Page 15 of In Service to the Duke

The brisk shake of her head as she pulls her lips inside her mouth to keep from speaking feels genuine and not some act contrived to draw out the domineering disciplinarian. Perhaps her actions are not a farce after all? Even so, her flesh will feel my wrath.

This time, no shift will protect her. It will be her bare arse quivering beneath the stern palm of my hand. Looking her up and down, I take in the strands of hair threatening to escape their confines. How I wish to pull out the pins holding it aloft so it can slide against my skin as she rides me hard.

Fuck me, but this is not how this interaction is supposed to go. Hell, if not for Mother, she would have already been gone and I would have happily taken matters into my own hands and flogged the bishop in the privacy of my own chambers as I drove her from my mind. But she’s here and seems to have no intention of leaving.

“Do you have a reason for defying me as you do?”

She shakes her head.

“You will answer me if I ask you a direct question.”

“No, Your Grace. I merely pointed out to your sisters the proper action of a gentleman.”

“Proper,” I snort. “And you are an authority of what’s proper?”

“I am employed to be, Your Grace.”

“Employed does not mean you are qualified. I was not privy to your being hired, and as such, I know nothing of your qualifications.”

“Your mother seems to think I’m qualified enough.”

With a smirk, I shake my head. “That was not a question I asked. Such a disobedient little governess, aren’t you?”

“Only when provoked, Your Grace.”

“That, Miss, was not a question. Merely a rhetorical statement. Tell me, why do you vex me so?”

“I suppose that is a question for you and your priest. I cannot begin to ascertain as to why you are so threatened by me.”

“Threatened,” I laugh, the bark of mirth sounding foreign to my ears. “I assure you, if anyone is threatened, it is you.”

Her lips purse together, but she remains silent.

“Allow me to amend that,” I nearly purr, enticing her to give me the answer I want. “Are you threatened by me?”

“Not in the slightest, Your Grace.” She shifts about, her mental fortifications cracking.

“You mean to tell me, honestly, as you stand there right now, there’s not some bit of you quivering in fear?”

“N- no, Your Grace.” Her uneasy arousal burns my nose.

“And if I were to slide up your skirts right now, what would I find?”

“I- You would find nothing, Your Grace.”

“Oh, so you are quite healed from your injury then?” My lips curl up into a feral grin as I bait her.

“As you said yourself, Your Grace, I am uninjured. Pray we get this over with so I can resume my duties.”

“And if I were to inspect you, can you honestly tell me you’re not just sodden underneath all that prim and proper clothing?”

Her face turns pink as she looks away. “I cannot lie to you, Your Grace. You claim I’m uninjured, and yet… and yet…”

“And yet…” A dark chuckle ripples from my lips as I watch her squirm about.

Standing, I adjust my cravat, my balls clenching as I fiddle with the knot before sliding it off. Yet another scrap of fabric to be sacrificed at the altar of keeping my deviance a secret from the rest of the staff. Honestly, though, between her lips is the perfect resting place.

“Open.”