Page 39 of Cora
Did Gideon know about tying ladies up? Or spanking? She hadn’t realized it was a common thing to enjoy until Tulip told her how she had made a career of smacking men’s bottoms. Her specialty was humiliation.
Cora didn’t find humiliation erotic.
Blindfolding, however…
How did one go about asking for such things?
At the House of Virtue—or rather, its diabolical twin, the House of Vice—there was a protocol. You couldn’t start hitting or humiliating without setting ground rules first. That was where the real intimacy came into play. Trusting a stranger with your deepest thoughts and desires was an act of vulnerability.
Impossible to imagine Gideon being vulnerable with her like that. And yet, there had been a moment when he was murmuring against her ear when he’d let a secret slip: that he’d wanted to claim her, and couldn’t.
The regret in his voice haunted her. She needed to know the full story of what had happened that night from his lips. That meant she had to apply all of her new lessons to win a game. After that, she could think about what Tulip had shown her.
Wincing, Cora stretched her sore hands as she made her way up the stairs to their private rooms. The Flowers had been merciless in their instructions, from how to bend across the table and distract a man with one’s breasts while subtly edging a ball aside, to the best hold for taking tricky shots.
A little piano playing might help to stretch them out. Nothing much. Just a few warmup scales.
Cora tucked her skirt aside and sat on the piano bench. For the first time in eleven years, she began to play.
* * *
Gideon
Faint musical notesgreeted Gideon when he arrived home that evening. He hesitated, tipping his head wonderingly at the unmistakable sound of a piano floating down the stairs.
A simple song. One appropriate for a child learning to play for the first time, and played with childish delight. His mouth curved into a smile as he made his way up to their connected rooms and leaned against the doorframe to watch. Cora’s eyes were closed, her chin tipped up, and she hummed along with the tune. Radiant. Just as beautiful as she’d been the night he ruined her.
She hit a wrong note. The spell broke. She startled and pressed one hand to her bosom.
“Don’t stop on my account.” He clapped a few times. “I’m glad to see you using your wedding gift.”
Her demure, shy smile punched him right in the gut. Instead of starting another song, she slipped off the bench and sauntered over to him.
“I’m sorry I was such an ingrate upon receiving your gift.”
Gideon blinked.
He did not know what to make of this sudden thaw, but he was not going to argue with the way she ran her hands up his lapels and drew him in for a kiss. When her lips met his, the contact was charged. Electric. He had anticipated this moment for so long. Now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do with it.
“I ruined your joy,” he murmured. “I had no right to take that from you. None.”
“Are you ever going to tell me why you did it?”
He did not want to tell her. Nothing about what he’d done presented him in a positive light. Gideon locked his arms around her waist. “I’ll tell you if you can best me at billiards.”
She never would. Not after the lack of skill she’d exhibited. He had years of experience; she was a neophyte.
“Challenge accepted,” she said. A smile played over her generous lips.
He huffed in amusement. “I’m not thinking about games, songbird. Or at least, not that one.”
She twined her hands around the back of his neck. This was the kind of marriage he’d dreamed of. Her, pliant and warm, leaning into his touch. She represented the kind of softness that men of consequence, who dealt in hard truths and fought for dominance with bare knuckles that left bruises, weren’t supposed to yearn for. Yet he had, for eleven long years.
“I want you to continue playing for me.” His breath skimmed against her cheek. “Not right now, but soon.”
“I’m rusty.”
“Then practice.”
