“You owe me a punishment,” his voice pitched dark and low.
“A…punishment?” she squeaked.
“Yes, you were a very naughty girl. You need to be punished. By me.” He smiled.
Winnie occupied herself by straightening a display of ribbons. “Come here, Winnie.”
She thought about pretending not to hear him. “I wouldn’t,” he stated flatly.
Winnie started. It was like he read her mind. With slow determined steps, she approached him but stopped a few feet away. “Closer,” Archer ordered as he uncrossed his legs and opened his knees wide.
Winnie took another step so the hem of her flimsy dress brushed the tops of his polished boots.
Archer steepled his fingers in front of his chest. “Closer.”
“There’s no room,” Winnie said hesitantly, blushing as she glimpsed the unmistakable ridge outlined along his thigh. The light buff trousers concealing nothing.
Ignoring her objection, Archer merely raised an eyebrow as his gaze remained fixed on her face. Chewing her bottom lip in indecision, Winnie finally slid her slippered right foot along the carpeted floor before slowly joining it with her left. She was now standing between his outstretched legs.
Winnie closed her arms tight about her as if she could make her body smaller, lowering her head, refusing to meet his intense gaze. Amused, Archer pressed his legs together till his inner thighs brushed against her skirts. Winnie’s mouth fell open in shock. Her dress was so thin, she could feel the heat from his skin through her dress and petticoats. She tried to back away but his legs tightened, trapping her.
“Please, my lord. Madame could return at any moment,” she pleaded.
“Then you had better do as I say without prevarication,” he warned darkly. “Did you touch that sweet, little cunny of yours dreaming of me forcing my cock on you?”
Winnie felt lightheaded with shame and guilt. Should she even try to deny it? It seemed pointless since this enigmatic man seemed to have the power to read her innermost, wicked thoughts!
Winnie covered her face in mortification. “Please don’t, my lord,” she muttered.
Archer rubbed his thigh against her own. Winnie could feel the press of his arousal. “Answer me, Winnie.”
All she could muster was a small shake of her head…yes.
Archer smiled. She was the perfect combination of seductive innocence. Her existence in the East End ensured she was not completely sheltered as to the ways between a man and a woman. Yet, her blushes confirmed she was undoubtedly still untouched.
“Unbutton your dress.”
All Winnie could do was stare at him over the tips of her fingers.
“Unbutton. Your. Dress.”
Her mind spun. He couldn’t possibly mean to…to…not…here…in the salon…during the day…with her…um…ah…
“My dear, there will be time for that later, after your punishment. For now, I want you to unbutton the front of your dress.”
Once again, he knew her thoughts before she had even fully formed them. Not feeling as if she had a choice and trusting in the safety of the daylight and open setting, Winnie forced her numb fingers to unhook the tiny buttons that ran down the front of her dress. Slowly the threadbare, white chemise and top of her whalebone corset were revealed as the flaps of her dress fell open.
She was so tiny, her beautiful breasts were at his eye level. Archer leaned forward. Placing his index finger between her generous cleavage, he pressed on the top of the corset till it shifted down a few inches, just enough for her breasts to peek out over the top. He could see the cute, pink nipples through the practically sheer chemise.
Tearing his gaze from the stunning vision before him, Archer glanced up to see Winnie’s eyes tightly close, her mouth slightly open, her cheeks flushed, her breaths coming in short gasps. He smiled. He breathed deeply, taking in the warm, fresh scent of her skin. No perfume. Just the clean scent of lemon verbena soap and her. Knowing his time was short. Knowing if he gave into the impulse to taste her flesh he would not be able to stop there, Archer decided to test Winnie’s pleasure impulses.
He gently flicked her right nipple, watching as it became even more erect. She started but kept her eyes closed. Archer then lightly rolled both nipples between his index finger and thumb. Winnie shifted on her feet, a soft moan escaping her open lips. Instinctively, her body leaned in closer to his.
Without warning, he clamped down hard on her nipples. Pinching and twisting the delicate bunch of nerves. Archer tightened his thighs around Winnie as she bucked, trying to escape the pain. Locking her against him. Pressing her harder against his erection. “Keep quiet, my dove. You don’t want Madame to hear and come running,” he whispered harshly as he kept up the pressure on her nipples, oblivious to her distress.
Winnie bit down on her lower lip till she tasted blood. Quelling her own cries.
The moment he released her tortured flesh, there was this euphoric rush. As if the pain turned the absence of pain into pleasure. Her whole body felt warm and sensitive, especially the secret place between her legs. Without thought, she collapsed onto his lap. Archer kissed her forehead, as he gingerly re-buttoned her dress.
“Was that my punishment, my lord?” she asked, still in a daze.
Her gray eyes still dark and stormy with confused desire. “No, my dear. That was just a test. Your punishment is still to come.”
“Papa’s Little Pain Princess” on Amazon