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Duncan believes he can lead Brittany deeper into the world of BDSM, and with seductive Dominant skill, he introduces her to some of his favorite prurient pleasures, but a misunderstanding disrupts their happy holiday.
Brittany runs off, leaving Duncan filled with confusion and despair. He has no way of knowing where she might be, or how to find her. Alone and vulnerable in a strange city, Brittany is hurt, upset and vulnerable.
Will Brittany manage to stay out of harms way? Can Duncan find her before she gets herself in trouble? If they are reunited, will they find their Happily Ever After?
The Strict British Barrister: Act Two, is a tantalizing love story filled with surprises, spanking, romance and salacious sex. A tale that takes the reader from the exclusive Claridges Hotel in Knightsbridge, to a stately manor called Andover Abbey in the heart of the English countryside, a place where the word "naughty" takes on a whole new meaning.
Brittany didn’t know what tired was until she stepped off the plane at Heathrow.� She had been prepared for the long journey from Tahiti, almost nineteen hours in the air, and several more on the ground changing flights, but she hadn’t realized how utterly exhausting the trip would be.�
�������� Leaning against Duncan’s shoulder on his way into the city, as much as she wanted to gaze out at the sights all she could do was yawn.
�������� “I don’t know how you slept the way you did,” she remarked.�
�������� “Practice,” he replied.� “I can sleep in a courtroom with my eyes open, but don’t tell anyone I said that.”
�������� “How do people manage that long trip in economy?� It must be brutal.”
�������� “We’re very lucky,” he agreed. “I’m sure it’s not easy. Did you sleep at all?”
�������� “No, not really, and I feel very strange.”
�������� “We’ll be home soon, but I really would advise you try to stay awake until the sun goes down.� It will help you adjust.”
�������� “Not a chance,” she yawned again, “but I’m sure I’ll sleep right through until morning.”
�������� “I hope you’re right,” he sighed. “We only have three days before I have to get myself back into work mode.”
�������� “I’ll be fine,” she assured him, and as the car maneuvered its way through the traffic she nestled against him and closed her eyes.
�������� As he felt her mold against his shoulder, Duncan thought back to their extraordinary meeting, and the salacious days that followed. The cruise had been conducive to romance, but he had been stunned by Brittany’s fervent need to surrender; how rare it was to meet a woman so innocent and yet so willing.
�������� �Bringing her to London had been a spontaneous decision, and Duncan wasn’t a particularly spontaneous man, but she had tiptoed into his heart and he had found himself in a quandary; say goodbye in Tahiti and probably never see her again, or suggest she join him and explore the possibility of a relationship. That she lived in South Carolina and he in London had given him pause, but only a short pause; he simply hadn’t been ready to say goodbye.
�������� As the car pulled in front of his house, he reached into his overnight back and withdrew the front door keys from the security of their zippered compartment, jostling her awake in the process. The driver had moved quickly around the car to open the door, and grumbling about needing a shower and a bed she half-stepped, half-staggered, out on to the street.
�������� “Be careful, Madam,” the driver said formally, catching her elbow.
�������� “More hours in the air than should be legal,” she mumbled.
�������� “I’ll open the front door and you can bring the luggage in and leave it in the foyer,” Duncan said to the driver as he climbed from the car and joined them. “I have to pop upstairs, but I’ll only be a minute.”
�������� “Yes, Sir,” the driver replied touching his hat, “and I believe the young lady left her bag on the back seat.”
�������� “Ah, yes, thank you. Would you fetch it, please?”
�������� Helping Brittany up the front steps, he unbolted the locks, and pushing the door open he guided her inside.
�������� “This is great,” she mumbled staring around the foyer. “I really like the black and white tile floor, it’s so British, not that I know much about British things, but it looks like pictures I’ve seen, and television shows too. I’ll bet you have really good tea here, tea and crumpets. I’ve always wanted tea and crumpets. Aren’t you supposed to have them with honey?”
�������� “Brittany, you’re babbling,” he grinned, “come up the stairs.”
�������� “Do you have a shower in this house?”
�������� “Of course,” he replied patiently, “right now just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.”
�������� They climbed the stairs, and reaching the landing he directed her down the hallway to the double doors that led into his bedroom.
�������� “My stars, that is one inviting bed,” she muttered, spying the dark mahogany, heavily carved, canopied bed. “Hmmm, I’m looking forward to lying in that. It looks positively royal, and look at those beams,” she added lifting her gaze to the ceiling.
�������� “The sooner you take that shower, the sooner you’ll be able to do just that,” he said smoothly, moving her forward into the bathroom.
�������� “Good grief. I thought my folks had a great bathroom, but this...”
�������� Her tired eyes widened as she gazed at the white marble counters under the wide gilded mirrors, and when she saw the bathtub encased in highly polished wood she let out a small cry.
�������� “I have never seen anything like this. I don’t even know what to say.”
�������� “I’m particular, Brittany, as you will learn, and there are certain elements in my life that cannot be compromised. My bedroom and bathroom are two of those elements, but these matters can wait.� Here are your towels, and you’ll find anything else you might need in the drawers.� Feel free.”
�������� Lifting her eyes from the stunning sight, she gazed up at him and smiled.
�������� “Accomplished and unique,” he answered casually. “Now, however, I must deal with the driver. Take your shower. I may even join you in a minute.”
�������� “Duncan,” she sighed leaning against him, “I’m so tired, and this feels like some kind of dream.”
�������� “Perhaps it is, hopefully a dream come true?”
�������� “It sure feels like it right now,” she mumbled sleepily.
�������� “Into the shower with you,” he said firmly, “or must I spank you already?”
�������� “Spank me? No, I’m too tired to be spanked.”
�������� “That is completely irrelevant. You may be too tired to be spanked, but I’ll never be too tired to do the spanking.� You’d best remember that,” he said wagging his finger at her, then kissing her forehead he strode from the room.
�������� Brittany pulled off her clothes, and stepping into the large stall she stood for a moment, slightly bewildered, staring at chrome holes in the walls.
�������� “I know I’m tired, but what the hell?” she muttered. “Am I about to be body-sprayed?”
�������� Reaching forward to turn on the faucets she suddenly saw two of them labeled, STEAM.
�������� “Wow, a steam room. If I didn’t feel like I’d been hit by a bus I’d try it, so I guess these other two are for the shower?”
�������� Turing the knobs she closed her eyes, luxuriating in the hot water as it streamed over her from the waterfall shower head. She was searching for the soap when Duncan opened the door and poked his head in.
�������� “Care for some company?” he asked stepping in to join her.
�������� “You were quick,” she smiled moving her body close to his and wrapping his arms around his neck.
�������� “Indeed. I had incentive.”
�������� “Do you have soap? I can’t find any.”
�������� “No, I don’t have any soap here, but I do have gel.”
�������� Reaching past her shoulder he pushed the wall, and to her amazement the wide marble tile turned inward, revealing a shelf with a variety of lotions and potions.
�������� “Bath gel, shampoo, conditioner, shaving gel, and what’s this,” he frowned, “ah, yes, more bath gel. I bought this just before I left, lemon-basil. I thought it sounded rather appealing.”
�������� Lifting the face cloth from the rack behind the products, he pumped some of the exotic gel on to its surface and began to move it across her shoulders.
�������� “That smells really good,” she sighed.
�������� “Mmm, yes it does rather,” he agreed. “Turn around, please, and place your hands on the wall.”
�������� “You what? You’re not going to start being disagreeable already, are you?”
�������� “No, no, it’s just that I’m so tired.”
�������� “Stop worrying,” he scolded. “I’m here to help you. I’m going to give you a quick wash and put you to bed.”
�������� “I’ve never had a man wash me before,” she bleated. “It’s weird.”
�������� “Silly girl,” he sighed. “Everything is weird, as you put it, if you choose for it to be. Behave or I shall make good on my threat and spank you.”
�������� “Mmm, it does feel good,” she admitted as the small soft towel moved across her skin.
�������� “Of course it does,” he said warmly. “Close your eyes and enjoy it. That’s better. I just saw your shoulders drop.”
�������� Moving the foamy cloth down her back he slipped it quickly between her cheeks, and though she uttered a small cry of protest, he dallied there for a moment before turning her around to gently wash her face and neck.
�������� “Poor, tired, girl,” he crooned pumping more gel into his hands, “poor, tired girl.”
�������� Rubbing his palms together he slid them across her breasts, kneading and fondling, and in spite of her exhaustion she sighed heavily, leaning against the wall.
�������� “Yes, my dear, just like that,” he purred, “keep your eyes closed.”
�������� She could feel his fingers nimbly pinching her nipples, and moments later, when he slipped his other hand between her legs searching out her clit, she let out a small cry of need.
�������� “Hmm, just as I suspected,” he said softly, “wetter than the water dribbling down your body.� You’re a passionate soul, Brittany, and your body will always betray you.”
�������� “Duncan,” she sighed, “it’s almost as if you know me better than I know myself.”
�������� “Perhaps I do,” he whispered, “now be a good girl and let yourself surrender.”
�������� Pressing his thumb against her clit, he slid his finger gently into her channel, seeking out the hidden button deep within. Her sudden bleating told him he’d found it, and he began to alternate moments of frigging with moments of pressing, bringing her quickly to a shuddering climax.
�������� As she collapsed into his arms, he held her for a moment, stroking her back and whispering how gorgeous he thought she was. When she lifted her head and kissed him softly, he led her out of the shower to a love-seat covered in thick, soft towels, and sitting her down he dried her off, wrapping her head in a towel.
�������� “Now you’re relaxed, all that stress from the traveling is gone.”
�������� “I swear, I could pass out,” she sighed.
�������� “There’s a hair dryer in the middle drawer. I’ll turn the bed down and find you something to change into.”
�������� “Thank you, Duncan. I’ll try, but I’m not sure I even have enough energy to do that. Dry my hair I mean.”
�������� “Poor thing. Just do your best,” he smiled.
�������� Wrapping a towel around his waist he kissed her forehead, and as he ambled into his bedroom and began to place the decorative cushions aside, he heard the sound of the dryer.�
�������� “You’re going to be up at midnight,” he muttered to himself, “and be completely washed out all day tomorrow. Ah well, there’s nothing to be done about it.”
�������� After pulling back the bedcovers he wandered across to his antique chest of drawers, pulled out one of his soft cotton T-shirts, and was about to lay it on the bed when he heard the dryer switch off. A moment later she appeared in the doorway dressed in his robe.
�������� “Not a hundred percent dry, but close,” she murmured padding across to the bed.� “Is that for me?”
�������� “It is, unless you’d prefer to sleep naked.”
�������� “Honestly, I don’t care,” she sighed pulling off the robe and crawling between the sheets.
�������� “If you wake up in a couple of hours make sure you get up.� You really do need to try to adjust,” he said. “Going to bed now isn’t the best plan.”
�������� “I have to,” she frowned puffing up one of the pillows. “Aren’t you joining me?”
�������� “No, my goodness, no, it’s only morning.� I’ll be finishing my shower then running out to do some errands.”
�������� “I don’t know how,” she yawned.
�������� “I’ll check on you when I get back,” he promised pulling the bed covers over her.
�������� She closed her eyes and rolled on her side, and though she heard the shower starting back up, the sound lasted only seconds before sleep descended.
�������� Soaping Brittany’s gorgeous body and full, round, seat cheeks, had given Duncan a strong, hungry erection, and returning to stand under the steaming water, he was rubbing himself into his own, much needed orgasm.
�������� As he pictured his hand spanking her luscious bottom, images of her bound wrists and clamped nipples began floating through his mind, and leaning against the wall he groaned happily as his cock spewed forth; closing his eyes he sighed with a deep satisfaction.
�������� Ah, Brittany, I am seriously pleased that you’re here. There are some interesting days ahead, very interesting indeed.�����