"Tell me why you could not remain home." His voice had turned commanding as he took another strip between his fingers and threatened to tug it free. "Now."
Mary wasn't an idiot. Lord Winchester touched her in ways he shouldn't. Like many noblemen, he permitted himself liberties upon women of the lower classes. Mary smiled at the portrait facing her, perhaps the old marquis, Lord Winchester's father. Alexander Townshend could do whatever he pleased with her. It would be a nice memory to keep her going once she left Winchester Castle.
She'd be honest. "My stepfather. My reputation was tarnished and he treated me badly."
Lord Winchester hummed. The sound sent pleasant shivers down her spine. "Knowing my peers, a nobleman forced himself upon you. A pretty young lass like yourself is difficult to resist."
Mary swallowed and breathed deeply before admitting her darkest secret. "There was no force, milord." Behind her, Lord Winchester tensed as if he awaited her answer, the strip of cloth falling forgotten to her side. "I enjoyed it. I wanted to."
A few moments ticked by before he spoke again. "Did he leave you with child?"
Mary smiled again. "No."
"Then why not pretend the entire affair didn't happen?"
"That would be sensible behavior, milord. My stepfather is not the most sensible man."
"I'll say." Lord Winchester chuckled and let his heavy hands fall onto her shoulders, their weight and warmth caressing her. "You enjoyed the man's attentions, you say."
"Yes, milord." Mary bit her lip to keep a giddy laugh in. She knew men, and she knew desire. This man desired her. Perhaps enough to let her sleep in his bed tonight, so she could leave tomorrow with the entire day stretching out ahead of her. "I see no point in denying myself that pleasure."
"And rightly so." Amusement crept into his voice. "I believe you know what I want, Mary."
Mary turned around to look at him. His hands on her shoulders became heavier, stopping her. She cast a glance over her shoulder and had to look up to meet his gaze; Lord Winchester was at least a head taller than she was. Once she did, the naked lust in his eyes made her tremble. He leaned in closer until she felt his warm breath. "The question is: do you see a point in denying yourself this pleasure?"
Was he asking for her permission? Mary licked her lips. "I do not," she said cautiously. "Milord--"
"Face the wall, Mary." The air between them was heavy now. Lord Winchester unwound a long strip of cloth slowly, unhurriedly, one hand passing it to the other in front of her, not touching her, yet close enough for her to feel his warmth. From right to left and left to right went his hands. Mary was transfixed on them, big, strong and callused from riding and handling his sword.
"You entered my army under false pretenses," Lord Winchester murmured in a low, sensual tone. "You spat at your officer. You fought." The last of her bindings fell to the floor and Lord Winchester shifted behind her, a forceful breath escaping him.
"Oh!" Mary gasped when Lord Winchester pressed an open-mouthed, hot kiss to her shoulder.
"Do you agree you must be punished?"
The strange words nevertheless sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. She moaned, quietly. "Yes, milord."
Lord Winchester let out a pleased hum and ran his hands over her upper arms, over her shoulders and back down to her front, cupping her breasts, thumbs toying with her nipples while he kissed Mary's neck and shoulders. Mary's knees trembled under his expert ministrations. She attempted to turn around again, but Lord Winchester had a fierce grip on her and refused to let her. With a shivering sigh, Mary submitted to his will.
Lord Winchester's hands became more greedy, more insistent, his fingers questing to discover every inch of untouched skin. Caught up in the wicked sensations, she only became aware of his intentions when he found the cord holding her hose up and untied it with nimble fingers. Her hose sank to the floor in a puddle, leaving her completely naked.
"Go to the window." It was a harsh order, laced with lust. "Lean forward, with your hands on the sill."
Mary did as he said. Her position allowed her a vantage view of the courtyard where her fellow soldiers trained. Sir John was once again atop his horse. No one spared a look for Lord Winchester's study window, but if they cared to look, they would see her. "Milord, this--"
"This is suitable punishment, don't you think?" Lord Winchester leaned over her to whisper in her ear and smoothed his rough, large hands over her back. "No need for concern. They won't know the difference between cries of pleasure and cries of pain."
"But they will see me," Mary protested. Truthfully, her protest was given in more by a sense of propriety than by embarrassment. "They'll see--"
"I suppose that's a risk."
A laugh in his voice dulled the edges of his cavalier words. It was a game, not punishment. Lord Winchester's palms slid down over her stomach, coming to rest on her hips. He pulled her back, her bottom against his crotch. His erection strained against his hose. Mary squirmed. His constant caresses had ignited a familiar fire inside her belly. She glanced over her shoulder again. He was calm, poised, but something in the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes told her his desire was as great or even greater than hers. She imagined how she must look in his eyes, how she must have looked when she'd taken off her tunic. She knew what kind of effect her body had on men; she'd experienced it firsthand. Lord Winchester was more composed than most, and for the first time Mary thought that perhaps she was out of her depth here.
He caught her gaze with his darker one and gave her a sensual, slightly crooked smile. "Are you ready, Mary?"
Mary shivered at the promise of pleasure in his eyes. "Yes, milord."
She nearly moaned at losing his warmth behind her. She expected him to rid himself of his hose and return to her, but he fetched the cat-o'-nine-tails and went to stand at an arm's length behind her. Mary's eyes widened. Surely he would not go through with her flogging now?
When the leather strips struck her flesh, she was startled that such a gentle stroke could bring such a stinging pain. Lord Winchester struck her bottom twice, three times, before caressing her with the dangling strips. It gave Mary time to regain her bearings and assess herself. A certain amount of pain stung her ass, but it didn't bother her. The sheer sinfulness of his actions aroused her. She imagined the red welts on her buttocks and moaned.
"More, Mary?" When she merely moaned again, Lord Winchester struck her bottom again, harder this time. "You will answer me, my dear."
"Yes, milord." She lifted her face to stare out the window. Nobody looked their way. Mary felt a wicked urge to draw attention. "More. Harder."
Behind her, fabric rustled. Seconds later, the leather slapped against her flesh hard. Mary let out a sound that was a cross between a whimper and a wail. Lord Winchester answered with a deep growl. "Open your legs, Mary."
Mary was a quick study. She moved her feet apart and kept her eyes on her former mates. "Yes, milord."
Lord Winchester caressed the inside of her thighs with the cat-o'-nine-tails, rubbing it against her wet core and then trailing wetness over her skin. He struck once, twice, thrice in quick succession. Mary arched her back and groaned, loud and drawn-out. She could not help herself. The burning pain mingled with pleasure in her belly to create a scorching ball of heat that built and built, with no escape. When he struck again, one strip of leather whipped up against her core.
Not caring who heard her now, Mary screamed in pain mixed with pleasure. She jerked her hips and dug her nails into the stone window sill. She expected the next blow to land, but it didn't come. Instead, she felt the gentle tickle of the leather straps on the inside of her thighs, further up over her buttocks, over the welts there, and lower again, between her legs. Lord Winchester took his time rubbing it against her clit in a maddening slow motion. Mary bucked and mewled, her body on fire. Surely Lord Winchester would have mercy on her and take her now. No man had ever resisted his desire this long.
Lord Winchester gave a quick tug of
his hand. A bolt of heat shot through Mary's body. Her legs trembled; she was so close. She arched her back, in search for physical contact. "Milord..."
There was no answer, just soft taps of a sturdy leather knob to the skin of her thighs. Mary's insides throbbed and clenched in need of release. "Milord, please."
The taps inched ever upward, and suddenly it was between her legs, rubbing through her folds, probing at her entrance, penetrating her. She felt herself give way to it easily and had to stop herself from pushing back. Lord Winchester moved it in short, slow strokes, barely inside her and driving her insane. The sinful things this man did to her. Mary threw her head back and moaned with such abandon that surely her compatriots had heard. The cat-o'-nine-tails dropped to the floor, both sides slick with her juices.
Lord Winchester's arm went around her waist and he pulled her tight against his chest. She felt his hard cock against her lower back and tried to squirm, to incite him to take her. "That is quite enough, Mary," Lord Winchester muttered with a laugh coloring his voice. "Are you intent on alerting your superiors to what I am doing to you?"
Mary turned her head back and up to meet his gaze. "I didn't choose this spot."
Lord Winchester cupped her breasts in his large, slightly rough hands, warm against her cool skin. He leaned in and kissed her, hot and greedy, leaving Mary stunned. He merely grinned. "Your denial is grounds for more punishment, my dear."
How much more of this could she take? Her thighs were wet with her desire, surely he'd noticed that. Yet the prospect was thrilling. "Yes, milord."
She turned back to place her hands on the sill again, but Lord Winchester guided her to the sofa where he sat down. Mary waited for a signal or a gesture while he drank her naked body in. Mary was pleasing to the eye; she knew that. She struck a pose that would entice him to take her. Lord Winchester's erect cock strained against his hose, but he made no attempt to have her straddle him, or even untie his garment. It stood to reason. He'd mentioned more punishment. For a second Mary considered kneeling in front of him and please him with her mouth, but she refrained from it. He'd let her know if he wanted such things from her.
"Come here, Mary." Lord Winchester patted his lap and extended his hand for her to take. When she did, he pulled her closer until she stood so close to him that she felt his breath on her breasts. She shivered. His voice lowered to a sensual whisper. "I'll have you over my lap now for your remaining punishment."
Mary's knees felt like pudding. She cast her eyes down at his lap and then back up to meet his gaze. "Milord?"
"Now, Mary."
Bending forward, she lowered herself until she lay over Lord Winchester's lap with her buttocks up in the air. His cock prodded at her side and she had to fight the urge to take it in her hand and stroke it through his hose. The position was highly embarrassing. Mary screwed her eyes shut and attempted not to think about it. Lord Winchester would take her soon, and if the size of his member was any indication, she'd be fully satisfied before the sun went down.
Lord Winchester's large hand landed on Mary's bottom with a soft smack. This was not her punishment yet, she knew that much. He smoothed his palm over her buttocks, cupping her curves, softly and slowly, making her shiver. He shifted to support her chest with his arm and slid his hand between her legs, separating them. Brushing his knuckles over her core, he made a soft humming sound.
"Do you enjoy this, Mary?"
Mary considered her answer. His stroking made it difficult to form a coherent thought, but the embarrassing position overrode it. "No, Milord."
He laughed and slipped a long, thick finger inside her. "I can feel that you're lying." Lord Winchester rubbed back and forth through her folds, at his leisure. "Try again."
She swallowed. "The position is degrading, milord."
He pulled his finger out of her and ran a wet trail over her buttocks. A resounding smack made Mary jerk and gasp with shock and pain. Her ass stung, more so than her pride when she felt a gush of wetness inside her, coating her inner walls. It was unexpected. Her insides throbbed in a silent plea for a cock to fill her. She remembered the feeling well. There was nothing like it. Lord Winchester removed his arm from under her chest. "Support yourself with your arms."
Mary did as he said. The reason became apparent when he fondled her breasts with his now free hand. Another loud smack filled the air. Mary arched her back, pushing her breasts into Lord Winchester's hand. A third smack, hard and sharp, and simultaneously he pinched her nipple.
"Ah!" Mary wailed and jerked. Heat coiled in her belly. She needed something inside her, now. "Milord, please."
"You'll take it, Mary." His calm voice was infuriating. "You will take it, and you will enjoy it. Should I gauge your enjoyment again?"
Mary squirmed and moaned. "Oh, yes. Please."
The next time he slapped her ass, his fingers delved deep into her folds. "Do you enjoy this, Mary?"
He applied pressure to a spot that made her legs jerk and her inner muscles clench. "Please. More."
"That is not an answer," Lord Winchester concluded and smacked her bottom again. "You look pretty, love." Mary could merely whimper. Her tormenter took it as encouragement. "Your bottom is lovely and red. Do you enjoy this, Mary?"
She opened her legs wider in an invitation. "Please, milord. Please."
He did not yield that easily. Holding his fingers still at her entrance, he chuckled as she writhed in an attempt to take them in. He took one of her wrists in his free hand and guided it to place her hand on his cock. "I do enjoy this, Mary. Do you?"
Mary squeezed his member desperately. Perhaps she could make him lose control of himself. He grunted and bucked his pelvis up. Mary had to grasp his leg to avoid sliding off his lap. "Why do you keep asking?"
"Because I want to hear you say it."
Implied in his words was that he would not cave until she said it. "I do enjoy this, milord."
Lord Winchester let out a harsh breath. "Finally, woman."
He slapped her again, once, twice, thrice. Between slaps, he caressed and tickled her bottom, driving her insane. Mary squirmed more with every smack. Distantly, she heard lascivious moaning, and she knew it was her. Her belly was a furnace and she felt moisture seeping down her thighs. When Lord Winchester slipped two digits inside her core and pushed them as far as they would go, Mary came flailing and shrieking, her arms no longer able to support her weight.
When the fluttering of her inner muscles had died down, Mary raised herself up and looked over her shoulder, finding herself face to face with a smirking nobleman.
"That ought to have alerted your former comrades," he said, his smirk widening when he caught side of her reddening cheeks. "You leave me little choice, soldier."
What did he mean? Even if she could form a rational thought, there was no time to think. She attempted to catch her breath while he pushed gently at her bottom, guiding her to kneel on the sofa on all fours. He rose and stood behind her, feet on the ground, one hand on her hips, while his other worked to untie his hose. Once free, his thick cock slipped through her folds, tiny bolts of lightning shooting through her. Tracing imaginary patterns on her skin with his thumb, he reached around her to find her clit. It only took his expert fingers a few strokes to reignite her arousal.
With a smooth, slow stroke and a carnal groan, he seated himself inside her firmly. Mary let out a long moan as her body adjusted to his girth and length. None of the other men had ever filled her so completely. She pushed her pelvis back, grinding against him. Lord Winchester grunted and whacked her ass with the back of his hand. "Patience, Mary."
A tremble traveled through his mighty body. When he seemed certain he had regained control of himself, he pulled out of her and slammed back, her high-pitched shriek punctuated by Lord Winchester's low, rumbling growl. She hung onto the sofa's armrest as he thrust again and again, impaling her on his cock further every time, her moisture slicking his movements. She rested her burning cheek on her arm, letting its cooln
ess assuage her fever. The sting in her rump, exacerbated by the slaps of his pelvis against her bottom, blended with her arousal until Mary couldn't form another coherent thought.
Her climax began to build in her core and spread through her belly, her limbs and further up until she saw stars. She muttered his name on a rising note and used her grip on the arm rest to push herself back against him. He leaned forward to hold her in place with strong hands at her waist, then he jerked once, twice and came with a mighty roar. She felt his hot load spurt inside of her before they both fell to the sofa, boneless, limbs entangled.
After a long moment, Mary made a conscious effort to calm her breaths and assess her situation. Lord Winchester was twirling a lock of her hair around his fingers, seemingly in no hurry to rise. Mary felt pleasantly sore, with legs that would not support her. Yet, she was at his mercy now.
She didn't have to wait long for him to speak. "What do you know about serving a nobleman, Mary?" He laughed briefly. "In a household, not in his bed."
Mary bit her lip and weighed her words. As long as she didn't know his intentions, honesty was the most prudent path. "Nothing, milord."
He patted her hip, his pats turning into a sensual caress within moments. "You will soon. Bind your breasts and report to Masterson. He'll show you your chamber and livery."
"But..."
"You seek protection and anonymity. I can offer both."
Protection and anonymity, and a place in his bed, if she interpreted his lustful caresses correctly. Mary shivered at the thought. A better offer was impossible. "But Sir John," Mary said. "What will he think? He'll expect you to send me--"
"My station allows me to do as I please," Lord Winchester said with a wicked grin. "And there are few things that would please me more."
Mary smiled at the ceiling. Lord Winchester's cock stirred against her hip. Shelter, a new identity and a voracious lover. No woman had ever received a better proposition as punishment for a capital offense.
A Spank in Time Page 3