Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

K issing Gerard was such an intimate experience for Seraphina. She had read about kissing in books, but nothing compared to the real thing.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders clinging to him as he plundered her mouth.

The fire bathed them in soft light, warming her flesh but Gerard's touch, his kisses heated her entire being. Her knees felt weak, and it was only his strong grip around her waist that kept her standing.

They drew apart, staring in each other's eyes. Gerard gave a half smile.

"I hope you don't think you can distract me with kisses. You better be ready to take your punishment."

Seraphina's heart beat accelerated. "I'm ready," she whispered.

He stepped back from her, raking her frame. She was dressed in a soft cotton nightgown, made transparent in the light of the fire.

"Take that off," he said hoarsely, pointing at her night gown.

Keeping her eyes on him, she trailed her finger down the side of her gown, twirling them slowly and gathering up material, revealing her leg slowly. He watched, without comment, appreciation in his gaze.

Swaying her hips gently, she pulled the hem of her night gown over them and watched his brain hitch. Crossing her arms, she grabbed her gathered night gown and flung it over her head before dropping it on the floor.

His breath hitched and he gasped, his eyes darkening with desire. Seraphina resisted the urge to cover herself up. Gerard's eyes traveled down her body, heating her up from the inside.

"Should I bend over?" she asked softly.

He looked startled for a moment before smiling. "Oh no. You don't need to do that this time. Just lay down on the bed."

She did as he asked her movements doubtful. Squirming a little to make herself comfortable, she widened her legs like an invitation.

Instead of taking it, he crossed over to her wardrobe and opened it. Taking hold of her feather boa, he plucked one long pink feather from it.

Twirling it in his hand, he slowly walked back to the bed, his eyes smiling.

He lifted her foot and examined it, then ran a nail right down the middle. She jerked trying to pull her legs away, but he held tight on to it.

"Ticklish, are you?" he asked evilly.

She shook her head frantically, "No, I'm not."

In truth she was very ticklish, so much so that her sister had used it more than once as a threat to get her way. Seraphina had to wonder if Gerard had been talking to Tessa.

He ran the tip of the feather down the middle of her foot as he had done with his nail. Her hips immediately lifted from the bed as she squirmed from side to side trying to get away from the sensation.

He ran the feather across the middle of her foot, and she giggled helplessly shooting to a sitting position and holding out her hand in an unconscious attempt to make him stop.

"Ah ah…" he wagged a finger at her, "I did not give you permission to sit up."

She sank slowly back down with an apology. He picked up her other foot and began to trace patterns upon the sole with the feather. Seraphina cried out, trying to keep still but unable to, her hands reaching out to him in supplication. "Please stop."

He paused and gave her a look. "Do you refuse your punishment?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, sir. I don't."

"Well then you will lie still and take it," he said sternly.

She swallowed hard and nodded, determined to keep still as he played with her ankle, tracing circles around the bone with the feather, and sending tingling spikes of arousal along the inside of her leg right up to her wet hot center.

She wanted to groan and arch her back, but she didn't have permission. She tried to focus on lying still and not on the jolts of sensation under her skin, which made her realize how this was a punishment.

The urge to beg and plead, to squirm, to groan, to caress her own skin in an effort to obtain some relief from the tingling prickles awakening her nerve endings was almost impossible to ignore.

"Stay still," he commanded, and she strove to do as he said.

He trailed the feather in a line from the jut of her ankle bone to the crease of skin separating her thigh from her intimate parts.

Seraphina bit her bottom lip.

She stared at him with pleading eyes, not knowing if she was pleading for him to stop or continue.

He kept hold of her gaze as he feathered along the sensitive flesh of her warm wetness, soaking the feather in her juices and making it impossible for her not to whimper at least.

"Hush. Take your punishment like a good girl," he said after he'd put a finger to his lips in a quelling gesture, his eyes stern.

She bit her bottom lip, willing her hips not to undulate in need. She spread her legs wider in invitation.

She could see how aroused he was from the tent in his breeches, but his face was a mask of careful blankness. Purely clinical concentration as he dug the feather into her belly button.

She drew in a breath, her flesh contracting to get away from the tickling sensation. He smiled, shaking his head in admonition. Her skin rippled, shivering and trembling from his touch.

She could see the desire in his darkened eyes, and she opened her palms in supplication, wanting him to come closer—cover her with his strong body, giving her own something to rub against.

But he remained elusive, looming over her, temptation incarnate, just out of reach. Her nipples peaked as he brushed the feather around them, getting harder and more sensitive with each sweep.

Seraphina began to pant, bosom heaving, her hips undulating of their own accord.

Gerard took his hand away. "I won't touch you if you cannot be still."

"I-I-I can't ," she protested weakly, her hands trembling.

Gerard took his hand away, crossing his arms and looking down at her expectantly.

"Well, that is unfortunate. I'll have to stop then," he said.

She let out a breath, focusing on lying still. "One more chance," she pleaded. "Give me one more chance."

He smiled, putting the feather aside. "Very well then; turn around, and I shall give you a more… traditional punishment."

She eagerly turned onto her stomach, presenting herself to him. He put one knee on the bed and leaned forward so he was looming over her.

She was still surprised when he smacked her buttocks but managed not to squirm. He spanked her nine more times, by the end of which her buttocks were tingling.

He got off the bed and began to undress, as she watched from the corner of her eye, not sure if she was allowed to move yet. When he was naked, his arousal prominent and apparent, he came to stand by the side of the bed, looking down at her with hungry eyes.

"Sit up," he ordered, and she hastened to obey.

She was surprised when he lay down, in the hollow where her body had been, squirming to make himself comfortable. He put his stared at her expectantly.

"Your turn," he said quietly.

Her eyes widened with surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

He smirked. "Sit on top, darling."

"Oh," she said clambering quickly onto him, and straddling him.

She placed her palms flat on his belly, looking him over and trying to decide where she would begin.

He was an unexpected feast offered to her, and she meant to savor it.

She ran her palms over his belly and chest, savoring the hardness of his muscles, encased in the smooth, silky, softness of his skin.

Leaning down, she kissed the valley of his chest, working upward to his clavicles, before biting down hard on his neck.

He gasped, jerking a little and then lay still. She looked up into his eyes, to gauge his reaction. He lay beneath her open and yielding, no hint of resistance anywhere. She took another nip at his flesh, living small bites all along his jaw. Next, she took his bottom lip into her mouth and suckling it before biting down as well.

Dizzy with this newfound power, she thrust her tongue into his mouth, kissing him hard and long. She was already dripping wet, and she rubbed her groin against his trying to get some relief from her demanding arousal. She moaned in his mouth, her hands flying down his arms, exploring wildly everywhere that she could touch.

She could feel his hardness digging against her soft flesh and paused, looking up at him.

"Can we…do it this way?" she asked, pressing down on him.

He smiled, and then reached between her legs, his hands fumbling with his hardness. She felt the tip pressing against her opening and gasped, widening her legs and keeping still so as to let him work.

He arched upwards, surging into her and then grasped her hips as they both breathed hard.

"Up…and down," he told her, matching actions to words as he lifted her hips and then pulled them down.

She cried out, mouth open, unable to believe how deeply she felt him. The muscles of her thighs bunched as she used them as an anchor to lift herself up and then drop herself on him; again, and again.

She let herself moan and cry out, her back arched, head thrown back, savoring the feeling of him beneath and around and inside of her.

His hands were like vices on her hips, and she knew he'd leave bruises. He helped her to rise and drop on him, his hips undulating in counterpoint.

It was like dancing, but immensely more pleasurable. The sounds punched out of their throats in perfect harmony added to the combination of sensations that drove her to an end she wasn't sure she was ready for.

The intensity of feeling was overwhelming, and it just kept growing and growing. She feared that when it burst, she would combust and scatter like debris, never again able to put herself back together.

Still, she could not quite reach that end point. She was floating on a plateau yet frustrated with the need for completion.

As though he sensed it, Gerard shoved his hand between them, using his thumb to stimulate her while he drove ruthlessly into her.

She gave a long cry, shuddering with reaction but still, could not find the edge.

"Come for me. Be a good girl and come for me," he commanded, and that was what she needed to fly.

She let out a loud cry as her body surrendered, coating Gerard's hand in juices as her flesh contracted around his and she shook and shivered to completion.

"That's it, good girl," he told her as she collapsed onto his chest, breathing hard.

Then, he put his arms around her and held her tight as he thrust deep inside her, and he bit into her neck as he came. His grip tightened even more as his member quivered inside her, filling her up.

Seraphina lifted her head to face him; his eyes were half-closed, intoxicated from his release.

He pulled her down and kissed her hungrily, moaning into her mouth.

She had never felt so exhilarated before.

"We should do that more often," she said as he pulled her off him and set her to this side.

He chuckled, "Now, now. I do not want you to forget who is in charge here."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she bit her lip.

"If you follow my orders like a good girl, perhaps I'll consider letting you ride me again," he said and squeezed her rear cheek with that.

"Then I shall be on my best behavior," she smirked, and he pulled her closer, wrapping her again in his arms.

"What a good little wife I've got," he muttered in her hair.

The flicker of the flames from the fire was hypnotizing as she stared into them, savoring the satisfied silence between them.

His hand slowly caressed her back, fingers making patterns she could not quite decipher, as they breathed together, their hearts dancing in tandem.

Seraphina's eyes fluttered closed, and she fell asleep.

Gerard woke up early, and was surprised to find that he could not feel his left arm. The warm weight currently laying on it let him know why.

He huffed in amusement shaking his head, as Seraphina's warm breaths ghosted against his neck.

She was still fast asleep, and he had no wish to wake her.

His mind drifted to the previous evening. He had known about his preferences in the bedroom for a while. Those preferences had been one of the reasons why he was reluctant to consummate after their wedding. Due to his dark desires, he was not sure how his new wife would take it.

It was an unexpected gift that she shared with the same predilections as he did.

He smiled feeling a bubble of happiness in his chest. He was sure than ever the prospects for a happy marriage high. It was not just the intimacy they shared, but also a sense of humor and adventure.

Gerard felt like more of himself than he had since inheriting the duchy. When he was with Seraphina, he did not feel the need to be the Duke of Irondale. He could simply be Gerard—the way that he was with Dorian and Leo.

How fortunate I am.