Seducing the Master (An Erotic Historical in the Red Chrysanthemum Series) by Em Brown

own.”
    The young viscountess pulled herself to her
feet.
    “Both arms,” he said, “straight out at the
shoulders.”
    The two women lifted their arms in
compliance.
    “Now flap them once more. Without stopping
this time. For five minutes”
    Miss Terrell blew at a tendril of her hair
and rolled her eyes ever so slightly.
    Charles crossed his arms across his chest.
“For that little gesture, Miss Terrell, you have earned yourself ten minutes.”
    Frowning, she gave him a hard stare.
    He turned back to Miss Katherine, whose arms
moved but sagged far below the shoulders. “Higher, Miss
Katherine.”
    She shook her head. “Please, Master Gallant.
Will you not have mercy? My arms are greatly fatigued.”
    “You wish to desist?”
    “Yes, please!”
    “I can only grant mercy when you demand
it.”
    At a loss, she appeared panicked.
    “Higher!” he barked of her arms.
    “I demand it, Master Gallant, I demand
mercy,” she cried.
    “Demand me to desist properly.”
    “John!” Miss Terrell provided. “Or was it
Jean?”
    Realization dawned for Miss Katherine. “Yes!
Jean! I demand ‘Jean’!”
    With a relieved sigh, he nodded for her
stop. With an even greater sigh, Miss Katherine let fall her arms
and sat down upon the bed behind her.
    “I did not say you could sit,” he said.
    She jumped to her feet. “Your pardon. Master
Gallant, may I sit?”
    “You may.”
    With another sigh, she sank back down.
    “Well done, Miss Katherine,” he said. “You
are proving an apt pupil.”
    More apt than this one , he thought to
himself as he stood before Miss Terrell. She continued to flap her
arms though the strain was visible upon her furrowed brow. She,
too, could have called upon her safety word, but he did not wish
for her to use it. Miss Terrell needed to learn a lesson first.
    “You boasted you require no safety word,” he
said, looking upon his pocket watch. “Was that a premature
statement on your part?”
    Gritting her teeth, she said nothing. Her
arm movements made her bosom rise and fall. He allowed himself a
quick glance at her décolletage before stepping back and taking a
seat in an armchair opposite her. He needed the distance or he
might be tempted to do more than have her flap her arms. He might,
for example, want to unlace her corset and affix weights to her
nipples. Propping an ankle over his other leg, his comfortable
position a clear contrast to her situation, he put down his book
but continued to hold the pocket watch.
    Miss Katherine glanced between them, clearly
wanting to plead for Miss Terrell but not daring to.
    “Five minutes more,” he informed.
    The small room was quiet but for the sound
of Miss Terrell grunting. Given that her muscles must have been on
fire, he suspected the minutes passed like hours for her. If it was
punishment she desired, he would deliver it, but it might not be
the sort she would enjoy. He wondered what other manner of
punishment would suffice. Leaving her to hang in bondage had not
deterred her. Nor had the spanking. Perhaps he ought to have used a
paddle to her backside. The memory of her charming arse made him
shift in his chair. His hand would have liked to connect once more
with that smooth and supple flesh.
    “Three minutes,” he said.
    Her lashes fluttered and her grunts
lengthened as she struggled to lift her arms. She had mentioned
toiling in the fields. Might she have once worked upon a
plantation? He knew little of her save that she had been a favorite
of Mr. Worthington, a slave owner from the West Indies. He realized
her way of speaking differed from any he had heard before in
London. Having spent the better part of the last two years in the
Orient, however, he had grown accustomed to strange intonations. He
had tried his best to master the Chinese language but, while he
heard the various inflections in each of their words, he could not
perfectly reproduce them.
    “Two minutes.”
    Miss Terrell emitted a growl, but he could
see she was determined