Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(103)

Please no. Louisa kept the plea to herself. She didn’t know why her fear of the dresser was growing so out of proportion. She felt like a child staring at a nighttime closet, knowing that the things she was imagining were far worse than the reality but unable to contain the fear that rose within her. And in this case, she wasn’t actually sure that her imagination was worse.

The Countess turned back, holding out her hand. Two black enamel balls lay within it. They looked remarkably like the set of balls that Geoffrey twisted between his fingers when he was bored. Each ball was smaller than a hen’s egg. There was nothing terrifying about them, and yet Louisa felt the burn in her belly grow. Nothing in this chamber was as it appeared—everything was worse.

“I am sure you’ve seen these before. But has he ever used them on you? It is most delicious. He once put them in me and then I danced all night. I must have orgasmed three times during a single waltz, and the whole time I thought of him and what would happen later. Your husband did not disappoint.”

Were the Countess’s words or the fear worse? It was hard to tell. Both tortured her far more than any of the physical pain that had yet occurred.

“I can’t wait to watch him f*ck you. There is something about watching a man slam into another woman that always gets me: the slap of flesh against flesh, the shine of fluids, and that smell—is there anything like the smell of sex, lots of sex? My nipples are tight just thinking about it.” The Countess moved behind Louisa once again. Rolled the cool balls over her buttocks. “You have such a pretty ass. You have no idea what an ordeal it has been for me not to place my mark upon it. This whole afternoon has been such an ordeal.”

An ordeal for the Countess? Louisa would have liked to shove the gag between her lips.

“You’re still so dry. I may have to do something about that. Jack does have an amazingly talented tongue. I know you would not think it to look at the lout, but … And I can just imagine Geoffrey’s face if he came in and found another man eating at your *.”

The Countess had been right: It could get worse.

“Hmmm, but perhaps that might move things ahead at rather too fast a pace.” The Countess continued to move the balls across Louisa’s lower back. “I don’t want Geoffrey to get that out of control, for all I am looking forward to the experience. I’ve never seen him pushed to the limit, and I do so want to.”

There was some relief that Jack was not going to be entering the room imminently. The Countess had been threatening his presence all evening, and in many ways—though Louisa wasn’t even sure he was still in that outer room—it was what she feared the most, even more than the dresser of horror.

She’d never known how bad it was not to know things: How long had she been here? What was in the dresser? Was Jack still here?

Shifting from foot to foot to the extent she was able, she tried to loosen the strain, which was rapidly turning her limbs into knots.

“Getting impatient, are you?” The Countess rolled the balls with some force. “You want me to place them inside you? They won’t feel like much while you’re still, but once the crop starts to fall they’ll dance like a flight of butterflies—and oh, the thanks you’ll give me.”

Louisa tried to murmur, “No.” But the gag allowed only a muffled peep.

The Countess rolled the balls down between Louisa’s buttocks, and despite the time they’d spent against her skin they still felt cold. “Perhaps I should oil them first? I’ve a nice oil that smells of cinnamon. It has the most delightful faint burn, really wakens things up. I’ve some with a stronger pepper bite, but perhaps we’ll save that; it’s so much more effective once the skin is broken. You’ll be quite amazed how red and puffy your nipples can become, like the ripest of berries—and just as tasty. I can suck them while Geoffrey watches. That will make us all happy.” She sounded like she really believed that.

Louisa closed her eyes again, wishing she could rest. Was Geoffrey even coming? The Countess was clearly not completely in touch with reality. Perhaps she only thought she’d sent for him. And perhaps he wasn’t coming anyway. Surely he would have been here by now if he cared. Blast, how long had she been here? It could not be as long as it seemed.

The strong smell of cinnamon filled the air, far more pungent than any perfume or baked good. Louisa could almost smell the burn.

“Oh, I think I must pour some of this on you. It will take care of so many issues and leave you perfectly pink and pretty and glistening.” The tap of the Countess’s shoes brought her back to behind Louisa.

She felt the first drops of liquid move down the crevasse of her buttocks and then lower. It didn’t feel so bad, not so different from a spongeful of bathwater.

“There, there, doesn’t that feel good.”

She felt the press of what she could only imagine were the balls against her nether lips. She tensed, wishing it were possible to press back against the Countess’s strong fingers, to shut them out.

“Starting without me?” Geoffrey’s deep tones filled the room as he slammed the door shut behind him.



Louisa was not bleeding. Nothing looked broken. He said a silent thanks for that. He’d hurried as fast he could, but there had been things he had to take care of, preparations he’d had to make to be sure all went as planned, that there were no mistakes. Still, he would never have forgiven himself if something had happened to her during the delay.