A Scandalous Arrangement (18 page)

“Don’t you dare! I would die of mortification if anyone knew I had been here, with you.”

“Ah, Miss Wynne, ever the traditionalist at heart despite your brave words about coping with parenthood alone. I am heartened by your time-honoured values, not to mention your staunch Protestant work ethic. I appreciate those qualities in a business partner.”

Victoria set down her fork. “Please do not mock me, Mr. Luke.”

He glanced across at her, his expression sharp. Knowing.

“I did not intend to.”

“Tradition is fine for those with suitably ordered lives. My own is not so tranquil. I do what I have to do. I intend to survive, Mr. Luke, and to prosper if I am able. I hope to offend no one, but…” She halted, aware her voice had risen. She was admonishing him and she knew enough already to appreciate that would not be tolerated. “I am sorry. I did not mean to shout at you.”

Victoria folded her hands in her lap, acutely conscious now of her nakedness, her vulnerability. She had felt sensual a moment before, seductive even. Now, she simply felt ridiculous. And scared.

Adam laid his utensils aside and stood. He came around the table and leaned over her. His hands slid under her hips and her knees and he lifted her in his arms.

He is taking me back to the bed. To spank me? Or worse?
Victoria cringed but did not protest or plead.

He did not do that though. Instead he turned and seated himself in the chair he had taken her from, with Victoria cradled in his lap. He held her, his hands warm on her back and shoulders as he pulled her to his chest and kissed her hair.

“I am the one who should apologise, sweetheart, not you. I do, most sincerely. I was insensitive, but I was teasing. I did not mean to hurt you. Do you believe that?”

“Yes, I do believe you.” And she did, though she could not have said why.

“If I joke with you, it is because I am at ease. I would never mock you, or your choices. I respect you too much for that.”

“I… oh.”

“In fact, respect is not the correct word. Rather, I am in awe of you. I admire your courage and your tenacity, not to mention your loyalty to those you care about.”

“Oh. I thought… Oh.”

“What did you think, Victoria? That I saw an opportunity to exploit a beautiful but vulnerable woman and took advantage? That I only want your body, and whatever money you might make for me?”

“I suppose… yes, I suppose it was something like that.”

“You are beautiful and I do want you. And of course it would be churlish not to acknowledge that your business acumen is another of your fine qualities. But there is much more to the lovely Miss Victoria Wynne than that. I see it, and I hardly know you. Your family sees it, as do your staff. You are adored by all around you.”

“Oh, I do not think…”

He tipped up her chin with his hand and laid his finger across her lips to silence her.

“You are. Believe me when I say that too.”

Victoria stared at him, but said no more. She needed to think.

Adam smiled down at her. “So, now we have that settled, we should plan the rest of our weekend. I suggest we remain here for tonight, enjoy this fine meal while it remains warm, then retire back to the bed. I intend to demonstrate the more delicate uses to which a cane may be applied, and I intend to fuck you again. Several times, I expect. Unless you are too sore, in which case I might agree to delay that until the morning. Then tomorrow we could take a stroll together. Hyde Park is lovely at this time of year.”

“A walk? You intend to be seen out with me? In public?”

“Of course. And since you defied my orders and brought far too much luggage with you, it seems a pity not to give at least one outfit an airing, wouldn’t you think?”

“I was not defiant. I explained—”

“I know. I know. The bulging bags were for appearances’ sake.” He paused, his expression becoming more serious for a moment. “Joking and respect, remember.”

Victoria grinned back at him, her inner confidence restored. “Of course. I have not visited Hyde Park since I was a child.”

“Then it is settled. We will take a stroll along the Serpentine, and afterwards I will see you back to the station and onto your train. But enough talk of your leaving. You have only just nicely arrived. Can I tempt you to finish your meal now?”

Victoria nodded, her appetite restored along with her self-belief. She reached for her fork once more, but made no move to vacate Adam’s lap. He too seemed content with their arrangement.

And the chicken was quite delicious.

“Stand in front of the chair, lean forward, and place your hands on the arms.” Adam eyed Victoria, his gaze appraising. He would not usually use a cane so early in a relationship with a new submissive, but his instinct told him this would be just what Victoria needed. Her courage and curiosity were rampant and he intended to widen her horizons considerably on this, their first real liaison. She would return to Hebden Bridge with much to consider.

She stepped forward and did as he instructed.

“Shoulders down and lift your bottom a little more, please. Present your lovely derrière to me.”

“I must be mad,” she muttered, but did as he asked anyway. He chose not to take issue with her irreverent remark. A first caning was always a demanding event; a submissive was entitled to question her sanity, he supposed.

Adam sauntered across the bedroom to his bag, which he had left under the window. He knew she followed him with her eyes, twisting her neck to keep him in view. He crouched by the valise and opened the lid.

He heard her faint gasp when he retrieved the narrow cane and stood to face her. The rattan flexed between his hands as he walked back across the room. Victoria paled, but did not shift from her position. He needed to ensure that she did not move, at least this first time. She had consented to this, but she might still wriggle or worse still she might forget herself and attempt to protect her buttocks with her hands.

He gave her a playful pat on her upturned bottom before going over to the foot of the bed to pick up the rope he had used to tie her wrists to the bedpost and that now lay in an untidy coil on the floor. He returned to the chair and laid the cane across the seat, right under her nose.

“This will be a light caning. We are still playing, remember. Even so, it will smart and you could be tempted to put your hands back to protect yourself. It’s a natural reaction, but I cannot allow that. It would be dangerous if I catch your fingers or wrists. I am going to tie your hands to the chair to make sure you are safe.”

He had phrased his intention as a statement rather than a request, but even so, if she had protested, he wouldn’t have forced the issue. She needed to accept this, and to trust him. He waited, the rope looped in his hands.

He was rewarded with a slight nod. It was enough. He wasted no time in securing her wrists to the chair arms, then reached for the cane. He moved to stand behind her, taking the opportunity to admire her perfect smooth globes. She truly did have an arse made for spanking. And more. He had yet to fuck her there, but he would, before long. She had already allowed him to examine and probe her rear hole; he knew she would go the rest of the way if he was patient and gentle enough.

The rounded cheeks of her bottom were pale, no hint now of residual pinkness from the few slaps he administered earlier. She was a blank canvas, his to paint.

“As this is the first time for you, I think five strokes will be ample. Two on each buttock, and the final one across both thighs. It will hurt when you sit, for a couple of days at least.”

“But, you promised not to hit me very hard.” She sounded almost indignant.

“And I will not. But it will sting even so. You would be disappointed if it did not, I think.”

He was not entirely sure what her response to that was as she muttered it into the cushions a few inches from her face. He could guess.

“Do you remember the word we agreed upon? If you need me to stop?”

“Yes. It was dancer.”

“Good. Remember it. I hope never to hear that word from you, but I will honour it if I do. You may rely on that.”

“Thank you, sir, I… oh!”

Her cry of alarm was in response to his laying the cane across her smooth buttocks. He did not strike her, merely rested the implement on her skin, pressing it into her flesh.

“We start now. Concentrate.” His tone was curt, cool, deliberately stern. He found it hard to be otherwise when he had a cane in his hand and a naked woman before him. He gazed at her arse for a few more moments, deciding his approach, then opted for the safest choice.

He slid the cane back and forth across her right buttock in a sawing motion. She clenched, her bottom quivering as she tensed up. He continued to stroke her with the cane, watching as her body braced for the expected blow, then loosened again as no assault came. Only when she was soft and relaxed did he flick his wrist to raise the cane and drop it sharply across her skin.

Victoria yelped and tugged at her restraints. He had been right to tie her up.

He laid his palm over the bright red stripe now etched across her pale buttock. She flinched as he rubbed in a large circular motion. “So, how was that? Not too bad?”

“It hurt. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“I know.” He offered no further comfort, but continued to massage her bottom until she was writhing under his hand.

Satisfied she was ready to continue, Adam laid the cane on the other cheek, and started the sawing motion once more. Victoria groaned, her shoulders dropping as she raised her bottom for him. He was sure this was an unconscious reaction, yet more evidence of her innate submissive nature. She took longer to relax this time, but he was patient. Her muscles would lose their tension eventually, her bottom would be soft and receptive, and that would be the moment to strike. The very instant she softened he flicked his wrist and dropped the next stroke right across her left cheek.

This time she danced on her toes, squealing. “Sir, sir, ooh. Ow.”

“That good, eh? Tell me when you’re ready for the next one.”

Despite her obvious response Victoria settled quickly, her breath coming in shallow pants now. But there was no safe word forthcoming. Instead, she turned her face to him and offered a tremulous smile. “I am ready now, sir.”

He did not reply. Instead he resumed his position and commenced preparations on her right buttock, an inch or so below the first stripe. He would be careful not to hit the same spot twice, and he had always prided himself on his accuracy with the cane. He would leave her with a set of perfectly symmetrical marks to admire in the privacy of her room back in Yorkshire.

He slid the cane across her bottom, smiling to himself as she cringed. She was loving this, he could tell, and hating it at the same time—not an uncommon reaction to a first caning. He was glad he had opted for just five strokes on this occasion; more might have tipped the balance and he had no wish to discourage her. As it was she would be ambivalent and probably confused by her own response.

Victoria went still, her breathing slowing. She was calm, collected, waiting. He did not draw out the suspense. Another delicate flick of his wrist and the cane danced across her quivering buttock to trace a perfect red line just below the previous one. Victoria let out a shrill yelp and came up onto her toes. She was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, hopping about as the pain sank deeper.

“Sir, please…”

“Do you want to stop?” He mentally crossed his fingers. “Just two to go now.”

“I’m not sure. It hurts so much.”

“You have a choice, Victoria. I won’t force you.” He could discern the dispassionate, stern timbre in his voice. He had no wish to be unduly harsh, but in his experience it was the most effective way to get a submissive to focus in this sort of situation, and to commit to the scene. Or leave it if she so chose.

“I know that. I, I want to finish, sir.”

“Good girl. You’re doing very well, by the way. I’m proud of you.”

She turned her head to look up at him, her eyes filled with tears but a wide smile across her trembling features. “Thank you, sir.”

By way of a reply he laid his hand across her recently caned buttock and caressed the soft curve. The weals left by his cane were just starting to swell; he could feel them against his palm. She lifted her bottom higher, pressing against his hand.

“Open your legs for me, sweetheart.” His tone was softer now, coaxing rather than commanding. It worked. She spread her thighs and leaned further forward, presenting him with a superb view of her drenched pussy.

Adam shifted his hand to draw a long, slow stroke across her wet folds. “Is this all for me, little one?”

“I suppose it must be. I… don’t know what is happening. This is so strange.”

“I told you that you are a slut. You suggested I might be mistaken, but here is the evidence.” He slid his hand, now wet with her juices, across her left buttock, the one yet to receive a second stroke of the cane. “But you are
my
slut, my own sweet whore who loves to be whipped. Is this not true?”

“No, I don’t think…”

Adam slipped his hand between her thighs again, and this time drove two fingers deep into her cunt. She started to convulse around him immediately. He withdrew and proceeded to tap her plump clit. “Are you quite sure of that, Victoria? You may argue, but your body tells me a different story. Listen.”

He thrust his fingers back inside her and finger-fucked her vigorously for several moments. The lewd sounds of her slick, wet arousal were unmistakable. Victoria moaned, whether in humiliated mortification or desperate lust he was uncertain. Not that it mattered. She was his; her submission a most beautiful thing to behold.

“Two more strokes, then I will allow to you to climax. Would you like me to fuck you again?”

Her response was unhesitant. “Yes. I want that, sir.”

He took a fistful of her hair and twisted it around his hand, forcing her to turn her head towards him again. He leaned down, his face just inches from hers. “Then you shall have it. You shall have everything you want, because you are my sweet slut.” He brushed his lips across hers, noting the dryness there. He needed to conclude this, and get some water into her.