“You are bound by the rules of this century, not yours. I shall hold you accountable in whatever way I wish.”
Twenty-three-year-old Kelly Regan didn’t expect much excitement when she took a job as a curator at a historic estate, but upon encountering a beautiful, mysteriously powerful mirror she suddenly finds herself transported back to the Victorian era.
Kelly is intrigued by the estate’s owner, the handsome bachelor Sir Henry Yarlswood, and in order to learn more about life in his household she impersonates another woman and obtains a position as his maid. But Henry is not a man who tolerates dishonestly from his staff, and after her deception is discovered Kelly’s bottom is bared for a painful, embarrassing spanking.
The stern punishment only increases Kelly’s desire to know more about her handsome employer, but after she is caught snooping through his personal effects she soon finds herself stripped naked for an even more shameful chastisement. Despite her sore bottom, however, she is deeply aroused by Henry’s firm-handed dominance, and when he claims her properly his masterful lovemaking leaves her spent and satisfied. But will their blossoming romance be enough to keep her by his side, even if it means leaving her old life behind forever?
Publisher’s Note: A Strict Gentleman includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
If this has whetted your appetite, then brace yourself for this sizzling little spanking excerpt…
Henry paused and flexed the rod before swishing it through the air a few times. It was a horrible sound, unmistakable. Her fantasy scenario of moaning girls and probing dominants with frisky fingers was nothing like the strict application of Henry’s cane.
“I wish to know, young lady,” Henry said as he continued to swish the cane through the air, “have you taken anything from this room?”
Taken? She’d looked in his journal, but not taken it. “No, sir,” she gasped.
The cane struck with a resounding thud and she drummed the palms of her hand on the seat of the chair. “No, I haven’t,” she repeated.
“Please keep your head up, Kelly. The mirror is there for both our benefits.”
He noticed she liked to look at him and he was using it to observe her too. It was an odd moment of reassurance. If he could see her face, the tears, the pained expression, he must be judging whether she was coping or on the verge of collapse. Was Henry so cruel as to want her to faint? She doubted it. Nothing she’d read in his journal, assuming he accurately portrayed his activities, implied he sought a woman’s injury or committed harmful acts. The cane stung like crazy, but it wasn’t being wielded with force, only accuracy.
She raised her head and stared at him. He nodded, then to her amazement, he stepped toward her behind and with his forefinger traced the line of the cane.
Kelly gasped, not because it hurt or made the mark throb any harder, but because it was tender and curative. For a few seconds she was thrilled, excited, and perversely aroused by that delicate touch. Now she throbbed in a new spot; her little nub was aching to be noticed.
“Because I know,” he said, stepping back, “that taken objects can be returned to their correct location without being missed.” He cracked the cane swiftly against her bottom.
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