Page 67 of The Duke and the Wrong Bride

“Perfect,” he purred and then pulled away.

She tried to turn back to see what he was doing, but considering the circumstances, it was rather difficult. This was all very new to Charlotte, and while she was indeed excited about it, aroused like she’d never been before, she was also a little scared.

She was naked on the bed. On her knees. Wrists tied to the headboard. Completely helpless to the whims of her husband, who had promised to show her his true nature. Charlotte liked to be dominated by him. She yearned for his strong and commanding touch. But this was something else entirely.

Even now, the fact that she could only hear what he was doing, unable to even look back and confirm, evoked a fear in her that made her body shake, while, somehow, it also caused her loins to quiver. Caught between terror and arousal, she struggled to reckon with how she truly felt. But seeing as it was with Henry, a man who she trusted implicitly, she knew better than to worry.

“And finally…” Henry climbed back beside her, holding a cloth in his hands.

“What’s that?” she asked, knowing the answer.

His smile was excited. “This is for you.”

The piece of cloth went over her eyes like a blindfold, and she gasped at the sudden darkness.

“Is everything all right?” he then asked.

“Y-yes.” Her body shook, and her heart thundered in her chest.

She felt his hand gently stroke her body. Running from her shoulders down her back to her bare buttcheeks, she melted under it and began to relax. His hand continued to stroke her softly, and she could feel him admiring her naked body. There was something about that sensation that she couldn’t explain, how helpless she was yet how worshipped she felt at the same time. She couldn’t see a thing, but she could imagine Henry looking at her as he licked his lips, touched her body, and prepared to take her.

“Remember,” Henry repeated to the sounds of his clothes dropping on the floor. “King George.”

“I remember.”

“Good girl,” he growled and stroked her hair gently.

She felt herself relax further under his touch, her heart rate returning to normal, that sense of worry starting to?—

A sharp pain erupted across her right buttcheek. Harder than what she was used to. Stronger. More aggressive. She yelped in pain, and her body seized up as she tried to pull herself free and turn around, only to suddenly remember that her wrists were bound. A moment of panic, undone when another sharp pain struck her left buttcheek.

“How is that?” he asked softly, gently stroking where he had spanked her.

A brief moment when she thought to utter the safe word and be done with this madness. She liked to be dominated and taken advantage of, but surely this was too much? Only… Charlotte also found that she didn’t want to. Yes, she was nervous. Yes, there was some fear there. But the way her body shook was from how aroused she was, not because she was scared. And already, she was bracing herself for what was to come next.

No, she would not stop. She’d asked to see the real Henry, and that was what he was giving her. A side of him brought on not because she had made him angry but because of how much he wanted her.

“It’s perfect,” she said. And then, because it sounded right, “Harder.”

Henry chuckled to himself. “As you wish…”

* * *

Charlotte woke up that morning to two surprising revelations.

The first was to find Henry still holding her as he had been doing the night before when they’d drifted off to sleep. This wasn’t the first night they’d fallen asleep together, far from it, but it was the first she’d woken up to him still wrapped about her like a vine. She shuffled slightly so as to get a better look at him, noting the content smile on his face as he softly snored, totally at peace and dead to the world.

It was hard to imagine that this was the same man who had treated her with such ferocity the previous evening. Now that she was awake, she could feel the bruises and welts on her buttocks and thighs from where he had ravaged her. She could feel how stiff and sore she was. She could feel a tenderness between her legs, which was very much the result of Henry having complete and utter control of her, as she was unable and unwilling to stop him.

Not that she minded. In fact, lying in his arms, her mind drifting to the previous evening, Charlotte couldn’t help but smile. Not only had she also enjoyed herself more than she thought possible, but the fact that it had been brought on not by shouting and yelling at one another but by being open and honest for maybe the first time ever was proof enough that they had taken a new step forward in this relationship.

As to the second surprise of the morning? That was the sound of singing coming from outside.

“What in the devil is that?” Henry mumbled; eyes still closed. He scooted closer to her, seemingly unwilling to let her go.

“I have no idea…” Charlotte shifted and turned in the direction of the sound. It was hard to tell, however, as it was soft and inaudible, drifting through the open window like the wind. “I think it’s…” Listening closer, an impossible thought came to mind. “No.”

“Whoever it is, tell them to shut it, will you.”

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