Ragnar - Lord of Jaegar

by Sasha Gold

  “Yes. I will marry you.”

  He smiled. “That’s nice. I like that. So, do they kiss then?”

  “No.” She set her hands on his shoulders. “I don’t think so.”

  His proximity overwhelmed her. She could smell his masculine scent, one she knew perfectly because she stole one of his pillows when he first came to her house. His eyes were intense too, deep blue and even darker in the firelight. His hair, soft, coffee-colored curls that beckoned her fingertips.

  “Okay,” he said. “That changes things around because I’m sure I have them kissing. If he doesn’t get his kiss he’s going to be pretty mad.”

  He shook his head, a regretful expression on his face. She held her breath as he rose and sat on the chesterfield next to her.

  “I had planned a scene in chapter three where they fight, but with this change they’ll be fighting right out of the gate.”

  “They’re not fighting,” Elizabeth argued. “She just doesn’t want to kiss him.”

  He shook his head. “I’m telling you, that’s a fight.”

  Her hand went to her throat and she clutched her pearls. “What happens in chapter three?”

  “He spanks her.”

  Elizabeth waited for him to say something. Anything. “Spanks…her?”

  “You don’t need to worry. She likes his hand on her bottom.”

  Filthy images came to her mind and her skin heated shamefully. She let out a little moan and his brows lifted.

  “Maybe you’d like a hand on your bottom too,” he said.

  Her panic surged. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with Nick but she didn’t want to find out more. Perhaps he’d been drinking. Maybe he’d hit his head. Whatever it was she needed to get away and she scrambled to her feet to escape. Before she could take a step he snared her waist and pulled her down to sit on his lap. She was face-to-face with him, staring into his eyes, stark terror coursing through her veins.

  “This is a marriage of convenience,” she breathed.

  “It is. But that doesn’t mean I can’t do as I please to you. Especially when I’m angry with you. You hide from me and I have to think of ways to lure you into my clutches. I think you like the idea of the heroine getting a spanking. I think you’re a naughty girl.”

  His voice was a seductive growl that unraveled some knot inside her. Warmth threaded along her senses and made her sex tingle with awareness. It was shocking and she wanted him to say more things to her. Things she’d only ever imagined.

  “I would never hurt you, Elizabeth. I only want to protect you.”

  “But…you want to spank me.”

  There had to be something dreadfully wrong with her because the thought made her breasts ache with desire. He was too close. He undermined her defenses and she imagined his hands roaming her body and, God help her, she imagined him spanking her.

  “I can see it in your eyes, Elizabeth. You want things from me. You have from the beginning.” His hands rested on her waist and a seductive smile curved his lips. “I promised not to insist on my marital rights, but I can do a hundred other things to you. How many spanks do you want this evening?”

  “You’re a beast.”

  “You’re just now noticing? How many? Five or ten? I’m being a gentleman and letting you decide.”

  Her gaze drifted to his lips and for the thousandth time she imagined them pressed to hers. “I thought you planned to ask me for an annulment tonight.”

  His expression darkened. “An annulment?”

  She lifted her fingers and moved to touch his lips but her courage failed and instead she skimmed his jaw. It was rough with stubble. He growled at her touch

  “I thought you were leaving me.”

  “You’re stuck with me. I made a vow to you.”

  He lifted her and with a quick turn, draped her over his lap. She shrieked and kicked, trying to twist out of his hold.

  “Hands on the floor, Elizabeth.”

  “You can’t possibly spank me,” she cried.

  Her skirts landed on her back and she yelped. His arm pressed against her back.

  “I’ll let you keep these pretty pantalets on. His hand came down on her bottom and a cry of shock tore from her throat. She kicked and struggled and when she heard him chuckle, she growled with fury.

  Another smack landed on her backside, but this time part of his hand landed on the bare skin of her thigh. It stung and she drew a sharp breath, not so much from the sting but from the arousal dampening her sex. The last smack landed on her other thigh. She moaned softly.

  “You like this, Elizabeth?”

  His tone was casual, amiable.

  “Of course I hate it. What woman wants to be spanked?”

  “I was going to let you keep those pretty pantalets, but I’ve decided I want to keep them. Something to remind me of the first time I put you over my knee.”

  Before she could protest, he yanked her pantalets off, tearing them from her. She let out a trembling breath. Her bottom was bare to him and he stroked it.

  “Just like I always imagined.” He cupped her bottom and squeezed it. “I promised I wouldn’t claim my rights to you, Elizabeth. But that doesn’t mean I won’t torment you so you’ll beg for my attentions.”

  “I won’t,” she spat. “I won’t be just one more of your conquests.”

  He snorted. “You’ll be my final conquest.”

  She was about to make another sharp remark but instead moaned softly as he trailed his fingers along her thighs. Tendrils of arousal spread across her skin and swirled closer and closer to her sex. It wasn’t possible that she could find this pleasurable. It just couldn’t be. Her mind rebelled at the thought and she squeezed her thighs together.

  He lifted his hand and brought it down on her bottom with a blow that made her cry out with both pain and shock.

  “Did I say you could squeeze your legs together?”

  “No sir.” She panted and wondered why she’d added the ‘sir’.

  “Such a good girl.” He nudged her legs apart.

  She could feel his erection pressing against her side and she wriggled against it. That earned her another spank.

  “Teasing me? Again?”

  She panted. “I haven’t teased you.”

  He brought his hand down several more times. The spanking made her grow wet. If he touched her he would feel it and she wished she could squeeze her knees together. He finished her off with four more spanks and then lifted her to his lap.

  Her carefully arranged hair fell around her face and he smiled as he brushed it away.

  He righted her, lifting her by the waist so she straddled his lap. He pushed her hands behind her back and clasped her wrists in one hand.

  She was panting. “You promised we wouldn’t share a marital bed.”

  “Do you see a bed in this room? Tell me what you think happens in Chapter Two. Does he kiss her?”

  Squirming, she felt his erect member press against her sex.

  “Yes,” she blurted. “Yes, they kiss and there’s no more spanking.”

  “Right. No more spanking till later. But then she’ll get her bottom warmed every chapter.”

  She gave a huff of indignation but before she could say anything, he captured her lips with his. A shudder rolled through her. Pure pleasure burned along her veins igniting her senses. His kiss was gentle, but he deepened it and stroked her with his tongue. He growled and she parted her lips. He delved his tongue into her mouth. A tiny thought swirled somewhere in her mind that she should resist him but she couldn’t find the strength or the will.

  He tugged at the ribbons on the front of her dress, and almost immediately his hand cupped her bare breast. The touch of his calloused hand on her breast stunned her. She jerked at his touch, tried to pull away.

  “Elizabeth…” he soothed. “Let me love you just a little.”

  She nodded, melting into his touch and he released her wrists as he laid her back against the cushions. Scattering kisses along h
er neck he caressed her breast with a soft but wicked touch. When he pinched her nipple she flinched.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  His words were considerate but she could hear the smile in his voice.

  “A little,” she grumbled.

  “Then I should kiss it better.”

  She gasped as he pressed her back to the cushions. He lowered to her breast and gently kissed the curve, then her tightly beaded nipple. He sucked and toyed with her, stroking his tongue along the sensitive peak. She writhed beneath him, threading her fingers in his hair.

  A restlessness grew inside her. Her thoughts and fears rolled away from her like waves in the ocean and when he put his hand under her dress she moaned. She was wanton. She was need. She was pure desire.

  All the times she’d imagined kissing him, she never fathomed this. His fingers skimmed the inside of her thigh. “Nick,” she sobbed.

  He returned to kiss her lips just as he stroked her cleft with his fingertips. She jerked in surprise and this time, instead of soothing words, he growled softly at her. All she could think of was his touch. Slowly he teased her and made her need spiral up. He caressed the sensitive bud of nerves, making her twist and dig her fingertips into his shoulder.

  She was near orgasm, but he lightened his touch.

  “Please, Nick.”

  “What?” he asked, his voice deep with desire. “You want me to set you free?”

  “Yes. That’s what I want.”

  He stroked her clit and nipped her neck. She arched and cried out his name as her pleasure spiraled higher and burst. A thousand stars lit along the corners of her mind, darkness gave way to starlight. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her tearing weak cries from her lips. Distantly she was aware of him whispering her name. Telling her she was beautiful.

  Wrapping her in his arms he pressed her against his hard chest as she floated back down to earth. Burying her face against his chest, she clung to him.

  The world spun around her and she closed her eyes, unable to face him. It was too much to take in. The way he touched her filled her with mortification. She was draped across the chesterfield, her dress hiked up without any underthings. Her dress was unlaced. Her breasts displayed for his pleasure. How would she ever look him in the eye after this?

  While she tugged her dress closed and tied the ribbons, he straightened her skirts.

  “Hate to cover those pretty legs,” he said.

  He stood and offered her his hand, helping her off the couch.

  She eyed him warily, noting the look of satisfaction. Did he expect her to offer him pleasure now?

  “I’m not coming to your bed, Nick.”

  “Yes you are. It’s our two month anniversary and I won’t sleep alone tonight. I won’t force love on you, but you’re sleeping next to me. I want to hold you and care for you.”

  He took her hand as they ascended the steps. A maid passed them on the way down.

  “I’ve turned down your bed, sir, and I’ll be back in just a moment to do the same to Mrs. Helm’s bed.”

  “No need. Mrs. Helm is sleeping with me tonight and from now on.”

  The girl smiled, dipped her head and hurried down the stairs.

  Elizabeth pursed her lips and spoke under her breath in case there was another maid nearby. When they stopped at his door she narrowed her eyes. “You are wicked and filthy and not a gentleman.”

  He grinned wolfishly, and reached to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Those, my sweet darling, are my better qualities.”

  He pushed the door open and ushered her in to the room. A fire burned cheerfully in the grate. She remained rooted to the floor as he crossed the room and pulled out one of her night gowns from his armoire. She couldn’t imagine when he’d taken them from her room.

  “There you go, Elizabeth. Get ready for bed. I’ve got to work out the next few chapters.”

  He kissed her on the forehead and went to a desk by the window. A lamp cast light on several stacks of handwritten notes, the warm light reaching to the bed in the far corner, but only dimly. He sat down and began writing.

  She watched him as he worked. He was a cattleman and a businessman, equally accustomed to long days in the saddle and long hours at the auction house, buying and selling livestock and managing the books. But he was also a man of letters. He read voraciously, going through several books a week. When he wasn’t working or fixing the range, he was reading. It was clearly important to him. Still, she’d never imagined him writing a story, any story, and especially something just to please her.

  Something inside her shifted and warmed and she touched her lips with her fingertips. He’d kissed her, sweet kisses that took her breath, but then he’d touched her in wicked and shameful ways.

  She entered the bedroom and picked up her gown from the bed. Glancing over her shoulder she saw that he worked silently, sitting at his desk. She wondered what he wrote. Would he take her ideas to heart? She undressed slowly. He gave her privacy, she noted with gratitude. Not once did he look over his shoulder as she slipped into her gown.

  Letting out a tremulous breath she slipped into the bed and drew the covers over her. She kept to the far edge of the bed, offering up a prayer that he would keep his word. She lay as still as she could so as not to draw his attention. Sleep didn’t come for quite some time. Just as she slipped away, she heard Nick set down his pen and chuckle. Wicked man. She tried to imagine what he was writing but soon gave up and fell asleep.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning she woke alone. At some point in the night she’d felt covers tug against her and had been aware of him getting in, but she’d been too sleepy to notice much more. The next thing she knew it was morning.

  Her thoughts went to the prior night and she blushed. While he’d joked with her and teased her, he’d also regarded her with a gaze lit with a predatory gleam. She was certain he intended to spank and kiss her, and more, when they were alone together.

  Why would he be interested in her? She was shy, awkward and plain. Her mother had been a southern belle. Aunts, uncles, friends and distant relations all commented on the sad fact that she hadn’t inherited any of her mother’s legendary beauty. Her parents hoped and prayed for a son, a prince to inherit their little kingdom. All they got was a daughter. A girl who could scarcely look people in the eye. Everyone treated her like some sort of failure. And that was before she acquired the stutter.

  She needed to avoid him, she determined. Let him find his fun elsewhere. Part of her reveled in his games, but part was terrified. With games like these there was always a winner and a loser. The only way to avoid the pain of losing was to avoid the game altogether.

  Several tasks awaited her, household duties such as paying the staff and making a list of supplies that she needed. She stayed busy during the morning and after lunch she went to the parlor where she had her drawing materials. She worked on the sketch of the roses she’d started a few days before. The deep burgundy reds and shadowed green stems engrossed her so much she didn’t notice Nick coming into the room.

  All morning she’d thought how wicked he was, but when he strolled into the room she felt a rush of pleasure. She had to admit she was crazy for him. She was a foolish, foolish woman but she couldn’t help it.

  He crossed the room and stepped behind her. “I came by when I finished in the back pastures, but you were hard at work. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  He looked at her work and cringed, wishing she could cover her drawing. No one ever called her drawing or painting “work”. All her life people told her it was frivolous. Childish.

  “Beautiful,” he said.

  He stood behind her, just a few inches away from her. Her skin heated with awareness and she wished he’d touch her. A light caress was what she wanted. When she’d thought of him during the morning she’d pushed the thoughts aside, but now her body betrayed her.

  “Thank you,” she said. “My grandmother’s name was Rose.”


  “Ah, the drawing is beautiful too.” He leaned down and kissed her temple.

  She flushed with pleasure. He crossed the room and sat down. “I got a note this morning. It was from your uncle. He seems to think the house is going to belong to him, next week when you turn twenty one.”

  His words were an icy shroud. She disliked her Uncle Thomas and he would be sure to lose his famous temper when he discovered she’d married. Her marriage to Nick would be a rude surprise for the man who was certain he’d acquire her estate.

  “He’ll w-want to know if we have a legitimate marriage.”

  Nick’s lips spread into a smile, and he put his hands behind his head. “Well isn’t that interesting. I could certainly have you at my mercy couldn’t I?”

  “You already do,” she whispered.

  His smile faded. He shook his head. “I’m certain it’s the other way around.”

  “If he comes here he’ll tell you what an embarrassment I am to the family.”

  Nick shook his head. “I won’t let him say that.”

  She took a breath and was about to argue, but stopped when she saw his eyes flash with anger.

  “No one will hurt you, Elizabeth. I will protect you from your uncle or anyone who wants to bother you.”

  Blinking back the tears she tried to tamp down her fear. Thomas’ son had cornered her several times over the years. Robert – how she despised him. He’d pressed her into a corner and done filthy things to her. Groped her. Told her what a dirty slut she was. Three times he’d come after her and run his hands up and down her body, trying to reach under her skirt. Each time she managed to escape before he got his hand under her skirt. Barely. When she tried to tell her father, he refused to believe her, mocking her for what he imagined was wishful thinking.

  It shamed her to think that Nick might hear what her cousin had done. Last night he’d touched her more intimately than Robert had, but while he’d treated her scandalously, he whispered sweet things to her.