He’d came to her when she least expected it. She was in the middle of her early morning bath, the cold water soaking her thin shift as she hurried to ready herself for the day. The list of things required to keep the estate running was long so indulging in anything beyond a quick sponge was out of the question.
A knock on her door drew a frustrated moan from her before she could stop it. She’d turned into an irritable mess since that incident in Mr. Davensport’s office. Silly considering nothing had come of it. Weeks had passed and he’d been nothing except the polite man she’d come to respect.
And lust after.
Clara set the rag down, making sure to wrap herself in her old dressing gown before moving to answer the door.
“Good morning, Clara girl.”
She blinked rapidly, surprised to find Mr. Davensport standing in the entryway. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out what he was doing here. He was dressed in his usual tailored suit, looking ready to do business even at this early hour. Clara was too flustered to get words out.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” He sounded grave as though he had something of import to tell her and her only.
She blinked again before backing up to allow him entrance.
The room seemed to shrink as he invaded in her space. Not that there was much room to begin with, her single bed and dresser filling half the allotted space anyway. She saw the room through his eyes, not missing the way he hummed as he looked around. Embarrassment colored her cheeks as she realized how shabby her things truly were compared to his. Considering she was little more than a servant, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Clara stiffened her spine and refused to let her station make her appear weak.
“Can I help you, Mr. Davensport?”
Her voice was far sharper than she’d meant, and when his eyes zeroed in on her she gulped at the fire in the blue depths. She started to stutter out an apology, but his words stopped her.
“I need to take you over my knee now, Clara.”
Clara’s mouth snapped shut. It took her a moment before she could form a suitable response.
“Now? But… But, I have to begin morning chores shortly.”
His eyes narrowed for a moment, the fire in those depths burning brighter in the low light filtering in the room. He made a sound that rumbled in his chest before he advanced on her. She bumped into the bed, falling on to her bum as he hovered over her.
“I will never force you to do anything.” He took a breath, his hands clenched at his side. “But I need…”
He stopped, his eyes closing briefly. The tick in his jaw made something turn in her belly. Clara didn’t think for a second he’d force her, but something about the imposing figure he cut made her extra alert to every move he made. He looked pained and everything in her wanted to soothe him.
She relaxed her death grip on her robe and reached for his hand. “What do you need, Travis?”
His eyes snapped open, his gaze holding hers. “I need you, Clara.”
Her breath caught. The need brought her body to life.
“I tried stopping myself from coming to you after that… Moment in my office. I wanted to give you a chance to think about what you agreed to.” He turned his hand to catch her smaller one. “But I can’t wait anymore. I need to have you over my knee again. Now.”
Clara sensed there was more to his request, but the intensity of his plea woke something in her. That need to please him bubbled up in her stomach until it filled her whole body with warmth and she found herself nodding in earnest. The smile that broke out over his face reached to his eyes, warming them until they sparkled.
He took a step back from the bed, dropping her hand. “Remove your dressing gown and lie back on the bed.”
“Lie back? But how are you to…” Heat hit her cheeks and she glanced away.
“Clara, please.” The husky urgency made her move.
She shed her gown, gasping as the cool air chilled the damp fabric clinging to her skin. Her cheeks burned hotter as she lay back, knowing the thin shift hid nothing from his eyes. She closed her eyes, too embarrassed to stand it.
He sounded strained when he finally spoke again. “Good girl. Lift your shift up above your breasts.”
Her eyes popped open. “Mr. Davensport!”
“Clara.” It was a command and a plea in one.
She searched his gaze for a long moment, looking for what she wasn’t sure. After wrestling with her reluctance, she reached for the hem, yanking it up and resting it on her chest. Her thighs quivered and her breasts jiggled with every rapid breath she took, but it was his strangled groan that sent electricity to her lower belly.
“Spread your legs and touch yourself for me.”
The order jolted her, sending a flood of heat through her body. Good God, surely he didn’t mean for her to do… That. Clara couldn’t decide if she was mortified or unbearably aroused.
She turned her head to find him vibrating with tension. Fists clenched by his side, he looked ready to pounce upon her. More than that, his cock strained the line of his trousers to the bursting point. Everything about him seemed poised to take her. Instead of being frightened by the look in his eyes, it seemed to have a relaxing effect on her.
“Yes, Mr. Davensport.”
Spreading her legs a little, Clara used tentative fingers to touch, unsure of how to do it. Finding herself so wet was a shock, but more so was discovering how good it felt to touch that secret nub at the top of her lips. Soon the shyness fell away as sensations whipped through her, causing her back to arch and quiet moans to spell from her lips.
“God in heaven.”
Clara was too caught up in her pleasure to make sense of his words. The touch of his hand on her thigh made her shudder, her legs parting wider in welcome.
“I have to touch you.”
He brushed her hand away, cupping her briefly before plunging two thick fingers deep inside. Her protests at being stopped died on her lips with a high squeak as he filled her. She fisted her sheets, murmuring his name.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he withdrew and thrust back in.
The urge to touch him was too much to ignore. She reached for the fastenings of his trousers, undoing them before he could utter a single protest. Reaching in, her chilled fingers found hard silky skin. She refused to let her mind take over, pulling him from the confines of the fabric before she lost her nerve.
He stood thick and proud between the open fastenings. Clara could only hold him, her focus riveted to his hand thrusting inside her. His hand wrapping around her, guiding her up and then down his hardness gave her an idea what he liked. When he let go, turning back to her pleasure, she matched the rhythm of his hand between her thighs. Her free hand strayed to her breast, tweaking her nipple until her her core tightened.
“God, Clara. You’ve no idea what you do to me.”
Some streak of feminine power wrapped around her as she rolled her hips and swirled her fingertips around the wet head of his cock. When he jerked into her fist, she did it again on the up stroke.
Her climax took her by surprise. Going from a coil in the depths of her body to exploding out over every inch of her being from one breath to the next. She cried out his name as she arched against his hand, her thighs gripping tight around his arm.
So caught up in her own throes, Clara didn’t realize he reached his own end until warm liquid splashed out over her breasts and stomach. She continued her stroking, enjoying the spasm of his body, until he grasped her hand to still its movement.
“Enough.” He sounded drugged, looked it as he stared down at her. He drew in a ragged breath, letting it go in a long blow before he continued. “Roll to your stomach.”
She did so, not caring that she rubbed his spend on her sheets. Clara buried her face in her goose pillow and waited for his hand to connect with her bottom.
Silence fell then. The anticipation growing and feeding her lust as she held her breath. Her hips wiggled almost unconsciously in need. She wanted him to spank her. Needed to feel him warm her skin.
His hand did make contact, but not to strike her. He simply held her flesh in his hand, squeezing and kneading her until she trembled.
“I think it would be best if this waited until this evening.”
She turned her head, surprised at his change of heart. When she did, she found his member had returned to its previous hardness and his jaw clenched.
Clara shook her head in confusion. “But you said you needed to spank me, Mr. Davensport.”
“My control is thin this morning.” He took a step back, releasing her. “Come to my chambers after dinner. Do not be late, Clara.”
He tucked himself away before leaving her laying in stunned silence.