Because I’ve been called a tease, I’ll move this story along. Just a little.
Clara was still blushing a day later. Even as she scrubbed the daily wash, leaning over the pot in the kitchen, she couldn’t get yesterday out of her mind.
The sudden heat she felt had nothing to do with the pot she was leaning over. She could still feel his fingers caressing the plump lips of her cunny. Her core quivered as though desperate to grip his phantom fingers as they thrust deep inside. He’d tended to her heavy breasts with his hand, kneading and plucking at her nipple through the fabric until she was writhing in his lap. The way she’d flown apart in his arms was utterly shameful. The way she’d moaned like a bitch in heat when he’d set her aside made her feel the fool. He didn’t even take his own pleasure from her.
She’d managed to pull herself together and scurried off like the scared mouse she was, hiding until she slipped out for mass.
It had been quite difficult getting through Mass last evening with her face flushed with the reminder of recent pleasure. The priest had offered her sacrament and she’d shook as he placed the bread on her tongue, positive he knew of her wantonness. Her friend Darcy asked if she was okay the whole way back to the pews. It was apparent she wasn’t disguising her deeds well.
She avoided everyone’s eyes after that, opting to keep her head bowed in prayer. A mistake as her mind continued to replay the way he’d touched her.
As it was, her bottom and her cunny both ached from Mr. Davensport’s brand of relaxation. She didn’t have time to examine what it all meant or she’d never finish the wash!
The voice intruding into her scandalous thoughts drew a startled squeak from her.
“Darcy! Heaven’s sake, you nearly ended my life.” She drew a steadying breath to calm her heart.
The petite girl merely smiled before perching on the ledge near the hearth. “Well, I called out to you three times before you finally responded. You looked lost in your own world.”
Clara could feel the blush rising up her neck and worked to keep the direction her thoughts had taken off her face. Reaching for another sheet, she focused on scrubbing.
“Just tired. Didn’t sleep the best last evening.” Completely the truth considering how she’d tossed and turned all night.
“Should’ve joined me at the tavern.” Darcy’s voice grew breathy as she continued. “The whiskey was plentiful and the men more so. You would’ve had a lovely time with one or both. I’ll have to tell you about the magic Geoffrey can work with his tongue.”
Clara paused in her scrubbing when Darcy moaned softly. She didn’t have the faintest idea what she meant, but couldn’t bring herself to ask. Her innocence ran deep.
“Anyway, I was out tending the garden when Mr. Davensport returned early from church. God that man looks bloody good on a horse.” Darcy heaved a longing sigh. “He asked me to send you to his study.”
That stopped all of Clara’s activity. “What? Why?”
Darcy gazed at her as thought she’d gone insane. “What does it matter? He has need of you, that’s all I know.”
“But, but who will finish the wash? I’ve got to get it hung before too long or it’ll never dry by tomorrow.” She was getting worked up, her anxiety sparking at the random summons.
Darcy rolled her eyes as though the solution was simple. “I’ll finish. I’m done in the garden anyway. He’s asked for you and whatever he needed seemed urgent.”
She rose from her perch, pulling Clara to her feet and sitting before the pot without so much as a by-your-leave. Perhaps she felt it unnecessary, but Clara didn’t much appreciate the high-handedness. The other girl went right into sheet scrubbing, humming as though Clara had already left
Clara spun away, skirts swirling around her legs as she marched off. Her irritation carried her to the oak doors of Mr Davensport’s study before leaving her with nothing except a belly full of butterflies. Heaven, she was trembling.
Deep breathes, she coached herself. He simply needed her to do a chore of some sort and then she’d be back to her work. It was as easy as that in her mind.
Reminding her of that fact seemed to calm her anxiety. It made knocking on the heavy door an accomplishable thing.
“Come in.” His baritone drifted through the door and she drew courage as she entered in.
Mr Davensport – Travis, her mind whispered – was intent upon the paperwork before him. She moved to stand to the side of the desk, careful to remain quiet until he acknowledged her. It gave her the chance to admire his profile. His straight nose and full lips. The way his hair fell over his brow, the long lashes that brushed his cheeks with each blink. He was a perfectly assembled man, one she ached for more with each passing day.
“Have a seat, Clara.”
She jumped having once again been caught wool gathering, and scurried to the chair to the right of his desk set closer to the large bay window. He glanced up from his papers, his brow creasing when he spotted her.
“I need you closer.” He patted his desk before casting his eyes back down. “Sit here.”
She gaped at him. “But, Mr Davensport, it’s not proper.”
His eyes returned to hers and she froze at the heat in his gaze. “Clara, do as I say or I’ll be forced to administer another spanking sooner than you’re ready for.”
That made her hesitate. Some perverse part of her wanted to be spanked by him again. Her quim throbbed at the thought.
“Clara.” The warning was clear.
She approached his desk, eyeing the top. She’d look like a fool climbing up and her cheeks flamed. Before she could come to a decision on the least embarrassing way, he had a hold of her waist to hoist her up.
“Not that you’ve managed that task, on to why I’ve called you.” He sat his papers aside, focusing all his attention on her. “There is something I require of you.”
“Of me?” She squeaked out.
He turned in his chair so she was pinned totally by his gaze. “Yes you, Clara girl.”
The way he used that endearment did strange things to her insides. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Anything.”
His eyes turned feral for a second before he blinked it away. “I want to spank you again.”
“Oh?” She croaked out.
“Yes.” He grabbed her hips and slid her until he had her legs caught between his thighs. “I felt your enjoyment of the spanking. Do not deny it.”
She closed her mouth, knowing he’d felt the ready evidence of it the moment his fingers had sought out her cunny. If not before… The realization caused her face to flame anew. Clara ducked her head.
“Do not hide from me.” He grabbed her chin, raising her face until their eyes met.
“Is this proper?”
“Of course not. When have I ever been proper?” His smile, that smile that never failed to disarm her, appeared. Her insides melted and she could hardly refuse.
He must have seen her acquiescence because joy sparkled in his eyes. It made her perversely happy to know she pleased him in any way.
Clara shook herself out of the strange feeling. She needed to keep a level head and make sure she understood. Was this a one time thing or would he ask it of her often? When would he do it? Would others be able to see? That made her shudder. No others may watch and she had to make that clear.
Before she could express her concerns, his lips were upon hers. It took her by surprise, but she quickly melted in to it. A gentle kiss that became something more in an instant. It did something to her, having his lips touching hers, and suddenly she couldn’t think straight.
Clara let him pull her into his lap, his mouth still fastened to hers. Her thin dress offered no barrier against the press of his manhood in his trousers.
The way his tongue teased the seam of her mouth was playful until she opened then it was an erotic assault. His teeth nipped at hers and she rocked into him, loving the tiny bite of pain. Her breasts felt so heavy, her nipples begging for his touch. Clara pressed harder when his hands did cup her breasts, kneading her with the right amount of pressure.
“Oh, Clara girl, you’re perfect.” He whispered the words against her throat as she rocked her hips. “I want you to take your pleasure on me now.”
She barely understood his words, her brain too drugged by lust to register anything beyond wanting him inside her. Her climax hovered right on the horizon, just out of her reach.
“Please,” she begged, her hands reaching down to release him so he could fill her.
He gathered her hands in one of his, placing them behind her back. “No. I want you to come just like this. Find your pleasure, Clara.”
The command was clear and she was helpless to do nothing except obey. She rocked against him, canting her hips so the hardness of his cock rubbed her pearl. Each exhale was a whine of need as she sought her pleasure.
“That’s it,” he groaned into her ear. “That’s my girl. Take what you need from me. Only me. Come, Clara.”
He pinched her nipple hard and that touch sent her tumbling over the edge with a harsh sob. The counter rock of his hips into her held her in free fall. Stars danced in her vision as her body spasmed around nothing, unable to do anything save feel.
“Yes.” He groaned long right into her ear and she was dimly aware of him jerking beneath her.
When it passed, she slumped in his embrace, her head resting on his shoulder as he held her.
“Simply stunning, Clara girl. So obedient.” His praise sent ripples of happiness through her.
She breathed deep of his scent as he held her, lingering in the moment for as long as he’d let her. They were both silent for long moments before her nerves resurfaced.
“I must tend the house, Mr Davensport.”
He sighed and muttered something under his breath. Before she could rise, his hands lowered to her bottom, squeezing her flesh through her dress. “I will have you over my knee again, Clara. Understand?”
She shivered, whether in trepidation or arousal she wasn’t sure.
“Yes, sir.” Her body would give no other reply
She departed the room before she could throw herself at him.