Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)

The aggressive,

almost crude words made Irene shiver. She was enamored of Hugh as a gentleman, but when he became demanding and coarse in bed, she almost liked that even more. The fiery pain in her bottom made her moan as it came back in contact with the bed, her weight pressing down on it. Planting her feet on the bed, she kept her thighs spread wide, blushing at the open and vulnerable picture she must make, but doing it anyway to keep as much space between the bed and her bottom as possible.

Hugh chuckled as he climbed between her legs, the head of his cock rubbing against her slick pussy lips as he hovered over her. "You can give me that appalled look all you want, sweetheart, I can see how aroused you are. Your pretty pussy is nearly as pink as your arse."

Even as he caught her lips in a deep, passionate kiss, Irene whined in embarrassment that he'd pointed out her shameful reaction. She whined again, the sound muffled by his lips, as his body weight came down on her, pressing her into the bed. There was no way her legs could hold up both of them, and the pleasure of his body against hers mingled with the flaring sparks in her poor bottom. Writhing against him, trying to escape the fiery burn, her nipples and body rubbed against his hard muscles and wiry hair, further stimulating her senses. She could feel his cock bobbing between her thighs, the tip coated in her juices.

With his own groan, Hugh thrust his hips forward, impaling her on his shaft. She gasped, opening her mouth even further, and he took full advantage, his tongue sliding in deep just like his cock. Irene clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging in, as she was driven into the mattress by his hard thrust, her bottom bouncing painfully against the bed.

Almost immediately, Hugh started moving, hard and fast, slapping her pussy with his body and making her bottom bounce and rub against the mattress. Irene cried out at the painfully pleasurable sensations, her body confused as to what it was feeling as his cock massaged her insides and her sore buttocks were further abused. One of Hugh's hands slid down to grip a red cheek, fingers digging in and making her mewl as she squirmed beneath him, her pussy clenching in lustful passion as he rode her hard.

Their lovemaking was always passionate, but Hugh was rougher with her, harder on her, after a spanking, as if punishing her woke some kind of animalistic urge inside of him. Irene was caught in the waves of his desire, almost as though she was being dragged into his ardor along with him. All she could do was cling to him as they came together, hanging on to him for the duration and hoping not to get left behind.

Her body was clamoring for more even as she shrieked with pain and pleasure. The same part of her that loved the discipline reveled in being ravished and dominated by her husband, her own urges making her hotter and wetter as he pounded between her thighs. She gave herself over to the sensation, letting him take complete control of her body, accepting both the ecstasy and the exquisite burn.

Hugh could feel her softening beneath him, her pussy clutching at him as he lost himself in her sweet heaven. The slight pain from her nails digging into his shoulders gave way to a masculine pride at how she clutched at him, writhed for him, cried out for him. The wet slickness of her body coated his cock, making it easy for him to pump in and out of her. The soft, breathy noises she made whenever her bottom was pressed against the bed - half enjoyment and half distress - sent shudders of pleasure down his spine.

"Cum for me, sweetheart," he growled in her ear, his raspy, heated voice making her insides clench and dance. "I want to feel your pussy milking me while I fill you with my seed."

His dirty, salacious words, combined with all that incredibly sensation, finally sent Irene careening over the edge of pleasure. She opened her mouth to answer him and ended up screaming his name instead as she clawed at his chest. The pleasure surged, lifting her high, and then dropping her into a free fall of ecstasy. It was stars and light and surging warmth all around her and inside of her. Hot liquid splashed her insides and she clenched, her pussy squeezing and milking Hugh's cock of his seed, just like he'd wanted her to.

The connection between them felt so incredibly deep, so completely encompassing, that both of them were breathless as Hugh's body partially collapsed on top of hers. Still joined intimately, they breathed deeply, inhaling each other's scents, nuzzling and holding each other as closely as they could. Irene's eyelids fluttered as she felt contentment and exhaustion sliding through her.

As the pleasure high began to wear off, she was more and more aware of the throbbing pain in her bottom. She whimpered, shifting beneath their combined weights, and Hugh immediately knew what was wrong. Holding her tightly, so that she moved with him, he rolled on to his back so that she lay atop him.

His softened cock slid reluctantly from the warm haven of her body as he reached down to gently caress her ass. The soft cheeks were still emanating heat, and he was sure they retained their bright pink color even if he couldn't currently see it. Irene made a soft little noise as he stroked the sore flesh, wriggling to find a more comfortable position, since he seemed determined to keep her sprawled across his body.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart," he murmured, one hand still cupping her bottom as the other drifted up to brush the hair off of her neck.

"But what about Cynthia and Grace?" Irene asked softly, her voice sultry with sleepiness. "I need to know what happened to them."

"We'll see them tomorrow at the wedding," he said, letting a hint of authority trickle into his voice. He didn't doubt that Wesley and Alex had the situation well in hand, otherwise he would have heard from them by now if they'd needed assistance.

A small smile went across his face as he stroked his sleepy wife, his own contentment making him smug. He didn't doubt that all of their women would be sitting very uncomfortably at the wedding tomorrow.

******

Getting back into the house that Alex had rented proved much easier than leaving the Countess' home unnoticed. On the way out, Grace and Cynthia had hid several times from maids and servants. They'd slipped out a side door that Cynthia said she had used on occasion to sneak out, both of them giggling with relief when they weren't stopped. Neither of them had seen the eyes that followed them out the door, watching with disapproval. For the first block, as they hurried down the street, Grace kept looking over her shoulder, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as if in warning, but no one called after them.

The darkened streets had made her heart beat faster - or maybe it was just because she was finally going to achieve her goal. Most of the house was quiet and dark, and she was relieved, because that meant Alex had certainly gone out with the other men. His study was at the front of the house, and she was sure that he would have been in there still working if he were home. The darkness of that window in particular was reassuring.

They'd slipped in through the front door, moving silently so as not to alert the butler, and easily made their way up into Alex's room. Grace hadn't hesitated to light the candles and gas lamps available, brightening up the room enough so that they could look.

Surprisingly, despite the fact that most of the documents on Alex's desk were completely standard business correspondence, Cynthia didn't look bored at all as they leafed through them. She occasionally held one out to Grace, wanting to know if a particular transaction or deal might have something to do with Grace or her father, but nothing had. The documents on Alex's desk were entirely benign.

"Time to go through the drawers!" Cynthia said gleefully, when they finished the third small stack, not even bothering to whisper.

For some reason, Grace's stomach did a little flip when Cynthia opened the first drawer. It seemed more invasive to go through the drawers than it did to go through the things on top of his desk. Something disturbingly like guilt wiggled in her belly. But it was far too late to turn back now; curiosity, and a strange kind of desperation, drove her onward.

"You take that side, I'll take this side," Grace said, shooing Cynthia to the left. The younger woman eagerly pulled open the first drawer.

"Boring... boring... boring..." Cynthia was muttering under her

breath as Grace did her best to ignore the soft chant. Her own drawer wasn't proving to be very interesting either. Mostly it was long-term contracts between Alex and others with whom he did business. She did find the one between Alex and her father, but it hadn't been updated since it had been signed.

Which meant that the deal between her father and Alex hadn't changed at all, despite her and Alex's estrangement. Not that her father had ever been the type to allow sentiment or family to get in the way of refilling his coffers. The man had decadent tastes, and didn't mind dabbling in business to support that, especially if he could do it under the guise of a socially acceptable transaction like a marriage.

Scowling, Grace shoved the papers back into the drawer and moved on to the middle one.