Charlotte's Control, page 27
She combed her fingers through his hair again.
“This is the second happiest day of my life. Thank you.” He turned his head and kissed her belly.
Her hand in his hair stopped moving. “The second happiest?”
“Tomorrow will be the happiest. I have told you I need you more than heirs, more than air.”
She began crying then.
“No tears, please, Mistress? Even if, as I hope, they are happy ones?”
“Belle says ’tis the pregnancy that makes me more emotional. And before you ask, she is the one who discerned the condition. I thought I had a simple stomach ailment.”
He laughed as he tugged her down onto his lap on the floor, surrounding her as though protecting her. When she’d calmed a little, he used one finger to tilt her chin up. “How do you feel about it?”
“Oh, William, I am beyond excited. Like you, ’twas not something I expected or needed, but as soon as the physician confirmed it, I realized it was something I wanted with every fiber of my being. I cannot decide if a miniature puppy or a daughter to help me keep you in line would be best to start.”
He gulped. He hadn’t thought of that. “Oh, no. A son, please, a son. I am not sure I could serve two Mistresses at once. That sounds terrifying.”
She giggled more. “For my part, ’tis vastly entertaining to picture.”
Smiling despite his trepidation, he pinched her gently then stood with her still in his arms. Laying her on her bed as though she was the most fragile china, he knelt and asked, “Mistress, how may I serve you and our baby-to-be?”
Epilogue
They’d decided to wait to tell his mother and sister about Charlotte’s condition. William desired a few more weeks of freedom from another layer of his family’s emotions centered on him and Charlotte could understand that.
A week later, she was very glad they’d remained at her London townhome in lieu of a wedding trip, as she did not want witnesses to the dispute that was brewing between the newlyweds.
William had been treating her like the most fragile of flowers. She could not stand up without him leaping toward her to ask what she needed then fetching it for her. She had to sneak downstairs for fear he’d offer to carry her. In bed, he’d insisted on her lying back and accepting pleasure without effort on her part, so as not to disturb the baby. They were still enjoying all the intimacies of marriage, but he held himself back during the act of sex. Up on his hands, he’d enter her slowly and then make shallow thrusts, often kneeling up to take her over with his finger on her pleasure button as he moved, then fisting his cock to empty it on her belly.
At first, she’d enjoyed the royal treatment. Then she tried to be patient with him. Now, she was done. She would strangle him with his cravat before the baby arrived if he tried to tether her movements for another five or six months.
In addition, she craved reclaiming control. She’d been surprised and aroused by his occasional dominant behavior in the past, particularly when she had not felt well. It was another layer of service but with an added core of strength, and it was not something she’d had in her first marriage.
However, she was an independent woman who had led her whole world, in and out of the bedroom, before she’d met him. His control over her movements, her body, was at an end, as was his authority in the bedroom, at least for the foreseeable future. Her world was out of balance, and her puppy was out of order.
Before she knew she was pregnant, she’d bought a leather flogger from Beth and Robert Orford as a wedding gift for William. She was eager to see if he’d enjoy it, as they had not played with the edge of pleasure and pain much. Apparently, she would need to cuff him for that, though, or he might try to object to her wielding the flagellator. She needed to set the tone for the remainder of her pregnancy, and hopefully for future ones as well.
After supper, she poured herself a sherry and him a whiskey and took them upstairs. Puppy behavior in full force, he followed at her heels.
Placing the drinks on her dressing table, she glanced over her shoulder. “Unlace me, puppy.”
“Mistress, would you like to sit down?”
“Not tonight.”
“But—”
“I think tonight there will be no talking—”
“But—”
“—on threat of punishment.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He bowed his head and made fast work of her dress and stays.
Her core heated, trailing through her to bead her nipples and plump her nether lips. This, this was how they’d fallen in love and what she needed now.
She turned toward him, brushing her hip against him. Excellent, his trousers were already tightening over a growing bulge. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, he’d missed this too. Now she needed to ensure he understood where concern ended and irrational behavior began, and that she would not tolerate the latter.
“Puppy, sit on the edge of the bed, please.”
He opened his mouth, probably to invite her to sit with him.
She arched a brow.
He subsided, perching on the bed.
Handing him his drink, she sipped hers. “You always ask me to tell you what I need.”
He nodded, his whisky forgotten, clasped in his hands between his spread knees, his full attention on her.
“I need more freedom than I’ve had this past sennight. Not from the marriage”—she added when he looked alarmed—“but from you shadowing me. I appreciate your willingness to wait on me hand and foot, but you must realize that when we return to our daily lives, you will not have time.”
He was frowning.
She continued, “We have servants if I am too tired to fetch something, but I am perfectly healthy and for now at least, can go about my life. The physician even approved me riding for the near future if I choose, as long as I am not racing or hunting. I understand you are concerned, but women have babies all the time and I will be careful. I want this child as much or more than you do, William. I promise I will take care of myself and the child. I need you to trust me to do that, to give me back control.”
William slid to his knees. “Mistress?”
“Yes, William? I am sorry, I should not have decreed silence, this should be a discussion.” Her fingers started their habitual combing through his hair.
“Please, Mistress. I worry about everything. Your health, the baby, being a father, everything I’ll need to teach him or protect her from.”
Her brows raised and she tightened her fingers’ grip to tug his hair. “I dislike that you think of teaching a son and protecting a daughter, but we can address that another time—”
“No, Mistress. I mean, yes, I understand. And truly, I have visions of teaching her Latin or whatever else she wants. But that doesn’t worry me. Besides”—one side of his mouth tipped up—“my visions included you teaching our son or daughter, too. I promise they were not as antiquated as they sounded. I am excited for our future together. ’Tis just that some aspects worry me more than others. For the time being, the only thing I can manage is your health. Please, don’t take that away from me.” His voice was strangled on his last words.
“Well, now I am sorry I waited so long to have this discussion. And you will be sorry you waited as well. You know this is punishable behavior.” Her fingers resumed combing. She should have realized he would have begun to list the duties as earl that would come with fatherhood, on top of the normal nerves about impending parenthood.
“Yes, Mistress. But please, first, I need your reassurance.”
She tilted her head. “William, think about what you have told me about the dynamic of our relationship.”
He tilted his head.
“One of the aspects you enjoy most is letting go of your decisions and responsibilities by deferring to me. You can do the same with your worries. Not because I am older or wiser. Because this is how we are most comfortable. Trust me to give you some release from your concerns and to take good care of myself and our child. Please?”
He considered her statement. “I shall try. I ask for your patience, and I cannot promise not to fetch things for you or the like.”
“Fair enough. I think if we regain balance in the bedroom, some of our anxiety outside it may be reduced.”
He nodded. “Mistress, I beg your forgiveness. How may I serve you?”
With that signal that he had acquiesced and was ready to play, Charlotte nodded, pulling her hand from his hair. “You are forgiven, but I think tomorrow you shall wear the ribbon.”
He moaned. Tying his cock with a ribbon had become a favorite torture of hers, to keep him thinking of her all day. He did anyway, of course, but that tether kept him on edge contemplating what she’d do with him that night. His persistent cockstand distracted him from work, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
She added, “Now, I have something I bought for us that I’d like to try. Please keep an open mind.”
He looked up.
“First, remove your clothes, puppy. I want to see this body that is mine forever.” As he flung clothes aside, she added, “I shall never tire of this view.”
She shrugged her loosened dress off, then stepped out of her stays, leaving her in a chemise and petticoats. Untying the petticoat tapes, she withdrew cuffs and the flogger from a drawer.
“Have you seen one of these?”
He stared at it, then nodded.
“Really? Where?”
“Folly had a copy of the catalogue from the Orfords, as he supplies the fasteners and such.”
“Ah,” she murmured. “We should view it together one of these days.”
“I was interested in a few things in the catalogue but did not dare buy them for you.” He wagged his eyebrows up and down and teased, “Now that I have you at my mercy for the rest of our lives, I shall have to reconsider.”
“Hmm. That sounds promising. Other than the fact that I have you at my mercy. Now, watch,” she said. She wielded the flogger against the mattress in a figure eight pattern, the smacks getting faster and firmer after every few rounds.
“Does it hurt?” William’s voice was hoarse. His cock bobbed and he grabbed it, squeezing.
That was a hopeful sign. Not everyone would be willing to even explore impact play. She’d had to practice when she first bought it as she had never used one. This would be new for both of them, a concept that added to her excitement.
“It does not. However, if I slapped it harder and faster, it might. This one has strands wide enough and short enough that it should not cause real pain or even leave lasting marks. Others are cut differently. ’Tis also important to aim for well-padded areas, either with muscle or otherwise.” She twisted a hip to portray her bottom as an example.
He chuckled.
“Here. You try it on your leg. Move your wrist with it and work up.”
He took it, testing the motion in the air first, and then against his other hand. When he caught his wrist, he winced.
“Be careful of your wrist and start with a slower motion, less of a snap.”
His glance at her was questioning.
“I spent a lot of time practicing once I bought this, as I’ve not tried it before either.”
His expression echoed her twinge of excitement at exploring a new intimacy together, as he looked between the instrument and her with a broader smile.
“We will need to talk through it all, especially this first time, as I dislike the idea of either receiving or giving pain. For me, the hope is that we find that edge and ride it together.”
He moaned and grabbed his cock again as it nodded in agreement. “I admit I am unsure whether I’d prefer actual pain to your punishments of prolonging pleasure, Mistress.”
“Hmm. Your cock says otherwise, my puppy. Now let me see how hard you like it.” She gestured to the flogger, liquid pooling between her legs as his muscles rippled, anticipation of perusing the catalogue together sending a shiver of excitement through her.
They had so many intimacies to explore, topics to discuss, and books to read. And hopefully this time around, a lifetime to enjoy them together.
* * *
Want to read more Maggie Sims?
Get Roslynn’s Rebellion, the prequel to the School of Enlightenment Series, when you sign up for Maggie’s newsletter here:
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Other books in the School of Enlightenment Series include:
Sophia’s Schooling
An innocent country girl...a jaded earl...an education in pleasure.
Penelope’s Passion
Schooled in the art of pleasure, her real passion is baking. Required to marry, the earl’s heir finds his new courtesan more to his taste.
Althea’s Awakening
A widow with no knowledge of carnal desire, a rake bored with even the most hedonistic pleasures, and a game of truth or dare…
Beth’s Behavior
An outrageous free spirit meets her match in an introvert with a secret leather business.
Helen’s House
Even at an all-girls school in Regency England, workplace romances can prove challenging.
Ann’s Angel
(Christmas short story)
Two courtesans looking to get out of the game…
Acknowledgments & References
This book was an education. Even if I had taken courses in the Classics, it would have been a few decades ago. For this, I relied on fellow authors and friends Jenna Bigelow and Emily Anderson, who directed me to all sorts of gems to incorporate here.
Critique partners Jena Doyle, Jennifer Britt, Helen J. Conway, and Sonia Bellhouse helped a ton in streamlining this story’s timeline, as did my editor, Misha Robinson of Verity Ink Editorial.
Always, my real-life romance hero, my husband, gets the biggest thanks of all.
Translations of Catullus’s poems and related vocabulary interpretations are taken from:
SPQR Study Guides: Gaius Valerius Catullus Carmina, Latin & English & Vocabulary developed by Paul Hudson, which in turn had its own bibliography.
This was removed from Amazon before I could purchase it and has no copyright, so has a semi-permanent spot in my Kindle Unlimited library.
About the Author
Maggie Sims began her love affair with romance before her teen years, drawn to the Regency by her mum’s British influence. In her twenties, she did her best to live the Carrie Bradshaw life in New York City, albeit with less expensive shoes and more books.
Despite reading hundreds of romance novels in her life, she was still blown away when she met the love of her life, an ex-Marine cinnamon roll with creative woodworking and culinary skills.
Having retired from corporate life, they live in Central Texas and are parents to a varying number of dogs and cats. When not writing, Maggie is a wine enthusiast, a travel junkie, and a romance reading fiend. She also sporadically crochets for KnotsofLove.org and does just enough exercise for that second glass of wine at night.
To find out more about Maggie’s latest reads, favorite wines, and travel destinations, sign up for her newsletter.
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Contact Maggie at
www.MaggieSims.com
Maggie Sims, Charlotte's Control
