Miss Simpkins' School: Lydia Read Online Free Page B

become betrothed and wed, but he’d managed to infiltrate the idea to them without either of them realizing. George had wanted Lydia from the first time she’d emerged from the schoolroom, not a gangly schoolgirl who hung unto his every word, but as a young lady and made her debut. Caution made him wait until she was older, more assured, and able to meet him as near an equal as possible. Now was that time.
    It seemed to take an age as she crossed the floor, her footsteps muffled by the carpet, and stood silently in front of him. Then with the innate elegance she possessed she knelt and bent her head. “Like this, My Lord?” He heard her intonation and was more than pleased. George was determined he would have to find the appropriate fond name for her for when they played.
    “Perfect, sweetness.”
    She snorted.
    He chuckled. “Not appropriate? You see, when we’re together like this I need a name, a sobriquet to call you. In this mode I expect instant obedience, an extra connection. I’ll tell you now I have worked toward this moment for many a month. Why do you think our parents were so insistent? They don’t know they were manipulated, but if we are to be together there will be no secrets between us. You agree?” He held his breath.
    “Of course I do. Because I had heard things about you, and it made me all the more determined that I could and would be all you want or need. So a cognomen.” She tilted her head to one side. “Honey.”
    “Why?” It suited her. In the candlelight her hair was the color the honey made from bees that feasted on the moorland bushes near one of his estates.
    “Because you and I know I can be sweet but not sickly?”
    He bowed. “Then Honey it is. When I call you that I’m preparing to what I will call play. But it’s not play as a child would indulge in. My play is hot, hard, and will push you to places you’ve never even dreamed of. Not yet though.” He was gratified by the disappointment that suffused her face. “Honey,” he used the term deliberately. “I assume you have yet to see a man’s unclothed body, let alone experience love making in any form?”
    “Sadly yes, but I’m more than ready to be shown, My Lord.” Again the emphasis on his title. It seemed it was her way of conferring his authority over her. “I have heard to be fucked by an expert is everything a woman will want. I myself don’t agree. I think I need other things as well.” She blushed and put her hands to her cheeks. “I wish to be spanked and feel the sweet sting it brings.”
    His heart jumped and his skin tingled. Had she really said that? “Say it again. No don’t look up. Untie your hair, and then put your hands in your lap.”
    He waited while she did as he asked and then she said distinctly, “I have heard it pleases you to spank your ladies. The though of this gives me strange feelings, good feelings, and I wish to experience it please.”
    “Then follow me. On your knees. Lift your skirt so it doesn’t hinder you.”
    Was he pushing too hard too soon? She was untried, a virgin who knew naught in practice.
    George walked to a slim door set in the paneling beside the fireplace and opened it. Very few people knew of this adjoining room’s existence. Inside was a dominant’s paradise. Conceived by certain gentlemen of a similar persuasion to him, and with their ladies input, it was designed as Molly put it, “As the perfect classroom.”
    Behind him he heard a gasp, a groan, and then an epithet, which he thought was “bloody skirts.” He had to agree.
    Lydia made her way toward him on hands and knees. She’d kilted the material around her waist, and to his delight her lower limbs flashed smooth and silky in the light. As she reached him she let her head fall forward and her hair streamed down to touch the floor.
    “Ah, Honey, this is so perfect. Now let me help you up.” He put his hands under her arms and helped her to her feet. “No, don’t drop your skirts, let me feast