Perhaps, but neither of those things was acceptable as a reason for his spanking her out here on the Blackbornes’ terrace, where any one of the other guests could come outside and witness her humiliation.
Even more mortifying, she was starting to enjoy those sharp and resounding smacks. The flesh beneath her gown and drawers felt hot and tingly, and there was an unaccustomed heat spreading through the rest of her body. It caused her breasts to ache, her nipples to engorge, and between her thighs to feel swollen and hot.
Beatrix believed it to be her first time experiencing complete physical arousal. Which, in itself, was wonderful, especially as it was with James. But allowing him to know his effect on her would do nothing to further her cause of wishing him to see her as a fully mature woman, capable of taking care of herself, if necessary, and more than worthy of a man’s complete devotion.
She tried to wriggle around on his thighs, to deny him further access to the already burning flesh of her bottom, but the firmness of his hand on the center of her back prevented her from doing so.
She had not realized James was so strong, or that he could behave with such a lack of decorum as this.
But she should have. James had confided in her weeks ago that he had spent years living in London’s slums after his uncle believed he’d had James killed so that he might rob him of his fortune and the Ipswich title. She knew James had not survived those years by behaving as a gentleman, and that he still spent much of his time with the three young men who had been his partners in crime.
Beatrix huffed out an indignant breath. “If you were ever hoping to persuade me into changing my mind regarding your marriage proposal, then this has only confirmed that my first decision was the right one.”
He gave a dismissive snort. “If that is the case, then I have absolutely nothing to lose by continuing your chastisement.”
But instead of continuing to spank her bottom, as Beatrix had expected him to, James lifted and then turned her until her thighs were straddling his in a most unladylike manner. This new position also put pressure upon her already stinging bottom, increasing that physical ache inside her. It also parted her thighs shamelessly, making her aware of the heated throbbing there, and also that her drawers were becoming damp from the juices of arousal escaping her channel.
That pleasure continued to course and pulse through Beatrix’s body, making it difficult for her to even breathe. “James—” Her words were cut off abruptly when James’s lips claimed hers.
Not in a chaste or exploratory kiss, but one full of frustrated and demanding passion.
It was everything and more Beatrix had wanted from James. For him to see her as a desirable woman rather than one who was damaged and in need of his protection. She wanted him to view her as a woman who no longer wished to be hidden away from the world and treated with kid gloves. One who was not afraid to feel and return the same passion and desire as he did.
She entwined her arms over James’s shoulders, able to feel the muscular heat of his body through his shirt and waistcoat as she returned the passion of that kiss. She inwardly cursed the fact she still wore her lace gloves, because they prevented her from feeling the soft and silky darkness of James’s hair as she ran her fingers through it.
He placed his hands upon her stinging and hot bottom to pull her even closer to him. Allowing Beatrix to feel the bulge of his arousal pressing against her own heat. She might have chosen not to enter Society before this, but that did not mean she was ignorant regarding desire and procreation. Her mother had spoken to her of such things before she died. Of the passion which existed between a man and a woman, and the changes that occurred in their body during that arousal.
James was definitely aroused from kissing her!
The length of his rod resting against her belly told her that it was at least seven, possibly eight inches in length, and that it was at least four inches around.
Her back arched, pressing her thighs closer to his, but also allowing easier access as his warm and silky lips explored the tops of her breasts. Beatrix held her breath as she willed him to pull the material of her gown down and suckle one of her nipples into his mouth—
“James!”
The two of them broke apart guiltily at hearing the hissing reproof of James’s name. Beatrix buried her hot and embarrassed face against James’s shoulder, leaving him to be the one to turn and look at his sister, Bethany.
“People noticed the two of you leaving the ballroom within minutes of each other, and they are now starting to talk,” the countess told them regretfully.
“Who gives a fuck— I apologize for my unsuitable language, ladies.” James drew in a deep breath before gently but firmly lifting Beatrix from straddling his thighs. He straightened his own clothing over the bulge in his breeches as he rose to his feet. “I suggest Beatrix return to the ballroom with you, and I shall leave through the side gate in the garden leading out onto the street.”
Beatrix turned from straightening her gown to stare at him. “But—”
“I bid you good night, ladies.” James gave a terse bow without looking at either Beatrix or his sister before retrieving his jacket from the ground and striding purposefully away into the darkness.
Seconds later, there was the sound of a gate opening and then closing as he departed.
Beatrix was now the one who felt frustrated and annoyed, and for an entirely different reason than James.
Chapter Four
“Is there a reason why, for the past half an hour, you have been glaring daggers at
