Dealing With Discipline (15 page)

Perhaps that would be the true proof
of his affections... if they waned after she provided him with an
heir. 

But could she wait that long?
 Falling more in love with him every day, wondering, yearning.
 Constantly testing, because she knew deep down that she
wouldn't be able to stop.  She knew that if she asked he would
tell her what she wanted to hear, but how could she trust such a
declaration? Only a freely given one was truly
dependable. 

The creak of the door behind her made
her jump and she covered her breasts and mound with her hands, eyes
flashing up to see her husband entering their bedchamber. It wasn’t
that he’d never seen her naked before of course, but she felt as
though she’d been caught doing something illicit. Something
private.  He took two steps in and stopped, his gaze fixing
upon her naked body.  Color rose in her cheeks as she stared
at him in the mirror, too frozen to spin around and face
him.

She could see his eyes caressing her
backside, her legs, her bottom, the curves of her hourglass, and
the long fall of hair that obscured her shoulders from his view.
 Then their eyes caught in the mirror and she could see him
studying her position, the way her hand couldn't entirely cover the
golden hairs of her mound, the flesh of her breasts which spilled
out around the press of her arm. 

"I was... I was just l-looking at...
at... um, myself," Eleanor stuttered, feeling dreadfully exposed at
being caught.  

Edwin grinned at her
wickedly, pulling off his jacket as he strode forward.  Unlike
some of the men of the
ton
 he didn't often wear any
garments so tightly fitted that a valet was actually necessary to
help adorn and remove them. Not only was Nell’s abashed face
absolutely delightful, but there was a wicked excitement in
catching his wife looking at her naked body.  Quickly he
palmed the little glass bottle that he had brought upstairs with
him before dropping the garment to the floor.

Coming up behind Eleanor he met her
eyes in the mirror as he wrapped one arm around her body, pulling
her soft backside against the hard ridge of his groin.  Gently
he kissed the back of her head, smelling the flowery perfume she
wore in her hair. 

"I can understand, as I enjoy looking
at you as well," he said, wrapping his other arm around her
although his hand remained closed around the glass bottle.
 His free hand stroked her soft skin as he surrounded her
cream and gold body with his darker one.  "Especially when you
look like this."

Shivering, Eleanor watched in the
mirror, fascinated, as one of Edwin's arms banded around her waist
and the other explored her with gentle fingers.  She'd never
been able to watch from this angle before, see his hand as it
cupped her breast and pinched at the pink nipple.  Next to him
she looked so soft and pale, so small, as if his entire body was
encompassing her.  When his hand slid further down and pushed
hers aside so that he could push his fingers through the golden
curls at her mound and into the slick wetness below, she gasped and
averted her gaze as she blushed.  

Their eyes caught again, holding, as
he slid two fingers into her wet heat, rubbing over the excited bud
of her clitoris, and she moaned with the exquisite intimacy of it.
 The vulnerability.  The hot need in Edwin's eyes as he
watched her. 

With an exertion of his willpower that
almost felt like a physical wrench, Edwin pulled himself away.
 As much as he wanted to make love to his wife in front of the
mirror - and made a note to himself to make that possible sometime
- he had come up here with a plan.  Also a reward for her for
her recent good behavior.

"Go lie on the bed on your stomach,
sweetheart," Edwin murmured into her ear, giving her a gentle push
on her bottom to send her in the right direction.

Eleanor hesitated and then mentally
shrugged and headed for the bed.  Part of her had liked
watching herself and Edwin in the mirror, another part of her just
wanted to automatically dig in her feet about any order he gave no
matter how innocuous, and the last part - which won - was curious
about what he was going to do.  Their nights were lessons in
passion, in which she learned more about the male body than she'd
ever considered possible, all the while Edwin learned new ways to
pleasure her. 

Lying on her stomach on the bed,
Eleanor could hear the rustle of clothing as Edwin finished
undressing himself, tossing the clothing negligently on the floor.
 She rolled her eyes.  Before she'd become his wife she'd
always thought that Edwin must be a bit of a clothes horse, a
demanding aristocrat who was always up to date on the latest
fashions.  It couldn't be further from the truth; she was
quite sure that without Johnson, his fussy and demanding valet,
Edwin would go out of the house looking like he didn't care at all.
He relied entirely on Johnson for sartorial and fashionable matters
(other than colors which he was quite vehement about, having no
desire to be seen as a dandy), although now Johnson constantly
conferred with her as well because he wished to have the mistress'
opinion.  As far as she could tell, Edwin didn't have one and
he treated his garments with reckless indifference, causing Johnson
to constantly wring his hands even as he set matters to
right. 

She often wondered if Edwin would even
notice if Johnson dressed him as a dandy.

The bed dipped beside her and she
turned her head to see the gloriously naked body of her husband.
 Immediately her body hummed with anticipation and she turned
her head back around, lest he catch a glimpse of the yearning
emotion in her eyes.  In bed was the only place she truly felt
safe showing him how much she loved him, meeting passion with
passion, but only in the heat of the moment when he was as
intensely involved as her. 

Dripping some of the oil onto his
hands, Edwin rubbed them together, smiling at the slickness it
produced and then placed his oiled hands onto his wife's shoulders
and began to rub in the way that Wesley had showed him.
 Wesley had used one of his amours for the demonstration,
although of course he'd had her keep her clothing on while Edwin
was in the room and hadn't used the oils, but he'd gotten the
general idea. 

"Ohh..."  Eleanor's muscles
tensed under his hands and then relaxed as his fingers pressed into
her flesh.  She groaned as he began kneading her shoulders and
upper back, smoothing the oils over her skin so that his hands
slipped and slid easily without catching or pulling on her flesh.
 "What is that?"

"Part of our wedding gift from
Wesley," he said, marveling at how she softened beneath his hands.
 Very similar to the way she practically went boneless after a
particularly intense climax.  "He says these oils are used
often in the East for medicinal and pleasurable
purposes."

"Remind me to thank him," she
murmured, closing her eyes and relaxing into the delightful
sensations of Edwin's hands massaging her.  Little knots of
tension seemed to pop and release beneath his fingers, a feeling of
wonderful lassitude spreading through her limbs as he began to work
his way down her back. 

It would be so easy to fall asleep...
except that little curdle of excitement that occurred whenever
Edwin touched her. 

Dripping more oil onto Eleanor's back,
he admired the way her ivory skin gleamed in the candlelight.
 The oils slowly sank into her skin, necessitating him adding
more to his hands and her flesh, but it continued to show as a
glowing sheen.  He smiled as he listened to her heartfelt
groans and sighs of pleasure, his cock rising as it recognized the
sounds that he often heard from her in this bed, albeit for a very
different reason. 

Deciding to prolong their enjoyment,
Edwin worked his way down her legs and her arms until Eleanor
literally felt as limp as a boned fish.  She was lost in a
misty haze of relaxation and bliss, aware of Edwin's hands on her
and yet feeling almost completely disassociated from them.  It
felt wonderful.  The kind of care and pampering that he was
showing her made her feel as warm inside as she was outside; surely
a man wouldn't do something like this, take his time the way Edwin
was, unless it meant something?  As far as she could see there
was no return benefit for him.  Of course these weren't
concrete thoughts moving through her mind, more like fuzzy
concepts; she was too far gone in her blissed out stated to be able
to focus on anything.

By the time he finished rubbing oils
all over his wife's back and limbs, Edwin was in such a keen state
of arousal that he seriously considered just oiling his hand and
thrusting his cock through the slick surface to spill out all over
her... but then he wondered what it would be like to make love to
his wife when she was in such a submissively boneless state.
 It wasn't often that he could describe Eleanor as anything
like submissive.  Gripping her hips, he pulled her up so that
she was kneeling before him, her body folded over her knees.
 She made a faint noise of protest until she realized that he
wasn't expecting her to move or do anything but lay how he had just
placed her.

With her arms trailing before her, her
body curled up, she looked like a heathen at prayer.  Edwin
grinned.  He certainly planned on making her cry out to a
deity. 

Lining up his hard cock with her
entrance he pushed upwards and in.  Since the massage hadn't
been entirely erotic she was wet but not overly so, making him work
to fit his cock into her body.  They both moaned - Edwin with
relief as he sank into her and Eleanor with strange pleasure as she
stretched to accommodate him, her sense still feeling as though
they were scattered all about her.  He had to move himself
back and forth, thrusting a little deeper each time, to fully embed
himself inside of her, the wetness of her tunnel growing as he slid
his hands around to the unoiled front of her body and cupped her
breasts.

With his oil-slick hands it was a
completely different sensation as he pinched and rubbed at her
nipples, one that made her insides tighten around him as the
pleasure lanced through her.  Her nipples were hardened to
little points which he squeezed, but the oil made them pop out of
his fingers and then he'd reach for them again.  The constant
renewing and relieving of pressure on her aching buds had Eleanor
crying out, she would have writhed if she had more control over her
muscles, but relaxed state of her body made it almost impossible
for her to do more than raise her hips slightly to meet Edwin's
hard thrusts.

Feeling Eleanor so passive beneath him
was an unusual experience for Edwin, and while he definitely
preferred her active involvement, he had to admit that there was
something immensely stirring about her lying so still beneath him
as she moaned and shuddered.  It allowed him complete control
over her body, it was almost as good as if he'd tied her in place
because she didn't seem to be able to move very much, allowing him
to ravish her as he desired.  

Sliding one hand down between her
legs, he managed to wedge it into her tight crevice and rub her
little pearl of pleasure between two slick fingers.  Eleanor
cried out as her orgasm caught her almost by surprise, boiling
outwards from Edwin's clever fingers as his cock dragged over a
spot deep inside of her that sent her reeling.  She tightened
around him as his thrusts came hard and fast, pummeling her pliable
body until she felt him burst within her.  The convulsing
muscles of her tunnel rippled, milking him dry of his seed as he
groaned and rocked, squeezing her breast so tightly that the
slippery mound popped out of his hand. 

For the first time, Eleanor lay
completely passively as Edwin cleaned them both up, rubbing her
down to remove the excess oil from her body as she smiled sleepily
up at him.  

Crawling into bed beside her, Edwin
laid his lips against hers and kissed her deeply, enjoying the
soft, loving attention he was receiving from her.  He didn't
know whether his volatile wife would keep up this sweetly obeisant
demeanor tomorrow, but he intended to enjoy it while it
lasted.

******

Watching his wife laugh as she
galloped across the fields, putting the feisty chestnut mare that
he'd presented her with as a wedding present through her paces,
Hugh thought that he'd never been so happy.  Irene in the
county was nothing like Irene in London.  Well, that wasn't
quite true.  She was still sweet and demure, polite, pleasing,
but over the past few days he'd begun to catch glimpses of a freer
Irene.  One whose laugh chimed like bells, whose eyes sparkled
with mischief, whose sly wit had surprised him more than once.
 

Her rampant curiosity was nothing like
what he'd expected.

She wanted to explore everything, look
at everything on the grounds of Stonehaven.  There wasn't a
room in the house that she hadn't been in and thoroughly examined
with him, asking questions about some of the pieces and artwork and
the people in the portraits.  They'd even explored the wine
cellar, giggling like children who were doing something naughty.
 Irene's poking through a dusty, dark corner of the cellar had
her coming up with a very old bottle of wine that they'd decided to
take out and try.

Hugh had spat it out immediately and
then laughed so hard he hadn't been able to stand at Irene's nearly
cross-eyed expression as she'd forced herself to swallow it.
 He'd laughed even harder when she'd given up the attempt and
run around the corner of the house to try and keep him from seeing
her spit it out.  Of course he'd followed her.