To Tame A Countess (Properly Spanked Book 2) (11 page)

His only answer was to place his palms on the insides of her thighs and push them open wider. Really, frighteningly wide.

“I’m not sure you ought to… Oh, my goodness.”

He touched his tongue to her center, right at the place that ached the most. She bucked her hips up, straining at her bonds. His tongue teased down, down, down, until she was absolutely certain he was licking an indecent part of her body.

“Please, you must stop that,” she begged.

“I’ll stop when you come.”

“W-what does that mean?”

He paused in his licentious efforts and gazed up at her. “You remember.”

Oh, yes. She did remember. “But how am I to manage that?” She tugged at her bound wrists. “You’ve tied me up.”

He grinned. “Isn’t it exciting? Now you can’t stop me from doing whatever I want to your body. These honeymoons are a fine thing.”

She watched in helpless captivity as he lowered his head and resumed licking her in a voracious way. Each touch, each heated gust of breath built on the one before it. She began to feel so full down there she thought she must explode.

“Please, untie me.” She wanted to touch him, to guide his head to the exact places it was already going. He ignored her pleas and used his fingers to part secret flesh, manipulating the folds. She could feel how wet she was. “Please, let me go.” It alarmed her to feel so powerless.

He stopped and reached to put his hands over hers. “Don’t pull like that. You’ll get abrasions on your wrists. Just accept that you’re at my mercy for the moment.” He leaned to kiss her, brushing her scent and heat across her lips. “I love to touch and taste you everywhere. You’re mine now, Josephine. Let me do what I will.”

“But it’s light outside. I think—” He cut off her words with another deep kiss. She could barely hold on to coherent thought. “Perhaps we ought to rise for the day, and dress.”

“You don’t wear clothes on a honeymoon, silly.”

She opened her mouth in surprise, and he stuck his tongue right inside it. She moaned as he pinched one of her nipples. His knee was between her legs, pressed right against her pulsing center.

“I can’t go about naked,” she insisted when she was able. “One must wear clothing every day.”

“Not on a honeymoon,” he insisted in an equally firm voice. “Your things were taken downstairs for cleaning and that’s where they shall stay until it becomes absolutely necessary to put them back on again.”

Josephine thought it was absolutely necessary to put them on
now
, for the liberties he took with her body shocked her. He moved his knee and gave a sharp, firm slap to the tingling part of her he’d just been caressing with his tongue.

“Don’t hit me,” she pleaded against his lips.

“Not hitting. Love taps. Arch your hips for me. Keep your legs open.”

She didn’t want to, but some edge in his voice compelled her to obey. He slapped her there again, not terribly hard, but hard enough that her entire middle gave a great throbbing pulse of excitement.
Wild humors
, she thought in dismay.
I am having them now too.
He palmed her center and slid his fingers inside. It felt good but still a little tender. There had been blood last night at the beginning, and after the third time he took her, he said he wouldn’t again.

But this felt nearly as intense as when his male part entered her. He gave another slap that made her cry out against his mouth, and then he found the spot that pulsed and closed his fingers upon it, and pinched it. She began to pant. As the pinch sharpened, her pants rose to an alarmed whine. “That hurts. Oh, please, my lord.”

“Warren,” he corrected her. “
My lord
is for when you’re being scolded. Warren is for times like these. Does it hurt very badly, my darling?”

She tried to wiggle away from him as the pinch sharpened. “It hurts awfully.”

“But you’re getting wetter.” His pinching fingers let go, only to slide inside her again. Yes, she was even wetter. She felt so ashamed about it, but there was nothing she could do but lie there with her arms held over her head. When she tried to clasp her thighs together, he told her no, and pressed them open. He went back to licking her in his ardent way, and now it felt impossibly complex, because it both hurt and felt wonderful.

“I would really rather get dressed,” she murmured, trembling. “You ought to put on clothes also. Honeymoon or no.”

“Tell me when it starts to feel better again,” he said, ignoring her suggestions.

“When it feels better again, what will you do?”

“See if I can make you come. This is called oral pleasuring, by the way, and ladies can do it to gentlemen too. After this, I’ll let you take your turn.”

She gazed down at his industrious blond head and thought he must be the daft one. How on earth was she to do this to him, with that great big organ of his jutting up between his legs? “Are you thinking about coming?” he prompted when she tried to close her legs again.

She didn’t want to think about coming. It would be too frightening to lose control like that now, while she was tied up. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it.”

He slapped her again, right between the legs. “I want you to try.”

Each time he slapped her, she felt hot and aroused all over, especially in that brimming, sensitive spot he kept licking. The next time he slapped her, a groan escaped her, a begging sort of exhalation. She flushed hot that she would even make such a sound. He knelt over her and kissed her mouth, so her scent was all over her again. She licked it from her lips, and from his too. “Am I hurting you, kitten?” he said in a voice that was not so much concerned as pleased.

“Yes, you are hurting me,” she said, making her hands into fists.

“Open your legs. I want you to keep them open, do you understand?” He pressed them apart until she was most obscenely on display, then leaned down and brushed his tongue over all her most private parts. “Arch for me,” he said. “Offer yourself to me.”

She bit back the most improper noises as he teased her overstimulated flesh. “Oh, I can’t…”

He left off licking her and kissed up her hips to her waist, and then up to her breasts. “Look how hard you are,” he said with a piratical smile. She didn’t know what he meant until he tapped the peak of one of her nipples, which had indeed drawn up into a tight point. Somehow, she felt that tap more between her legs than in her breasts. He closed his fingers on the nipple and pinched it even harder than he’d pinched her pussy.

“
Oww
,” she whined, flailing about.

“Open your legs!”

“I can’t.”

“Open them.” He gave her pussy several slaps in succession, until she felt she must open her legs wide the way he wanted. Her center pulsed with excruciating need.

“What are you doing to me?” she cried. He was pinching both nipples now with increasing severity.

“I’m teaching you about your body,” he said. “About pleasure and pain, and how they sometimes work together. Do you want me to hurt your pussy again?”

“No!” she said. But in her mind she thought
yes
. She turned her face away, burying it against her arm. She felt so ashamed and wild and hungry for more of what he was doing. “Please release me. It hurts.”

“I want you to come for me.”

More slapping, more pinching down there, while he scolded her to keep her legs open. He gave her no relief, no protection, no way to retreat from her own lustful urges.

“Yes, my good girl,” he whispered when she moved her hips and pressed herself against his palm. “Open wider. Give me all of you.” He ducked down to caress her again with his tongue, teasing that magic spot, the spot that made need surge and tangle inside her.

“Please let me— Please,” she gasped.

“Come on, I’m waiting,” he said against her skin. “I want to see it. I love you like this. Come for me, now.”

His urgent orders finally overcame her resistance. She let go of self-consciousness and shyness and let the pulses within her expand into full fruition. Her legs strained as she tried to keep them open, even now. He pressed her apart with his palms and sucked at her as she clenched and squirmed and arched into his mouth in the throes of overwhelming pleasure. It felt so lovely, but different from last night when he’d been within her. Her crisis felt a bit empty, as if she were not quite full enough or close enough to him.

But she didn’t dare say so. She had no doubt he’d start tormenting her all over again, and this time he’d be inside her, driving deep within her, and she wasn’t sure she had the energy for that just yet.

He was gentle to her now as she rested. No more pinching and slapping. He caressed her all over with his fingertips, slow, meandering trails that made her shivery and sated at once. Her hands and arms finally relaxed in their bondage. She felt…replete.

“What was that called again?” she asked when she had recuperated. “Oral pressures?”

“Oral pleasures. That’s one word for it anyway. It’s called other things.” He lay beside her and rested his head against her shoulder.

“It’s quite a singular activity,” she said. “Is it only for honeymoons?”

He laughed. “No. It’s for anytime. I’ve done it in carriages, haylofts, drawing rooms, garden follies. I even tried to do it on the back of a horse once. I can’t recommend that.”

My goodness, Lord Warren had done this so many times. No wonder he was so good at it. But part of her felt jealous of all the women he’d kissed and caressed before her. “Were they nice? The women you did that with?”

“Nice?” His expression went strangely cloaked. “They were just women. Men visit certain establishments in their younger years, to learn how to go about things. To learn proper lovemaking for when they get wives, that sort of thing. It’s nothing you want to know about, I’m sure.”

“You mean, they’re like teachers?”

He hesitated a moment. “Yes, that’s exactly what they are.”

“You must have had some very good ones,” she said shyly.

By now, he had flushed a deep shade of red. “I suppose I did. I hope I can pass some of that teaching along to you. You remember I said that women can give men oral pleasures?”

Josephine glanced down at Lord Warren’s organ, which was even more red than his face. She licked her lips, her satisfaction of moments before giving way to a bit of nervousness. “Yes, I remember.”

“Would you like to try?” He reached to untie her wrists. “It’s not something you master in a day, but you might begin learning the rudiments.”

“Are there…a great many rudiments to learn?”

He glanced down at her with another soft laugh. “Not so many, at the end of it. And it doesn’t take much skill when a man’s in a condition like this.” He indicated his engorged staff. “I’m very aroused, as you see.”

Josephine thought she must at least try to learn some of these rudiments, since he seemed in a dire state.

“And do I tie you to the bedstead too?” she asked.

She could not understand his expression at all then. He blinked at her and shrugged, and chuckled once, and gave a dashing grin.

“Of course you tie me to the bedstead, darling. Whyever not?”

*** *** ***

Warren loved a good lark. All his friends knew that about him, and being bound to a bed by his mostly-innocent-but-also-somewhat-debauched wife certainly qualified as a lark.

“Tie it tight enough that I can’t get away,” he suggested, as she carefully fastened the stocking about his wrists.

“Will you try to get away?” she asked.

He licked one of her full, lush breasts when it came close enough to his mouth. “
You
wanted to get away, didn’t you?”

She sat back on her knees, her knot completed, and smiled. “That’s because I had no idea what you were up to. But I imagine you’ve done this before.”

Not like this
, he wanted to say.
Never like this.

She had not tied him tight enough. He could escape his bonds if he tried, but he didn’t want to try. As much as he liked to be the one doing the tying and tormenting, there was something deliciously depraved about lying here under her power. She knelt beside him, gazing with wary attention at his swollen manhood. Even that aroused him. His cock gave a bouncing jump.

Her eyes went wide. “You can move it?”

“It’s part of my body, kitten, not some inanimate thing. Of course I can move it. You can too. Touch it. Stroke it gently. That’s a good way to begin.”

She bit her lip, an enticing sign of concentration as she reached to caress a finger up his length. He’d taken her three times last night—more times than he should have—but there had been none of this, no playful teasing and exploration, especially from her side. He noticed now how small and delicate her fingers were. He wanted to guide her hand, to show her the proper pace and pressure to please him, but he couldn’t. He tensed and untensed his arms.

“You won’t hurt me,” he said. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

The little liar. He would spank her for plenty of made-up things over the course of their marriage, but some time he’d have to spank her for all the times she claimed she wasn’t afraid when she so obviously was.

“Sit between my legs,” he said. “Find a comfortable position and pleasure me from there.”

She did, staring at his cock and balls as if she expected them to rise up and attack her. This was the time he ought to have begun wishing for one of Pearl’s whores to be here, to fall on him and worship him, and mouth him sloppily, and suck him to a paralyzing peak. But he didn’t. He only tensed his arms again and moved his hips in a gesture of need.

“You must tell me precisely what to do,” she said. “I haven’t the slightest idea how to go about this. I wasn’t paying attention to specifics while you were doing it to me.”

He gritted his teeth against laughter and comical frustration. “It’s all right, I’ll tell you everything to do.”

“Yes, that would be lovely.”

My God, it would be lovely to shove his cock into her pretty little mouth and lodge it in the back of her throat. That would be magnificent indeed. “First get your mouth nice and wet,” he said. “The wetter, the better. That’s the first rudiment, I’d say, to use plenty of moisture. Once your mouth is nice and wet I want you to kiss and suck the tip.”