thunderbolt—the reality of it as frightening as anything he'd ever experienced.
Somehow, he'd fallen in love with his wife. Yes, that was it. If he never spanked her
again, he would still love her. If she denied him her regard, he would spend the rest of
his days working to earn it.
He turned from her, lest she read his face. He had to examine this new feeling of
freedom that had suddenly hit him out of the blue. He had much to make up for before
he could tell her his feelings. She would never believe him if he simply blurted out the
words. He would show her with actions, not words.
"You should rest, dear, while I tend to some business. I shall check on you later,
if I might."
"Yes, of course." Serenity disappeared through the wall panel, and Lucien set his
mind to work. He would win his wife's love or die trying. Suddenly, nothing seemed
more important or worthwhile.
* * * * *
Serenity managed to reach her chamber before all the emotion she'd kept so
carefully controlled came bursting forth. It appeared to her Martyn had fabricated much
of the story about the Italian authorities. She'd been wrong in not reporting Winsor's
death, and as Signor Mosca had said, she would live with that for the rest of her days.
Winsor had deserved better from her, and she'd only thought of her own safety. She
would ask God to forgive her, for he was the only one who could. Winsor was gone.
Her tender thoughts turned to the man who had introduced her to the sensual
world of sexual satisfaction. He'd not much more to carry him through life, but the man
knew his way around a woman's body. He also taught her about pleasing him,
something she'd not felt inclined to make terribly obvious to her husband, lest he
suspect her activities. However, the point was moot, as he knew almost everything.
When he checked on her later, she would tell him everything. From there they
could either start over or end it all, but she did not want to have anymore secrets
between them.
She rang for Marjorie and set about preparing for one more confrontation with
Lucien.
Chapter Seventeen
It was nearly three in the morning before Lucien felt he could leave the club and
go to check on his wife. He hoped she would be sleeping, for she'd gotten precious little
of it in the preceding months.
When he entered her chamber through the adjoining door, he was surprised to
find her awake, sitting prettily on a forest-green chaise, reading a book. Her dark brown
curls tumbled about her shoulders, framing her pale, youthful face. She was a vision of
beauty, he thought, looking much younger than she did just twelve hours before. He
knew then a weight had been surely lifted from her shoulders. He took pleasure in the
fact that he'd had some small part in that, if only by asking Prentice to help.
"Are you well?"
"Yes, quite well, and you?"
"I am fine." He tugged at his neckcloth as he walked to the window.
"And the club? All as it should be?"
"Oh, yes, much as always. Prentice is down there watching over things."
"I see. Is something amiss, Lucien?"
"Yes, I suppose it is."
Serenity stood and walked to where Lucien stood by the window. "Please tell me
what it is."
He turned to her, his face a study in sadness. "I fear I have destroyed whatever
modicum of trust you may have had in me, and the loss pains me."
She'd thought of this very subject dozens of times during their weeks of silence,
concluding she'd forgiven him long ago for her last spanking and even for his mistrust
in her. She'd never been one to foster anger or grudges, thinking it as nonproductive as
learning to embroider. She rested her hand on his folded arm.
"I have forgiven you, Lucien. I understand you were angry. Please come with
me." She took his hand and led him down the hallway to the punishment room.
Inside, with the door shut, she spoke the words she'd only thought before. "I
wanted to bring you to this room so I wouldn't be fearful of coming here again. I forgive
you, but I believe this has changed us, has it not?"
"I hope it hasn't, but I understand if you feel differently about our arrangement."
He looked so sad, and Serenity empathized. She'd cried several rivers as she
thought about how it would be impossible to continue with the specter of his anger
coming to the fore ever again.
"I cannot submit to you as I did, Lucien, with the constant fear you will lose
control. You don't care for me in any kind of protective way; therefore, I have to protect
myself."
"I can't say my anger won't ever flair again, but I am a great deal more aware of
my capacity for it now and shall endeavor to use the utmost restraint. You are wrong as
well. I do feel protective toward you. If I did not, I wouldn't have had Prentice go to
Italy. If I did not, I wouldn't be here now."
She acknowledged what he said with a nod. "We must set down new rules."
"I am amenable to anything that will make this right for you."
"As I said before, I won't submit to being restrained again. It is the most helpless
feeling, Lucien, and I won't be put into that situation again."
"I understand I broke your trust, my dear, and again, I am terribly sorry. I won't
restrain you, I promise."
"I want to continue with our arrangement."
She knew by telling him that she wished to continue, he would know her trust in
him wasn't completely gone. In the hours since her exoneration, she'd realized she cared
deeply for him and feared he would never feel anything close in return.
Lucien had a feeling he knew where Serenity intended to take this conversation,
and he bristled. He greatly feared he would hurt her yet again, but this time in a much
more insidious way.
"I am pleased you wish to proceed, with the concession of no restraints as you
have requested." His tone was mellifluous, not betraying in any way the fear he felt in
his heart.
"I would like to forego the spankings using any implement other than your hand.
I would feel much more comfortable, if you don't mind."
"Of course, I don't mind, and I completely understand." He found it difficult to
make light of the idea that their sexual relations would resume as he saw fit. He'd
missed her these last weeks. Though he'd kept his regular appointments with his
clients, he'd not fucked them. His heart had not been in it.
"When shall we start?"
"I shall leave it up to you, my dear. You are the aggrieved party, and I don't wish
to foist myself upon you against your will."
Serenity had moved across the room while they'd talked. Now she came back to
stand in front of him. She took the lapels of his coat, and before he could blink, she
removed it and sat it on the chair beside the bed. Deftly, she undid the buttons of his
waistcoat and shirt. Lucien stood stock-still as she removed the two pieces of clothing
from his body. She explored with her hands, stopping ever so briefly to rub her
forefinger over his nipples. He flinched.
Next, she lowered herself to her knees as she released the buttons of his breeches
from their moorings and slid the finely tailored linen over his hips and down his legs.
She traced her hands over the same path, causing Lucien to suck in a deep breath as she
lingered on his inner thighs. He wore no small clothes, making it easier for her.
"Do you mind?" she asked as she took his arousal in her hand, stroking slowly.
"No, I certainly don't."
Lucien became lost in her ministrations. She unhanded him, moving on to his
buttocks. She allowed her fingers into the crevice between his cheeks, lingering at the
sensitive pucker.
With no time for thought, Lucien took her arms and raised her to her feet. He
captured her mouth at first tenderly and then with more urgency.
Too much time had passed since he'd tasted her, and he reveled in her essence.
Their tongues danced together, thrusting and parrying, trying to get closer then pulling
apart. He feared he was bruising her lips, but he couldn't seem to get close enough to
her. His hands were just as busy, exploring her breasts and derriere.
As he ravished her mouth, he turned her toward the cheval mirror that stood in a
corner near the bed. He released her mouth, eliciting a mournful groan. Then he turned
her, so her back pressed into his chest.
"What do you see, Serenity?" His hands rested on her slender, white shoulders.
"I see us."
He slid his hands down her arms, touching every inch of her delicate, creamy
skin.
He insisted she watch in the mirror as he did so. "What do you see?" he repeated
in hot, whispered tones.
He cupped her face, soft hands, thumbs trailing the over the well-defined cheek
and jawbones. "Your face is so delicately made. Your lips are perfection, enticing me to
kiss them for no reason at all but for the taste of them." Her head lolled back against his
shoulder but Lucien quietly commanded, "Open your eyes. I want you to see what I
see."
He slid his hands down until they surrounded her long, swan-like neck. "I
imagine your lovely neck would do justice to jewels of every description." He saw her
smile and look at him from under her eyelashes. He leaned to kiss the back of her neck
and trailed kisses around until he reached the delicate part just under her chin. He
smiled when she swallowed with difficulty under his lips.
Lucien's hands made their way to the ties at the front of her night rail, unlacing
the delicate ribbon that held it closed over her breasts. When he was done, he opened
the front, exposing her breasts to the chill night air. With the short sleeves tightly
around her arms, she was bound by him and his ministrations. He took the pliant flesh
in his hands, rubbing his thumbs across the hard, pebbled nipples, which had stood so
tantalizingly erect long before he ever touched them. "Are these anxious for attention,
Serenity?"
She nodded.
"Soon." He continued to tease her breasts, squeezing the lovely, distended
nipples between his thumb and forefinger with significant pressure. She groaned her
approval. Every time she closed her eyes, Lucien coaxed her to open them.
"I just want to feel," she said.
"I want you to see me touch you, as well as see your reaction." His gaze locked
upon hers.
Lucien removed the night rail, gliding it over her skin. At last, she stood naked
against him. The top of her head did not even reach his chin. Although tiny and
delicate, the woman had a determination he'd rarely seen in any man. This exercise was
as much for him as for her, for he wanted to know her body again. He wanted to
experience the softness of her belly that his hands had so casually glided over
numerous times and never stopped to explore.
He trailed his hand lower, touching her cleanly shaven mons. "Mmm," he
hummed in her ear. His palm slid over the smooth skin as his fingers dipped lower,
teasing her clitoris before disappearing into her wet folds, clearly waiting for his
attention. "You are dripping, Serenity."
She gasped. "Yes, I am."
He entered her with two fingers, arching them up to tease. Then he removed
them and brought his fingers to her mouth. "Do you taste the nectar of your desire?"
Her knees seemed to grow weak, and she trembled against him. He clutched her
shoulders and slid his palms down her back, thumbs on her spine, inching over the
delicately defined bones. He resolved to kiss every inch of it, often. He began, and she
trembled against him even more unsteadily. "Hold onto the mirror, dear, and keep your
eyes open."
He kissed his way to the soft globes of her bottom. "What does that feel like?" he
asked.
"Heaven," she answered with an angel's whisper.
His breath caught as he saw for the first time the result of his loss of control. He'd
left her with reddened ridges where her delicate skin had been broken under his lash.
His heart leapt in his chest, remorse overtaking him. He kissed her derriere, every inch,
reverently touching, placing his face against her and kissing her again.
"Lean forward just a bit."
She readily complied. His hand slid between the cheeks and found the taut, pink
entrance. He would never get tired of seeing it, breaching its boundaries, and plunging
himself within those tight walls. She wiggled against his hand.
He reached for a bottle and moistened his finger with the lavender-scented oil.
"You have the most beautiful bottom, Serenity." He applied the oil and pushed his
finger into her. "Can you feel how your body takes my finger in so easily?"
Serenity nodded, and her eyes floated closed.
"No, open your eyes. That's it. I want you to see how you react to this."
"I can't." Her gaze implored him.
"But you can. I want to bring you an awareness you have never experienced
before."
"Oh, Lucien, please," she begged in a deep, sensuous murmur.
"What do you want?"
"More." She groaned as his finger slid in and out.
He replaced the one with two and continued his movements as a thumb circled
her clitoris. She moved with him, trying to bring herself closer to where her need was
greatest. She mumbled and groaned, and reacted to his touch by moving, wiggling,