With her skirts up around her waist again, Cynthia planted her feet into the bed and lifted her weight off of her poor bottom, arching her hips up so that it hovered above the bed sheets. Reaching one hand into the low bodice of her dress, she squeezed her breast as her other hand immediately went to that forbidden area between her thighs.
This might be her very favorite "don't" in all the world, she thought as she began to stroke and fondle the soft folds she found there. They were already wet, soaked in fact, from her spanking. At least his Lordship hadn't known that little secret!
Cynthia moaned as her weight trembled, her thighs burning from the effort of holding her up, and her bottom came into contact with the bed for a moment. The discomfort and burning sensation reignited, but it felt almost good now that she was touching herself. Teasing the hard little bud amidst her folds, she gasped and moaned a little louder as a flash of pleasure sizzled through her.
Her hips began to move, letting some of her weight rest on her flaming bottom before lifting it again, the pain a sharp and intense counterpoint to the ecstasy she was creating for herself. Picturing herself back across Lord Spencer's knee, she began to fantasize a very different ending to her spanking. One where, once her bottom was red and burning, his hands would go wandering.
One would slide into her bodice and begin to play with and pinch her nipple, the other would seek out the hot, wet, folds between her legs and begin to stroke her. His fingers would rub that swollen little nubbin to hardness, tweaking and pulling at it, until she was bucking across his thighs for an entirely different reason.
Letting out a high cry, Cynthia spasmed, her legs giving way as the waves of rapture rushed through her. The pain of her bottom coming down hard on the mattress only fed into her fantasy and she writhed with the intensity of her climax, so much more satisfying than any she'd had before. Moaning, her fingers finally slowed, the little circles she was making growing more languid as she moaned and panted in satisfaction.
That had been... amazing. Better than she'd ever experienced before.
Obviously this was going to be something she needed to explore. Cynthia smiled. She was quite sure that she could find plenty of reasons to earn a spanking. Then she winced as her bottom throbbed slightly painfully, and rolled onto her side. She’d earn another one eventually. Once this one didn’t continue to sting so badly.
Chapter 2
Ensconced in his study, Wesley was steadily working his way through the correspondence with his estate managers. It was taking a bit longer than usual because his concentration wasn’t what it normally was.
He’d spent the evening yesterday with his Mother and Cynthia, ostensibly to learn more about his ward. What he’d found was that she was even more distracting than just physically. Sweet, overly curious, and naturally cheerful, he’d been shocked when she’d been flitting around the house only an hour after receiving her spanking, acting as if nothing had happened. In fact, she’d been sitting quite cheerfully, gossiping with two of the maids about the doings of their next door neighbors.
If it hadn’t been for her slight wince when she sat down to dinner, he might have thought he’d imagined the entire episode. During dinner she chattered quite brazenly and familiarly with him, despite his disapproving scowls and his mother’s attempts to divert the conversation. Cynthia treated him just as casually as if he was one of his brothers, whom she obviously got on well with. They'd apparently sent more letters to her than they had to him, or at least more descriptive ones, as she knew far more about their recent doings than he did.
When Manfred came to announce the arrival of Lord and Lady Hyde for a visit, Wesley welcomed the break with relief. "Set them up in the drawing room please, and let Mother know they're here."
Since he knew that she'd declared herself "not-at-home" today, stating that she wanted to rest before they went out that evening, he figured he had a good half hour before she would be ready to make an appearance. There was no way she would miss out on seeing Edwin and Nell, even if she wasn’t at-home, but it would take her at least that long to clothe and ready herself for receiving visitors.
Which was all to the good because he had a proposal he wanted to put forth to his friends, before his mother joined them. Especially as she would probably bring Cynthia with her.
Putting his signature and seal on the document in front of him, Wesley stood and hastened to the drawing room.
******
Sitting in the elegantly decorated room of cool blues and grays, Eleanor should have felt calmed. Instead she watched her husband warily. Edwin had been incensed when he'd first declared that they would join Wesley in Bath; yet since that original confrontation he'd acted as if nothing upsetting had happened. She'd had to endure a rather uncomfortable carriage ride to Bath, because of her red bottom, but she thought that she'd have to endure uncomfortable dinners and silences with him as well.
Instead he was somehow warmer with her than he'd been in London. He'd always been passionate, from the very beginning of their marriage, but now his entire demeanor towards her was warm and affectionate at all times. Blatantly so, although in a decorous way when they were in public. Yesterday a few of their neighbors had stopped in to see who had rented the house and Edwin had danced his attendance on her, keeping her rather distracted with tiny touches and gestures of affection until she could barely keep her head on straight. It had her decidedly off balance because it wasn't at all what she had expected from him; he'd been so very angry with her and now he was... not.
At least not as far as she could tell and she found that confusing. Even though she'd been punished, she hadn't expected such an immediate reversion to typical behavior. Alth
ough, his behavior wasn't quite typical, truly.
It was more.
Now he was examining the room, while Eleanor sat rather stiffly on the ornate settee in the center of the room, and she examined him from the periphery of her vision. Handsome as sin, darkly commanding, the way he moved was almost a prowling as he inspected the room and the dainty, feminine decorations.
When he turned and caught her eye he grinned, looking almost like the boy she'd once known. "I wonder how comfortable Wesley feels in this room."
A small smile split her lips. Out of the three men who were best friends, Wesley, Edwin and her brother Hugh, Wesley had always been the most rambunctious and, as such, the most dangerous to the small glass collectibles his mother favored.
"One would hope he's outgrown his affection for hearing glass shatter," she replied. Their eyes sparkled in a moment of fellow feeling and memory.
"It was never an affection, just a tendency," said a deep voice from the doorway. Wesley stood, grinning at them as he shut the door behind him.
Eleanor laughed and stood as Edwin strode forward to greet their friend. Despite the fact that Wesley had only been in his mother's house for a bare twenty four hours, Eleanor thought he looked rather harassed. She wondered if his mother or his wayward ward had done the harassing. Normally Wesley was the most easy-going of the three men, but his mouth had a rather pinched look as did his eyes.
They asked the obligatory questions about his mother, whom Wesley assured them would be joining them shortly.
"Actually, I have a favor I would ask of you, before my mother joins us. Ask of Nell, really," he said, looking at her. "My ward is..." His lips flattened and he looked almost censorious. Not a usual expression for him. "My ward has been more of a burden on my mother than I initially realized. I don't wish to hurt my mother's feelings by insinuating to her that she can't handle Cynthia on her own, but I don't think some help would go amiss. I was hoping that, as someone closer to Cynthia's age..."