Bad Kitty (4 page)

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Authors: Debra Glass

BOOK: Bad Kitty
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The defiant look in her midnight eyes had aroused him beyond sanity. And her breasts…

He inhaled.

Her breasts were perfection. Small with large, dusky nipples, ripe for the touch. It had taken all his self-control not to cup them in his hands, tweak her nipples between his forefingers and thumbs and tug each one until he learned her threshold.

He had sought only to frighten her away but she’d stood her ground and, when she had openly challenged him, he had not been able to resist moving to the next step.

What spell had this bespectacled virgin cast over him?

Bram banged his fist down on his desk and slammed his account book shut. Damn, damn and damn again!

He should have called her ruse. He should have exposed her on the spot and declared she leave immediately. This was no place for a virtuous girl of her age.

Still, he could not drive her from his thoughts.

Her willing submission…

The fragrance of her cream…

He had felt her heat through those drawers and knowing he was the one who affected her, who had driven her to the edge of desire, made his cock swell painfully.

Bram leaned back and stretched one long leg out straight in a futile attempt to assuage the pressure. His gaze fell on the tiny stain on the crotch of his breeches. Damn it all to hell. He was already oozing for her.

Debating, he considered taking this matter into his own hand. Right here. Right now. But it had been years since he had been humbled to the behavior of a boy in the throes of puberty.

Perhaps he should go straight to his rooms and show her the beast that raged between his legs. Maybe then she would be frightened enough to tuck her tail and run.

He shot to his feet and strode with purpose toward his rooms. “You there!” he snapped at a shocked servant.

When she turned though, he saw that it was not Katrina. “Where is she?”

“Who, Master?”

“The new girl.”

The maid gulped, staring.

“The new girl. Kitty Hartley,” Bram said.

“I am not familiar with a Kitty Hart—”

But Bram was already headed toward the housekeeper’s office. Perhaps Katrina had come to her senses and made good her escape. Common sense told Bram that would be the best thing. He should not be entertaining ideas about virgins when there was a plethora of other women willing and able to do his bidding.

The long walk to Mrs. Bush’s office did little, however, to calm his rampant lust. He pushed the door open without knocking and eyed a stunned Mrs. Bush. “Where is Miss Hartley?” he demanded.

Instead of dropping into a curtsey, Mrs. Bush stiffened, her resolve incongruous with her thin, birdlike body. “I sent her to the kitchens.”

Bram stared. “The kitchens?”

“I thought her impertinent and cheeky. A day in the kitchens will do her no harm.”

Bram inhaled. “Woman, how dare you defy me?”

“You sent no note with her. No letter of recommendation. How was I to know she wasn’t merely being deceitful? It wouldn’t be the first time—”

Bram cut her off. “It is your business to know. And if it happens again, I shall send you packing.”

At that, Mrs. Bush lowered her gaze. “I will transfer the girl at once, Master.”

Bram started to turn to leave but then he stopped. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll get her myself.”

* * * * *

 

Kitty had come to the conclusion that Mrs. Bush hated her. There was some reason the woman had secreted her away in the kitchen, openly defying the earl’s orders. Cook had kept such an eye on Kitty and Alice that neither of them had the opportunity to talk.

After stirring the venison stew, Kitty set the heavy wooden ladle aside and then wiped the perspiration from her brow. She peeled her sweat-drenched bodice off her chest. The kitchen was doubtless as hot as the fires of hell.

One of the male servants opened the door and brought in a bushel basket of potatoes. Upon seeing the basket, Kitty resisted the urge to groan. No doubt it would be her job to prepare the potatoes.

Her gaze drifted past the basket to the open door and the late-afternoon light spilling in. She could leave right now if she wanted to. She could slip out that door and disappear and no one would ever know…

Was any story worth this?

Perhaps she could just write what she already knew and investigate Bram through some other avenue of information.

A quick glance around the kitchen told her no one was paying her any attention. It was now or never.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she moved toward the door. Toward freedom.

“Kitty Hartley!”

The booming voice nearly made her jump out of her skin.

Kitty whirled, stunned when her gaze fell on Bram Barclay.

Her breath caught.

Unable to conceal their shock, every other person in the kitchen bowed at the sight of their master. Kitty openly gaped.

Bram’s massive frame dominated the doorway, almost completely blotting out the light from the other side. His face was hard and set, his eyes riveted only on her, and when her gaze met his, something possessive sparkled there that shook Kitty to the core. It was almost as if he seemed relieved to find her. Glad.

His gaze traveled down the length of her body and then lifted once more, making Kitty burn with the awareness that he had not only seen her practically naked, he had spanked her bottom and then demanded she pleasure herself while he watched.

Everything inside her grew so impossibly tight she thought if she moved, she would literally snap in half.

“Am I going to have to leash you like a dog, Kitty?” Bram asked.

She swallowed. Hard. “No…Master.” Something about referring to him as her master made Kitty’s insides turn to molten liquid that pooled in her abdomen.

“I assigned placement for you in my private chamber, did I not?”

Kitty’s face flamed. “Yes, Master.”

“Then what are you doing in the kitchen?”

Kitty knew better than to snitch on Mrs. Bush. Any answer she gave him would result in being…reprimanded. “I cannot say, Master.”

He appraised her for a heart-stopping moment. “Come with me.”

Kitty’s pulse pounded in her throat as she readily followed Bram, almost having to run to keep up with his wide strides.

Why had she not left when she’d had the chance? This was insanity. How could she be chasing so willingly after this blackguard when she knew what he was capable of?

He pushed open a door and Kitty found herself standing in a suite of sumptuous rooms.

“All others, out! Now!” he commanded and the servants scurried to do his bidding.

Awareness washed over Kitty. He was indeed going to punish her for her infraction. Now that they were alone, he could do anything he pleased to her. No one would heed her screams. No one would come to her rescue.

This was beyond mad.

It was dangerous.

And already, she felt her cream gathering in anticipation.

The door finally closed behind the last of the servants. Kitty’s heart hammered so hard, she could hear it pounding in her own ears.

Bram circled her and it was all she could do to force herself to remain still, to keep her eyes fixed on a decanter of liquor on a table across the room. She knew her breasts were heaving with her quick breaths but she could do little to lessen her rising panic.

Just tell him! Confess! Put a stop to this!

Finally he stopped in front of her. One of his long fingers caught her under the chin and he lifted her face so that she was forced to look into his eyes. “Have we met before?” he asked, his voice dropping into that sultry, black velvet drawl.

“No,” she said truthfully. While she had attended the same party, she had not been formally introduced to him.

Something diabolical flashed in his eyes. “Raise your skirts, Kitty.”

“Sir?”

“Now!” he roared, leaving Kitty with no choice but to comply.

Trembling, she pulled up her skirt.

“Bend over,” he said.

Her blood thickened and, as she bent, her channel began convulsing in expectation.

He moved around to her side, his gaze appraising her as she stood in this disgraceful, vulnerable position. “Do you know why I am punishing you, Kitty?”

“No,” she squeaked.

He snorted. “That’s two,” he said.

She jerked when he began to carefully, almost tenderly arrange her bunched skirts on her waist so that her backside was thoroughly exposed. Cool air tickled the backs of her thighs, drifting into the loose legs of her drawers.

“I’ll ask you again, Kitty,” he said, his voice dropping even lower in timbre. “Do you know why I am punishing you?”

Waiting for it was madness. She ached between the legs and trembled to feel his hand come down on her buttocks. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes that she was submitting to this, that she desired it. “No,” she whispered.

“Three,” he said with a wicked chuckle. “Have you forgotten that I am your master?”

Realization flooded her along with the memory of Mrs. Bush’s words.
I take it he has informed you how you are to address him?
“No…Master.”

“That’s better,” he said, and all the while his caressing hand moved over her rounded buttocks as if he were her lover instead of her nemesis. “You know you are to refer to me as master.”

Her legs and back strained from being bent. Her fists ached from clutching her skirts.

“Three violations,” he murmured seductively.

Heat radiated from his body, along with that spicy male scent that belonged only to him. It was driving Kitty out of her mind. She felt as if she had drunk too much wine. Wetness trickled down one of her thighs.

“For each breach of our agreement you have committed, you will ask to be punished,” he told her, while his fingertips traced her cleft through her drawers, down, down, stopping just when she arched toward his hand.

A hot blush burned in her cheeks. She could never
ask
him to spank her. It was beyond cruel of him. But right now, she would have done or said just about anything to get him to put his hand back on her
there
.

“We will stand here like this until you feel you deserve your punishment, Kitty.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, wringing the tears from her eyes. She could not do this. She simply could not ask—out loud—for this even though her body burned for it.

“Are your legs growing weak?” he asked. “Does your back ache?”

Yes…

“All you have to do is ask,” Bram said. “All you have to say is, ‘I deserve my punishment, Master. Please spank me’, and it will all be over.”

No…

What would happen if she just dropped her skirts and ran for the door? Would he allow her to escape or would he chase her down and plunge his member into her?

His hand slid between her legs, pushing up hard against her most private place, that place that so ached for his touch. “Do you burn here too, Kitty?”

Oh God, yes.
Kitty struggled to keep from losing her balance when all she wanted to do was spread her legs wider so that he could pleasure her. Heat raced up her spine, settling in her neck and face, and it no longer seemed to matter that he had coerced her to humiliate herself. But just when it seemed as if he might touch her the way she’d touched herself earlier, he withdrew his hand. Kitty ached from the absence of his teasing fingers. She whimpered.

“Tell your master what you want.” His voice was hypnotic. Insidious.

“I deserve my…punishment, Master,” she managed. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“Please…spank me.”

No sooner had she uttered the words than a hard, stinging slap descended on her buttocks.

Surprised, she yelped, nearly stumbling. This was not like the earlier spanking. He had turned it up a notch but the burning pain quickly subsided into delicious warmth that spread through her backside and down the backs of her legs.
Oh yes.

“One,” he said, breathlessly.

Kitty swallowed. She was bent with her skirts hiked around her waist but, when she asked for her
punishment
, she was in control of everything he did to her. Everything. “I deserve my punishment, Master. Please spank me.”

A thrill rushed through her body as the second blow fell. This time she heard herself moan. The sharp sting carried her totally into her body, stripping the shame, taking away the choice, giving her permission to
feel
.

There was no humiliation. No guilt. There was only this wonderful heat that made her aware of every inch of her body, of her inner desires she had feared and sought to quell.

One more…

“I deserve my punishment, Master. Please spank me,” she said with more authority this time.

Her heart skipped a beat as she waited…and then his palm made contact again and once again fire moved through her bottom, throbbing into a pulsating heat that traveled all over her body.

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