Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

AUGUSTA

I pace about my room as I keep shifting a glance over at the secret door. It doesn't open. Should I be grateful or disappointed? Honestly, the entire affair is not exactly how I would want it. Something feels not quite right, but I can't put my finger on it.

Aunt Amelia, of course, is overjoyed. Any admonishment she gave me was swallowed up in wedding preparations. Somehow, I failed to realize a scandalous wedding also meant not having the wedding I wanted and desired.

Slumping over onto the bed, I crawl to the other side and let my head dangle a bit so I can stare down at the floor. Thankfully, this position allows me to keep my bottom upright so as to not cause any more undue soreness. My mind absolutely refuses to settle down despite a spot of tea and some warming chocolate. If only Portswell had looked just a little bit happy.

But no. His face was as stern as ever. In fact, I'm sure there was a frisson of anger wafting off of him. Not that I can blame him. I'm sure this isn't how he wanted to go down the aisle, either.

But once we're wed, he'll have no choice but to see just how right we are together. I just know it. All he has to do is give our union a chance.

Was I too hasty with my plans? Did desperation make me take a misstep? As happy as my aunt is, I can't help but feel guilty. All of this is a lie, of course. To my knowledge, there is no understanding between the duke and my brother. And with Greyson being out of town, what does that mean for my wedding?

A love-sick sigh drifts from my lips as I toy with the blanket beneath my fingers. Granted, it's not the actual wedding I want. Not really. Though I will mourn its absence, I'm sure my new husband will more than be able to make up for it.

"Perfect. Exactly how I want you."

Before I can so much as move or even utter a scream in alarm, a thick wad of fabric slides between my lips to silence everything. Strong hands grip my shoulders and turn me over. Heat blossoms through my body despite the pain surging through my backside at the unwanted contact.

There, in all his furious glory, is Portswell. He glares down at me as he presses me against the bed and straddles my lower half so I can't move. Something strong and hard juts against me, grinding against my thigh as he pins me there. But I don't dare look.

"Well met, future wife," he growls, running his hand under my hip to squeeze my poor, abused bottom.

A grunt of pain flits through the air, muffled by the gag. But then, he doesn't need to hear it to know what he's doing to me. With a glare, he switches to the other side, ensuring I'm even in my agony.

"How long have you and Lord Harhall been plotting this little coup? I will have the truth."

With the gag in my mouth, it's difficult to convey my answer. I shake my head, desperate to let him know it wasn't long. He leans back and stares at me, his expression taking on a different note. Unexpectedly, he slides his fingers down the swell of my cheek, caressing me as if trying to give me comfort.

"Do not fear me, little minx," he finally sighs. "In truth, it's probably best we are forced into this union. When your brother said you were no trouble, I believed him. But we both know that is inaccurate, don't we?"

There's something in his voice, something that calls to me and demands I curl at his feet and listen to everything he says. It catches my attention, but worse, my longing. Unable to resist the allure, I arch up my hips, desperate to relieve the ache building inside of me.

"You're shameless, you know," he chuckles, trailing his finger down my abdomen. "You trap me into a marriage, and then you think I should help you alleviate your discomfort? I think not."

I widen my eyes as best I can, taking on an air of feigned innocence. As I shake my head, he grips my jaw, arresting the movement. "Do not lie to me, minx. I will tolerate nearly any other sin against me, but I will not accept any lies from you."

After a few seconds, he brings his fingers back down, brushing them ever so gently against the fabric of my night rail. "I bet you're just soaking wet right now, aren't you?"

For a moment, I try to figure out the best response. Though I don't wish to lie to him again, the act of admitting my failing is far more embarrassing. Eventually, I nod and look away, refusing to meet his heated gaze.

"And you wish for me to touch you intimately? To take away this discomfort?"

Again, I nod, my insides coiling to the point of pain. His sigh flits through the air as he lifts off of my body. Cool air rushes in between us, chilling me as I lie there, missing the warmth and weight of his body against mine. Before I have a chance to fully mourn the loss, he springs into action. ‘

With a strong grip, he digs his fingers into my thighs and pulls me across the bed until my bottom touches the edge without spilling over. My legs hang there, limp as I try to make sense of the emotions rioting through me.

"Move from this spot, and I will stop. Are we understood?"

This time, I meet his heated gaze and nod, my body on fire with the need for him to extinguish these feelings.

His eyes never leave me as he runs his hands down my legs and slides my night rail up and over my hips, baring my shame to his hungry sight. Deep down, I know he doesn't mind, but there's still something so forbidden, so wrong in having him see me drip upon the sheets like this.

"You will hear me now, Augusta. Only good girls get pleasure from my hands, my mouth, and my cock upon their lovely quims. Have you been a good girl?"

Tears prick my eyes as desperation laces every breath. Unfortunately, I have to shake my head. Nothing about my actions has been good or honorable. And now, I must suffer the consequences.

"Thank you for being honest. I'd so hate to have to punish you again while your backside still blazes from yesterday's lesson. Now then, bring your knees up and spread them wide. I wish to inspect the chit who would make me a husband."

Shame burns my face as I turn from him.

"No. You do not get to hide from me. Not now. Not ever. Look at me as you expose yourself."

I long to bite down on my lower lip, but the gag keeps my mouth agape. Inch by inch, I do as I'm told until his scalding breath washes over the most sensitive part of me.

"My, my. Such a needy little clit." His fingers slide over the taut bundle of nerves, causing everything to jerk up. With a hard smack, he brings his fingertips down on top of me, only making the heat burn hotter. "Remember, my bride-to-be, do not move. Or do I have to lash you down to the bed?"

I'm not sure what expression crawls over my face, but his own lights up. "I see. I'll have to remember some rope next time."

Soft whines pour from my throat as he torments me, stroking my flesh with a touch so light I barely feel it. It's agony unlike any I thought he could give me. As much as I have the desire to arch up into his touch, I refrain, remembering the threat of his words.

I don't want him to stop. Not now. Not ever. Unfortunately, despite how still I hold, he pulls away, leaving me bereft.

"That's enough of that. I have the arousal I need to make this punishment stick."

His fingers trail a little bit lower, following the fluid dripping from me as steadily as any stream. He gathers it on his fingertips and smears it around my bottom hole. I groan as I drop my head back against the pillows. Not this again. Thankfully, not a bit of ginger is in sight.

However, that doesn't stop him from touching the part of me that's most shameful.

"No, no, pretty girl," he chides, pulling his thick digit back. "Remember, you're going to watch me as I punish this naughty hole. Once you're a good girl for me, and we're officially wed, I'll pleasure you in a far more conventional way. But for now, you must watch me in silence while you suffer your fate."

The moment our gazes lock, he slides a finger deep inside the forbidden entrance, dragging a ragged moan tickling the back of my throat. Thankfully, with the gag in place, it comes out like the softest of whimpers. Down in my soul, however, I feel it like a full-body shudder.

When he pulls out his finger, he grits his teeth as he slides in two. The stretch threatens to steal my breath. It's just a bit of a tighter fit than the ginger. My eyes threaten to roll back into my skull as he pumps in and out, moving his fingers in a way that stretches me open even further.

Blazes his forbidden touch feels so good, so illicit, so… naughty. Perhaps being bad has its perks after all? Soft grunts slam against the gag as he pumps in and out, making my body burn for him.

Pulling out, he adds yet one more, stretching me until my breath comes in a wheeze. Too much. It's too much. But he holds me in place, not allowing me to pull my body off of the invasion of his fingers. He continues to torment me, forcing me to accept him in this dark place.

Everything coils tightly within me as his fingers piston in and out, but it's not enough. It's nowhere near enough. Groaning, I bite down into the wad of fabric as frustration washes over me, nearly drowning me. But still he continues.

I ache.

I burn.

I yearn.

I desire.

And yet, he refuses to give in. He refuses to allow me the one thing I so desperately crave. That is, beyond the love and admiration I so deeply desire.

Finally, he removes his fingers and eases in between my thighs. Sweat shines on his brow, no doubt mirroring my own. Perhaps now he'll give me what I truly need. Perhaps I was good enough for my release. Even if not at his hand, but at my own.

"I must cleanse my fingers, my little minx. Do not move."

I don't dare. The instant the mattress dips as he leaves, I follow his movements. His hands are swift as he cleanses them, taking barely any time before coming back. With a slow tug, he removes the gag and sets it off to the side.

"After our little interlude is completed, I must make my way to the Archbishop of Canterbury for a special license. I will not allow a scandal to follow our names. Until we are wed, you will do everything in your power to convince the Ton that ours truly is a love match. Do not make this worse for either of us."

"And if I do," I croak, writhing a touch on the bed. "Will I be your good girl? Will you give me what I need?"

His gaze turns serious as he leans down and brushes his hand against my head. "What you did, my little minx, was a very dangerous game. If it had been…" His voice trails as his vision seems to blur, drifting off. "If Lord Harhall had double crossed you, then what?"

"But, Your Grace, he didn't. He-"

"That's beside the point. If the timing was off just by a mere second or two, you would have been shackled to him instead of me. You weren't thinking. At least not rationally."

"No, Your Grace," I murmur, my body humming with unmet desire. "I wasn't thinking. But I am now."

He shakes his head and skims my thigh with his hand. "You're not thinking. You only want a relief from this torment. I shall not grant it to you. As part of your penance, I will not give you the pleasure you seek. Nor are you to receive it by your own hand."

My jaw drops as I stare at him in horror. "But it's not as if you'll know."

His dark chuckle drips over my skin like rain pelting my body. "Oh, I'll know. I will always know. Do this for me. Show me how obedient you can be, and your wedding night will be all you wished and more."

"How on earth do you know what I wish?"

"Because, even now, your hips jut up to meet my hand. Your body craves release, and I assure you, yours will be explosive. However, test me in this, relieve yourself without my permission, and you will pay dearly on your wedding night. Are we agreed?"

As much as the man aggravates me, it seems as if I have no choice. I extend my hand to shake on it when he knocks it out of the way.

"As my future wife, I will have your agreement in a far different way."

Before I can ask him to clarify, he threads his fingers through my hair and brings my mouth up to meet his. His lips slant over mine, searing me with a deep kiss. My heart pounds in my chest as he coaxes my mouth open, allowing his tongue to slip inside.

Far too soon, he pulls away. "Seems to me the best way to keep you agreeable is to keep you in a state of massive need. You will, no doubt, rue the day you ensnared me, minx."

With another quick kiss, he pulls away and darts out through the secret entrance. My body burns as he disappears from sight, leaving me alone. I don't dare touch any part of my body or the need will become far too much. Turning over onto my stomach, I cover my head with a pillow and scream into the mattress.

Our wedding cannot come soon enough.