by Delta James
She shook her head. “No and, even if you make me, I’ll gut you the first chance I get.”
Choosing to ignore her, he said, “Ye’ll do nothing of the sort. You either behave, or your first spanking may be with an audience.”
ELIZABETH
* * *
Who was this asshole? Why did she find it difficult to breathe when he was so near? She recognized him as the dark one from the trial, but she’d never had such a visceral reaction to a man. The feeling of his hand gently squeezing her bottom sent jolts of arousal into her nether regions. She’d have rubbed her legs together to ease the ache if he hadn’t managed to get one of his thighs between her own.
His thigh was hard and bespoke of power, as did the hard length that was confined by his trousers. When he moved his hands across her breast, it was all she could do to keep her knees from buckling. She wondered if he had any idea how much she longed to feel him stroke every inch of her body, inside and out.
Gavan MacLean was a tall, heavily muscled man who looked like he’d be more at home in a military uniform than in chaps, boots, and a hat. Black hair, mostly clean shaven, dark eyes, and a voice that could melt molasses. His accent and bearing combined to have her all but melting against him.
Although still a virgin, Elizabeth had more than a passing knowledge of sex. Indians were far more open about the physical aspects of married life, and the men in her gang had often had their sweethearts, or prostitutes, up to their camp. She’d seen more than one man’s cock slip between a woman’s thighs, seen her arch her back and cry out in ecstasy. Often, Elizabeth had pretended to be asleep, but had rubbed and tugged at her nipples and the little bundle of nerves at the apex of her legs, never quite achieving that ultimate satisfaction.
MacLean had strong hands, she wondered what it might be like to have his hands on her body in place of hers. Would she finally obtain that goal? Would she hear him grunt and groan as he worked his body between her thighs before spending himself in her? Would something as large as the member she felt lodged between them fit deep inside her?
Her bad luck had started as a child and had continued almost non-stop, resulting in her being captured by that toad of a sheriff, the man who had suggested she whore herself for him. She’d sooner have bitten his cock off than sucked it, and the very idea made her want to vomit. But sucking the hard length pressed against her? That might be a different story altogether. She’d seen one of the prostitutes doing that, and the man involved had been groaning in ecstasy. But a cock up her bottom hole? No way.
The sheriff had thrown her into jail. She’d waited for her men to come to her rescue, but they never had. Like everyone else in her life, they had abandoned her. If she was going to be saved, she’d have to do it, herself.
She’d been made to suffer through that farce of a trial. Why had they bothered? Everyone had known what the outcome would be. The whole town pitied her, but not enough to help when it might have made a difference.
“Ye don’t really have a choice, lass,” he said, gently stroking down her spine and giving her bottom a lingering caress as he backed off. “The judge cares about ye and doesn’t want to see ye hanged.”
“Really?” she snapped, his physical separation breaking her reverie. “Where was he when my folks were killed? When I was thrown into the orphanage? Or how about when I got tossed out and the only work I was offered was on my back with my legs spread? And, now, I’m supposed to spread them for you to ease his conscience and your lust? Oh, fuck no.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath, willing herself not to break down. Rarely in her life had she felt in control, but she would control how she faced the end of her life, and this tall, rugged cowboy who made her legs tremble, pulse quicken, and breathing shallow was not going to take that away from her.
“Lizzie, are ye telling me ye will not take yer vows?”
“You’re not too bright, are you, asshole? Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. I won’t do it, and you and your buddies can’t do one damn thing about it. I hope my death is as awful as you describe and you see it every time you close your eyes.”
“Count yerself lucky, Lizzie, that I didna have soap and water to wash yer mouth out with. I’m giving ye one last chance to give me yer word ye’ll behave and say ‘I do’ when the judge asks ye.”
“Or what?” she said, trying to put as much distance between them as the small cell would allow. “You’ll paw me some more?”
“Nay, lass. I didna paw you. I gave you a taste of being pleasured by yer husband, and ye liked it. My guess is the place between yer legs is nice and wet. We’ll make sure it stays that way so as to ease the loss of yer virginity.”
“Pleasure? You disgust me.”
“Lizzie,” he reprimanded, “ye’ll nae lie to Caelan, nor me. Before I take yer maidenhead, ye’ll have come for us and be begging for my cock. And, when I’m through, Caelan will take ye, as well, and you’ll be well-loved. Ye’ll wake each morning snuggled up to a hard cock that’ll see to your needs. Ye’ll never want in that area. Real men, good men, provide for their wives in all ways. A wife who enjoys the marriage bed makes for a better wife. It is up to her husbands to see that she does.”
Something in his words woke feelings she’d long thought dead. Her mind, her soul, and her nethers felt as though a whirlwind swirled inside and all around her. The air around her was charged like it was when a twister was in the offing. Goosebumps raised all along her skin, but not from the cold.
“Bullshit! You don’t believe that any more than I do.”
Gavan shook his head again, unbuttoned the cuffs on his shirt sleeves, and began to roll them up, revealing strong, tanned arms covered with black hair. She was transfixed; she couldn’t look away. He pulled a gold pocket watch out of his trousers and checked the time.
“I guess we’d better get on with this. I’ll nay indulge yer temper. Yer going to learn from the get-go just who calls the shots and who gets her bottom spanked.”
Elizabeth picked up the empty bucket in the corner of the cell and swung it at him, only barely missing him.
“You come near me, and I’ll scream,” she threatened.
Gavan chuckled. “I suspect ye will. Most lasses caterwaul something awful when their getting their hide tanned. I mean to put a sting in your tail that will last a day or two.”
She was trying to circle around him, but misjudged how quickly he could move.
He was a big man but moved with the power and grace of a large, lethal wildcat. He closed the distance between them, seizing her hair in his fist as she tried to dart past him. Gavan used her inertia to swing her back toward the little cot where he took a seat, stripped her pants and bloomers down to her knees and tipped her over his hard thigh, using the other to trap her legs between his.
The air was cool on her exposed backside, but the place between her legs was hotter than a blacksmith’s forge. The idea of that man having his hands on her bare skin made her catch her breath; the buds of her breasts beaded, and her core begin to pulse in a way it never had before. She prayed he wouldn’t be able to tell how desperately she wanted him to make the ache and the fear go away.
Elizabeth found herself summarily upended in a position misbehaving women had been finding themselves since the beginning of time, although, it was a first for her. She wriggled in an attempt to get away but failed.
Before she could do more than that, Gavan’s strong hand pinned her down while the other collided with her naked flesh.
Elizabeth yowled from the intensity of the pain that radiated across her backside.
Gavan began to spank her, rhythmically, and with a great deal of strength. She could not believe he, or anyone else for that matter, was doing this to her. Gavan covered her backside with blow after stinging blow.
Elizabeth bit her lip to try to keep from crying. She was determined this brute would not get the better of her. The worst part was that all those lovely, tingly butterflies in her belly that erupted each time he was ne
ar took flight. She feared that, even worse than the physical pain from the spanking, was the very real possibility that the honey that now pooled in her most feminine place would begin to leak and drip down onto his leg. Her mortification from her arousal was far worse than the pain he was inflicting on her backside.
His hand landed targeted swats to her behind before working its way down to the juncture of her bottom and her legs. Gavan delivered several well-aimed smacks to that sensitive spot, which produced a howl in response before he continued down and punished the backs of her thighs as well.
“You bastard!” she wailed.
“Nay, lass, that’s not the way to convince yer husband he’s gotten through to ye and ye mean to behave.”
All she wanted was for him to stop. She needed him to stop. It hurt. And, if he didn’t stop soon, he might notice the effect his spanking was having on her. She was not unaware of the parts of a man’s body and how they reacted when they wanted a woman. She could feel his erection building beneath her. It felt far larger than any she had caught a glimpse of over the years. It seemed to pound in the same rhythm as the hand that was blistering her arse.
Elizabeth thought a man’s member was a fearsome thing when aroused, large and hard and jutting out from his body, the veining in stark relief to the stretched and taught skin. But she also found them fascinating. Sometimes at night, when she could hear her men fucking, she wondered what it might be like to touch one, what it would be like to be mounted and have it thrust in and out. What was it like to be possessed by a man and have him stroke her private sheath with his engorged staff? Did her longing mean she was the whore the sheriff had sought to make her? Had he, somehow, sensed the wantonness of her thoughts? And what of the man who was inflicting blow after blow on her delicate backside; could he sense the desire that raged within her?
Gavan’s spanking hurt, but there was something that felt right about being face down over his knee, his hand smacking her ass at the same tempo as his cock throbbed beneath her. Elizabeth was so confused; how could it hurt so much and still have the power to arouse and entice her? His powerful arm kept her pinned in place as his hand descended over and over, landing repeated blows to her backside.
She wriggled on his lap, not certain if it was to get away, or to get him to do something she didn’t completely understand. She wailed in pain and outrage, but Gavan continued to deliver the spanking he seemed determined to inflict.
“I hate you. I’m going to kill you, asshole; fuck you!”
“Ye’ll do no such thing, lass, at least, not the killing part. The fucking part ye’ll be doing a lot of. Yer going to have to learn to behave.”
He punctuated each word with a hard swat to her behind, which she was quite sure was red and swollen.
“I’m not going to be your wife, you motherfucker.”
“Nay, lass, ye’ll be whatever I tell ye that ye are, and I say ye will be my wife and will learn to mind.”
Her ass was absolutely on fire; it hurt, and Gavan seemed in no hurry to stop. Repeatedly, he struck her bottom. She lost control and began to wail in desperation. She twisted and turned but could not get away from him. He held her in place sprawled over his lap and calmly lectured her on her language while he continued to wallop her behind. Once the tears had started, they quickly devolved into great heaving sobs.
“Please, stop. Stop! Please! I’ll do what you want. Just don’t hit me anymore.”
Gavan’s hand came down lightly and rested on her sore buttocks before he began rubbing soothing circles over her heated flesh. Part of her wanted nothing more than to get away from him, but a growing part wanted to embrace the comfort he was offering. His hand continued to caress her.
She moaned and swore she heard him softly chuckle. One of his hands rubbed the small of her back and stroked her spine. He used the other, the one that had so easily brought her to tears, to trail down from her punished globes to between her legs.
“Spread yer legs for me, lass,” he crooned.
“No,” she whispered, never wanting, or fearing, anything more in her life.
He swatted her backside. “You didna tell me no, Lizzie. Now, do as yer told, and let me offer ye a little comfort and pleasure.”
Gavan nudged her upper thighs, and she parted them. He slipped his hand between her legs and explored the warmth he found there. Elizabeth mewled in quiet protest, but his answering growl silenced and soothed her almost immediately.
“Good girl. Ye best get used to the feeling of yer man’s hands on yer body. Yer a beautiful woman, Lizzie. Ye will be well and truly loved.”
He reached further between her legs and found her swollen nub. His fingers surrounded it, tugging gently.
Elizabeth gasped as a jolt of pure awakening shot through her system. She had pleasured herself in the past, but it had never felt like this. She could feel her channel pulsing with a life force she had never felt. The more he focused his attention on that bit of bundled nerves, the more erratic and labored her breathing became.
Elizabeth felt a wave of warmth rise up from the nerve center he was manipulating. It rose from the actual spot Gavan fondled, to her belly and on up to her swollen nipples. The tremors of pleasure intensified as she neared the edge of completion that had always frightened her. She tried to pull back from the brink of the unknown… the unknown that had always frightened her and yet had beckoned her. Gavan intensified the stimulation he was providing. Elizabeth realized she would be unable to stop herself from tumbling over the edge into that abyss of feeling and desire. Clasping his leg, Elizabeth let go of the last remnants of her control and screamed in hedonistic, and unfamiliar, abandon.
As she slipped over the edge, a groundswell of pure pleasure washed over her. She surrendered to the sensation and felt as though her spirit had separated from her body and was set free. The surge that enveloped her was powerful and resulted in an enormous feeling of bliss that caused her to almost black out.
“There, now, isn’t that better?” he asked, gently stroking her from the little nub to the entrance to her core. “The sheriff and his wife are going to witness our vows and the judge will perform the ceremony. Do ye think ye can be a good girl and behave?”
She nodded. She didn’t want to comply but, more than that, she wanted to hear him call her a good girl as he soothed her heated globes.
“All right, then, we’ll be done with it,” his leg released hers, and he helped her to her feet, tugging up her undergarments and bringing her to sit on his lap.
He withdrew a white linen handkerchief from his pocket and used it to dry her tears. Elizabeth couldn’t remember a time anyone had cared enough to do that. He hugged her briefly before allowing her to get up then pressed a chaste kiss to her temple.
“It’ll be all right, Lizzie, ye’ll see.”
As if on cue, the sheriff, his wife, and the judge joined them.
Gavan took her hand in his, and they faced the judge.
The judge began to speak about marriage and its promises and duties.
Elizabeth found herself focusing on anything other than what was being said until he asked Gavan to take his vows.
“I, Gavan MacLean, take thee, Elizabeth Morgan, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold …”
Then, she tuned him out as well.
The judge turned to her, as did the eyes of all the others crowded into her small cell.
“Do you,” intoned the judge, “Elizabeth Morgan, take Gavan MacLean to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and obey until death do you part and according to God’s holy ordinance?”
Elizabeth could feel their eyes boring holes into her soul. Would it be so wrong to just let them hang her and be done with it? What did she know about this man, other that his hands could deliver pain and pleasure in equal measure?
“Lizzie, ye need to say I do,” Gavan prompted her.
She sa
id nothing, trying to see if there was any way out, any way to escape. A hard swat to her rump jolted her from her internal musings.
“Shit! That hurts,” she snarled at Gavan.
“Aye, lass, it was supposed to. Now, ye either take yer vows, or I’ll put ye back over my knee and ye’ll take them as I paddle yer backside to an even deeper shade of red. Now, Lizzie,” he growled.
“Why? Why do you want to marry me?”
“Because yer the most important thing to me. This is the only way to keep ye alive. Ye needn’t fear, lass, ye’ll be well cared for,” Gavan said, keeping his voice even.
“Like you took care of me when you beat my ass?” she hissed. “Like when you took liberties with me before we were wed?”
“That’s enough, Lizzie. I warned ye if ye didn’t agree to behave and agree to take yer vows, I’d spank ye, which is what I did. All I did after that was to offer ye a little comfort, which ye seemed to greatly enjoy. Now, ye either say ‘I do,’ or I’ll put ye back over my knee, and ye’ll answer properly in short order.”
“I’m waiting for your answer, Elizabeth,” said the judge.
She scanned the faces of those who surrounded her; there was no sympathy there. Gavan’s grip on her arm reminded her there was no escape. Delaying the inevitable would do nothing more than get her spanked again. But her chance of escape would present itself, and she’d be ready.
“As I seem to have no choice, I do,” she said, bitterly.
Gavan placed a simple silver wedding band with an intricate design and three gemstones on her finger before placing a simple band with the same design on his own.
“Then, by the powers vested in me, I pronounce you man and wife,” said the judge. “Try to be happy, Elizabeth, I believe this man cares for you.”
Elizabeth snorted. “What you believe is that you won’t have to feel guilty for killing the daughter of your dead best friend, the daughter who you never once lifted so much as a finger to help.”