Matilda trembled at his angry tone but complied because she wanted this.
William rearranged her stance until her bottom stuck out toward him, then lifted her skirts high. “You know how I feel about that name.”
“Yes, William. You’ll punish me for using it.”
“I must. Are you ready?”
The first time he’d given her no warning, the second she’d been already overwhelmed by their conversation. This time Matilda knew exactly what it would feel like to have his hand beat against her skin. And she wanted it. She wanted to feel William.
“Yes, Billy Boy.”
“Count silently until the pain becomes too much to bear, then tell me the number.” The first strike was immediate and hard. It shook her from head to toe and stung like the very devil. The next and following strikes alternated from one cheek to the other, without pause or any hesitation. She’d unlocked the devil in William, and there was no stopping him now. She didn’t even want to.
She counted until her bottom began to hurt in earnest, and when it became too much she peeked back over her shoulder. William’s attention was fixed on her rear, and he was smiling like she’d never seen him before.
His eyes lifted to hers, and his hand froze in midair. “How many?”
“Thirty-three,” she managed to get out even as she was on the verge of tears. Her body ached. Trembled from his touch and desire for more.
“Stay like that,” he whispered before dropping to his knees.
He kissed around her hurts gently and then burrowed his face between her legs to kiss her throbbing quim. She gasped at the shock of his actions, but as his tongue lapped at her wetness, she arched her back even more as he teased her clitoris.
“Oh, stars.” She wanted more this time. She wanted him to feel good too. Matilda widened her legs.
He lapped at her hungrily, brought his hand up between her legs to rub her with his fingers when he moved back to kiss her bottom. She moaned brokenly as the pleasure mounted until she was crying out, almost crawling out of her skin with the need for release.
And then he stopped, rose to his knees, and pulled her skirts over her tingling bottom. He stumbled away, gasping.
Matilda slowly straightened, cringing a little as her bottom stung. She kept her hands on the door handles as he’d instructed, using them to hold herself upright. She leaned against the doorframe as her legs trembled. She had been so close. “William?”
“Tonight, after dinner, we will continue,” he promised, still gasping heavily.
Matilda closed her eyes as her quim twitched in anticipation. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Did he not desire her innocence at all? “Why did you stop?”
“Anticipation is a heady feeling,” he whispered. “For both of us. This abandoned country house is not meant to hear your cries of passion yet.”
She glanced his way, noticing his clenched hands and tense shoulders, the fullness of his trousers around his erection. “I would not have minded.”
“I would.” He unclenched his hands and stared at the right one. He brushed his fingers over the hand that had punished her so thoroughly. “Harder than I thought to stop when I’m with you,” he admitted.
She smiled and then started to laugh at how their situations had reversed. Matilda hadn’t wanted him to stop touching her, but he had. She’d never expected that.
He straightened and held out his hand. “Come, let us go home to an early dinner.”
Matilda took a step toward him and cried out. “The pain is going to make sitting down to dinner a problem,” she warned him.
“I’ll find you a very soft pillow for your chair.” William grinned, clearly unrepentant for her suffering, and moved to support her by putting one arm behind her back. He held her against his side a long moment, and she appreciated the comfort of his attention.
“You’ll manage beautifully,” he whispered. “Though I should warn you my sisters are coming to stay for a few days. They promised to be no trouble and keep to the house.”
Matilda turned her face into his shoulders and hid her blush. His sisters could never know what she and William did together. They would never understand what was truly going on. Evelyn, Audrey, and Victoria were still convinced William must love her and hoped Matilda might feel the same about him one day. She hoped they kept quiet on the subject. Marriages like this, if there ever was another like it, had nothing to do with love. She was lucky William was so considerate, even if he did force her into gowns of his choosing rather than her preference.
“I hope they can amuse themselves. I don’t think I have the presence of mind, or body, to chase them after that interlude.”
William held her close, fingers cupping her face. “You asked for it. You enjoyed being disciplined.”
“I did,” she admitted. “A year ago I would never have imagined I would want to provoke you ever again.”