Chapter 11

11

"Punish?" she whispered, and by God even that whisper on her lips sounded so delicious he ached to kiss it away.

Dorian stared at his beautiful, fragile wife, the candle illuminating her curves, which even a dressing gown and a night shirt could not hide. Never in his life had he imagined he'd wake up to his dog barking his head off, going mad at an intruder…

Who turned out to be a creature of curves and golden locks and perfect skin and wide, innocent eyes, and pink lips… Lips the taste of which he'd never forget as long as he lived.

And yet, this gorgeous little thing was unhappy?

He'd never considered she might be unhappy. Wouldn't anyone coming from her poor circumstances be grateful for a home where she no longer had to worry about food, a place where she would be safe and protected? He had rescued her family, done them a favor, and improved her station in life, her fortune, and those of her sisters.

He hadn't imagined that he had actually made her less happy—by the sound of it, quite miserable, in truth. She couldn't sleep, for God's sake.

And what were these demands about the garden? Why was it so important to her to go to that terrible place he'd contemplated burning to the ground?

But as he stared at her now, he could see that she did have dark circles under her eyes, and that the blush he'd seen at the soirée was much less prominent.

"Punish," he said when he could feel her lush body against his own, smell her rose scent tickling his nostrils.

Having a female here at all was new and strange. He'd never brought his lovers to the manor. The only females who entered his bedchamber were the maids and Mrs. Knight.

And now, his wife.

He swallowed hard, imagining her bent over his knee, her behind stuck in the air, bare flesh firm and rosy against his light slaps as she squirmed in pleasure.

Then his imagination shifted to a punishing coupling, where he'd pound into her relentlessly as she moaned and pleaded for more.

He nearly groaned, overwhelmed by his intense desire for this youthful goddess of beauty and light. He couldn't recall ever wanting anyone as much as he did her. Yet, he knew he couldn't simply impose his desires upon her.

Or could he?

What could he possibly do that would be a punishment to her when she already was lonely and miserable? When she already had nothing that she enjoyed here? So much so that she couldn't even fall asleep.

What could he do to discipline her but…be himself with her?

And what if, by some miracle, she would not be broken by his wrathful ways, whispered a voice in his head, sounding annoyingly like Lucien. What if, instead, she'd bloom?

Open up…?

Be pleased…?

No, of course that wasn't possible. He'd only hurt her and scare her. And perhaps then she'd leave him alone.

It would have to be her decision. He would never force himself or his ways on her, nor on any woman.

"But you have a choice," he murmured as he had to physically restrain his left hand not to go up and brush his knuckles against the side of her shoulder. "For the punishment, that is. Choice number one," he said as he marveled at the slight tremble in her eyelashes at that, "is you have to organize my library."

He thought that would be the easiest, and no doubt she'd choose it. Organizing the library was not really a punishment, just a bit of work. Definitely much better than the second option.

"Choice number two is a spanking."

She gasped, her cheeks flaming so red his cock twitched in reaction. "You would s-spank me?"

"Yes."

She swallowed, her eyelashes trembling, and the pink tip of her tongue briefly licked her lower lip. "W-would it hurt?"

He blinked. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"I am."

"Why?"

"Well, because I was never spanked. I need to know if it would hurt."

Good God, what had he done? What if she would enjoy his particular tastes? Had he just opened Pandora's box?

"It might. Would you like it to? "

She was so innocent; how could he corrupt her with his ways?

"No," she said, and laid her hand, very unexpectedly, on his chest, her thumb brushing his skin.

He sucked in his breath as the most delicious wave of pleasant tingles ran through him at her touch.

"No, I wouldn't like it to hurt," she said. "But then it wouldn't be a punishment, would it?"

He swallowed. She needed to be taught a lesson. He needed to show her how horrible a man he really was, so that she wouldn't want to be in his company, in his bed, or anywhere near him. So that she would leave him alone and wouldn't be a constant reminder of the sin he'd committed all those years ago.

He needed to scare her away, for her own good.

"Exactly. So, is it the library, then?" he asked.

"No," she said, "it's not the library."

She swallowed, and the blush that crept to her face was even stronger.

"I'll take the spanking, Duke."