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“No. You’ve got to get up and put on your special belt. I’ll meet you in the study at noon.”
****
He knew she hated the study. He knew she hated walking around with the toys inside her all day because she had to be careful how she sat down or moved to avoid any sudden arousal of nerves she really preferred only Nicholas know about. But she did it because that was the game. And it was hard to panic about anything else when she had a thick block of stone secretly stretching her open for her lord husband’s pleasures.
By the time she walked into the study two hours later, her ass felt fully invaded, her clit had been a constant, pulsing ache for too long to remember, and her thighs were wet.
And her husband was late.
She sat waiting for twenty minutes, trying to read a book and failing to ignore the leather digging into her overheated skin, the pressure against her pussy, the way her body reflexively clenched around the invading ivory and stone. What happens if he’s forgotten? What happens if he doesn’t make it? Do I relieve myself of the toys?
And why is the embarrassment about it making me wetter? Damn it. Damn him..
****
Nicholas
He cursed his way through the house, back to the study. A broken axle on a neighbor’s phaeton and two stray pigs had put rather a wrinkle into the estate’s morning.
He found Mia in the study, with tears at the corners of her eyes, and the rest of it stopped mattering. “What’s this? Is something wrong?” He’d shed his gloves, coat, and overshoes at the front door and had a moment to be glad of it when his wife threw herself into his arms.
“Y—you’re late. What happens if you don’t come?”
Ah. He grinned and kissed her forehead. “You do as you wish after half an hour of waiting. And I apologize to you when I show up.” He tilted her head up for a quick taste of her lips. “I am sorry, Mia darling. Your estate is occasionally a hazardous mire of nonsense.”
“Oh. Well. That’s true.” She sniffled delicately and nodded. “Still game, my lord?”
“If we are, you’re trying to earn a spanking.”
“That’s ... possible.” She bounced on her toes and gave him a look through her lowered lashes. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sore. And I was scared you weren’t coming back, and then I...” Her cheeks flushed, and her explanation died off in a way he’d only seen once before. And he remembered that day fondly. Nicholas humored her by cupping her ass—hard—with his left hand.
He bent to whisper in her ear. “And then you got tense and wiggly and made yourself come on accident?” He nipped the shell of her ear, and Mia jumped, whimpering.
“Y—yes.”
“And you know I don’t like you coming without me.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Nicholas grabbed her ass again. Harder. “You’ll just have to make it up to me. I can’t spank you until I’ve got you bound and gagged tonight anyway.”
“W—we’re supposed to attend a dinner tonight—”
“Good. That gives me the carriage ride to play with you, too.” He double-checked that he’d locked the door, then guided his wife to the massive oak desk her father had left behind. He pulled her around it until they stood where her father must’ve sat in terrifying judgment of her a thousand times. Nicholas kissed her with all the heat in his heart. They wouldn’t need this game much longer, but he intended to take full advantage while it continued. “You’re going to have a terrible hangover tomorrow, my love. You’ll be quite unable to leave your bed until supper.” He smiled and spread his fingers to savor the curves of her back.
“W—will you help me feel better?” she asked, her voice breathy with arousal.
“Of course.” He stood back so she had room to move. “Now, turn around, lift your dress, and bend over the desk.”
Mia stared wide-eyed. “H—here?”
“You promised. Whatever I want.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She turned, obeying his instructions, but ended up with her hands holding her skirts up and her face not nearly flat enough to the desk.
“Hands on the wood, angel. There you go.” He took over control of her skirts and tucked them up into her dress’s V-cut back before sweeping his hands over her shapely hips.
She had a few faded pink stripes from a little riding crop amusement a few days earlier, but he’d been otherwise careful about leaving marks, so she had only the scars of her father’s whippings left. And last time she’d been captive in this room, she’d been on the floor, taking a kicking from the bastard who sired her. So, he kept his touch light and reassuring, soothing her until she relaxed into her pose.
