Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

M ichael wished he could have just stayed home enjoying giving Belle a good spanking, among other things. Instead, he’d spent the entire day searching for a man who didn’t seem to exist. McKinnon and O’Connell had searched the land around the estate, Michael and Patrick talked to all of the tenants, and Ash and Giles interviewed half of the village. No one had seen a tall, thin, dark-haired stranger. There had been signs of his presence, however. Missing food and supplies had been noticed by more than one tenant, and there had also been evidence of mischief, like the broken gate he’d helped to repair.

The day had been grueling and by the time the dark finally drove them all back home, he was cold, exhausted, and frustrated. His injured arm throbbed in time with his footsteps as he made his way to his chambers.

To his surprise, Belle was waiting for him when he entered. Her enchanting smile evaporated when she saw the state of him, and she immediately rang for Jones. He hadn’t seen his reflection, but he could feel sweat and dirt covering his entire body.

“Sit,” she said, pointing at the chair she’d just vacated.

“Belle, there’s no need to fuss.”

Jones entered then and she turned to face him. “Have a bath prepared for his lordship as quickly as possible please.”

Michael shook his head. “See that our guests are taken care of first. There’s no rush.”

“Yes, my lord.” Jones gave a nod, but before he could leave, Belle stopped him.

“No. I am Lady Dalinridge, and you will do as I say without needing to consult with my husband.”

Michael had to bite his lip to stop himself from bursting out laughing. Jones’s eyes flicked back and forth between them, and he looked slightly terrified. Michael gave him a discreet nod.

“Yes, my lady,” Jones said with a bow before scampering from the room.

As soon as he was gone, Belle turned back to him. “That goes for you too. Sit.”

It was hard not to chuckle. His sweet, little Belle, ordering people about as lady of the manor. “Yes, my lady,” he said softly and settled himself into the chair.

She dropped to her knees before him and began working to remove his boots. He wanted to tell her she didn’t need to wait on him, but he probably wouldn’t win that argument. Besides, there was something so intimate about the act, even though it should’ve been utterly benign. When she finished, she sat back on her heels. “Did you find him?”

Michael shook his head and exhaled an exasperated sigh. “Not yet.”

Belle’s lips scrunched to one side. “Does that mean you’ll be going back out again tomorrow?”

“Probably. I’m afraid it may be a fool’s errand, though. We really don’t have any idea where to look for the man, or if he’s even still around.”

“What will you do if you find him?” She nibbled nervously on her lip.

He held a hand out and she placed hers within it. “You don’t need to worry, Belle. He won’t hurt me again.” The words didn’t seem to ease her concern any.

Jones stepped into the room. “Your bath is ready, my lord.”

Belle got to her feet. “Thank you, Jones. You may go.”

He hesitated, looking to Michael for help. “With his injury, he may need some assistance, my lady.”

“I’ll see to him,” she assured him.

Jones appeared completely flabbergasted.

Michael did chuckle then. “I’m afraid there’s no use arguing with her once she’s got the bit between her teeth.”

“Yes, my lord… lady?” With a huff he shook his head and left the room.

“You, wife, are going to scare off my valet. You’d best start behaving yourself.” He walked up behind her and slapped her bottom, hating all the layers of fabric covering her skin.

She turned around without a word and began undressing him. Every time he tried to help, she simply slapped his hand away. It was slow torture, each brush of her hand against his skin fanning the flames of his desire. By the time all his clothes were in a heap on the floor, he was hard and desperate for her. But she didn’t touch him, or kiss him, and the only hint that she reciprocated his desire, was the way her throat worked as he stepped out of his trousers. Her gaze had lingered for a brief moment, on his swollen manhood.

“Tub,” she said, pointing toward the door to his dressing room.

It was a little difficult lowering himself into the water slowly without causing more pain in his left arm, but he managed. At least the wound was fairly easy to keep above the water, but washing his body would be a task.

“Perhaps you should send Jones in. I think he may be right about me needing a bit of help.”

“Shush.” She quickly removed her bodice and set it aside before dipping a washcloth into the bath and rubbing it with soap.

“Close your eyes.” He was enjoying the sight of her bare arms and the mounds of her breasts above her corset, but reluctantly did as she instructed.

Gently, the warm cloth rubbed across his forehead, rivulets of water running down his face. Using her finger wrapped in the cloth, she meticulously cleaned around each eye and his nose and mouth. Broader strokes wiped his cheeks, chin, and throat, before a stream of water poured over him to wash the soap away. A dry towel blotted gently against his eyes.

“Much better. Now for the rest of you.”

He should tell her she didn’t need to do this, but the truth was, he desperately wanted her to. She moved the cloth leisurely over his shoulder and around to his neck, engulfing him in a haze of feelings and desires.

“Lean forward,” she instructed.

No woman had ever bathed him before. Somehow, he felt both startlingly vulnerable and cherished at the same time as she reverently washed every inch of him. Lifting his arms to wash beneath, careful not to hurt his injury, rubbing the cloth over his back and around his ribs before slowly making her way all the way down to his bottom.

A jolt of excitement speared through him as her soft lips pressed a row of fiery kisses across the back of his shoulders, her tongue gliding along his skin between each one. His manhood swelled a little more with each repetition. Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, she was gone, walking around to the other end of the tub.

“Give me your foot,” she said, brushing soap over the washcloth again.

He leaned back. “When did you take lessons in torture?”

A triumphant spark flashed in her eyes, but her expression remained innocent. “I know not of what you speak. I am simply washing away the layers of dirt you managed to accumulate on your body today.”

It was hard not to twitch as she plunged her cloth wrapped finger between each of his toes. When she finished with that, her thumbs sent ripples of exquisite agony through him as they massaged the sole of his foot in time with the throbbing in his groin. The agony was made only worse as she worked her way up his leg, careful not to miss an inch. She even washed behind his knee. His jaw clenched tight as her hand moved farther up his thigh, and he sucked in a breath as the cloth whispered over his hard length. But then, once again, she was gone.

“Other foot,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Madam, you are trying my restraint.”

“If I have to repeat myself, there will be consequences.” She raised a brow, challenging him to disobey, mischief dancing in her eyes. She obviously reveled in repeating his own words back to him, but the quick rise and fall of her breasts belied her cool demeanor.

“Rest assured, my lady, there will be consequences.” He said the words with quiet emphasis. Her eyes dilated as he stared into them, slowly lifting his other foot out of the water. Her lips parted slightly, and she blinked several times before visibly centering herself and returning her focus to the washcloth. After this bath, he was definitely going to have to remind her that it was she who’d taken a vow of obedience.

After washing and rinsing his foot, she locked her gaze with his before lifting his ankle and running the tip of her tongue along the entire length of his sole. A burst of pleasure shot straight to his groin.

“Dear god, woman.” Was it possible to climax without even having any direct stimulation? He just might find out if she kept this up.

Her mouth turned up in a mischievous grin as she began massaging with her thumbs, just as she had his other foot. It was heaven and hell all at once. After working her way slowly up his leg, the cloth feathered, once more, over his manhood, confirming that the last time had not been an accident. It was the only contact before the cloth moved up to his chest.

He snaked his hand around her neck, and she squealed as he pulled her mouth down to his, immediately plunging his tongue inside. He thought he’d regained the upper hand for a brief moment as she gasped for breath, but then she reached into the water, and her slippery fingers wrapped around him. He inhaled sharply as she began to slowly stroke his length, his free hand gripping the side of the tub.

“You need to stop, Belle.” He ground the words out between gritted teeth, but she didn’t stop. He was not going to spill his seed in the goddamn bathtub. He pulled her hand away and stood up, water splashing everywhere.

“Michael,” she gasped. “Sit back down.”

He shook his head and her hand landed with a stinging crack on his backside.

Michael barked a startled laugh. “Did you just spank me?” He spoke the words softly as he slowly turned to face her.

She folded her arms defiantly across her chest. “I haven’t washed your hair.”

“I don’t give a damn about my hair, little miss.” She took a step back and swallowed. “You’ve just earned the spanking I’ve been itching to give you all day long.”

As he stepped over the side of the tub she screamed playfully and ran through the door to his bedroom. His strides were much longer than hers, and he quickly had his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her firmly against him.

“Do you feel that?” He ground his eager erection against her bottom.

She nodded. “Yes, my lord.” Her voice was barely a whisper. He untied her skirts and let them fall to the floor.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, taking advantage of my vulnerable state, making me lose all control of my desire for you.” He bit her neck. Not hard enough to actually hurt her, but enough to make gooseflesh rise on her arms. Her pulse pounded against his tongue as he soothed the skin he’d bitten. He loosened the laces of her corset before turning her around to face him, trying his best to ignore the burning in his arm.

“I’m the one who administers the spankings,” he growled. He unhooked her corset and allowed it to fall to the floor. “Understood?”

Her throat moved as she swallowed, her breath beginning to tremble with anticipation. “Yes, my lord.”

He wanted her vulnerable and submissive, the way she’d been the first time he’d spanked her. Well, the first time she’d actually wanted him to spank her. He led her over and wrapped her hands around the bedpost.

“These don’t move from here,” he said, just as he had before. “Understood?”

“Yes, my lord.” This time, no fear shadowed her eyes, instead they shimmered with barely contained desire.

Michael guided her hips back until she was bent over, reaching for the bedpost over her head. Most of her bottom was covered by her drawers, and although last time he’d left them in place for her own comfort and his sanity, this time, he wanted them out of the way. He reached underneath her belly and untied them.

“Step out,” he said after pushing them to the floor. He kicked them away and quickly brought his hand down on her backside. Only the thin fabric of her chemise protected it now. A surprised gasp escaped her lips. She’d probably been expecting a bit more of a lead up.

“How many strokes do you think you deserve for parading around in your nightclothes in front of my friends?” His palm clapped hard against the other side of her bottom.

“I—I don’t know. I’m sorry, my lord. I won’t do that again.”

“Mmmm. That’s the right answer.” He pushed her chemise up over her back, bringing his hand down once more on each side of her now bare bottom. Pink began to stain the skin as he watched. Panting breaths signaled her excitement as he soothed and massaged the tender flesh.

“This body,”—he bent over her from behind, pushing his hands along her skin until her breasts filled both of his palms—“this body belongs to me. No one else gets the privilege of viewing it.” He rolled both of her nipples firmly between his fingers, forcing a tormented moan from her throat. “Understood?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, my lord.”

“Good girl,” he growled in her ear before straightening. He nudged her feet apart and rubbed his throbbing length against her slick folds. Her body trembled and her breathing hitched as she rocked her sensitive nub against him begging him for more. Tonight, he was finally going to do what he’d so longed for the last time she was bent over at the foot of his bed.

He plunged into her, burying himself in her body.

“Yes,” she sighed, pushing back against him.

Pleasure hurtled through his body as he took her. Her moans escalated with each thrust, pushing his own pleasure higher and higher.

“Harder, Michael!”

He pounded into her, their bodies slapping. Her legs began to shake, and he knew she was close. Thank God, because he was barely holding on, himself.

“That’s it, love. Come for me.”

She did. Screaming out her pleasure as her body contracted around him. He gripped her hips with all his remaining strength, and with a roar, his own orgasm battered him. Wave after wave of pleasure exploded through him. His body depleted of its strength, he was barely able to keep them both upright.

Slowly, he reached his good arm beneath her and helped her to stand, pulling her tightly against him.

“Good girl,” he purred, lazily running his tongue up the side of her neck.

* * *

Michael woke just before dawn, Belle’s arm draped across his chest. He could happily stay like that for the rest of the day. Somehow, this beautiful, wonderful, delicious woman was his wife. God, his passions were already stirring just thinking about how he’d taken her before they’d collapsed into bed. Unfortunately, he couldn’t just laze about with his wife all day. But as soon as they tracked down the son of a bitch who’d shot him, and dispensed justice, he was determined to spend some time doing just that.

Carefully, he extricated himself from her embrace and slid out of bed. He was going to need some strong coffee to get through the day, but first, there was the matter of washing his hair. He smiled remembering why it hadn’t been washed last night. Somehow, she was the perfect wife for him. He would have been bored with a meek little mouse. But that was certainly not Belle.

She didn’t submit to him out of fear. She was every bit as aroused by receiving his spankings as he was by administering them, and was happy to embrace it. In the short time they’d been married, she had grown from an innocent, petulant child, into this glorious woman. Or perhaps it was only his perception of her that had changed, and she had always been glorious. His heart seemed to swell inside his chest. Was it with pride? Gratitude? He let out a long sigh. It was both of those things… and more.

What could be better than falling in love with one’s wife?