The Baron and Baroness were away again, visiting some far-flung outpost of the British Empire. As children are often an encumbrance to continental travel- particularly spirited, redheaded, nineteen-year-old daughters- Lord and Lady Albray had opted to leave their only child behind. That is how Julia Albray, once more, found herself left to her own devices.
Not that Julia had very much supervision when they were at home. Her father was far too busy seeing to his many grand estates and social obligation to take notice of the comings and goings of one troublesome daughter and her flighty mother was too preoccupied with the latest foreign frivolities to notice much of anything. They were not the most attentive of guardians. But at least her father's boisterous voice and her mother's silly chatter served to fill their cavernous country estate with life and sound.
When Lord and Lady Albray were abroad a silence always seemed to fall over Thornvale Hall. A heavy silence that stifled more than it soothed. Julia did what she could to keep the quiet at bay; dancing, drinking, gaming and best of all- flirting. When all else failed, tormenting the servants was a tolerable diversion.
It will have to do, Julia thought as she watched the first footman stroll into the opulent morning room. Mr. Tall Dark and Pompous himself. With his bright crimson livery setting off his sharp features and glossy black hair, Jonathan was indecently handsome and annoyingly unaware of the fact. His ramrod straight posture made him look intolerably arrogant, even if it did enhance the broadness of his shoulders quite nicely. He was only a year or two older than she but he already possessed the serious demeanor of someone of much more advanced years.
Like the dead, for instance.
Everything about the man was vexing from his irritatingly impeccable livery, to his scornfully smug good looks. But the most vexing thing about Jonathan was his stubborn refusal to play any of her diverting little games. He didn't blanche at her provocative remarks as Stevenson the timeworn butler would but neither did he flirt back as some of the younger staff did. When she would put on her prettiest coquettish smile and bat her blue eyes, which she knew to be quite fine, Jonathan would not do her the compliment of a leering wink or even the basic curtesy of a blushing stammer. Instead he merely looked at her disapprovingly as if he meant to scold her.
He may never have said anything outright, oh no, he was too damndably proper for that. But he didn't have to, disapproval was written on every feature and inscribed in every gesture as clearly as any book.
"Your post, Miss Julia." Jonathan presented a silver platter in a distinctly disapproving manner.
Behind him William, the second footman, arrived carrying a sizable tea tray. Moderately attractive and extremely coltish, William was always up for a bit of a flirt.
He placed the tray before her. "Tea and scones, Miss. With jam or cream."
"Oh, my favorite. I find I prefer the cream. So velvety and smooth. I adore the decadent way it coats the tongue." She dolloped a generous amount of the frothy confection atop a scone and then brought the spoon to her lips, licking it with a suggestive sweep of her tongue. "Don't you William?"
"I have always been more of a jam man but the lovely way your ladyship goes on I might soon be tempted to convert." He replied, offering a cheeky wink as amorous etiquette dictates.
"How amenable of you." Julia turned towards Jonathan to find his dark brows furrowed in characteristic displeasure. "And what of you Jonathan. Might I tempt you to try some cream?"
"My apologies, but I don't care for dessert." Jonathan replied in a tone so sober and prudish that it would have made even the stodgiest of headmasters proud. Julia had to stifle a laugh. It was patently ridiculous for such a young fellow to carry himself like some ancient admiral. With a wave of the hand he made a dismissive gesture. "Thank you, William that will be all."
Julia and William exchanged conspiratorial smirks before he slipped dutifully out the door. She didn't even have to look over. She felt the frostiness of Jonathan's censure from across the room.
"Jonathan, be so good as to tell Mr. Brooks to have the carriage ready by 7 0'clock. I'm going to pay a visit to the Willoughby's tonight." There was always some gay diversion or idle gossip to be found there even if her father grumbled that they were not 'the right sort of people'. From the stern grunt Jonathan was currently making he was likely thinking the very same thing. "Is there something you'd like to say, Jonathan?"
"Nothing at all, Miss Julia." His words said but his dark eyes told a different story. How very contrary of him.
"Perhaps you think I ought to stay away from such company. That I'd be better off staying in and knitting all night like a proper young lady." She leaned in letting him feel her anger. If he was capable of feeling anything at all, which she very much doubted.
"Seems I have no need to say anything as you have already said it all." With that he stalked out of the room like the sultan he seemed to think he was.
Such arrogance from this, this... footman! That he, a lowly servant, should be silently passing judgement over her, the daughter of a Baron and heir to a vast fortune. It was not to be borne.
Julia determined then and there that she was going to get a rise out of him, whatever it takes.
Whatever it takes, Jonathan Ridley was determined to get some peace. He couldn't wait to slip off to the Red Lion. A few hours at the local pub (the only precious leisure time he had all week) ought to do his tired mind a world of good. As first footman Jonathan had many responsibilities, all of which he took seriously.
A grand household is like an elaborate clockwork with interlocking gear and cogs. Everyone, from the lowliest stable boy to the stately Baron himself, must play their part for the machinery to run properly. If only a certain coy redheaded cog would accept her place instead of constantly throwing a spanner in the works he thought glumly. Maybe one day he would even tell her so. Just then the spanner thrower's maid tromped wearily down the servant steps.
"Miss Julia is in rare form tonight." The lady's maid grumbled. The poor girl looked dead on her feet. "Mistress just got in from a night of cards with those wicked Willoughby sisters and now she bids me clean her red riding habit tonight for tomorrow's ride. Says she changed her mind about the blue one. She wants a bottle of champagne uncorked and for Mrs. Pratt to make some special dish for that wee vicious kitty of hers."
"At this ungodly hour?" Mrs. Pratt, the sweet old cook of advancing years and expanding waistline let out a long sigh and attempted to lift her tired bones from her chair with minimal success.
"Please remain were you are Mrs. Pratt, I will deal with Miss Julia myself." Jonathan swore a few oaths, under his breath of course, and silently kissed his trip to the pub goodbye. After retrieving a bottle and pausing to straighten his coat he climbed the steps towards the yawning maw of the lion's den.
Lit entirely by candlelight, the white drawing room took on a kind of dreamy luster at night. Though the sun had descended many hours ago the summer heat lingered stubbornly in the air, making the many arrangements of peonies droop their heavy heads in exhaustion. A ring of sofas, settees and armchairs, each one more frilly and feminine than the last, circled a white marble fireplace. Decorated in soft shades of white and pink, the place seemed an unlikely habitat for the fearsome creature within.
Yet there in the center of the elegant room, poised on her pink satin perch, was the lioness herself, Miss Julia Albray. The flicker of the few dozen candles made her flawless ivory skin shimmer like a pearl still wet from the sea and her fiery red hair glow like flames. Even in the dim light Jonathan could see that her fine features were arranged in her customary expression of delicate distain. Her ruffled, rose colored confection of a gown was cut far too low for propriety's sake, though Jonathan couldn't deny the aesthetic advantage such a neckline had in accentuating the creamy swell of her bosom. He was still a man, after all.
Bedecked in jewels and reared in luxury, one could almost mistake Julia for a tamed specimen. But Jonathan reminded himself that under all that finery this cat still had claws.
"Good evening, Miss Julia."
"Yes, it certainly is." She replied promptly. The slight slur of her words and the rosy flush of her cheeks suggesting that she had already had an unladylike amount of bubbly. Typical.
Everything about the lady was vexing from her selfish and reckless behavior, to her domineering treatment of the servants. But the most vexing thing about Julia was her stubborn refusal to stay out of his thoughts.
She had bewitched him, as cliché as the saying might be, yet it was nothing but the truth. Even if he tried to deny it a dozen times a day. As he polished the Baron's silver he steadfastly denied the luminous beauty of her red hair. While he set the enormous dining table he repeatedly reminded himself that her vivid blue eyes were not so very dazzling.
Yet as he stood in the presence of that luminous red hair and those dazzling blue eyes he knew that all his disavowals had been a waste of time. How very contrary of her.
"Where is Hecate's dinner?" Julia inquired in her usual provoking tone, motioning to the unfriendly little beast curled up at her feet.
"Mrs. Pratt has already retired for the night and I didn't wish to rob an overworked old lady of her sleep for the sake of a feline's midnight cravings." He replied, his voice revealing a bit more irritation than he had intended.
She gave him a challenging look but then it quickly softened. "Never mind then, she'll just have to make do with kitchen mice tonight." She nudged the black ball of fur and fury with one foot and it slunk away into the shadows. "At least you've brought the champagne. Won't you have a drink with me Jonathan?"
"I don't think that would be appropriate Miss." Jonathan reasoned.
Wrinkling her pert, little nose, she said. "Come now, it's far too hot to stand on ceremony. What is it about the heat that makes one want to behave badly?"
"Some will find any pretense for bad behavior."
"And others wouldn't know how to misbehave if they were led by the nose by Beelzebub himself." She waved her fan in an unmistakably haughty fashion.
"One might consider that a virtue." He countered.
"I consider it dull." She proclaimed flatly. Having reached an apparent impasse, Julia took a different tact. "It's just one little drink. Besides, a polite gentleman would keep a lady company and spare her the indignity of drinking alone. Unless you'd like to contribute further to my scandalous reputation."
Jonathan knew he shouldn't accept but he couldn't fault the logic of her argument. So begrudgingly he obliged, pouring them both glasses before joining her on an adjacent seat. He shifted in his chair, finding it difficult to take a comfortable position in his increasingly tight trousers. Damn her! He was already hard as a rock just seeing the provocative way she sprawled across the sofa.
"Reputation is hardly a subject to be made light of Miss. It is something that must be closely guarded if a lady is to keep it."
"What a talent you have for impressions Jonathan. Your mouth is moving and yet all I hear is my father's voice. I'd say you should go into the theatre but sadly the performance is not an entertaining one. Not entertaining in the least." She snapped her fan shut emphatically.
"Fortunately, I haven't any aspirations of the theatrical kind. Your father had been good to me and so I have no intentions of leaving the employ of the Albray family."
"Tell me Jonathan, are you too loyal to leave my father's service or simply too unimaginative?" She asked while holding her head with an outrageous degree of loftiness.
"I may not be as imaginative as some but having seen how that imagination might be misused I'm content to be guided by loyalty. And as a loyal servant I feel I must take steps to protect the standing of the family name against those who might tarnish it. Even you."
The words came out before he could stop them. Lord knows why he said it, was it the years of taunting, the lack of sleep or just the intolerable conceit in her voice. But whatever the cause Jonathan decided he was finally going to tell her what he really thought of her. This very night.
Julia heaved a weary sigh. "I have a terrible suspicion that you are on the verge of a lecture."
"You are in need of one, Miss Julia." He lowered his voice to match the gravity of his words. "You're playing a dangerous game. You should hear the tongues wagging below stairs when you dance with this valet or make eyes at that gamekeeper."
"Tongues will always wag. Am I to be guided by tongues?" She asked, toying with the handle of her fan the way she toyed with her servants. "What next, taking advice from spleens or following the council of a kidney?"
"At least you could try using your bloody head!" He blurted and thumped his glass down upon the table. How to make her understand that he was only trying to help her? "You're not a child Julia. You know such chatter can be ruinous to a woman's reputation and consequently the reputation of her family."
Julia thrust her dainty chin even higher. "So it is your duty to scolding me? Me? Your social superior in every way. Next you'll be ordering me about like a common scullery maid."
"Someone ought to." Eyes locked, the threat hung between them for a long, tense, moment.
"Get me more champagne." Her terse command finally broke the silence.
"But your glass is still full." Jonathan noted quite reasonably.
She lifter her glass and emptied it in one swallow. Then she tossed it to him with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.
He plucked the projectile deftly from the air and put it aside, unfilled. "Need I remind you that we servants are not your playthings. Some of us have real work to do."
"But you do not. Not today anyway. It is your day off is it not? And yet you are still wearing your livery." Her sharp blue eyes glittered with mischief as she demanded he "take it off this instant."
"That's an order." The little lioness growled. Her eyes veritably blazing with wicked amusement. Jonathan intended to extinguish that wicked blaze. Come hell or high water, he would bring her to heel. Perhaps he might even enjoy the exercise.
"As you wish, Miss Julia."
She looked a bit shocked that he didn't try to resist her command. In fact, as his fingers undid the first button at his neck a pretty blush began to spread across her cheeks. Yes, he was definitely going to enjoy it.
Slowly he complied, working his way down the row of glittering gold buttons. Straightening his spine and steeling his nerve, he began to shuffle off his coat, resolving to show no weakness.
As Jonathan peeled the coat gradually down his toned body Julia reminded herself to show no weakness. Even if that weakness had presently situated itself in her knees and was threatening to knock them together.
Jonathan already looked so fine in his sleek, buttoned-up uniform. But without it he looked better than fine- he looked exquisite. Soon his waistcoat was also removed. The contours of his rigid muscles were clearly visible through the confines of his thin linen undershirt. She tried her best not to gawk at the hard plains of his chest, the bulge of his biceps, the narrowness of his waist. Her heart picked up pace at the thought of all that the strength and power separated from her by one thin layer of fabric.
Any effort not to gawk outright was forgotten as her eyes drifted further down. If Julia was not entirely mistaken, and she almost never was, the always prominent bulge in his close-fitting breeches seemed to grow further in prominence under her gaze.
Giddy on champagne and power, she held out one shapely leg and ordered in a husky voice, "now kiss my shoe."
He hesitated for only a moment before dropping to kneel before her. Gently, almost reverently, he touched the hem of her garment and ever-so-slowly lifted her skirts til the lacy top of her garter was just visible. Her pulse jumped when his lips touched the soft leather of her shoe.
Gazing up, he held her in a look that can only be described as dangerous. "Little girls who play with fire are bound to get burned."
"And are you the one who is to wield the flame?" She challenged, knowing full well just what and whom she was playing with.
Abruptly his grip tightened. With a sudden jerk, he pulled her forward and flung her face down across his lap. She found herself dangling over his hard thighs, staring at the floor in shock. Before she even had the presence of mind to object her skirts were pulled up and Jonathan had commenced to spanking her as if she was a naughty child.
"Put me down right now!" She squealed as his hand landed hard on her bottom with a crack of fire.
"I think not." He said, the other hand pressed firmly into the small of her back to restrict her struggles. "I've been wanting to do this for some time."
A hot volley of blows fell at an alarming pace. Each spank produced a resounding smack followed by a burning bloom of pain. The sound echoed off the walls, as did her accompanying screams. She had wished to provoke a reaction from Jonathan and now she certainly had one. Regrettably, she hadn't anticipated this particular outcome. Be careful what you wish for.
"Stop this! I am the daughter of a Baron." Julia protested with as much condescension as should could muster in her current state of ignominy.
"Then you should start behaving like one." He scolded. "This is for gambling with those salacious Willoughby girls." Smack! "And this is for running your poor lady's maid ragged with ridiculous requests." Smack! "And this is for your shameless flirtations." Smack!
Thoroughly ashamed, Julia hid her red face in the material of her upturned skirts. She didn't know which stung worse, the cruel contact of his palm or the cutting truth of his words. Tears of frustration began to blur her vision and spill down her cheeks. Still he continued to punish her posterior with a steady stream of stinging swats.
The whole area below her waist was beginning to grow hot and swollen. Unable to keep still, she practically danced on her toes. Whenever her legs would kick up he would slap the back of her thighs to force them back down to the floor. After a few more wallops she stopped wriggling and started whimpering.
"Oww," she cried but what she really meant was oh, no. Because underneath the pain and embarrassment and outrage lay another equally raw and unwanted emotion; lust. It pooled in her heated center and snaked through her veins like liquid fire, converting the stinging ache in her core into teasing pleasure. Appalled by her body's sordid response, Julia hid her face deeper in her skirts but she couldn't hide from the barrage of conflicting sensations.
"Ohh," she meant to complain but the sound came out more like an entreaty. An entreaty for what exactly, she did not know. The whack of his hand hurt, there was no denying that. But in the pain's wake came a strangely pleasant throbbing. She wanted to shy away but her hips had a mind of their own, arching up to meet his punishing hand. Jonathan spanked her again and again until her breath came in ragged pants. Awash with confusion, Julia was no longer sure if it felt good or bad or frightful. Perhaps all three.
What she was sure of was that if the spanking went on much longer she would lose her mind.
Jonathan was quite sure he had lost his mind. Spanking the lady of the house, (even one as in need of correction as this little lady) was an act of insanity. He'd fantasied about this moment long enough. Of taking the troublesome redhead across his lap to show her what happened to naughty little misses.
Certainly, he had his reasons, he assured himself. Though he wasn't certain which reason was currently guiding his hand. The chivalrous part of him was convinced he was doing it to protect Julia from her own ruinous judgement but the less gallant part of him wished to punish her for her high-handed ways.
And then there was the savage in him who merely wanted to see her bare ass grow hot and red under his palm. Allowing that part of him to take free rein, he let a few more blows land, relishing the way she writhed and whimpered in his lap. It was a fortunate thing that the rest of the household was sound asleep at that hour and couldn't possibly hear her hollering from the servant's quarters. As it stood, only himself and the
On the last strike, he let his hand rest on her heated backside. And what a lovely backside it was. Round and firm and rosy from his ministrations. Gentry he grazed his palm across the curves of her soft cheeks, admiring the expanse of smooth white flesh now stained a lovely shade of pink. He ran his thumb down the crease defining the cheeks, parting them slightly so her private parts were exposed to his view. He could feel her breathing catch when he did.
The heady scent of female arousal wafted up to reach him. His cock jerked in response. Was she enjoying this? It was then he noticed a glint of moisture collecting on the downy curls of her sex. The sight drove away the last vestiges of reason. Before he knew what he was about, Jonathan was parting the slick folds of her quim to discover the wetness within.
Julia gasped and then scurried off his lap as if his touch scalded.
"How dare you." She hissed, standing over him with a hand fisted on each hip. She did a lovely job feigning indignation but there were telltale signs of her falsehood written all over her flushed face. "I should not have to remind you that I am currently the lady of the house. Remember your place sir."
He stood, bringing himself up to his full heights which was a whole head taller than Julia. Now it was his turn to glower down on her. He had danced to her tune for far too long. It was time for him to take the lead.
"And what of your place? You fit quite snuggly across my lap. I do believe you rather enjoyed your time there." Jonathan taunted.
"That's a lie." She seethed. The adorable look of anger and embarrassment on her face made his blood boil in every conceivable way.
"Your body begs to differ. I just had the wet proof of your enjoyment all over my hand. But if you'd like another demonstration I'd be happy to oblige." He offered. The corners of his mouth lifted briefly in a mocking grin.
All at once Julia spun on her heels, hand poised to slap his face but he managed to catch her arm in mid-swing. Thus ensnared, he reeled her towards him and wrapped her in his arms.
She let out a frustrated growl. Her heaving chest pressed against his, hair a mass of crimson threads, blue eyes darkened with passion, she looked like a vision of wild loveliness. He had to remind himself (and his annoyingly insistent erection) that the point of the exercise was to teach her a lesson, not merely to pull her down onto the carpet and ravage her senseless.
"Admit that you enjoyed being taken over my knee."
She seemed to mull over his declaration and then finally soften slightly in his hold. Pressing closer, she leaned in so that he could feel her warm breath upon his cheek. Her pursed lips brushed gently against his ear. "Never," she whispered and then abruptly punctuated the word with a hard shove to his chest.
Not expecting the maneuver, Jonathan stumbled back a step before he could regain his footing. As he did he heaved at her wrist so that she was pulled back against him so quickly that she let out a little chirp of surprise.
Employing her notorious claws, Julia yanked at the collar of his perfectly pressed shirt, rending some of the buttons and making him growl deep in his throat. In retaliation, he ripped the ornate golden comb from her hair. A cascade of crimson curls tumbled down her back as the ornament clattered to the floor.
They were so very close now. He could feel the heat of her body through their layers of clothing. She was trembling slightly. He inhaled her scent of jasmine and amber. It was feminine and alluring and a bit wild. Just like her.
"Impudent peasant." She hissed, her eyes narrowed to flinty slits.
"Insolent brat." He countered, returning her stony glare.
"Such discourteous words from the baron's perfect lackey." Face to face, the air between them fairly crackled with lust and loathing. A combustible combination.
"As you reminded me, it is my day off. Today I am not the baron's servant and you are not my superior. I am just a man and you..." as he spoke he ran a hand lightly through her hair and then seized a firm fistful, "are a woman."
She let out a low moan full of yearning.
The sound undid him utterly. Throwing over his last shred of restraint, he closed the distance to capture her mouth. He kissed her then, not a gentle courtly kiss but a punishing claiming kind of kiss.
In the work of a moment he had fallen onto a nearby sofa and pulled her astride his lap. Grasping the nape of her neck, he held her firmly so that he may plundered her mouth unimpeded. Julia tensed for a second and then melted into him. She opened to him so that he may flick his tongue inside her mouth. To his astonishment her tongue slid out to meet his and she returned the kiss measure for measure.
When he pressed his leg between hers she arched into it. She moaned and rocked her pelvis to rub shamelessly against the broad surface of his thigh. Good lord, she was so responsive and abandoned. He knew she would be like this beneath her thick veneer of pride and command.
No longer able to resist, his hands joined in on the embrace, roaming over her silk encased curves. Her body relaxed and conformed into the mold of his palms. He cupped the lush swell of her breasts, the sharp cinch of her waist to rest his palm on her firm behind. She felt so perfect in his arms. So alluring. So feminine. From her skin to her lips to her breathy moans, everything about her was soft and yielding.
Everything about Jonathan was hard and unyielding. From his firm grip on her body, to his broad shoulders that she clung to, to the insistent pressure of his lips against hers. So hard. So forceful. So overwhelmingly male that it made Julia melt inside and out. The muscles she had admired from a distance were pressed against her. She reached out to feel those hard muscles tense and roll beneath her fingertips.
They carried on kissing and caressing. It was violent and tender at the same time. Abruptly she seized his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down hard but he hardly seemed to mind. He simply growled in response and bit right back. The sensation was surprisingly pleasant; made up of the same heady concoction of pain and pleasure that she had sampled upon his knee.
The sting from the spanking had lessened some by now but the friction of her heated cheeks against his lap made her acutely aware that the ache was still there. Though an ache of a different sort was swiftly drawing focus. All the yearning and frustration and pleasure seemed to be centered in one tiny spot between her thighs. When the rough fabric of his breeches barely grazed that sensitive place, it sent a rush of heat and wetness there that drove every rational thought from her head.
Julia was quite accustomed to this game- the game of seduction. She knew the moves and countermoves of power and desire by heart. What she was not at all accustomed to was being outmatched.
And as the kiss intensified she had to admit that she was indeed outmatched. Hopelessly and delightfully outmatched. She had supposed a taste would do to rid her of her interest in the man. Oh, how wrong she had been. Clearly a small taste would never be enough. She needed to devour Jonathan, or be devoured by him. It no longer mattered, as long as her appetite was satisfied in the end.
Brusquely he broke the kiss, leaving her dizzy and gasping for breath. Before her head could clear he was hauling her onto her unsteady legs.
"Turn around." Julia followed his gruff command instinctively and he undid her laces with the ease of a practiced lady's maid. "Now take it off."
Jonathan stepped back and watched her shuffle off the fine silk dress. She would not have done it but something in his tone compelled her to obey. Something deep and primal.
Standing before him in nothing but a thin shift, she felt anxious and exposed but that primal drive still spurred her on as if she were in a trance. He let out a low groan of approval as she lifted her last shred of clothing over her head and onto the floor. No man had ever seen so much of her before and it made her feel vulnerable in the most thrilling way.
Jonathan's eyes meandering over her various charms without a trace of his usual disapproval. "On the sofa." He instructed.
The alacrity to which he took to giving orders was not something one would have expected from a man who received them all day. Clearly Jonathan was a very quick study.
Not wanting to give in quite so easily, Julia arched a defiant eyebrow. "And if I refuse?"
With one large stride Jonathan was upon her. He lifted her bodily and flung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. In spite of her kicking and cursing, he quickly crossed the room and deposited her unceremoniously onto the pompadour pink sofa.
His weight came down on top of her, effectively pinning her to the firm cushions. He readily dominated her with his superior strength. No matter how hard she twisted she remained firmly lodged beneath his rigid body. It made her feel anxious and frustrated and excited, all at the same time.
"No more games, little girl." He warned, his eyes glittered with both peril and promise. As a last resort she clawed at him, scoring his neck with her nails.
He swore under his breath and then caught her wrists with one hand, trapping both her arms above her head. With his free hand, he made quick work of the fall of his breeches and took his erect organ in hand. She gasped in a mixture of fear and anticipation as she examined the formidable implement. It was long, hard and unyielding, like the rest of the man. Slowly, teasingly, he rubbed the blunt tip back and forth between her thighs. He teased and tormented for some time until she was panting and all but begging for more.
"Tell me to stop." He said, his rough voice had a plaintive edge as if he was pleading with her to end this madness. But she was as far gone as he was. Well past the point of no return. That point had vanished beyond the horizon the moment they'd first touched.
"Never."
Swiftly he entered her, causing a jolt of pain as he rent her maidenhead asunder. She felt the walls of her sex gradually stretch to accommodate his thickness, aided by her slippery arousal. He steadily slid the rest of his length inside of her until they were fully joined before progressively withdrawing.
She cried out at the intrusion, feeling impossibly full to the point of discomfort. But he was soon soothing the ache with diverting kisses. First, he explored her mouth then he worked his way down the column of her neck. When he reached her breasts, he sucked her nipple into his mouth and suckled until she was gasping and thrashing beneath him. All the while Jonathan set a steady rocking rhythm, demonstrating a cool control that drove her wild.
"Move your hips for me. Show me how bad you want it." He commanded, his voice came out in a low and throaty hum. She complied, tilting her pelvis to bring him deeper inside her. "That's it. Good girl."
He plunged into her over and over while tightening his grip on her wrists. She strained against his unyielding hold- not to break free but to fully explore the sense of powerlessness. The feeling was like some potent drug, it drained her of her willpower and filled her with the intoxicating urge to submit. To revel in her surrender. To drown in it til there was nothing left of her but a blissful oblivion.
She shut her eyes and gave herself over to the feeling completely. The initial discomfort was long gone, replaced by a steadily building tension that was at once torturous and sublime. Working her hips even harder, she ground against his hard length. She wanted so badly to please Jonathan. She arched and moaned, wordlessly offering herself for him to take her and use her and do whatever he wanted with her body.
Julia was offering herself to Jonathan and, heaven help him, he took what she offered. It was impulsive... and foolish... and so wonderful that if he should live to be a hundred he would never regret it.
Jonathan could hardly believe his luck as he looked over the enchantress writhing beneath him. With her mouth open and her eyes shut in transported pleasure, she looked even more stunning in her surrender. The transformation was rather dramatic and practically miraculous; from hissing hellcat to mewling kitten.
Too preoccupied to ponder her metamorphosis any further, he surged into her with hard, demanding thrusts. Roughly, he pushed her legs wider to accommodate every last inch of him. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was. How much he desired her and cared for her. But he could only kiss her madly, reveling in her heated sighs of submission.
At some points his precise, controlled lovemaking had dissolved into a raw, savage rutting. By Jove, Julia alone had the ability to strip him of his steely control. Deep down he knew he shouldn't be treating a gently bred maiden in such a brutish manner but he couldn't resist her soft pleas and needy whimpers. They urged him to new levels of savagery.
Jonathan followed her unspoken cues to give her what she needed, trying his best not to come apart in the process. She was too delectable. It was becoming harder and harder to hold back with her wet, heat engulfing him. But he managed and within minutes he had brought her to the top of a dizzying peak. He could tell by her change in breathing that she was near to her release. Her legs had slid around his waist, gripping him tight. She entwined her hands with his to cling to him, as if afraid of the perilous abyss before her. Yet he refused to relent. He was going to make her spend or die trying. And if she didn't spend soon he very well might.
When his control had reached its absolute limit, he slid his hand down to caress the nub of flesh at the top of her quim. He strummed the little bud vigorously. The friction forced her up and over the brink of bliss in seconds. She screamed out her climax, the shuddery tremors of ecstasy wracking her body. The rhythmic pulses of her channel tightened around his cock pushed him over the very same peak. Pleasure shot through him with the speed and force of a thunder bolt. He pulled from her just in time to send hot lashings of cream across her belly.
Jonathan knew better than to finish inside of her. Even at the height of delirious pleasure he could never forget himself enough to put the lady at undue risk. She was far too dear to him for that.
Finally sated and utterly contented, he collapsed beside her, cradling her tight while her trembling subsided. For a long while they lay still, entwined and panting. Eventually Jonathan took Julia's face in his hands and kissed her from her damp forehead to her delicate chin.
"Good heavens."
That was all she said, which was more than Jonathan could manage in his breathless stupor. But he was certainly thinking something very much along those lines.
As the sun rose over a new day Julia found herself in the familiar morning room as two familiar footmen came in with familiar silver trays. With the cast and setting all the same, the scene was set very much like the day before.
To the casual observers it would appear that nothing in fact had changed, besides perhaps the way Miss Julia sat on the divan with a bit more care, but to the savvier onlooker there was definitely something different. There was a subtle shift in the room. A different energy like the air after a storm.
Julia certainly noticed it, she was quite certain Jonathan had too and she was equally certain William did not. Julia trusted that news of the night before would never be heard below stairs. She just instinctively knew that Jonathan would never do anything to hurt her. He was far too loyal for that.
Oblivious of the change, William carried on with business as usual, presenting her with a tray of tea things. "Scones with clotted cream for you Miss Julia. I know how you favor the cream." He remarked with a slightly over-the-top smirk.
"I found I have rather lost my taste for it." She waved away the tray. "That will be all William."
The lad made an exaggerated look of wretchedness and skulked away.
With William gone Julia found herself alone with Jonathan. She dropped her gaze to the floor and pretended to be suddenly very interested in the carpet. She couldn't bring herself to look at him now that she was aware of certain intimate details; his masculine smell, the feel of his stubble against her cheek, the impact of his hand against her bottom, the delicious ache of his manhood thrusting into her. That last though made her blush furiously.
Julia shifted in her seat, unable to find a comfortable position for her punished posterior. "Jonathan, please tell Anna not to worry about my riding habit. I shan't be riding today." After her spanking the idea of bouncing about on a hard saddle no longer appealed to her.
Plainly Jonathan could read her thoughts because she make out from the corner of her eye that he was wearing an expression of self-satisfaction that he only slightly deserved.
"As you wish, Miss Julia." He replied flatly.
A stilted silence followed, complete with a succession of downcast glances and awkward throat clearing. Julia wanted to tell him how much she trusted him. How much she desired him and cared for him.
"About last night-" she started and then faltered.
"You have another invitation from the Willoughby's for a night of whist." Jonathan cut in, stiffly handing her the card. "Shall I arrange for the carriage later?"
Their eyes finally met and they exchanged a look that held a thousand meanings, making words seem rather superfluous.
She felt the sensation again, the profound warmth in her core that she felt when he was deep inside her. It filled her with the dizzying desire to please him. To award his loyalty and affection with obedience in any form he saw fit, particularly if it came in the form of hot spankings and even hotter embraces.
Perhaps loyalty wasn't such a dull quality after all. And obedience clearly had its advantages.
"I think I'd rather stay in tonight." She eventually answered. In response Jonathan rewarded her with an approving smile. A sight as rare as rooster's eggs and as lovely as a summer frost. "Who knows, perhaps I'll even try to knit."
To which they both laughed out loud.
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