Page 30 of The Duke’s Indecent Scandal (Indecent Dukes #1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

G regory

Spanking Tiffany on their wedding day had not been part of his initial plan, but he had not been able to help the impulse once he saw the opportunity. Especially after the way she’d responded to his commands, to his assault on her more tender parts… she liked a bit of pain with her pleasure. He’d seen her reactions. Gauged them. Now, he was testing her boundaries further.

Did she know they had moved beyond what another man might expect from his wife on their wedding night?

He could not imagine that she had expected to be spanked.

When he laid his hand down on the upturned curve of her bottom, leaving behind a pink mark where his palm met flesh, she moaned and shuddered. Her hips lifted her bottom as if asking for more, her arousal glistening on the plump lips of her pussy, framed by the fringe of dark curls. Her bottom hole winked at him as her cheeks clenched when he spanked her again, and his cock surged against his pants.

No, she could not possibly be ready for that yet.

Especially since she was already fearful of pain. He would have to prepare her carefully.

But he would prepare her because he was determined to claim all of her, eventually. The amount of possessiveness he felt over her was stunning, yet he accepted it as an inevitability not worth fighting.

“If it begins to hurt too much, just tell me to stop.” This was an introduction to his perversions, after all, and her first night experiencing anything like it. His hand smacked her bottom again, causing the flesh to ripple, and his cock jerked. She gasped, wriggling in response, but she did not ask him to stop. Instead, her hips lifted again, offering her pink cheeks up for more. Her upper half remained down, her hands gripping the headboard once again, head bowed in supplication as she waited for his next move.

Bloody hell, she was perfect for him and so much more than he could have dreamed of.

He rubbed his hand over the pink spots where he’d spanked her, his other hand coming down on her lower back to keep her in position. Though spanking was not his favorite perversion, more like an occasional indulgence, he was certainly enjoying watching his wife’s reactions to her first one at his hands.

“Four more, little swan, then I’ll demonstrate how sweet the mix of pain and pleasure can be.”

Tiffany

How did pain become pleasure?

A question she had no answer to, though she was experiencing the possibilities.

Every time Gregory’s hand smacked against her bottom, she felt the stinging response.

Four more.

His hand came down again, harder than before, yet her body lit with the same burst of arousal she’d experienced before. With his hand on her lower back, she did not jerk upright, and her hands clenched around the spindles on the headboard more tightly, maintaining her position. The swat still rocked her forward, and her breasts swayed beneath her, her nipples rubbing against the bedsheets with the movement, adding to the sensational mix.

The swat was repeated on her other cheek.

Then again. And again.

Tiffany panted for breath as he rubbed the two spots with his palms, his fingers digging into her soft flesh in a manner that was both pleasurable and painful. A sweet mix indeed. She wanted more. Craved it. Needed it. Despite the satisfaction he’d brought her, her body was already throbbing again, not entirely satiated from the earlier orgasms.

“Please,” she begged as he massaged her cheeks, even though she did not truly know what she was begging for.

A moment later, she found herself on her back again, Gregory’s mouth descending between her legs. She was becoming intimately familiar with the sensation of his tongue and mouth feasting on her there, and she eagerly pressed herself against his lips, seeking the pleasure she knew he would bring her. The sting from being spanked was already abating, swirling with the pleasure in a heady mix that was as sweet as he’d promised. Even as her bottom rubbed against the bedsheets, her cheeks far more sensitive than before, the slight sting only increased her pleasure.

He brought her to climax again, the wood creaking as her hands gripped it tightly.

He did not stop, the same as before, his mouth insistently suckling at her pleasure bud, sending wave after wave of ecstasy through her.

“Gregory, please! I cannot… it’s too much…” she begged as she writhed for him, hanging onto the headboard for dear life, even as her muscles protested from the strain. Head thrashing back and forth, her entire body tensed, heels digging into his back as she was sent over the edge again.

The intensity was such that tears began to leak from her eyes, sliding down the sides of her temples and into her hair, as the pressure within her escaped by any means possible. She could not possibly take any more pleasure. It was too much.

She gasped with relief when his mouth lifted, releasing her from its demanding hold, and she was left quivering against the bedsheets, panting for breath. Eyes closed, body trembling from the physical exertions, she felt utterly limp, close to fainting.

“Beautiful,” Gregory murmured, gliding his hands up her sides. Even that small touch made her shudder and gasp; she felt so exquisitely sensitive.

The bed shifted, then his lips were touching hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth, and she could taste the salty sweetness that coated both. The salty sweetness that came from her. And she did not know whether to be horrified or aroused.

Before she could veer either way, she felt something hard and strange prodding at her slick, swollen folds where Gregory’s mouth had just been. Far larger than his fingers had been in the carriage, but just as insistent as it began to push inside her. His mouth swallowed her cry as she felt herself stretch open to accommodate the invasion. Her legs moved, finding his bare ones, and she realized that, at some point, he had removed his breeches without her noticing.

It did hurt, briefly, as he entered her, whereas his finger had not, but neither was it the pain her mother had warned her about.

Gregory’s head lifted, ending the kiss, and he stared down at her, watching her face as his body shifted atop hers and the thing inside her moved deeper.

“Oh…” She gasped, clenching around it, but her soft, slick opening was no barrier to the hard thickness pushing into it. After all the climaxes he’d wrought upon her senses, she did not have the strength to do anything but lie beneath him, taking him within her.

“That’s it, little swan,” he murmured, studying her face. “Take my cock. I promise to make you feel good again.” He retreated, then thrust forward again, sinking deeper into her, taking her breath away yet again as it felt as though it was being forced from her body for lack of room within her lungs.

Tiffany moaned at his words, not sure she could handle being made to feel good again. She was too drained. Too limp.

Yet, as he filled her, the sensation awakened new pleasures inside her. The initial sting of entry did not last long, but the stretch as he moved deeper did make her ache… but like the spanking, it was not unpleasurable.

“Let go of the headboard,” he ordered, lowering his head to nuzzle against her neck as his body came to rest against hers.

She felt so incredibly, almost unbearably full. He rocked against her, rubbing himself against the bud of pleasure that he’d suckled so relentlessly, and Tiffany cried out again.

“Hold on to me.”

With the little strength she had left, Tiffany obeyed, releasing the headboard and wrapping her arms around his neck. She hung on as he began to move atop her, move within her, sliding back and forth within her slick passageway and sending a jolt of hot pleasure through her with every thrust.

It did not hurt, or if it did, the pain was subsumed by the growing ecstasy, the incredible feeling of being filled by him, the passion that was sizzling through her. This was better than his mouth. Being beneath him, feeling him within her, she found herself holding on to him with legs and arms, wanting him closer to her, deeper within her. Her energy returned as she began to lift her hips to meet him, her eyelashes fluttering as the tension within her core wound tighter and tighter.

“Gregory… oh, Gregory…” She could not cry out; she did not have the voice, did not have the breath. All she could do was whisper his name as the most intense sensation grew larger and larger within her. When it burst over her, showering her with ecstasy, she could do little more than sob at the intensity of her erotic bliss, still holding him close as the waves of passion threatened to drown her.

Gregory

Feeling his wife’s pussy clenching around his cock as she came for him again, Gregory lost control over his tightly reined passion. He pounded into her slick, hot warmth, his cock hardening to stone as he approached his own climax. His balls tightened, and he felt the tingles all up and down his spine before he thrust in hard, filling her completely.

He braced himself on his elbows to keep from crushing her as he shuddered above her, his cock pulsing within her as he pumped spurt after spurt of his seed deep within her pussy. Knowing that seed might take root. Hoping it would. Which was highly erotic in and of itself, feeling rather forbidden after so many years of trying to avoid unintentional by-blows.

Tiffany whimpered, shuddering, her soft body cradling his as his muscles slowly unwound, the tension leaking from them. He turned his head, pressing his lips to her temple. Wet, salty tears met his lips, and he flicked out his tongue to lick them away.

Delicious.

There was nothing Gregory loved more than bringing a woman to the utter brink from pleasure alone. There was a reason he was so popular among the ladies. They knew he was not only talented with his mouth but that he was going to make it his mission to leave them both depleted and satiated.

However, the ladies of the ton were going to have to find another nobleman with a penchant for using his tongue, someone else whose favorite perversion was leaving them spent from pleasure. Now that he had Tiffany, the idea of taking another woman to his bed felt more than wrong—it felt abhorrent.

“Gregory.” She sighed out his name, her arms hanging loosely about his neck, fingers trailing through the edge of his hair, making all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

No, he certainly wanted no other woman. He moved his lips over the side of her face, gently kissing the remains of her tears away. Tears of passion, of pleasure. The only kind of tears he ever wanted to cause her. Her breasts heaved beneath him as she slowly calmed, coming up to meet his chest, then dipping back down again.

His cock was slowly shrinking inside her.

Time to see if she would accommodate another one of his… less common desires.

Drawing his hips back, he disengaged from her, making her shudder as he slid from within her. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed and hazy from pleasure—the look of a completely satisfied woman. Gregory smiled smugly, taking a brief moment to enjoy her expression before he got into position, sitting beside her. He did glance down to ensure there was no blood from her deflowering and was reassured to see that his dick was glossy with her arousal and streaked with the white of his culmination but nothing else.

“Come here, little swan,” he murmured, sliding his hand beneath her head, cupping the back where it met her neck, and using it to turn her toward him. Her head was level with his lap. Her coiffure was now a mess of curls, tiara askew. The heavy weight of the sapphires dragged across the top of his thigh as he pulled her toward his softened cock. “Open your mouth. I want you to clean me with it.”

She glanced up at him, startled, her body mostly limp in his, but then her head went down. Her cheek rested against his groin, and he felt her hot breath before she shifted downward and took him between her lips.

With a sigh of pleasure, he leaned back, his fingers massaging her neck above the necklace she was wearing, as she began to suckle the softened length of his cock. Her tongue laved over the sensitive tissues, cleaning him as he’d requested.

His sweet, submissive little swan.