Author: Annabel Josephmore from this user
Take a rousing romp through 1790s England with this first of four Properly Spanked novels…
The Lady Aurelia has been promised in marriage to the Marquess of Townsend since she was four and he was fourteen. Unfortunately, she grew up into a pillar of propriety while her betrothed grew up into a renowned rake. Of course, no one would expect such an unsuitable match to go forward…which is why they find themselves at a loss when circumstances force them to the altar and into each other’s arms.
Hunter, the beleaguered marquess, believes he’ll survive the uneven match by continuing to frequent his well-trained coterie of whores and courtesans, but Aurelia’s powerful father has other ideas. When he blocks Hunter’s access to the only women shameless enough to cater to his decadent needs, the marquess informs his new wife that something will have to be done.
That “something” will be the immediate commencement of her erotic training…whether she wants it or not.
This 70K word novel contains acts of punishment and discipline, anal play, and other sensual practices.
A knock interrupted her maid’s admonishments. Clement beckoned her wildly and Aurelia skittered across the floor. She’d just managed to climb into the monstrosity of a bed when the door opened. She drew in a deep breath as Lord Townsend entered.
Her husband looked even taller and more threatening in the dim light of the flickering candles. He’d taken off his fine, bright wedding garments and put on a deep bronze dressing gown much more suited to his dark eyes and hair. His gaze moved over her, revealing nothing of his feelings. She clutched the sheets closer to her chest.
His eyes moved to Clement, standing beside her, flushed to her roots. “Leave us,” he said.
Clement gave one last motherly twitch to the sheets, dropped a curtsy, and exited as quickly as her old, sturdy bones would allow.
Even after her lady’s maid left, Lord Townsend remained still, studying her in a very unnerving way. Then he moved toward the bed, his lips turning up in a half smile. “How beautiful you look,” he said. “All golden and shiny, like a princess in a fairy tale. Let me see you.”
His words were soft, but the sentiment behind them felt hard and demeaning. She clutched the sheets closer. He put his hands over hers and peeled her fingers away.
“Let me see you,” he said again, with a bit more steel. He whisked down the sheets, kicking up a breeze of clean linen scent.
Aurelia tensed, her entire body exposed to his regard. Her filmy night rail, made for a bride, left nothing to the imagination. His eyes roved over the silken thing, and she thought to herself, he had this made for me. He chose this design. Her mother would not have ordered such a transparent, indecent garment. She looked down, horrified to see the pink tips of her nipples through the material. She lifted her hands to cover her breasts.
He sat beside her on the bed and pushed them back down again. “Don’t hide from me, Aurelia. I would see the woman I’ve married.”
He kept his hands on hers so she had no choice but to bear his scrutiny. He stared down at the outline of her too-ample breasts, then back at her face. “Are you troubled?”
“I’m a b-bit nervous,” she stammered out.
“It’s all right to be nervous.” His hands tightened on hers as she tried to pull them away.
“But...do...do we really need to? Tonight?”
His soft smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, we really need to. The Lockridge and Lansing dynasties are at stake.”
“I mean, can we not delay just a few days, until we know one another better?”
His smile deepened. “Do you think it will change anything between us? I’m sorry, Aurelia, but I intend to have you tonight, our wedding night, as custom dictates. Resign yourself to your fate.”
He was practically laughing at her. She tried to summon outrage but found herself too nervous to manage it. His nearness terrified her. She stared at his chest, male and hard beneath his robe. She gawked at defined muscle and dark scattered hair, things she’d never known before in her sheltered existence. He leaned closer, so rough stubble whispered across her cheek.
“It’s only that you’re practically a stranger to me,” she whispered.
He dipped his head lower, released her hands and parted the gathered neckline of her shift. His lips brushed against her neck, the curve of her shoulder. “I won’t seem strange to you for long.” She shivered as he kissed lower. How soft he felt, and yet how dangerous... He nuzzled against the heaving rise of her bosom, just where the material met skin. “I knew you would look this way,” he mused, almost to himself. “I knew you would be lush like this, and soft and sweet. What a beautiful body you have, Lady Townsend.”
It was the second time he’d called her Lady Townsend, as if reminding her she had his name now. That she was his, by societal custom and law. His voice sounded hoarse and low as he murmured more love talk, compliments and endearments. Some response shuddered to life within her, some scary, elemental sort of pulse. His tongue darted out and touched the tip of her nipple through the fine fabric of her shift. She shied back but his arm came around her and held her, and then he sucked at her nipple, hot, warm pressure right through the fabric.
“My lord,” she cried. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer, only turned his head to lick her other nipple. He sucked it through the material, hard, strong pulls, shocking her. Her face burned. Her body burned too.
“No, please.” She shoved at him, trying to twist away.
He caught her hands and she found herself pushed back upon the pillows. “No, Aurelia? You’re my wife now. There are certain duties you’ll be obliged to perform.”
“But I don’t want this.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. However, my will is law in this house, in this marriage, and in this bed.” His face was so close to hers, their noses practically touched. “I won’t be a beast. I won’t demand unnatural acts. I won’t demean or degrade you, but I will require that you make your delectable body available to me. And it is delectable.”
His robe had parted wider when he came over her. She lay trapped under his heavy, muscled body, her heart pounding.
“Do you know why it’s delectable?” he asked.
She shook her head, eyes fixed on his chest. He loosened her shift, drawing the neckline down until her breasts were exposed, framed by the material. The gathered neckline caused them to be lifted and drawn forward, as if offered on display. He ran fingertips over the puckered, sensitive peaks of her nipples, setting them tingling in the most singular way. His slow caresses made the pulse quicken between her legs. A hot wave spread up into her belly. “These breasts are made to be fondled,” he said, squeezing them. “They’re the perfect size and shape.”
“Please, don’t,” she whimpered.
He left her breasts and sat back, and pushed the shift downward until it tore with a harsh sound. “Oh,” she cried as he ripped it nearly to the hem. The elegant thing had been new, and undoubtedly high in cost.
His hands traced down her naked belly to the curve of her hips. “You’re magnificent,” he said in that same hoarse voice. “Your hips, your bottom. This body is mine now, all of it. Do you understand?”
She shook her head as forcefully as she dared while pinned by his intense regard. “It’s not yours. It’s mine.”
When his fingers grasped her derrière, she shot up and tried to evade him again. He caught her over his arm with a soft chuckle. “If you knew how much I wanted you, you wouldn’t bother trying to get away.”
Training Lady Townsend is the first book in a series of four spanking erotic romances set in 1790s England. I pride myself on quality plots, lyrical writing style, and historical accuracy. I love Amazon reviews!