Chapter 8

She looks like a child at a sweetshop.

Following her as they ambled down the Great Walk, Julius watched her head swing this way and that, taking in all the sights from the rotunda to the Pillared Saloon on the left and the Grove, her mouth partly open in wonder.

He had to make sure she did not take a turn and ended up in the Grand South Walk and the Lovers Walk beyond that. She looked down at the pamphlet with the map on it but turned in the wrong direction for the Chinese Pavilion.

"This way," he rested a hand on the small of her back and steered her the other way. "We need to find out seats before they're taken."

She allowed him to steer her through the majestic gates and up the tower and found their sears at the viewing scaffold.

He swallowed as his fingers nearly brushed her generous backside or just around her rounded hips that were made for a man's hands to hold onto. Last night, the temptation to kiss her had clawed at his gut but after letting her see those men and women at the club, he knew it would only confuse her more.

She sat and pulled out her fan while he took a analytical look around the room, trying to spot any danger or suspicious persons around. Most of the attendees were other ladies with their husbands, two elderly widows and a group of lords that he could bet half of his fortune were only passing time until they would slip away to the Lovers Walk that night.

Still, he sat and felt reassured at the feel of dagger sheathed in smooth leather he hid in his boots rub against his ankle.

The performance begun rather tamely with the acrobats twirling batons and flicking through hoops and progressed to balancing three teacups on his nose whilst juggling apples and riding on horseback.

The tightrope act had Louisa anxiously grabbing for his hand and he held it tight, then came the sword dance. The acrobats leaped from tiered bamboo stumps wielding wicked swords, mock-playing a battle with choreographed near misses and hits. Fog, made from tubs of hot water heating block of ice made the whole scene magical.

At the end, the pavilion burst into applause and Julius had to grudgingly see what the Marquess had raved about, but it was time to leave.

As he said so, Louisa arched a brows. "Had we not agreed on seeing the Waterfall? We'd agreed."

Plucking a watch from his inner pocket, Julius noted, "It is five in the afternoon. The Cascade opens at nine."

"Then I suppose we find something to entertain ourselves and pass the times," she said sassily, turning away, waving the map. "Won't we?"

Even though her feet throbbed with discomfort for walking half the park, Louisa found an odd enjoyment at having Julius trail behind her, acting part vigilant bodyguard and part exasperated husband.

Even from a distance, he could see the twin lines of annoyance between her brows as they finally arrived at the Cascade viewing point. He had been surly at the Supper Boxes, spearing the thin slices of ham with more force than he needed.

He'd been restless at the Turkish Tent and agitated the Octagon Rooms but not at the Cascade he was decidedly tempestuous. As majestic as the Waterfall was, its magic was slightly marred by the tick jumping in Julius's jaw.

"There," he said as the curtain drew together. "It's finished."

"I've decided to see the Fireworks," she announced boldly, knowing that this was not agreed upon but took the chance anyway, turning to the walkway. Her tone was partly dismissive and partly sassy. "Come if you want but I am not missing it."

"Louisa," he growled out, but she was gone, following the sounds of the gay crowd faded into the distance.

The ever-deepening dimness took on a surreal quality and the air was sultry against her skin. In the clearing, she stood and trained her gaze to the sky as erupted with color, red bled into oranges, blues turned into purples and icy flowers danced in the skies.

Looking around, she realized Julius was not there but assumed he was behind her somewhere, lurking in the shadows.

With that assumption fixed in her mind, she continued watching the fireworks—but one of the cannons misfired and bedlam erupted. Instead of the peaceful and delighted gasps, screams took their place.

A sea of strange faces flooded past her and he felt herself being pushed forward and pulled back as people rushed away and alarm rose simultaneously in her chest.

She felt like she was struggling against the tide of movement, like a fish battling upstream yet still slipping back. The cloying scents of ladies' perfume. liquor from me and unwashed bodies from others made her nauseated. Raw panic clawed her insides as she struggled desperately to get free. She felt the increasing suffocation of the mob.

Louisa could not draw breath enough to scream when a hard arm was wrapped around her waist. She felt herself being hauled against a strong form. Powerful arms lifted her from the ground into a bridal carry and felt weak with relief at Julius' rescue.

She knew this because of his scent: that distinct scent of his cologne had permeated her senses, that musky-spicy scent was uniquely him. He carried in another way they had come, through a walk where thick canopy of giant elms and dense foliage of bushes provided ample opportunity for trysts.

With her head pillowed under his neck, she spotted a woman being tugged into a thicket of dense hedges. She tilted her head up and swallowed in apprehension; she had not realized a person could look apoplectic in the moonlight. Yet above the pristine cascade of his cravat, Julius's face was a fixed in flint, his lips a flat and bloodless.

A footman jumped down and opened the door for Julius to step into the carriage, dumped her into the seat and growled, his eyes darker than the night. "When we get home, I will make sure you never do anything like that again."

"Meaning?"

"Remember what I said about being defiant having no place in this arrangement?" Julius' voice was rough, "I am going to show you what I mean."

The moment they stepped foot in the town house, Julius ordered her. "Go your bedroom now."

His tone broke no room for argument, but she tried anyway. "Julius?—"

"Now," he ordered her. They were standing nearly toe to toe, neither backing down. Her defiance, her clean, feminine scent maddened him. His fingers flexed with the urge to shake her for being so stubborn and not seeing the danger he did. "Put your robe on. I will be there soon."

She made to speak but closed her mouth quick and hurried off, while she went off, he strode to his guest room and to the chest he had carried from the estate and pulled a few items away from the chest.

Straightening, he got himself under control and strode to her room, mind decided on what Louisa's punishment would be.

He found her standing by a open window, the fireplace roaring high and the golden-red light and she looked

"Close your eyes." He walked around the bed and plucked up a discarded neckcloth from the bed wide-eyed and wondering.

"Tonight," he stuck a finger inside the knot of his cravat and begun to untie it. "You pushed me to the limits of my patience, Louisa and for your safety and my peace of mind, you will not do it again."

Her pupils dilated. She bit her lip and looked worried. Finally.

"Vauxhall is dangerous." He said. "Being sassy is one thing, putting yourself in the path of peril is another."

She notched her head up. "You must understand that had to be an off occurrence. I hardly such mayhem with the cannons happens regularly."

His teeth ground. "More defiance. What I want you to do is make responsible choices, and being at Vauxhall is not one of them. Then, you pushed your chances by going off to see something we had not agreed on."

"I wanted to have fun."

"And I allowed it for as long it could go on but the danger that erupted made me feel like ants were crawling under my skin," Julius replied. "You have to meet my halfway, Louisa."

"Are you going to... punish me?"

"Yes, now turn around."

Before he wrapped the silk around her eyes, his eyes searched every inch of her expression, desperate to read the answer he wanted. He needed her to give herself to him, put her body in his hands.

She looked apprehensive but eager he would take that as it was. "You will have to trust me."

He watched her as her shoulder lifted, time seemed to pause, and her breath came out slowly, "I do," she finally said in a shaky breath, the muscles in her shoulders loosening.

Placing the silk around her eyes, he tied it behind her, shutting out the world. To his surprise, she lifted her chin and while her nervous swallow showed her anxiety she didn't shy away.

"I will remove your wrapper now," he said, before pulling the tie of her robe away and allowed the flouncy mass slip to the ground. His teeth did grind a little at the massive shapeless gunny sack she had on as a nightgown but decided that conversation was due for another day.

"Get on the bed, on your hands and knees, and place your hands on the headboard," he said, and there was the demand in his voice. She shivered.

Turning to the tested bed, she reached out, fingers flitting over the edge of the bed, feeling around before she lifted upon the bed and shifted to the headboard. While she did so, he removed the tie of his robe and pulled it between both hands.

The bed dipped as he joined her and grasping both hands, he held both of them in one of his large hands, then wound the length of silk around her wrists, tied the ends together so her hands were bound to the post in front of her.

For her to put herself into his hands like this, to trust him so much, made him feel godly. His hands swept lower and smooth over the nip in her waist, over the contours of her arse through her cotton gown and down to the edge where it met her thighs.

He lifted the back of the dress up her back and traced around her middle until he found the tie of her undergarment and unknotted it. Slowly dragging the undergarments down, he revealed inch after inch of her luscious bottom. He trailed his fingers down one round cheek. She was perfect.

Stroking his hands up and down her calves, he gripped her ankles and gently pulled her legs apart. Cool air from the window washed over her hot exposed flesh. He trailed his hands over her skin again, making sure she was comfortable with his touch.

"I will touch you now," he said, sliding his hand beneath her and expecting her to be lukewarm, but she was wet and slick. She moaned softly, and he stroked her, feeling her body shiver and her velvety quim grew slicker.

A hiss escaped her, and he trailed his finger up to her nub, rubbing and petting as if in approval. With her hands trapped, her fingers flexed and dug into her palms as sharp whimpers fell from her lips.

He worked her slick, swollen nub, rubbing, pinching, over and over until she was a trembling mess. Firelight lit the planes of her beautiful face, the parted lips, the red on her cheeks. A weak cry tore from her as the riotous sensations peaked.

He pulled away.

On his knees between hers, her rested both hands on her bottom. "Your disregard for your safety troubles me and you must be careful. Do you understand?"

Louisa nodded but he needed more. "Say that you do."

"Y-yes." She stuttered.

"You will count out each stroke to yen and say, I will be safe. That is all you have to do, and rest is my responsibility. Do you understand, Louisa?"

Her hips shifted. "Yes. I understand."

Not giving her time to second-guess her decision, he lifted a palm and brought it down with a solid smack against her right cheek. Louisa gasped out a cry and her body jolted at the impact.

"One," she said.

"There is more," he demanded. "Say it."

She bit her lip. "I will be safe."

"Good," he said. "Do not forget it again."

Tempering his strength, before struck her left side.

Her bosom surged, "Two. I will be safe."

With each strike growing harder than the one before him, he made sure to smack a different area of her bottom with each snap of his wrist. She never failed to count for him and her repeat of I will be safe was getting stronger and more definitive every time the word left her lips.

By the fifth strike, Louisa began rocking her hips, reaching out to anticipate the next blow, the movement slight but unmistakable. Her voice became more and more breathless as she repeated the words. Slipped a hand between her legs again, he found her drenched wet.

My little bird is aroused by this, by my dominance.

His balls felt heavy, and his length ached with need. Julius pressed his lips to her ear, while his fingers teased her wet folds. Teasingly, Julius let his fingers whisper over her opening, circling the slick entrance before retreating back to her plump bottom. "I will reward you after you take all the strikes. You are doing so well, little one."

The sound of the slap rang out and the words she had to say left her mouth in a needy gasp. Another smack rained down on her cheek and she thrashed against his hold, but not to escape. He continued the spanking, relentless and the heat on her bottom increased until her skin felt on fire but never failed to drag a whimper from her mouth.

"Last one," he said, then laid the last, searing slap on her bottom, but kept his hand there to caress the hurt away,

He did away with the tie holding her to the headboard and wrapping a hand around her middle, Julius rolled to his haunches and pulling her with him. Pulling the pearls at her neck he dipped in and cupped her breast, which felt so heavy and swollen with desire. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, pinching and then soothing them with tender caresses of his moistened thumbs.

With his knees, he opened her legs widened and open and caressed her soft folds, and rational thoughts fled. She moaned; her body already slick with her arousal.

He ran his fingers through her wetness, his touch edgy, and she cried out as he thrust a fingers into her, deep and hard. A cry tore from her throat. Wildness overtook her, and she gripped his hair, pushing her fingers through its silky thickness. He added a second finger.

With each inward plunge his palm rubbed her swollen nub between her legs while he rolled her nipples between his fingers, pinching and then soothing them with tender caresses of his moistened thumbs.

"Spend for me, now."

His command was a key to a lock in her mind and it sprung the tight coil. Throwing her head back to his shoulder, she screamed and splintered around him, wetness gushed from her. Her body shivered and shuddered, but he kept on teasing her tight nipple and stroking her velvet walls through it, prolonging her pleasure.

When her body became lax, and her breathing calmed, he gently extricated his fingers from her body and undid her blindfold, making sure to note the expression in her eyes. As they blinked open, Louisa eyes were hazed with satiety and orgasmic lethargy and pride tightened his chest.

"Do you understand now?" he asked.

"Yes…" Louia met his gaze, her cheeks flushed.

He brushed his lips to her temple, "We'll talk again in the morning. Go to sleep, Louisa."

This time he leaned down and captured her mouth before easing her off his lap and laying her on the bed. Moving from the bed, he fixed her bodice again and tugged the sheet over her. "You'll rest easy tonight."

Shifting on the pillow, she asked, "Will you join me?"

"Not on the bed, no," he replied, moving a thick lock from her eyes. "But I will be near."

Her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted in a sigh, "As you wish."