Training Lady Townsend(21)

She hurriedly untied the rest of the knot and drew the linen from his collar. She set to the buttons of his shirt, nearly overwhelmed by the pure, appealing scent of him. When she reached the last button she realized she must untuck his shirt from his breeches to get it off him. He grinned at her.

“You must undo my breeches too, Aurelia.”

Her lips tightened around the pin in her mouth. She bent down to pluck at the buttons of his breeches, unable to avoid the obvious evidence of his arousal pressing against the fabric. She stopped when the waistline was loose enough to untuck his shirt, and tried to push the linen garment up over his head. It became a close type of exertion, because he was so tall, and his arms so long. At last he was obliged to help her do it, whipping it up so she fell against his front.

How solid he was. She knew that, had felt the evidence of it over and above her in their marital bed, but now her hands rested on his chest, and she could see every muscle composing his torso, as well as the rough, curling hair that neatened at his waist into a line that disappeared down to...there.

He stood back and she could see his man’s part bobbing, fully hard, from his opened breeches. He took the pin from her lips and attached it to the collar of his shirt, laying both aside.

“My valet will attend to that later. Kneel down now and remove my boots,” he said.

If he had not used that firm, commanding voice she wasn’t sure she could have done it. Kneeling before him put her in quite close proximity to his outrageously formed sex organs. She bowed her head and pulled at his boots, which were the very devil to get off. When she’d finally accomplished it with his help, she tried to rise.

“No. My breeches.”

With a faint sigh, she tugged them down. There was very little sensuality in her technique, she feared. She tried to slow down. As she drew them lower she contrived to caress her palms against his muscled thighs. That was sensual, wasn’t it? She believed so, because his heavy male member seemed to jerk in response. He stepped out of the breeches. She pushed down his stockings, her face on fire. She thought it must be as scarlet red as her still-warm bottom. That finished, she tried again to stand up.

Again, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Stay where you are.”

She went still, staring up at him. At it. It was impossible to ignore his maleness, thrust as it was before her face. What was he going to do to her down here? It was so very hard to hold his gaze.

“Do you see how you’ve aroused me?” he asked in a strained voice. “By merely removing my clothes?”

She wanted to ask how she could very well not see, but it seemed pert to do so. Oh, what did he want? This was all so very strange.

“Look at it,” he said. “You’ll become intimately familiar with my manhood in the coming days and weeks. Touch me.”

“T-touch you,” she stammered. “How?”

“Sensually, of course. Stroke me. Explore how it feels.”

How it felt? She knew how it felt from having it inside her body, thrusting and probing and stretching her open. But she obeyed him, reaching out gingerly to stroke his rigid flesh. She ran a fingertip from the base to the oddly shaped, purpling crown.

“What do you think of it?” His voice sounded ever more taut.

She regarded its angry red and purple color, and marveled at the veins throbbing just beneath the surface. “It looks as if it hurts.”

“It doesn’t hurt. Well, only in the most delightful way. Would you like to kiss it?”

She would not like to. She looked up at him with pleading eyes but she knew he wasn’t really asking.

“Kiss it,” he said in a firmer voice. “Kiss my cock.”

She had never heard it called a cock before. She had never imagined something so depraved as putting her lips on the swollen, grotesque thing. But if she said no, he would only force her to do it in some painful and ignoble way. If this was what ladies of the night did for gentlemen, kissed their hard, thick organs, then she supposed it wouldn’t kill her to do it. But she would not pretend to like it.

She inched forward and pressed her mouth to the tip. A warm, salty drop of liquid escaped, and she hurriedly swiped it from her lips.

For some reason, he found this funny. He chuckled and patted her on the head. “That’s another thing that happens when you arouse me. It’s not dangerous to ingest it. You needn’t react as if it’s poison.”

“May I stand up now?” she asked. She feared she might soon lose her composure.

“No. Not yet.” He reached down and rearranged himself. His cock, as he called it. She knew so little of the male anatomy, but there was more to see, more pieces and parts hanging down. She hoped he didn’t want her to kiss those too. “Kiss it once more, all around the head. The top part.”

His voice sounded curiously shaky. Could this be affecting him as much as all that? He gripped his shaft at the base and thrust it out toward her. She grimaced and did as he had asked, kissing around the ridge at the top of his length. He sighed in a raspy sort of way. She felt his fingers trembling—trembling—against the top of her head. They opened and closed in her loose hair.

“Enough,” he said. “That is...enough for one day. You did very well.”

His voice sounded quite rough now, but his features were pleased. She stared up at him from the floor with some relief. This whole encounter had been terribly awkward and uncomfortable.

And it was only the first day of her training.

“Lie back on the bed,” he commanded. “Quickly. You did your job too well and now I’ve got to be inside you.”

She had aroused him with these things she’d done, as awkward as they seemed. He felt great excitement and pleasure, that was obvious, and it made her rather proud. It made her feel...powerful.

As soon as she climbed on the bed, he turned her onto her back and pinned her arms above her head. Their gazes locked from inches away as he eased inside her with a groan. She didn’t know why he wanted her to do something so bizarre as kiss his cock, but it had made him very, very pleased. His lips sought hers, dealing a kiss as warm as any he’d given her since he’d taken her as his wife.

“I can barely hold back,” he said, thrusting hard and deep inside her. “Will you be able to come, my love?”

“Come where?” she asked.

He made a strangled sort of sound and kissed her again. “I’ll teach you how to do it, I promise. Just...not...today.” He growled low in his throat and shuddered against her, driving so deep he lifted her hips from the bed.

When his muscles uncoiled, when his body relaxed from its heightened tenor, she stared up at him. “Was that coming? What you just did?”

“Yes.” He sighed, catching his breath. “You have done it before too. You remember?”

She nodded. How could she forget the encounter with her body pressed into a corner, her skirts held up about her waist?

He eased off her, onto his side. He traced her lips with a fingertip, such a soft hint of a caress. “You will again, I promise. There is so much to teach you, Aurelia. But I don’t think I can bear any more of your innocence tonight.”

“Was I that bad?” He had hurt her feelings with that comment.

But then he shook his head and said, “No, my love. Oh, my innocent darling. You were that good.”





Chapter Nine: Confined




Aurelia sat close to the window, looking down upon the U-shaped front courtyard and the glittering white marble fountain which added such grandeur to her husband’s home. She held a letter in her hand, written on fine paper, sealed and franked by the Lansing ducal crest.

Dearest daughter, it read.

Your father and I have been thinking of you often in the blessing of your new marriage. We hope the marquess is proving a kind and attentive husband. The house seems empty with both our children gone, although we look forward to the arrival of Severin’s child at the holidays. Perhaps a Lockridge heir is not long off. How delightful to imagine it, my daughter. You have always been such a dutiful child, and in this too I am certain you shall make everyone proud.

Aurelia bit her lip. Her mother believed a woman’s first purpose, her only purpose really, was to provide her husband with heirs. It had been so difficult for the duchess when she only managed to provide the Duke of Lansing one son and one daughter. Aurelia was certainly doing her duty. If she didn’t produce a child soon enough to suit her mother, it wouldn’t be through her fault. She traced the outer edge of the letter, thinking she might already be with child. She wasn’t sure if the prospect pleased her or not.

Remember that marriage is based on mutual respect and great amounts of patience, the letter continued. Lust is an abomination, and passion is a fleeting, flighty thing, but respect can persevere forever and bring great dignity to both partners. I pray you will respect the marquess, dearest Aurelia, and that you will both find peace in honoring one another.

With great fondness,

Mama

Peace, thought Aurelia with a sniff. He gave her about as much peace as a stallion gave a mare in heat. She wondered what her mother would say if she wrote back such a thing to her. I am not certain of honor, Mama. Is it honorable for a husband to spank his wife each day for his own perversion? Can one cling to dignity while being made to do unnatural and lustful things?