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split cutting into my groin where these damn pedal-pushers have been causing me grief all day as they pressed hard on my private places, making me ache every time my thoughts strayed anywhere near Darnley.
    He watches in silence, his eyes locked on mine, waiting for the tell-tale flicker in my face that tells him his command is being rigorously obeyed.
    ‘Keep feeling. I want to see that wicked little fingertip working that greedy, needy clit. And if you dare to
come
–’ his voice lowers to a predatory growl ‘– the spanking you’re about to get will become even longer and a lot harder.’
    ‘Like something else I could mention?’ I arch my neck as he lowers my zip a fraction further, his fingers lingering on my navel as he does it, skimming the edge of my slim, straining wrist where my hand is wedged into my crotch and my gently working finger is already edging me ever closer to my doom.
    All at once his fingers skim my wrist and clamp around my slim bones, his grip so fierce I look down at him in alarm.
    ‘Don’t stop.’ He sounds husky, and now I see his eyes are fixed on my wristbone and the places where it disappears easily into his circling, vice-like thumb-to-finger circlet.
    What now?
What tiny facet of my flexing, delicate wrist has caught his attention? It’s like he’s transfixed, his chest barely moving. Has he forgotten to breathe?
    I ruffle his hair with one hand and stoop to kiss it, my lips barely touching its mass of springy, fresh-washed chestnut, gilt-tipped now in the low sunlight slanting in from the dying sunset that bathes the vista outside his vast windows in a wash of gold.
    ‘Darnley?’
    He looks up slowly, his eyes dark with purpose and the prospect of hidden, complex pleasures. ‘Nearly there?’
    I shudder as his sudden question sparks a violent jolt of arousal from my swollen, fiery bud, thudding with building excitement as my finger obediently torments it towards climax.
    ‘Good,’ he says, softly. ‘Now take your hand away and get over my knee, you naughty girl. Dressing like a tramp
and
feeling yourself? You think that kind of behaviour goes unpunished for long round here?’
    I stare at him as flames flicker through me, well aware that in seconds he’s going to find I’m shamefully aroused. I may even
show.
    His eyes flash. ‘
Well?
’
    Startled, I forget my moistening shame for a second and jerk back into play. ‘Yes, sir,’ I jabber. ‘Er, no, sir.’
    He arches an eyebrow, his query cynical. ‘Well? Which? It goes unpunished or not?’
    My breathing’s faster now, my cheeks filling with colour as my excitement builds. ‘It goes unpunished. I mean it goes punished.
Dammit
,
Darnley, just do it already.’
    I collapse over his knee, laughing now, but confused. Everywhere down inside my pedal-pushers glows in a lake of flame as my tormented bud presses into the tight fabric. I curve low, the lacy line of my thong an extra torment and painfully tight as I bend over. At the same moment he forces my thighs apart and chuckles softly as he discovers my shame.
    ‘And what’s this? You’re
close
? And we’ve barely started? Wicked girl. This earns extra strokes. Open your legs. Keep them nice and straight. Put your hands behind your back and keep them there. I’ll make a couple of tiny adjustments to improve the view.’
    I strain to hold position while he wrenches my top down below my hanging breasts, scooping their weight out of my fancy bra-cups so they bulge out over the ridge of fabric. In the mirror opposite I look like a porno ad. He looks – as always – like some classical god.
    So
unfair.
    I watch him, entranced, as he gazes down at me, his perfect profile motionless, rapt now as he peels my straining pedal-pushers down a little way over my hips to the place just below the tops of my thighs where they start to split apart. He pauses a moment, dips his head and drops a kiss on both sides of my now exposed and, I assume, deliciously quivering rump, thrust