Page 61 of The Duke’s Unwilling Bride

CHAPTER 29

Joseph

I watch her writhing there, my balls so drawn up it hurts to move. Precum wells at my tip, and all I can think of is having her lick it away. Shaking my head, I pull my thoughts back, concentrating on punishing her instead of just pleasuring myself.

But I’m lost, unable to see past the haze of lust that surrounds us both. In truth, I thought she’d break by now, but she’s taking it in stride, showing me more strength than I could have imagined. Now, I’m not as worried about breaking her.

In fact, the more I give her, the more her body burns for me. Her lower lips are puffy and swollen, her body primed for my cock. And it’s not just the fact she’s so close to heat. It’s that her body craves my mastery.

The only wrinkle in all of this, the only thing that gives me pause, is how earnestly she defended herself. The fact that she even told me to talk to Middlehey, to have him tell me the story. There was no guile in her eyes, no hint of lying.

Not even her scent changed. She spoke as if she truly believed the debt belonged to her father and not to her. But from what I knew of the man, he was circumspect, careful in all he did. The only thing that ever stood out was how much he loved his daughter.

In my mind, it’s easy to see her as a spoiled child, just as Asher describes, but now, I’m no longer sure. I detest how much I don’t know. I loathe being torn between a woman I want to love and want to have a fulfilling marriage with and the man who risked his life to save my own.

I don’t wish to think ill of Middlehey. Ever. Not after what we went through. But something isn’t adding up. And after the display at finding Teresa, he seemed less than trustworthy. I only thrust it out of my mind because of our past history.

But now, I am no longer able to do so. Something about the way she looked at me, the confusion filling her eyes. She has such expressive eyes, ones that seem to scream everything even as her lips stay silent. I just wish there was more evidence, but as of now, there’s nothing.

Once I’ve claimed her, once I’ve given her my bond, she will not be able to ever hide anything from me again. If she is indeed telling the truth, then it means a friendship I would stake my life upon is null and void. It eats at me, but in all honesty, which would I rather have?

Would I rather have a relationship with a wife that lies to me at every turn, and one with whom I can’t even have a solid marriage? Or would I rather give up a friend I thought was closer to me than any brother could have been? The very thought of either alternative twists my gut.

Dragging my gaze back up to the omega who already has a small hold on my heart, everything in me thumps painfully. I stare at her quivering form, taking in the soft grunts and moans of protest as the clamps dig into her sensitive flesh. How I wish to God she’s telling the truth.

But tonight, I’m willing to put all of that behind me. Tonight, I will focus on the one thing I have proof for—the sheer lunacy of tonight’s events. In some ways, perhaps her foolishness is a good thing. It shines a light on just how much I’m growing to care for her.

If she was just some plaything, I could have brushed her actions off as idle curiosity gone amuck. But that my heart squeezes in fear even now tells me she means far more to me than some chit who’s here just for my pleasure. In truth, I want to shake her, to rattle her enough that it sticks into her head that actions have consequences.

And, unfortunately, since she is both female and an omega, those consequences can be far more dire. Part of me loves her headstrong ways. I adore the fact she thinks she can stand up to me. But I need her to understand there’s a time and place. Waltzing into a whipping house is neither.

Once more, her soft cries flit into my brain, drawing my attention back to her writhing body. Bending low, I secure her ankles to the cross, pulling her taut. As she stands there with her legs spread out, I devour her pussy with my gaze, noting her clenching, pulsing with need.

“Do you think you’re wet enough for what I plan to do with you?” I growl against her ear, feeling her shiver against me. “No matter. I’ll check myself.”

Sliding my hand low, I cup her sex, groaning at the arousal gathering on my fingers. God but she’s simply sodden. Her alluring scent drifts up, setting my head to spinning. How am I going to see to her punishment if all I want to do is slide into her welcoming heat?

I pull back, needing to distance myself, but as I move, Teresa whimpers. Not out of pain. No. This is something entirely different. I hear the longing in her tone, and it mirrors my own.

Reaching around the front, I grab her breasts in my palms, massaging them, pulling on them. Despite the pain from the clamps, she arches into my touch, silently begging for more. I skim my fingers around the delicate skin surrounding her nipples, granting her sensation but not relief.

Though I didn’t think it was possible, she becomes even more aroused. Her body twists and turns in my arms, like an arc of lightning, just as powerful, just as burning. Gripping the clamps, I loosen them both at the same time, drawing a pained squeak from her delicious lips.

“Please,” she begs me, arching back from the leather cushion.

I grant her no quarter. Instead, I lean into her, forcing her tender nipples to press into the fabric. After a few moments of torture, I lean back and bring my fingers up, pinching and tugging, urging blood to rush back in. Distressed, erotic sounds, muffled by the fact that she’s no doubt biting on her lip to quell them, pour out into the space between us.

Finally, after she softly cries out, I pull my hands away and start the next part of her punishment. With swift movements, I undo her feet then her hands, scooping her into my arms so she can't run away. I then turn her over onto the spanking bench, my lips twisting into a feral smile as she lies there boneless, as if the fight is drained out of her.

So it seems a bit of pain is what it takes to calm down my little hellion. Grinning from ear to ear, I tie her wrists down, stretching her arms out in front and guiding her knees on either side so she’s still open for me. From there, I can see everything—her plump pussy, wet with arousal, and her cute little arsehole.

As much as I want to just delve in and deflower that forbidden hole, I know the humiliation will make a more lasting impression. Drifting my fingers over her lower lips, I tease her clit, drinking in her frantic moans as she rocks up against me, humping my thick digits with wild abandon.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” When she doesn’t answer, I pull back. “Aren’t you?”

Still, she remains silent. Stubborn as ever. Shaking my head, I grip her hips and yank backward, pulling her down the length of the spanking bench until her lower half nearly hangs in the air. From there, I fasten down her legs, attaching cuffs at both her ankles and thighs. She can squirm all she wants, but she’s never getting away.

“Answer me, Teresa,” I growl, tempering the sound so that it doesn’t hit her like a full command. I want her to obey me of her own volition. “This is your last chance.”