if her little soirée into blatant disobedience had been a good idea after all.

Alistair’s head cocked a little to the left as he saw her throat bob, his lips still an even line across his masked face.

He’d snuffed out most of the candles and lamps, making it impossible to see his eyes.

“Your mask. Take it off,” Alistair commanded.

Despite her earlier bravado, Theo’s fingertips trembled as she reached up to the mask and slid it away. Alistair moved with slow, sure steps toward her, and stretched out his hand, silently bidding her to give him the mask. She placed it in his palm.

“You like breaking the rules, don’t you?” He asked, his fingers swirling around the inside of the mask. Almost as if he were caressing the part that had touched her face.

“Not just mine. All of them. From anyone.” He took a measured breath then said. “You may answer.”

Theo drew in a breath of her own, feeling a sudden pressure to tell the truth.

“Yes,” she said, tilting her chin up. Not in defiance, but as an acknowledgment that it was true.

Alistair began to walk slowly around her, and she followed him with her eyes.

Just as her head was about to turn so she could keep her eyes on him, Alistair moved with surprising speed and stopped her.

His fingers were feather-light as they touched her jaw.

He pushed her head back to stare straight ahead.

“Eyes forward,” he commanded, his tone void of anger.

Pleasure bloomed beneath the brief, small touch, and she did not fight him. She heard the scrape of something against a tabletop behind her, as if he were setting her mask down.

“Ye’ve never felt the reward of obedience, have ye, little kitten?” He asked from behind her.

Then commanded, “Answer.”

Again, another tremble down her spine. Again, she knew she had to tell the truth.

“Not until you,” she breathed, recalling their first lesson in his office. Just the memory had her nerve endings sparking alive, and her already sensitive body began to throb beneath her dress.

“Aye,” he purred, slowly coming around to face her again, “yet you disobeyed me.”

The throbbing sensation in her body intensified, and she felt her fingertips begin to tingle.

“Perhaps I need more proof,” she boldly offered. “That obedience can reap rewards.”

A deep, primal sound rumbled from Alistair’s chest as he stood before her, his massive body towering over her much smaller stature.

Theo was painfully aware of every move he made, and when she saw his hand reach up, need sparked within her as she imagined it was to touch her.

She was woefully disappointed when instead he reached for his cravat and loosened it.

“Rewards ye will get, little kitten,” he promised, slowly sliding the bit of fabric from his throat. “But first, ye will pay for ye disobedience.”

Theo waited for the usual bout of panic she felt when punishment was mentioned, but this time, her body only responded with increasing anticipation. Whatever Alistair’s punishment-she realized she wanted it.

Alistair continued his circling. This time Theo knew to keep facing forward, and she sighed with contentment when she felt him press against the back of her body.

“As long as we are together, little kitten,” he whispered into her ear, tracing fingertips down her throat, “I am the only one that touches you.”

She felt him draw the cravat around her throat, whimpered when the bit of fabric constricted around her airway.

“Answer,” he hummed into her ear.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Yes, what?” Alistair said, cinching the cravat tighter.

“Yes, Your Grace!” She whispered loudly, her heart beginning to flutter wildly as she fought harder to breathe.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Alistair loosened the fabric and sagged against him. She whimpered as she heard the inhale of his breath against her ear, felt the tip of his nose caress against her lobe.

“Mmm,” he purred, sliding the cravat up to her eyes. “That’s my good girl.”

Alistair drew the cravat over her eyes snugly, shrouding her vision in darkness.

As he took away her sight, Theo felt all her other senses amplify.

She felt pleasure in feeling his even breaths at her ear, nearly trembled into a mess upon the floor as his fingertips brushed over the back of her neck and her mouth watered as she drew in the wild scent of her husband-- musky and feral.

She wanted to turn around, grab whatever part of him she could find, and kiss him with abandon.

She wanted to delve her fingers into the silken strands of his hair, tear at his fine clothing until she could feel those heated, hard muscles she knew laid beneath--yet she did none of that.

Instead, she stayed still. Waiting for his instruction.

“This is not going to happen quickly,” Alistair’s deep voice whispered into her ear. At her back, she felt his hands find the hooks of her dress and begin to free them one by one. With each one that was freed from its lock, she shivered with growing sensitivity.

“You are not going to move,” he told her as his fingers continued to free her from her gown. “Not unless I move you. Tell me you understand.”

Theo felt her dress fall into a puddle at her feet, then Alistair’s hands went to the strings of her corset.

“I understand,” she breathed, then added, “Your Grace.”

A sound of pleasure erupted from Alistair’s lips, and she was rewarded with a kiss just below her ear that made her nipples harden painfully.

“Ye are learning,” he praised, dropping her corset.

She felt his body move away from her then, and though she stood still, she whimpered in protest. An overwhelming relief took over her when she felt Alistair’s strong hands at her calves, and his deep voice commanding her to lift one foot, then the other.

She heard the rustle of her clothes being lifted from the floor, then tossed.

Then she heard nothing. Her ears perked to the silence, straining to hear even just the soft huff of Alistair’s breath. Nothing. Had he left? Had he abandoned her in the room without her sight or clothes?

Her heartbeat suddenly spiked at the thought.

She flexed her fingers. Felt nothing. Just the warm air sizzling against the entire expanse of her bare skin.

She was naked. Blind. And alone. And somehow, that made her feel more vulnerable and timid than ever before.

Theo felt herself shrink from the intensity of such feelings, and she moved to cover herself.

“Do not,” Alistair’s harsh command broke through the silence.

Theo dropped her arms to her side. The hairs on the back of her neck stood. Yet she let loose a breath of relief and felt the gathered tension ease from her tightened body. He was here.

A shuffle on the carpet spiked in her ear.

A footstep, purposeful and heavy. Another.

Theo felt warmth leech into her neck, and she breathed a sigh.

A soft wind whispered across her pebbled skin, starting from behind her ear and down the nape of her neck.

A moist heat settled onto the small, white, almost-invisible hairs that covered the slope of her shoulder.

Kiss me, she silently begged, knowing that it was Alistair’s breath; knowing his mouth had to be mere centimeters from her flesh. She wanted to feel his lips. His teeth. She wanted to feel the sting of his bite and soothing swipe of his tongue afterward.

“Alistair,” she breathed.

“I didnae say ye could speak,” he murmured into her ear. His voice sent a tremble of desire down her spine, but before the sensation could even reach the middle of her back, Alistair’s hand was clamped over her mouth and his teeth were sinking in her neck.

Theo let out a noise that made her blush.

The harmonies of both pleasure and pain twisted into strange melody that hit the barrier of Alistair’s hand and resounded back into her.

Her body spasmed uncontrollably at the delicious feel of Alistair’s love bite, and she felt her knees weaken and give out.

Then suddenly pain, sharp and white-hot, erupted into her left buttock.

It caused her knees to straighten immediately and she released another pain-filled moan into Alistair’s hand.

“Shhh, little love,” Alistair coaxed in her ear, his forearm like a bar around her hips so she could stay upright.

“Breathe. The pain will subside.”

Theo then felt Alistair’s hand, soothing and warm, slip from her hips to glide over the painful sting at her backside, and her moan turned into a whimper as she sagged against his touch.

“Are ye starting to learn, little kitten?” Alistair asked, his hand massaging magical, healing circles into Theo’s backside.

Drawing in deep breaths from her nostrils, Theo nodded enthusiastically.

“Very good,” his deep, whispered voice praised, then Theo felt his fingers caress from her mouth to her chin. Alistair turned her head abruptly and possessively crushed his lips to hers in a demanding kiss.

Pleasure sparked through Theo’s veins once again, but before she could lean into the kiss, give herself fully to it, Alistair was tearing away from her--and again she was alone. Felt nothing. Heard nothing. Not even Alistair’s breath.

The loneliness once more slammed into her with force, and she blindly turned her head left, then right, wanting to sense just the littlest bit of him. Wanting to know he was still there.

This was the torture. Not the spank of her backside, not the bite of Alistair’s teeth. The void. Of not seeing, of not knowing where he was. If he looked at her in awe or disgust. Of not knowing if he was even looking at her at all.

Theo’s feelings and sensations amplified in the cold, bare, silence, she almost wept with relief when she felt Alistair’s large hand caress down her spine.

“Shhh, little kitten,” he soothed into her ear. “I am here.”

A tear slipped Theo’s cheek, overwhelmed by the strange trick he was playing on her. It was not just her flesh he was toying with but her emotions as well.

Alistair’s caress continued. Down her spine, over her hips.

Those skilled fingertips traced up her waist and to her breasts.

They played with her nipples delicately until she felt she was being teased to insanity, and then when she let out a whimper, the touch ceased immediately.

She swayed forward, panting as the wicked pleasure drew toward too much, and then she felt another white hot sting against her backside. This time, her left cheek.

She trembled with overstimulation as she surged forward, caught quickly once again by Alistair’s iron-like forearm.

“I am sorry,” she panted, sinking into his hold.

She had no idea where the words came from or why it was those words that broke from her lips, but she knew as soon as she heard them they were the correct ones.

She waited for another sting. Or another reprimand, reminding her that she did not have permission to speak.

But Alistair only continued to hold her upright, his body statue-like in its rigidness.

“I am sorry, Your Grace” she said breathily, “For disobeying you.”

She meant it, too. Wholly and irrevocably.

When she thought of what her punishment would be nothing like this had ever crossed her mind.

She’d pictured his anger and impatience coming out in other forms- but not this.

Not this sensory torture that was both melting her body and freezing it at the same time.

“That’s my good girl,” Alistair whispered into her ear, massaging soothing circles into her backside.

Theo absolutely dissolved at the praise, her body going positively liquid. Alistair brought her up into his arms in one smooth swing, and she felt him walk a few steps. When he stopped and lowered her onto the soft bed.

Anticipation spiked in her again, thinking that she was about to feel Alistair’s lips against her body; that he was going to lay her down and give her those shivers of release she was now so addicted to.

Instead, he removed her blindfold, and after patiently waiting for her to blink and have sight again, he held out her clothes to her.

“Get dressed.” He commanded, his black eyes glittering with need as he stared down at her.

Hurt and disappointment sliced through her, and with a trembling hand, she reached for her corset.

“We are leaving?” she asked, and found the tone of her own voice positively pathetic.

Alistair gave her a single, solemn nod.

“But I thought that was my punishment,” she weakly argued.

“It was,” Alistair stated, moving round the bed to cinch her corset for her. “And now we must go home.”

“But why?” She asked, then gasped as Alistair strung her corset tight.

“Because for what I am about to do ye, lass?” Alistair bit out, guiding her back into her dress, “I require complete privacy.”