by Renee Rose
“Get dressed now, lady. We must to get on the road or we’ll not make it to Rothburg by nightfall.”
He moved to close the shutters to the window, which still stood open.
Desperation took hold. Without a plan, she lunged forward and snatched the dagger from his belt.
He whirled, his hand flashing out and snatching the dagger. He grasped her arm and slapped the flat of the blade to her backside. “Now you most certainly earned a punishment,” he said, not sounding the least bit angry or even disappointed that she had just attempted to threaten his life. In fact, he seemed almost amused.
Dropping the dagger into his scabbard, he picked her up by the waist and carried her back to the chair. She caught a look of merriment in his eyes just before he tugged her across his thighs and lifted her tunic up her back. His huge paw clapped down on her upturned backside and she jerked, closing her mouth to the squeal that rose to her throat. He applied his hand four more times then created a new panic in her by yanking down her leggings to expose her bare bottom. She struggled against his hold, but he held her fast with an arm around her waist.
He picked up spanking again, slapping one cheek then the other in rapid succession. “We’re going to have a hard time together if you insist on trying to kill one or both of us,” he remarked, sounding quite calm considering how hard his hand connected with her stinging cheeks.
“I wasn’t going to kill you,” she said, as sulky as a child. Her initial gratitude at being punished with nothing more than his hand faded as her buttocks grew sore under his continued assault.
“No? What were you going to do, my lady?”
“I know not! I just—”
He chuckled, his hand still slapping a steady rhythm. “I enjoy your pluck, little one. But you’ve proven yourself dangerous. I will have to bind your hands until I’m sure you won’t kill me or run off.”
She wiggled and bounced, trying to dodge his hefty palm.
When she kicked her legs, he said, “You earned this spanking, little one. Lie still and take it or I’ll use my belt instead.”
She froze, crossing her ankles together and squeezing them to keep from moving. The strange, squirming sensation in her belly returned. “Please,” she cried. “Please, just let me go.”
“Go where, sweet lady? I will gladly free you if you can prove to me you have a place to go where you will be safe and well cared for. Do you have such a place?”
She moaned. Of course she had no such refuge. And her poor bottom burned as if on fire now. More than that, she wanted out of the humiliating position. She imagined the picture she made with her leggings around her thighs and her bare bottom angled up for his view. And could he see… the other?
“Forgive me!” she cried.
He stopped spanking and lifted her to stand between his knees. “I do forgive you, little one. I know you’re just frightened about what your future will hold,” he said. “But I still cannot allow bad behavior to go unpunished.”
She could not bring herself to look at him, her eyes dancing around the floor. Her face burned nearly as much as her bottom. She bit her cheek to keep her lips from trembling. It would be foolish to cry from a simple hand spanking. Still, she did not know how to act after the humiliating punishment.
Fortunately he did not demand she answer to him eye-to-eye. Instead, he bent down and pulled her leggings to her ankles, then wrestled them off over her boots.
She tugged down her chemise, which had been tucked inside her leggings, trying to cover her intimate parts.
He stood and pulled her tunic off over her head, leaving her in just the chemise. “Bring me your dress,” he said. He sounded perfectly businesslike, as if stripping and dressing women was an ordinary activity for him.
Her face still burning with embarrassment, she darted to the trunk and picked up her gown. She didn’t bring it to him, though. Instead, she pulled it over her head as quickly as possible, anxious to cover her body. She sensed him behind her and whirled.
He picked up her wrists, one of her ribbons dangling in his hands. “Hold them together for me,” he said.
She considered resisting, but realized she wouldn’t succeed, and her bottom already smarted enough from the spanking. She didn’t want another one. She took deep breaths, trying not to panic as she held her hands out.
He wound the ribbon around and around.
She stood on trembling legs, her emotions brewing just beneath the surface. She hardly knew what to think or how to act after that spanking. She certainly wished it had never happened. Part of her wanted to curl up and cry, the way she had as a child, but that was foolish—it hadn’t hurt that much. Still, she felt quite chastised—ashamed of her foolish and desperate actions. She also experienced a curious fluttering sensation in her stomach. Not fear so much as… something else.
Her bottom clenched just looking down at the knight’s large hands. She stole a glance at his face. He had a rugged appearance with a large head and strong, square jaw. Smile lines around his eyes and mouth softened the look. He wore a bear claw on a cord around his neck and his barrel chest rippled with solid muscle under his tunic. Her skin prickled at being so close to him. Or was that his heat burning right through her dress to warm her skin?
He wrapped the entire length of ribbon before tying a knot.
At first she thought it might be easy to escape a simple ribbon, but he’d fastened her wrists so securely she could not twist or wiggle them at all. Grinning at her, he bent forward at the waist and caught her hips with his shoulder, heaving her up like a sack of potatoes.
“My lord,” she exclaimed. “Please… this is entirely undignified.”
“Sorry, lady,” he said, striding toward the door. “You gave up your right to be dignified when you tried to climb out that window.” He opened the door and stepped out in the corridor. “And you gave up your right to the free use of your hands when you reached for my dagger. For now, you must resign yourself to being at my mercy. And if I were you, I would remember there are consequences to your actions.”
His squire fell in behind them, looking amused, but Sir Barrett growled, “Not a word, Penrod.”
“Of course not, sir,” the young man said, his expression turning blank as he hurried to keep pace.
Chapter Two
For a man who had not come looking for a woman or wife, Barrett’s sense of victory at claiming Daisy soared as he carried her out. He loved everything about her, from her misguided courage to the way she’d turned docile when he chastised her. And oh, that spanking…
His mind had been seared by the sight of her bare buttocks bouncing under his hand and the humility with which she’d stood before him afterward, unable to meet his eye. She would be easy to correct, as a wife. Her defiance had been sparked by fear, not pride. Once he earned her trust, she’d be tame as a kitten. Not that he minded her misbehavior or additional opportunities to correct her.
The castle priest stood by the portcullis, performing brief marriage ceremonies for each couple departing. He dropped Daisy to her feet and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her and covering her bound wrists as they faced the priest, simply out of respect for the church.
The priest looked grim, as if he did not approve of the task given him, but knew no better option. He cleared his throat. “What is your name, sir?”
“Sir Barrett.”
“Sir Barrett, wilt thou have Lady Daisy to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
He rubbed Daisy’s arms to comfort her trembling. “I will,” he answered solemnly. He worried what would happen when Daisy refused her half of the vows, but the priest wisely skipped the lady’s part altogether.
“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. Bless our brother and sister, oh lord. We pray for your guida
nce that Sir Barrett may honor his vows until death parteth him from his wife.” With this pronouncement, the priest fixed him with a beady stare.
He quirked a smile. “My vow is true.”
The priest placed a hand on Daisy’s head, his brows knit with concern. “May God watch over you and protect you as you begin your new life.”
“Thank you, Father David,” she said, her voice sounding choked.
“I will watch over and protect my wife,” he said, more gruffly than he intended.
A line of couples had gathered behind them. Lord Gallien of Minrova held a reluctant lady’s arm and appeared to be reasoning with her. Daisy cast an anxious look over her shoulder.
“She will fare well,” he assured her. “Lord Gallien is a well-bred and chivalrous knight.” He lifted her into his arms, cradled baby-style this time, and carried her to where his small troop had gathered.
With a little maneuvering, he managed to arrange her in the saddle before he mounted behind her. Penrod untied his rope and handed him the reins. “I will pack her things in my saddlebag and take the rear, my lord.”
“Thank you, Penrod,” he said, urging his horse forward to lead, one arm wrapped around Lady Daisy’s narrow waist.
She sat ramrod straight, as if to avoid touching him as much as possible. Even so, her warm thighs nested against his. Her soft bottom, spread by the saddle, pushed back against his cock, nearly making him groan as it thickened in response. Her hair smelled fresh, reddish lights glinting in the weave of her blond braid. She wore no hair covering, which seemed strange, but he preferred her this way, her beauty shining without obstruction.
She twisted in the saddle to look back at Hohenzollern, pain showing in her expression. He wondered how many loved ones she had lost that day.
“What will happen to Princess Susanna?”
“She will be taken to the holy Roman emperor for trial.”
Daisy gasped. “But she’s done nothing. It was all Eberhard, her uncle.”
Barrett agreed, but he doubted the princess would receive much sympathy. “We will pray for her safety,” he said.
Daisy swallowed. “For everyone leaving Hohenzollern,” she said, her words sounding strangled.
“I am sorry, my lady,” he said softly. He didn’t regret taking her as his wife, but he pitied her loss.
Her focus jerked to his face, surprise registering. Her eyes brightened with tears, but none fell. She nodded. “I believe you,” she whispered.
His heart skipped to hear she might not blame him entirely. He leaned forward and kissed her temple. “I will take good care of you,” he said. “I promise.”
She turned to face forward without answering.
His eyes traced the elegant curve of her neck and it took all his self-control not to lean forward and nibble on the little shell of her ear. He would have plenty of time to woo her later. Now she deserved a little restraint. He picked up the hood of her cloak and covered her head to remove temptation and protect her against the wind.
Penrod caught up and he picked up the pace, riding swiftly to reach Rothburg by nightfall. They arrived just in time for supper.
As they waited for the gates to open, Daisy stared up at the castle.
“It’s not nearly so big as Hohenzollern,” he said, fearing she found it lacking.
“But far better tended,” she said, her gaze sweeping over the outer wall and gate.
He remembered that Hohenzollern had shown some wear, as if repairs had not been kept up in the last few years. “Yes, my brother always has the men working on upkeep,” he said. His mount surged forward when the gates opened, eager for his stall and fresh hay. When they arrived, he dismounted and handed the reins to a stable boy, then lifted his new wife down. He loved the feel of her slender waist under his hands. He could hardly wait to strip off her clothing and… he shook his head. Patience. Supper first. Then seduction.
He washed up with the basin of water outside the castle door and dropped his armor and weapons in the arms room. Turning Daisy to face him, he removed her cloak and sent Penrod up to his chamber with her things.
She held out her wrists for him to untie her but he shook his head, smirking. “Sorry, lady, you have not yet earned my trust. For now, you’ll have to rely on me to be your hands.”
She flushed, frowning.
He led her to the dining hall where the men shouted their greetings. “Aha, there, Bear! You captured a lady!”
“Is she a lady or slave? Look, he has her bound!”
“I see you conquered Hohenzollern. You should have brought Princess Susanna back here hogtied!”
He ignored them and led Daisy to the high table, where his half-brother, Prince Erik, sat.
Erik stood and clasped his forearm. “Welcome back, brother. How fared the battle at Hohenzollern?”
He bowed. “Well. The princess surrendered today on the condition all women would be taken as wives, not slaves.” He could not keep the foolish grin off his face.
Erik raised his eyebrows, looking amused. “I never expected you to return with a wife,” he said.
“May I present Lady Daisy. I found her bravely defending the castle with her bow and arrow.”
Erik chuckled, his gaze traveling to her bound hands. “I take it she comes unwilling?”
“Aye, but she’ll get used to me in time,” he said and the men at the table laughed.
“If you can’t control her, why don’t you just give her a taste of the strap?” one of the knights called out.
“Oh, she’ll feel my belt when she displeases me,” he said mildly.
Daisy delighted him with a shiver beneath his grasp and he patted her little arse to remind her of his mastery. Oh, how he hoped she would test him again. He would love to have her bent over his knee again. Perhaps the next time he’d insist she be naked for her punishment.
He sat down on the bench near the prince, pulling Daisy to perch on his lap.
She struggled, trying to slide off his knees and onto the bench beside him.
He tugged her back against him. “Where do you think you’re going, little one?”
“Please, Sir Barrett,” she murmured in an undertone, as if trying to avoid a scene.
“I’m sorry, love. Your hands are tied. You will need me to feed you and that makes my lap the best place for you to sit.”
* * *
A flush of heat burned from Daisy’s sex all the way up to her face. Sir Barrett’s body connected with too many parts of her own for comfort. His torso melded to her back, his muscular thighs supported her bottom, and both arms surrounded her.
“Please, my lord. This is unseemly.”
His hand connected with the part of her bottom available to him in a light, but symbolic spank. Her bottom crawled at the memory of his earlier paddling.
“My lady, you are mine now, given to my care. Do not argue with me.” He pulled a piece of bread from the loaf on the table and held it to her lips.
She meant to refuse. After all, she should not eat like a trained dog from his fingers, especially with everyone looking on, as if she was their entertainment for the evening. But her mouth heeded her stomach’s desire rather than her head’s, opening and accepting the fresh bread.
Barrett brushed a crumb from the corner of her mouth and she ducked her head in embarrassment. She had never felt so self-conscious about eating in her life.
“What?” he asked, his thumb returning to stroke her lower lip.
Her breath shortened. She tried not to look at him, but her eyes disobeyed, sliding to the right and meeting his liquid brown gaze. She did not breathe at all.
“You’re lovely,” he murmured.
It seemed they were the only two in the room. With all her effort, she managed to look away, pulling her face from his grasp and staring down at the table.
“Sweet Daisy,” he murmured, his voice seductive. “Try this.”
God help her, she had to look.
He had piled a piece of cheese upon
the bread and dipped it in his wine. It was the same food she ate every supper, and yet she had never seen anything so tempting in her life.
She made the mistake of looking his way again, her gaze landing on his mouth. Such sensuous lips. Would he kiss her with them? Her own lip still tingled from his touch. Her mouth watered, though she wasn’t sure if it was for the morsel of food he held or something else. She leaned forward, opening for the bite.
“Good girl,” he praised, popping the food into her mouth.
It tasted delicious, the mixture of the three flavors exploding in her mouth. She chewed, watching him watching her. Strange tingles shot through her body.
One corner of his mouth turned up. “You’re hungry.” It was a statement, rather than a question. It embarrassed her, as if being hungry said something about her character. Mayhap he sensed her appetite went beyond the food. He fed her another bite, brushing crumbs from her lips once she’d taken it on her tongue.
She shifted on his lap, in a curious state of unrest. How did this man have such an effect on her? She hated men. She certainly had never thought about kissing one before.
“Lady Daisy, are you a relative of Princess Susanna?” Prince Erik asked.
Her stomach tightened and she swore Barrett scowled before his expression turned blank. She swallowed her food and turned her attention to the prince. “No, my lord. I was born in Balenhof. Prince Frederick took me in as a lady-in-waiting to his daughter when my castle was sacked eight years ago.”
She shifted again. Sir Barrett had begun stroking her, his large warm palm sliding down the side of her ribs and over her flank, then reversing. Before she could stop herself, she’d made a low humming sound, like a cat purring.
Sir Barrett’s mouth turned up again and she stopped the hum, sitting up straighter. What was wrong with her? Did she actually like being manhandled by this burly knight?