Wicked Temptation (Regency Sinners 6)(9)

She gasped. “Why?”

Romney leaned back against the table, his body relaxed and one booted foot casually crossed over the other. “For many reasons.”

“Name them,” she challenged unwisely.

“Hm, let me see.” He pretended to give the matter some thought. “Your disrespect and rudeness toward me. Your disregard for your own reputation. Most of all,” he added firmly as she would have spoken, “because I believe you believe you deserve to be spanked, and I am more than willing to fulfill that need.”

Pru gave another gasp. “Why on earth should I think such a thing?”

Romney’s mouth tightened. “For the same reason I allowed myself to be pummeled and pounded at the boxing saloon once my burns were healed enough that I could take myself there.”

“And that is…?”

“We could not save them.”

She frowned her confusion. “I do not—”

“Because we both feel the same guilt at the knowledge we lived and Cilla and Worthington did not,” he clarified gruffly.

Pru felt all the color drain from her cheeks as Romney’s words hit home with the force of a hammer blow.

Was he correct? Was that what was wrong with her? Why, now that the past six weeks of numbness had been stripped away from her, she had trouble falling asleep at night and woke every morning still tired and filled with a rage she had no idea what to do with?

Was it possible she felt that way because of the reason Romney had stated?

“Well?” he challenged.

She swallowed. “Did sparring in the boxing ring make you feel better?”

“A little,” he conceded softly.

Was feeling a little less guilty worth the humiliation of being spanked?

More to the point, was she really going to bend herself over the top of that table and allow Titus to spank her?





Chapter 4


Titus maintained a patient silence as he once again watched the emotions flitter across Pru’s expressive face. Indignation at the thought of allowing anyone to spank her. A brief glimmer of hope that if she did as he asked, it might, just might, succeed in helping her to get past the pain of grief and guilt that consumed her day and night.

It had taken Titus several days of visiting Gentleman Jim’s boxing saloon, often choosing his opponents at random from the other gentlemen in attendance when none of the other Sinners were present, before he realized he was not exercising but deliberately punishing himself for not being able to save the lives of Worthington or Priscilla Germaine.

He’d now had three days to consider Pru’s sharpness and coldness of manner, and the reason for it. He had no doubt Pru’s parents and other relatives had been gentle and understanding with her after Priscilla died, as Titus had been at the wedding and then again when he called at Germaine House the following day. None of that gentle understanding had helped to alleviate the guilt roiling within her.

Pru was not angry at him or anyone else, but with herself. A sharpness and anger forged from the same guilt as Titus’s, and for the same reason.

Allowing his sparring opponents to pummel him into semiconsciousness had helped to ease his own feelings of inadequacy for several hours a day at least, so perhaps punishing Pru with a sound spanking would assist her in the same way?

That was his reasoning, anyway.

Along with the knowledge he would also enjoy the palm of his hand making contact with Pru’s plump backside.

“Well?” he prompted again at her continued silence.

She glanced toward the window overlooking the garden at the back of the house. “What if someone should see?”

He gave a hard grin. “That will only add to the…danger of your situation.”

She seemed to shake off the last of her hesitation as she stepped forward and bent over the table, her face turned to the side as she gazed at him with apprehension.

“Skirt up, drawers down,” Titus ordered briskly as he moved to stand behind her so that she would not see the effect her submissive posture was having upon him. His cock was so hard, it was a physical ache, his balls drawn up tight beneath, his sac full of heat.

What he wouldn’t give to now instruct Pru to part her legs before releasing his throbbing cock from his pantaloons and sliding it between her nether lips and into her hot, sweet pussy. He closed his eyes briefly to block the image he had of then pounding into Pru so hard and so fast, she was rhythmically pushed forward across the table every time he thrust to the hilt inside her.

However willingly she had acquiesced to his demand, Titus could not let his desire get the better of him and take her innocence in that brutal, savage way.

“Titus…?” She voiced her uncertainty at his delay.

The use of his given name caused him to draw in a sharp breath. That edge of nervousness in Pru’s tone had the opposite effect, Titus felt sure, to what she had intended.

If he showed so much as a flicker of weakness in his resolve to spank her, then he had no doubt it would only put more distance between them. That Pru would become even more withdrawn and set apart from her family and friends than she already was. Pru needed this physical chastisement, and he needed to be the one to give it to her.

“I said skirt up and drawers down,” he repeated harshly.

With only the briefest of hesitations Pru’s hands moved slowly to her sides to lift and then bunch up the skirt of her gown to her waist, revealing she wore white cotton drawers beneath.