Free Submitting to His Lordship by Em Brown Page A

unfulfilled.
    Returning to her, he assisted her to her feet and kissed her lightly upon the hand. A shiver went through her. The simplest touch from him had such an effect upon her.
    “I shall return in an hour’s time,” he informed her before walking towards the door. He paused at the threshold and looked at the crop in his hand. A devilish glimmer flashed in his eyes. “I’ve a mind not to clean it.”
    Her cheeks heated. With some relief she watched him take his leave. She had much to digest. The fresh air would suit her. Yes, she looked forward to engaging in normal activities with Lord Rockwell. She pulled the blouse back over her breast and was picking up the sari just as Bhadra returned. Flushing, she covered herself with the fabric.
    “I’ve an ointment for m’lady,” Bhadra said as if nothing were amiss.
    The maid turned Deana around and began applying the salve upon her derriere. Deana flinched, mostly in embarrassment.
    “It be only a balm of witch hazel and aloe.”
    Deana noted the markings upon her arse apparently did not surprise the maid. Indeed, how had Bhadra been prepared with the ointment? Her cheeks colored to think that the maid had heard through the door what had happened or had been told by Rockwell himself. She wanted to ask Bhadra but was too mortified. In silence, she allowed Bhadra to remove the beautiful jewelry, which she placed carefully back in its case. Traditional petticoats and an English riding habit, an elegant green wool challis with velvet collars, complete with a Shako hat were produced.
    “Whose garments are these?” Deana asked.
    “A cousin of the late Monsieur Follet. She went into the nunnery. You and she are near identical in size. Lord Rockwell has a discerning eye.”
    Deana looked at Bhadra. “Have you been acquainted with his lordship long?”
    “For some years.”
    “Have you always been at the Chateau Follet?”
    “No.”
    She felt she would appear prying if she asked too many more questions, so she allowed the maid to finish the toilette in silence.
    After the soft and loose sari, the stays and chemisette were an unwelcome change, but seeing herself in the mirror, Deana had to admit the ensemble looked quite smart. She thanked Bhadra and awaited the return of Lord Rockwell.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Halsten grunted as his seed poured from his cock into his hand. He shook his head and leaned back into the armchair. Not what he truly desired but at least the tension would be relieved for a time. Nothing less than her cunnie would ultimately satisfy, and he had been tempted from the moment he entered her room and saw her wrapped in the sensuous fabric of the sari. The jewelry had enhanced every part it touched—her brow, her neck, her ears, the top of her hand, her long, slender middle finger. If he dressed her again with the baubles, he would kiss each spot before it became bejeweled. Of course the jewelry looked most beguiling when she had little else on. His cock twitched at the vision of her naked arse. How beautifully the marks of the crop had adorned those full and sumptuous cheeks. But he had withheld himself for he wanted the focus to be on her pleasure. His time would come soon enough.
    Miss Herwood presented a fetching picture in her riding habit. Though he had found her compelling despite her ordinary garments before, the proper attire could make a difference. Bhadra had even done her hair in more becoming fashion, pinning part of it atop her head and leaving the rest in perfect coils at her neck.
    He extended an arm. “Madame Follet requests your audience.”
    The hostess was found lounging upon her patio, partaking of grapes, like an image of Dionysius, a copy of the Lady’s Magazine upon her lap. Despite her years, Marguerite had a youthful glow and her complexion seemed to have found the fountain of youth—or at least a very convincing pomade.
    “Welcome, my dear,” she greeted Miss Herwood warmly. “I hope you found your first night