by Lee Savino
“You think a beating will be enough to save me?” Francesca whispered.
“It would.” The man’s eyes shone with a sick light. “Once you confess your sins, and I tell you the horrors that await you, you would beg me to flay your back, to sacrifice your skin for your immortal soul.”
Francesca’s lips curved. If only he knew the current state of her bottom. “My soul is quite well, thank you. And I suspect any man who wants to whip my bare skin holds lust in his heart, priest or no.”
“You dare.” The Bishop’s lips whitened and his nostrils flared. “You accuse me of sin when you are headed straight for hell.”
“I prefer hellfire to heaven, if my mother is there.”
The man lost it. “Oh, be assured, she is in hell with the whores and Jezebels. I did not speak out too loudly when your father or husband was alive, but she was a devil worshiper. She did depraved and evil things for her healing powers. I came across her naked in a grove, performing profane rituals with her naked body.”
“I bet she wasn’t happy when she found you hiding in the woods, ogling her.” Francesca shot back. “I bet she gave you a piece of her mind. You’re lucky she didn’t tell my father. For all his wisdom, he had a temper—I know, I inherited it. He would’ve done more than flay your back for sneaking around trying to catch glimpses of his wife.”
The Bishop’s face flushed red, indicating that she’d hit upon the truth.
Sebastian found his wife in the middle of the marketplace, facing off with a tall, robed man three and a half times her weight, and hastened to her side. Francesca’s bright flushed cheeks, and knitted dark brows and glare, told him the conversation was about to turn violent.
“You will stay away from my mothers, or you will answer to me.”
“Oh, do you threaten me with a curse? What further proof of your wicked art.”
“Darling,” Sebastian broke in. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
Her gaze shot to him, and her expression changed from anger to a little relief? Regret?
He came to her side and put his arm around her, facing the other man. A priest type from the look of him. “Hello, I’m Lord Chivington.”
“Lord Chivington. I’ve heard of you.” The man didn’t offer his name, but Sebastian hazarded a guess that this was the Bishop Bernardo.
“All bad things, I’m sure,” Sebastian said cheerfully. He grinned like a madman at the bishop while he sized the man up. The bishop was corpulent and wore robes along with a calculating look. The way he’d been eyeing Francesca made Sebastian want to gouge his eyes out. All the more reason for her to take an escort everywhere. “But nothing that can’t be redeemed by my lady’s love.”
The bishop’s mouth twisted. “Yes, I had heard of your marriage.”
“And you’re not going to congratulate us?”
“You did not marry in the church,” the Bishop addressed Francesca, who, tucked under Sebastian’s arm with a troubled look on her face, seemed to be barely listening.
“Couldn’t find a proper one,” Sebastian said. “No offense, old boy, but I can’t have anything to do with all that papal tradition. Church of England’s the way, or my mother will be rolling in her grave. Now excuse us.” With an arm around Francesca’s shoulders, Sebastian left the bishop to fume.
“Doesn’t look like either of us will be attending mass on the morrow,” Sebastian said lightly.
“I have nothing against the church or priests. There are good men,” Francesca huffed. “It is only that gusano I despise.” She inserted the Spanish word for ‘worm.’ “He is fat, gorged on his own power. I should not provoke him.”
“He did strike me as a man not to be trifled with.”
“I do not trust him,” Francesca told her husband as they grew closer to the hacienda. “He coveted my mother, and hated her.”
“How do you know?”
“A woman can tell these things.”
He frowned. “Do you think he’s dangerous?”
She shrugged. “Who knows? He is like a snake in the grass. He may strike, or just slither away.”
They entered the garden gates, Sebastian nodding at the guards. In the garden, he tugged on her hand until she faced him, and tipped her chin.
“Do you see now why I want a guard on you at all times?”
A smile played around her mouth but she repressed it.
“I told her I would give her some herbs, and I fulfilled my promise.”
“Yes, and now I will fulfill mine.”
“Are you going to punish me?”
“Oh, yes, my lovely. And knowing you, you’ll enjoy it.”
Her mouth quirked in a self-satisfied smile. Little did she know, he had a plan.
Her reckoning didn’t come until after dinner. Through Juan’s talk of drought, and Ana bringing up the town’s gossip about the confrontation with Bishop Bernardo, Sebastian found himself eager to escape. Francesca’s foot found his under the table, toying with his until he slid his chair back.
“Well, early start tomorrow. Better turn in.”
Cage smirked at him and Ana smiled, but Sebastian didn’t care. He rose and Francesca did too, making her own excuse.
The walk to their bedroom was the longest of his life. His wife’s hips swayed enticingly and he found his steps quickening.
Outside the door, he changed his mind and, gripping her hips, pushed her forward further.
“Office,” he said. “Go in there, strip, and wait for me, bent over the desk.”
She hesitated, and he smacked her bottom.
“Go. Or I won’t touch you at all tonight.”
That sent her scrambling. He chuckled to himself as he stopped by the bedroom to pick up a few things before heading to the office. He found her there as ordered, naked and waiting with her elbows resting on the desktop and her sweet backside presented to the door.
He couldn’t resist going straight to her and giving her bottom a few happy slaps before ordering her to stand.
“Open.” He placed a thick peeled stick between her mouth and used string to tie it around her head, gagging her. “That’s better.”
Ignoring her glare, he pointed to the desk. “Back in position.” The angry flush on her beautiful cheeks only made her more beautiful. Once she was down, he steadied her with a hand on her back and spanked her lightly to warm her skin up. Francesca both loved and hated him taking control. The trick would be to walk the line, to let her know how much he cared for her, while giving her the humiliating pain she craved. It was a challenge he intended to meet straight on.
“You were a very naughty wife today,” he told her. “Going out without permission. Perhaps I should tie you to the bed at night.” He stopped spanking her for a moment to trace the curve of her bottom with a reverent finger. “I’ll keep you trussed and bound for me. Arse up, of course. That way I can bugger you any time I please.” He spanked her hard for a few seconds, then let his fingers find her tender folds. She wriggled and he went back to smacking her cheeks, admiring the smooth caramel globes.
“You really have the most delicious arse, my darling,” he told her, and delivered a steady stream of swats to one perfect buttock, then the other. “If all the women in the world were lined up, arse out, I’d still pick you.”
His fingers dipped to check her response to the backhanded compliment. Even if she took offense, her cuntpurse was dripping.
She started to rise up off the desk, and he put his hand on her neck and pushed her back down, pinning her easily. “Stay,” he ordered, giving her three harsh ones on each sit spot. Her cheeks were starting to warm nicely, the silky skin turning an even pink. “Naughty wives get spanked. You left without an escort, without permission. You’re lucky I don’t give you the belt, the cane and the birch. But you’d like it too much, wouldn’t you?”
She made a noise of protest and he slid his fingers between her lower lips. “Let’s just see what your body says. Ah, yes.” He held his hand close
to her face for inspection. “Wetter than an acequia in spring.” She made another noise, a humiliated sound, and he gave her bottom one more satisfied slap.
“Go stand in the corner with your nose to the wall and think on what you’ve done.”
He was almost surprised when she obeyed. His threat from earlier was working. Trust his beautiful Francesca to be afraid not of the whip, but of spending the night untouched and unsatisfied. He could tell by her sharp breathing and clenched fists that the belittling punishment was hard for her to bear. To add insult to injury, he went to Cyro’s old decanter and fixed himself a drink. Let her hear him enjoying himself. Let her stew in submission. He caught sight of her head turning.
“No peeking. And hands on your head. Don’t want your hand to slip and rub out any of that nasty sting.” He settled himself in the chair and enjoyed his drink and the sight of his naked wife, lithe brown limbs and curved hips and waist; a bottom like two rose petals. Still a bit pink for his tastes. He couldn’t wait to make them red.
This was fun. It was discipline, but it was all pretend. The real punishment would come later.
“All right now, my darling. Come now, over my lap. Time to really heat your cheeks.”
She came back, blowing against the gag.
“You’re being so good.” He removed the stick from her mouth before positioning her over his knees. “You know why I do these things to you, darling?”
“Why?”
“Because they make you so very wet.” He reaffirmed his point by stroking her lower lips and feeling her shudder. “You like it. The pain, the humiliation. It takes you away to a place of pure feeling.”
Her breathing quickened.
“You’re safe here with me,” he whispered. “This game we play where I’m in control…You can let go. I won’t let you fall.” His fingers fluttered against her little nub until she gasped his name.
“What’s that, my darling? You want release?” He stopped stroking her and peppered her bottom with a flurry of hard smacks, then went back to rubbing. He did that, alternating between smacks and fingering her until she whimpered and rocked over his lap.
“Part your legs. Let me see. If you can come from this, you can come.”
He swatted between her legs, savoring her long moan. The sensation would vibrate through her, tripping from pain to pleasure. He did it again.
“One more,” he guessed, and gave it to her. Her body bucked as her orgasm took her. He rested his hand on her back, enjoying the sight of her in the throes of passion. When it was over, she hung limp over his legs, her hair brushing the floor. She was probably drooling.
He soothed her with long strokes down her back and legs, caressing her hot backside. After a few minutes of touching, she shifted on his lap. He’d riled her back up, and his cock was nice and hard and ready.
“My turn, darling,” he said. “Kneel before me.”
Her face and chest were flushed beautifully with arousal. He traced her full lips with his thumb, smiling at the mixture of lust and defiance in her eyes. She loved his orders, and hated them.
“Here we are, my lovely.” He presented his cock to her. “Give your master some relief.”
She licked him up and down, then swallowed him until he spent into her mouth.
“Now,” he growled. “It’s time for your punishment.”
Her eyes widened.
“Bedroom, my lovely.”
She made a move to rise and he pointed to the floor. “Crawl.”
They reached the bedroom with her on her hands and knees. He’d taken the belt and whipped her with it, driving her before him. Francesca couldn’t believe she would let herself fall into such base acts. A few choice words from her ignoble noble and she lost all good sense, but after a long day of working her ranch and caring for her patients, it was almost a relief to grovel. The degradation was such a pure, powerful feeling, taking over her limbs, setting her free.
She panted as she moved. The leather slapped her skin, tipping the blaze in her bottom into an inferno. Every nerve, every part of her was on fire, but not with pain. With desire.
“Up,” he ordered and she crawled onto the bed. She flattened her chest to the quilt, offering her lower half to him. He continued with the belt, beating her bare ass, and she rocked into each slap. Somehow her mind didn’t register the sting as painful. The snap of the belt was a lover’s kiss, sharp and perfect.
“Please.” She let her bottom sway, in the air, trying to entice him. “I need it.”
“I don’t know if you deserve it.”
“Please, I will be so good…”
His hand went to tease her and she gasped against the bed. She was so close.
He flipped her over and started lapping at her folds.
“Oh, Sebastian,” she cried, raising her bottom off the bed, in part to keep her spanked flesh clear, and part to offer herself to him.
He kissed her cuntpurse like it was her mouth, as if he enjoyed the juicy taste. Tremors rolled through her as she started to quicken.
Then her husband stopped and stood, wiping his mouth.
She writhed on the bed, fighting to reach the fading orgasm. “What are you doing?” she cried out.
He loomed over her with a wicked smile.
“Sebastian.” She reached for him. If he wanted her to beg, she would.
“Time for bed, darling.”
Francesca let out a burst of Spanish. He raised a brow as if to say, “insults will not sway me.”
She took the hint, and came to all fours on the bed, crawling closer. “Please, mi amor. I need you.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you went wandering about. I told you you were to be punished.”
“You spanked me!”
“That’s not punishment. You like it.”
“I don’t like the cane or the birch…”
“Are you offering to go pick a birch?”
She grimaced, but he could see she was considering it. “No darling. It’s late, and, as I said, this is punishment.”
She sat up, frowning, hair falling in her face.
“But, Sebastian.” She reached for his stiff dick. It didn’t make sense; he was ready for another go. This punished him as much as it did her. “I can make you feel good…”
He stepped away. “None of that now, or I’ll tie you to the bed. You got one orgasm tonight. Now take your punishment like a good girl.”
She huffed and slammed down onto the bed, pressing her face to a pillow. Hiding a grin, Sebastian lay down beside her, pulling her to him and tucking his long form into her back. She let him hold her.
“If you’re good, in the morning I’ll give you your reward.”
When Sebastian woke the next morning, something tickled his face. A warm weight lay on top of him, and he smelled rosewater and herbs. He smiled at such a pleasant dream.
“Wake up, milord,” Francesca whispered. He opened his eyes to a lovely sight. His naked wife straddled and leaned over him, her black hair tickling his bare skin.
He could get used to waking up like this.
“Is it morning?” He started to stretch and realized his hands and feet were tied.
“Not yet,” she purred.
He frowned, pulling at the binds. She’d trussed his limbs to the four poster bed. “Darling…”
Moving over him, she slid her beautiful cuntpurse closer to his face. “I have a job for you,” she said.
Sebastian’s eyes widened as she hovered over his face.
“You will lick me,” she ordered him, presenting her wet, pink folds to his lips.
He didn’t like being tied and told what to do, but if she wanted to play, he would play. And he could never resist a beautiful quim. He kissed her lower lips a few times, then delved there with his tongue, slurping her sweetness. Her folds were so soft and sensitive. He licked, sucked and worked his tongue inside while she shook over him.
“Yes,” she growled. She fisted his hair in a painful grip, pul
ling him closer and riding his face to her climax. She fell to the side, sated, while Sebastian waited and licked his lips.
“Good boy,” she sighed.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. She’d gotten what she wanted, in true Francesca style.
As she climbed off the bed, his own cock stood up like a ship’s mast, hopeful. She reached for it and Sebastian strained against the bonds, raising his hips to her touch…
At the last minute, she snatched her hand away. “No. I have things to do.” To Sebastian’s horror, she flounced to the door. “Wait here for me, like a good boy. I may want your mouth again.”
She gave him a look of pure, wicked triumph.
“Francesca, no, untie me.”
She blew him a kiss just before she shut the door.
When she returned, a few minutes later, he breathed in relief. She’d bound him better than he’d imagined she could and it would take him a while to work free.
“Darling.” He let his head fall back with a sigh. His cock still waving in the air.
“Did you miss me?” She climbed up on the bed by his hips, and he watched warily. He didn’t like the look in her eye, but when she lowered her head and engulfed his cock in her mouth, he could only pant in pleasure. Her tongue rolled around his manflesh, promising release. She sucked on him just enough to get him very hard, then stopped again.
Sebastian groaned.
“Now, now.” She shook a finger at him as she climbed off the bed. “I will come back and enjoy you when I’m ready. I need to finish some things in the apothecary.”
“Francesca,” he said in a serious tone. “If you leave me like this, you will not like the consequences.”
Her laughter floated around him, telling him she looked forward to whatever he would dish out.
“One more thing I forgot.” She pushed the cloth into his mouth, gagging him. “This will hold you until I return.” She kissed his brow, her mouth curved in a mocking smile. “Think of me. Think of my beautiful cunny.”