Page 30 of The Duke of Fire (The Dukes of Desire #1)

W hat was not over?

Her cheeks heated as she asked, “What do you mean it is not over?” A pause. Then, “Your Grace?”

“I mean that I will not tolerate it the next time. When I call for you again, you will not defy me. You will come to the place I asked you to come. Is that understood, Miss Warton?”

Her name almost sounded like a curse, like a response to how she addressed him formally.

But she nodded, then, her heart pounding.

When she swallowed, her throat felt dry and raw.

No, it was not fear that made her feel this way, at least not in the traditional sense.

She feared that he was stirring something more dangerous in her, something that should not have woken up.

Amelia should protest this situation. Her knees might not be on the hard floor, but the rug made them burn just a little. Still leaning toward her, Sebastian held her by the wrist, rubbing the skin at the back of his hand with his thumb. It was almost tender, making her almost cry.

“Return to the ballroom before anyone notices that you are not there yet,” he murmured, as he seemed to battle with himself. “I am afraid I might do something we will both regret.”

“What if I do not want to get up?” Hesitation left her on all fours. Her body trembled as she tried to obey, rise, and leave the room. Her body felt heavy, though, and something seemed to root her in place.

You need to get up.

The voice in her head tried to pull her out of her stupor, which was both delicious and appalling. However, before she could even raise a part of her body, he had circled behind her once more, holding down her shoulder with a firm grip. It was not painful, but it had her gasping.

“I have changed my mind, Miss Warton,” he declared. “You see that? That was hesitation. You need to learn how to obey.”

She knew he was merely explaining away his own internal conflict. She knew it was wrong, but she did not want to leave.

“How will you punish me, then?” she asked cheekily.

His response made her yelp in surprise. His palm had come down sharply on her bottom. She quickly felt the sting.

“Sebastian!” she exclaimed.

The pain bloomed within her, but it also did something. Something unexpected. It transformed the hit into warmth, and it was spreading. Spreading. Until it pooled low in her belly.

“One more time,” he commanded, as if he did not expect any protest. He let another smack land on her buttocks once more. This one was harder, making her fingers clutch at the rug like claws. She let out a whimper but did not attempt to rise.

Then, there was more. It was a relentless rhythm.

Amelia never thought spanking could send reverberations through her body as it made her body move backward and forward.

He slowed down, though, until she swore she could hear him sobbing.

As if he were the one hurt. Then, there were caresses, soothing the spankings.

Even the hands that moved over her hips and buttocks followed the same rhythm.

Backward and forward.

She felt herself growing wetter and wetter. It felt like she was about to reach her pinnacle, but he kept on stopping just when she got close. She writhed. When she pumped her hips up and down to alleviate the feeling, he gave her another smack.

Sebastian’s punishment was her awakening. He had recognized that part of her that wanted to be let out so badly. Another smack, and she moaned aloud. She heard him curse under his breath, frustration seeping out from him, too.

“Do you understand what will happen when you defy me once more?” he asked, his voice conveying the same suffering she was going through.

His words might be rough, but the hand that was caressing her buttocks, as if to soothe the pain he inflicted, was not.

She wanted him to touch her more. Touch her all over. “Do you understand, Miss Warton?”

Pleasure and pain held her prisoner, so much so that it was difficult to respond without moving her hips or trying to clamp her thighs together.

“Yes,” she whimpered. “I understand now.”

It was at that moment that he sought to torture her more.

He bent behind her, letting his chest press against her back.

She bit her lip as she tried not to moan at his nearness.

She felt something rigid press on her buttocks.

Was that him? She moaned again. In pleasure.

In approval. He snaked one hand around to squeeze her aching breast and touch her nipple.

She yelped, but she wanted more. Was he going to give her something that would soothe her aching soul?

No.

Sebastian, the arrogant Duke of Firaine, quickly stood up and praised her, “Good girl.”

She recognized it for what it was. It was dismissal. His punishment ended there, but the true punishment had just begun. She was frustrated and trembling with lust, and he would not give her release.

“Amelia?”

She looked up and saw him watching her with a softer gaze, almost as if she were valuable to him. It took only one look, and she ran to him. He pulled her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. They kissed. It was hungry and desperate.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his breath against her lips.

“Y-yes. No,” she groaned as he kissed her some more.

Slowly, he guided her to recline against the cushions. His hands moved with reverence as he loosened the fastenings of her gown—not to remove it, but to reveal just enough. He bowed his head and kissed each inch with aching care, as if committing her to memory.

One of his hands slid under her skirts—slowly, carefully, always watching her face. Her lips parted, breath hitching as he found the soaked spot between her thighs. Then, he slipped a finger between her folds.

She clung to him, her face pressed into the crook of his neck as he worked her expertly with his fingers, drawing soft moans from her lips.

“Sebastian, I…”

Her body trembled as the heat inside her coiled tighter and tighter until it finally broke free. She gasped his name, shuddering as release overtook her, leaving her flushed and glowing.

Sebastian held her through it all, never letting go.

Later, Amelia left the room still shaken and breathless. She felt longing for him, wanting more of the hand that smacked her. Large, capable, and skilled hands. Yes, she wanted more of them all over her, especially with the reward that came after.

When she rejoined the crowd, she caught a glimpse of the dowager duchess watching her with knowing concern. She flushed with embarrassment. She knew she and Sebastian had been away from the ballroom for longer than was appropriate.

But nobody was questioning her absence. Everyone was preoccupied with their own concerns. Even Octavia seemed to have found some people to fawn over her.

Yet, she came back completely changed. She realized that she no longer wanted to leave London. Not while Sebastian was here. He was the only one who had made her feel so alive.

Sebastian only had a little of his self-control left when he stood up and asked Amelia to go back to the ballroom.

He had to do that.

He realized that he had gone too far. He pushed her and himself to a point of no return. If she were another woman, he would have already had his way with her. He would have been sated, but probably he would have ended up hating himself.

He weaved back into the ballroom, using the sounds as his beacon. Amelia made him disoriented. His mission was to arouse her, make her want him, but not give her any relief. The problem was that he ended up doing that to himself, and it was killing him.

The lights were harsh on his eyes as he went back to the world of the living, where a group of lords and ladies formed the quadrille set. People were laughing while the violins continued to play. He stood on the edge of the ballroom like a wolf stopped by a fence.

Sebastian found her again. It was like his eyes homed in on her each time. To the ordinary eye, she had always been there, looking as beautiful as she came. He knew better. She was more beautiful now, glowing but slightly more rumpled.

She was talking to Miss Serenity, nodding but looking distracted. Then, her eyes flashed to her half-brother, who was only a few feet away. His presence reminded Sebastian why Amelia was in a quandary at all.

Lord Warton’s chest was puffed out, thinking he was more important than he really was. A man who treated a sister the way he did was nothing more than a pest. His wife, right beside him, might be with child, but she was not what he would describe as glowing. Her eyes looked as vindictive as ever.

The wolf edged closer, daring to cross the boundary. He needed to see her. He needed to see how she was after he had given her pleasure.

But it looked like Amelia’s dance card was half-full.

He wanted to pull it from her hand and crush it in his fist. But he remembered why they had to talk in private, at all.

She did not want people to talk about her, much less talk about her in relation to him.

For some reason, the thought made his chest clench.

A pink-cheeked gentleman, about her age, bowed gallantly in front of Amelia and claimed his dance. She politely joined him, graceful and elegant. She gave him a small smile, but it was too restrained. A few moments ago, Sebastian had her moaning and begging. Mine .

Still, jealousy reared its ugly head. His fingers curled, his nails digging into his palms. He had to face the fact that she might be looking for any way out, and it did not have to be him.

As for the pleasure? Of course, he knew she always had it in her. That desire. That passion. Even before she had met him, she already had something in her that was burning to be let out.

“If you want to start a duel, you can name me as your second,” Cassian murmured, suddenly materializing beside him.

“Why are you even here?” Sebastian asked, knowing that he was being unnecessarily rude to his friend.

“Oh, well. Let me join the two of you. Look around. Lady Ashcombe’s house is full of horrendous-looking but expensive porcelain. You might want to protect those to save your ears from the shrieking,” Benedict quipped.

“I am not going to do anything to the poor man,” Sebastian said through gritted teeth. The lord dancing with Amelia seemed like a nice man who made one mistake. One terrible mistake.

“Wonderful. I take it that you were able to talk to the exquisite Miss Warton?” Cassian asked.

Sebastian glared at him. He could not talk about Amelia like that.

“Yes, I have,” he said vaguely.

He did not know what had happened to him. In the past, he would tell his friends exactly what he did that made a particular woman moan. With Amelia, it was different. He would not share anything about her.

“Oh. Aren’t we getting any stories from you this time? If I had to publish a book about your past adventures, I would probably have several new volumes in my library,” Benedict declared in a monotone.

“You see? Miss Warton is special,” Cassian declared knowingly.

“Do you think so? She has disobeyed me many times,” Sebastian complained, although his blood ran hot again when he remembered what they did in the green drawing room moments ago.

“I approve of anyone, man or woman, who refuses to be commanded unless in the line of duty,” Cassian said, his eyes falling on Amelia.

“She is more impressive than I thought she would be,” Benedict admitted, folding his arms across his chest. “You see what has been happening? Because of her, you have not had a mistress in weeks. Unless you have started hiding more things from us.”

Sebastian frowned.

“I hope you have apologized for some of your behavior. I imagine you have been acting arrogantly,” Benedict advised. “Bringing an innocent to The Arrangement ? I do not even know what you were thinking.”

“Enough,” Sebastian said.

“For telling her that you are only ever there for companionship but demanding she sees you when she retreats from society,” Benedict continued, “and ignoring the fact that she may not be there for you if you are not willing to take her seriously and give her a home one day.”

Sebastian stopped himself from replying.

He knew that the exchange would only go back and forth.

So, he merely brought his attention back to Amelia and her dance partner.

The pink-cheeked young man finally returned her to Miss Serenity.

He took too long. Sebastian seethed, but knew he could not do anything but watch.

So, he left before doing anything they would both regret.