Submitting to Lord Rockwell - Page 8

“I have never been flogged for pleasure or otherwise,” she protested.

“We may or may not have the opportunity tonight.”

Her eyes widened. “Your proposition made no mention of such…errant…”

“You asked for no specifics.”

“What woman of sound mind could have guessed—”

“I stated that I would take my pleasure of you. I promise that you too will enjoy every moment.”

He spoke without hauteur and she was tempted to believe the sincerity in his tone. Needing some distance from him to process her thoughts, she walked over to one wall and inspected a cat-o’-nine-tails. She touched the leather tails. It was real and no mere plaything.

“You have used this on other women?” she inquired.

He walked up behind her. She tensed. His presence alone could send her judgment scattering. Already her body responded as if being called by sirens.

“I have,” he replied.

“And they did not dislike it?”

“Quite the contrary.”

She closed her eyes at his seductive voice. She wanted to trust him.

“Surely you can forgive my skepticism,” she resisted.

“Have I not attended you with satisfaction?”

He ran a finger up her bare arm and she could not quell a shiver. How had her body become so sensitized to his touch?

“What you require is beyond the norm,” she murmured.

He rested his hand upon her shoulder, then gently began rubbing away the tension.

“I would not have invited you here if I did not think you possessed a bold spirit. I shall do nothing you cannot bear. You have but to utter your chosen word.”

“Rati.”

“Precisely. You may invoke it at any time. I would not have provided you this safety if I meant to force my will upon you. All that I do is for your desire.”

She raised a brow. “I will desire you to flog me?”

The corner of his mouth curled upward. “You will.”

“I very much doubt it, my lord.”

His eyes glimmered. “Care to lay wager upon it, Miss Herwood?”

“Despite my conviction, I think I had best not.”

“Then to allay your fears, allow me to propose that if you do not find this night to be fulfilling, I will offer as recompense the sum of one hundred pounds.”

A hundred quid! She salivated at the sum. She could stall the creditors from repossessing the furniture. Her mother could indulge in jam and butter upon her toast.

“And how would you define fulfillment?”

He trailed his hand down to the swell of her breast. “Not I. You shall—with your orgasm. The absence of it would mark a night unfulfilled.”

Tags: Em Brown Erotic
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