Page 89 of In Service to the Duke

I take her hand in mine, kissing her delicate wrist before cuffing it. Walking around the back where she can see me, I wink at her before taking her other wrist in hand. With a soft sigh, I breathe against her lovely skin, drinking in her intoxicating scent.

Now that she’s my wife, I have no worry of being trapped. Besides, for all the anger I had toward the situation, my heart already knew she was mine. I just had to bludgeon it into accepting its fate.

This time, when I look at her, there is no trace of Delilah. In fact, that I even compared the two is unfathomable to me. They are nothing alike. I was stupid and didn’t see the difference. But now, I do.

And it has nothing to do with her mother and seeing the witch’s true colors. Granted, it helped solidify what my mother already convinced me of. Now, the most important thing is helping my new bride understand her place and her lack of a mother in it.

I had no doubt my mother would step in and take her as her own. I’m just grateful she did. It warms my heart to know just how much love my little wife will have. The only thing standing in the way is the sorrow and guilt I still feel beating at her chest.

Though she did nothing wrong, I know she still harbors the sins of her mother. Once I can get her past that, she will truly be the magnanimous duchess I know she’s capable of. Her mother is a hunk of rotten, jagged metal holding her down, and I aim to set her free.

Walking over to my wall of implements, I grab the whip from The Rose and Thorne. Holding it in my hand, it feels like an old friend. As I walk closer, I unfurl it, tossing the tip in the air and yanking it back down, letting it pop close to her ear.

My little duchess jumps, her startled shriek making my cock jerk up as precum pearls on my tip. “Did I frighten you, Daphne? Will your limbs stretch out onto my cross as you merge with it, becoming a delicate laurel?” Walking close to her, I nuzzle her ear, drinking in her soft sighs and shivers. “Or will you be my good girl and take my whip?”

“Please,” she whimpers. “I am yours. Do with me as you will. I can withstand it.”

“Good girl,” I groan, sliding my hand down the front of my breeches to massage my thick shaft. “I want you to listen to my words and listen closely.” Wrapping my whip over my shoulders, I walk back over to the back of the cross so she can see me.

Her eyes are already glassy with that soft haze, making me nearly groan. “I’m going to hurt you, my little wife. But I am not angry with you. Not anymore. Your pain brings me great joy.” Stepping back, I undo the flap and allow my erection to spring free. “This is what your tears do to me. God help me, my precious little Emma. My cock weeps at your discomfort.”

I step back behind her, reaching between her thighs to cup her pussy. Already she drips for me, her body soaking as my words penetrate her brain.

“More than that,” I murmur in her ear as I slide two thick fingers into her tight channel. “I want you to understand I hold no contempt toward you. However, I see and feel the guilt wafting off of you, and that I cannot abide. I will discipline you, since that is what you think you need to find absolution, but you will let go of this needless emotion.”

Backing up, I examine her body before cracking my whip again, first over one shoulder, then the other. She jumps but remains silent. The first sting strikes her right arse cheek.

The yelp and consequent squirm make me groan as precum drips down the thick ridge of my cock. I strike the other cheek, watching as the red stripe mars her perfect flesh. Though she cries out, she’s nowhere near where I need her to be. Not yet. But she will be.

Showing no mercy, I pepper her over and over with zings and thwacks, turning her pale skin into a warm red. Sobs wrack her body as she jerks away from my punishing hand, but she never once begs me to stop. She takes it like the good girl she is, allowing the pain to purge the guilt and anguish from her body.

Arousal trickles down her thigh, puddling on the floor. As much as this pains her, she craves it. Just as much as I crave delivering it. Once her body begins to heave, the sobs coming in earnest, I set the whip down and tend to my wife.

She’s pliant in my arms as I take her down from the cross. Curling into me, she seeks out my comfort. With a soft smile, I purr for her, reveling in how she goes limp against me. Taking her to the bed, I turn her face down so I can tend to her back.

As I rub the salve over her, I tell her over and over how perfect she is for me, giving her space to grieve and purge everything out of her system. Minutes go by and the only sounds in the room are her cries and my purr. Eventually, however, the sobs slow into small, hiccupping coughs as she finally comes back to reality.

Turning her over, I capture her lips with mine, connecting us as I spread her legs. With a soft moan, she opens for me, her thighs slick with arousal. Her eyes are dark with need as our gazes lock.

“I love you, my precious wife,” I whisper, not wishing to break the spell.

Hopefully this time, she believes me, for I feel it with all my heart. Notching my tip in her entrance, I ease myself in, forcing myself to go slowly so she can feel every fucking inch of my erection as I invade her, impaling her in one long, agonizing stroke. Her needy whimper goes straight to my balls, making my cock jerk inside her.

I know how she wants it. She wants me hard and fast, pounding into her with a wild abandon. And who am I to deny my wife’s wishes and needs? Pulling out, I slam into her, drinking in her fevered cries. Again and again, I surge deep inside her.

Sliding my hands under her arse, I grip the inflamed skin, reigniting the pain from my whip. She howls up to the sky as her pussy flutters around me. Again, I capture her lips, swallowing her delirious moans into me.

This time, she’s fully aware of what we’re doing. She’s on this journey with me, panting and moaning as I fuck her with every bit of me. Digging my nails into her skin, I groan as she tightens around my cock.

My jaw aches as the need to claim what’s mine pounds into my brain. Since she’s not in heat, it will be far more painful for her, but she will be mine. Once the bond is sealed between us, nothing and no one can ever take her away from me.

As if she senses my thoughts, she turns her head to the side, offering me her shoulder. I lap at her skin, tasting the salt of her sweat. My knot begins to swell as I tease her with my teeth.

Bringing my hand between us, I stroke her clit, desperate for her to come as I do. Her inner walls flutter around me as she bucks up, her hips jerking as her release begins to take hold. As she cries out, I slam into her one last time as my knot swells, locking us in place.

Her tight channel constricts around me, making my vision waver for just a moment. Bending low, I bite down on her shoulder, not stopping until I feel the skin give way and blood fill my mouth. Her screams buzz in my ear even as her pussy gushes with slick.

Rocking my hips, I continue to pleasure her with my knot as the strands of our bond take hold. At first, it’s delicate, like spiderwebs covered in dew. The longer I hold on, the stronger it becomes until I’m sure it’s firmly in place. With great care, I detach my teeth and lap at her wound.