Free Saffina's Season by Flora Dain Page A

to lace me up when I heard a knock at the door. I called over my shoulder. “Annie? Where are you? Hurry. His Lordship’s waiting.”
    All I heard was the door open and softly close.
    “Annie?”
    “I dismissed your maid.” Jacquard. He put his hands around my waist and dropped a soft, hot kiss on my shoulder. “Keep hold of the post.”
    The sharp edge to his voice made me tremble. He ran his fingers slowly over my shoulders, loosening my gown and pushing it back along my arms. Gripping me firmly at the front of my waist, he pulled up my skirts with his other hand, searching deep between my legs.
    “Where did you go this morning?”
    I felt a chill, quickly followed by a shaft of raw heat as he buried his face at the side of my throat and kissed me hard. I leaned back into his kiss, arousal burning under his questing fingers as he pulled me hard against him. Excitement flared at the feel of his powerful body at my spine, his growing arousal already stirring to fullness.
    “I told you, sir, I had to see about a new bonnet— Oh .”
    Holding my hands fast with one of his, he looped braid from the bed drapes twice around my wrists and pulled it tight with a slipknot, securing me to the post.
    “What are you doing?” I sounded husky. “I thought we were going to Vauxhall?”
    “We are.”
    He buried his face once more in my neck, closer to my ear this time. He folded his hands around my breasts, kneading and pinching my nubs into sharp, jutting points. “But first we must do this.”
    “We must?” Hot arousal scorched through me at his touch. I felt my sensitive breasts tremble in his hands, almost seeming to swell.
    He probed between my legs while he pressed my thighs apart with his knee.
    “Open. Or I’ll tie your ankles apart to secure them.”
    Sliding my looped hands down the post a little way, he made me bend over, then hoisted my skirts to fondle my bare ass, his touch firm and strong.
    “Your visit to the milliner took twenty minutes at most. So I’m curious about the rest of your morning. And if you won’t say, I must remind you where your duties lie. Maybe this will help.”
    To my horror I realized he’d brought something in with him. I felt him draw the hard, flat leather tawse across my quivering rump. I stiffened, expecting blows. Instead he continued to feel me, exploring me fully with his warm hand and disturbing, merciless fingers. Arousal burned at his touch as he kept his hand in place, knowing just how and where to press, how often and how fast to circle or to tease. I breathed deeply as my climax loomed, the pressure in my softest folds swelling them to numbness.
    “But first,” he whispered, his lips soft on my skin, “a few trial slaps, just to warm you up.”
    “You are too harsh, sir,” I cried. “I told you. I’m planning a surprise for your birthday. Revealing any more will spoil it.”
    He laughed softly. “Will it? Too bad. You still need a spanking. Take the tawse in your teeth. We’ll spare the servants your squeals.”
    With the unforgiving leather clamped in my mouth, I felt his hand full force. At the blows I bucked and jerked, desperate to yell. At the same moment arousal pounded, hot and fierce.
    Soon I was weeping with need as his hand fell again and again, the harsh slaps making my eyes smart, the blows jolting my fiery, cruelly exposed places nearly numb with want.
    Just when I thought I should bite clean through the leather in sheer frustration, he paused and removed it. I panted, limp in my bonds, as the sting of his punishment flowered and glowed.
    “This is unfair, sir,” I wailed, tears spilling. “Am I to tell you all my movements? You said—”
    “Silence.”
    I shuddered as he stroked me again, his hand cool and smooth now on my hot, stinging ass. With a sigh, he slipped his fingers once more into the tingling spaces between my legs. I felt moisture trickle where he touched, betraying my all-too-shameful pleasure at this casual display of his