Rival Desires by Annabel Joseph

Author:Annabel Joseph
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
Publisher: Annabel Joseph
Published: 2019-09-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Erotic Punishment

Wescott stopped at the door to his room to request some needed items from a footman. A cane, some fragrant oil, a stout ginger plug. The Abbey’s kitchen staff was used to such requests. As for Ophelia, she trembled in his arms.

He would make it bearable for her, and yes, erotic, but there would be an element of punishment too. She must learn to submit to this marriage, and to him. If it took a certain amount of painful training to force her obedience, well, that was her choice.

He set her down in the middle of his bedroom, hoping she wouldn’t make a scene and try to escape by banging on the door or some such nonsense. To his relief, she did nothing more than back away a few steps.

“I don’t know what you mean to do with me, my lord, but I don’t…I don’t want it.”

“You’ve made that clear.” He gave a show of casual control, but her pouting lips had him aroused nearly to a boiling point. “You’ll need to remove your clothes now, Ophelia, all of them. You may do it yourself, or I can call a maid to help you.”

She waited, still trembling. “Why must I remove my clothes?”

“Because it will make it easier to place the ginger fig in your bottom and cane you, as I have planned.”

Her mouth fell open. “But you can’t do such things! What are you speaking of? You can’t mean to—”

“Shall I call Rochelle?”

He moved toward the bell pull and saw the choices flash across his wife’s expression. If Rochelle came, Ophelia might plead for her help, but that would only put Rochelle in an awkward position. Worse, the servant would know her mistress was being punished.

“Very well,” she said, half in tears. “I’ll remove my gown. But I cannot undo the buttons.”

He moved behind her to assist, easing her tiny pearl buttons from their loops. He felt a pang of guilt. She was so young compared to him, so small and afraid and inexperienced. He would not hurt her, not really. He was only showing her what intimacy meant to him, and therefore, must mean to her.

“You may lay your gown across the divan,” he said.

She obeyed, crossing to the dark furniture in her underthings. Her frilly froth of a dress looked out of place in his bedroom, which was hard and dark and masculine. How gracefully she moved, perhaps because of her stage training.

“Remove the rest,” he said when she turned back to him. “I’m your husband now. You must learn not to hide your body from me during intimate times.”

She didn’t want to follow his instructions, but she did, stripping off her stays, chemise, and stockings while sniffing back theatrical tears. Poor thing. She was right about one thing…her life would have been very different if she hadn’t married him. But she had.

He removed his coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves, going over his plans in his head. He might not seduce his way inside her tonight, but he would teach her the power he wielded over her.

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