by Jane Henry
“Come, Svali,’ he orders. My mouth dry, I get to my feet and go to him. When I am close enough for him to grab, he takes my wrist and pulls me, standing, between his knees, one finger going to my chin, making sure I maintain eye contact.
“Why am I punishing you, Svali?”
I swallow. “Because I disobeyed you, my lord.” Heat threads through my core, inexplicable arousal somehow mingling with dread.
He pulls me farther between his knees, the warmth of his legs warming me straight through my tunic. “You did. Lie over my lap, please.”
The words cause my stomach to do a somersault. His lap is broad and muscled, and when I lie over it, I will be vulnerable. But I must obey.
Gingerly, I lower myself, his knees under my chest, my feet coming straight off the floor. The touch of his strong, calloused hand on the naked skin at the top of my thigh causes me to gasp. How can I face punishment yet be so aroused? I fear the dampness between my thighs will glisten upon my naked skin, betraying me? My cheeks burn with shame.
“Lie still,” he commands, his deep voice carrying through the quiet of the room as he slowly, so slowly, lifts the edge of my tunic.
“I planned on strapping you,” he says. “But now that the time has come, I no longer wish to do so. I sense your repentance. Tonight, I will use my hand, and, over time, you will come to accept my authority over you.” At the mention of his belt, my thighs clench together, and I can picture him, standing there, removing his belt to punish me. I swallow the lump in my throat.
“You will not put yourself in danger, Svali.” That is all the warning I get before he smacks my naked skin. I gasp but do not cry out, the pain bearable. A second smack follows the first, then a third. “You will do as you are told, woman, and not risk the safety of you or anyone else under my watch.” Another sharp spank at the crease of my thighs has me gritting my teeth, my eyes now blurred with unshed tears. He spanks me in earnest now, one hard swat after another across my naked backside and upper thighs. I squirm, but his hand wraps around my waist, anchoring me to him. “You must always do as you are told,” he says. “I cannot risk you coming to harm if you disobey me. And you pledged this to me, pledged your obedience at our union. I will see that you remember that always.”
“Yes, my lord.” Whereas, before, I would not admit defeat or weakness, with this position over his lap, his strong palm falling in earnest, I am stripped of what holds me back. I feel small and vulnerable. A lump rises in my throat. “I am sorry.”
He does not lessen the punishing snap of his palm, and my hand flies back, an impulsive and futile attempt to block him. He grasps my wrist, pulling it against the small of my back as if he stands in solidarity with me facing my punishment. The gesture is surprisingly tender for someone who is punishing me, and tears begin to fall. I lose track of how long the punishment lasts, but my skin is on fire, heated and burning beneath each slap of his palm.
“I know you are, lovely. Will you do your best to obey me?”
“Yes, my lord.” I sniff, swiping at my eyes with my free hand. His palm rests on my stinging skin, soothing now, rubbing in circles on my punished bottom. It feels nice, this touch, intimate. I squirm, as his tender touch arouses me.
He spreads my legs. I squeeze my thighs together, but a sharp swat reminds me to obey. My eyes closed tight, I allow him to open my legs and explore my folds, slick and damp with arousal, my need so apparent it embarrasses me.
“Stay still,” he commands, dragging his finger through my slit. My hips buck, but he continues fondling me until my need is frenzied, my mind blind to anything but this man’s possessive touch.
“My lord,” I gasp.
“Come for me, Svali,” he says. “Let yourself go.”
And at his word, I shatter, a tidal wave of pleasure engulfing my body as I writhe on his lap, and moaning as he draws pleasure from me. I focus solely on the carnal pleasure he wrings from my being. Finally, I crest the peak of pleasure and settle down, thankful I am still facedown over his lap, as I need the support of his thighs beneath my belly and hand about my waist, or I’d drop to the floor.
“Very good,” he says, soothing now, lifting me onto his lap. He rises with me like that and turns toward the bed, gently lowering me. “Rest now, lovely.” I do not protest as he removes my tunic and bares me, tucking the covers over me. “I have much to tend to but will join you soon. Rest now, and you stay right here until I come back.”
The pillow is soft, the blankets warm, the night’s events exhausting. I wish for him to join me, but, for now, I will welcome slumber.
CHAPTER NINE
Idan
I wonder if she will sleep well after what she has experienced tonight. The ignominy at Aldric’s home, the terror of the assault, being punished by my hand and then brought to ecstasy… One of those alone would cause a lesser woman to crumple.
But not Svali.
I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her sleep. Hands tucked under the pillow. Her soft hair loosened from the tie she wore is now splayed upon the pillow. Her face is soft and worry-free, like a child’s, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes closed in slumber. Her shoulder rises and falls as she rests. It seems she is not disturbed by the evening’s happenings, but rather welcomes her rest.
Good. She will need it.
The days ahead, now that trouble lies about us, will be trying. The servant’s accident with the hot tea, as well as the attack on the road, concern me. Looking down at my sleeping wife, I tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear, sudden tenderness surprising me. I cannot allow myself to grow soft, as I rise in command here.
When I took her across my knee, I did so with reluctance, though I did not show it. Yes, she put herself in danger. Yes, she disobeyed me. However, she did so out of an instinct to protect me, not out of deliberate defiance or foolishness. Thus, my punishment, though serious, was meant to remind her of her obedience, and I could not punish her more severely. I tuck the blanket around her lovely body, desire stirring within me. Though I punished her, I could not help but be aroused by her over my lap — her naked skin reddening with the slap of my palm, her squirms, followed by her moans of pleasure.
I lean down and kiss her smooth forehead before rising, and, as I walk to the door, I halt mid-step.
Is what Aldric foretold happening? Am I binding to her, even now? She does not hold magic in her, and I will remain the steadfast duke to Avalere.
I go to leave the room.
“When will you be back, my lord?”
Her voice startles me. I thought she was asleep.
“After I have seen to the servants and land,” I say. “It shall not be long before I will join you again. There are guards at both doors and windows, Svali, and you will be safe. Why not rest?”
“I was, but I woke when you walked away,” she says, her eyes still closed. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Then back to sleep with you,” I order.
Her lips turn down, her eyes growing sad.
Is the binding Aldric spoke of happening to her as well?
I turn the handle and enter the hallway, clicking the latch closed behind me. “Watch this door carefully,” I tell the two armed guards. “We were taken unawares on the journey home, and several were killed in the attack, still others sent to prison.”
“Yes, my lord,” they chorus.
“My wife needs supervision and protection.” Not only do I wish for bandits to be held at bay, but she must also be kept under watch. She is lovely, but I do not trust her. The guards nod their consent, and I go on my way.
Servants who will attend my wife stand nearby, ready to do my bidding or Svali’s, whenever the need arises. I make my way down the long, dark hall, now accustomed to its length and dimensions, as I determine to memorize the layout of the palace. I check the locks on the doors to the exits and enter the garden. It is dark now, the moons still bright in the sky, casting a warm white glow upon the barren garden and land. Quiet surrounds us. There are no stirr
ings within the woods or grounds, though two guards stand sentry, weapons at the ready. I walk to them, but they do not move. My instincts on high alert, my hand goes to my sword.
When I am but several paces away, the guards turn to me, one tall and dark haired, the other taller and fairer.
“As you were.” I let go of the sword hilt. “Is all calm this evening?”
“Yes, my lord,” the shorter one says. “Not a sound anywhere.”
“Very good.” I bid them good evening and take my leave to walk about the gardens. Nothing seems awry, and the glow of the moons cast a suitable light for me to see my way. A shooting star catches my attention, the white glow lighting the night sky like sparks from a fire. I blink, watching it glow then fade, and the foolish prophecy I heard earlier comes to mind.
The second throne of Avalere brings with it great strife, when two moons become one as the lord takes a wife.
I gaze at the two moons and I shake my head, heading into the castle to seek my rest. I dislike thoughts of prophecies, and binding, and things I cannot control. Tomorrow, things will be clearer.
⊱⟢⋯⟣⊰
When the early morning light creeps through the window, the first sign of dawn, I stir, turn, and reach for my wife, but she is not there. I pat the bed next to me. The bedclothes, still warm from her body, lie askew. I start, sitting up in bed. Where has she gone? She may not leave my room without leave. My instincts are immediately on guard, as I assess the situation. How could I have not heard her leave? Was she taken? Harmed? I would have heard a skirmish. Did she escape, then? If she left my protection and once again put herself at risk, I will see to it she never makes that mistake again. The spanking I gave her last night will be but a pleasant memory.
But as I sit up in bed to dress, she enters the room, dressed in a clean white tunic, her normally golden-brown tresses darker from bathing. Her entrancing violet eyes meet mine as she dries her hair with a towel.
“Well, good morning,” she says, approaching the bed. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
I blink. Do I?
“What has come over you, my lord?” she asks as she finishes drying her hair.
“Come here, please.” I remind myself my fears for her safety were those of a trained warrior, but unfounded. She is fine.
She frowns but sits on the edge of the bed near me.
“Svali, you are welcome to bathe as often as you’d like—”
“I should hope so!”
I frown and allow her small show of temper to pass.
“You are not, however, to dress yourself. That is my job as your lord and master.”
Her brows furrow.
She draws a comb through her hair, stands, and walks to the dressing table in the corner of the room, before sitting down to fix her hair. I sense a good deal of defiance still about her.
“Svali, come back here.”
She scowls at me. “Yes?”
My temper rises. “Now.”
With a sigh, she returns to me.
“Join me in bed, wife. First, you will undress.”
Her eyes widen, and a muscle ticks in her jaw. She obeys, walking slowly to the other side of the bed, her gaze fixed on me. She lifts the edge of her tunic, baring her beautiful body to me, and lifts the tunic over her head.
“Very good,” I say, my voice thick with desire. She climbs under the covers, and I pull her close to me, my hands roaming her naked body, pausing at the swell of her breasts. I hold her to me with my right arm and grasp her nipples between my fingers. She wiggles to try to escape, but I stop her. “You will allow me to touch you as I see fit.”
“Yes, my lord,” she mutters, her jaw clenched. I lower my mouth to her breast and flick my tongue along the place I just pinched, aiming to bring her both pleasure and pain, as my hand travels between her legs and gently urges them to open.
“My lord,” she whispers. I push further, my fingers probing her swollen folds, as my mouth continues to lap at her peaked nipple.
“You will do as I say, Svali.” I pinch her inner thigh, marking her reaction. “If you do not, I will spank you. Do you want to be punished?” I emphasize my words with a small slap to the sensitive skin between her legs.
She gasps but then writhes, squirming under my hand, her hips jerking. I bring my mouth to her ear. “Shall I take you across my knee?”
She pants now, her breath brushing my cheek as I tease her with my fingers and whisper to her, “Do you wish me to tie you to my bed and strap you, my belt marking your naked skin?”
“Noooo,” she moans. “My lord!” But, though she protests, her body tells me she yearns to feel the pleasure-pain.
I freeze. She is at my mercy.
Exactly where I want her.
“Do you lie, Svali? The thought of being tied up and strapped does not excite you?” I draw my finger once again through her slick, swollen folds. “Even a little?”
Her eyes close tight as she writhes. “No, no, nooo.”
I pull away from her, and reach for her hair, tugging her head back. “We shall see about that.”
I do not know what has come over me, but I must see how she responds to my touch. Everything about her seems to yearn for my strength and power over her. I rise, and stand but when I hear her shift behind me, I spin on my heel, pointing one finger at her. “You. Stay. There.”
She does not move, as I go about the room, looking for what I could use. Next to the hearth lies a silken cord used to tie her folded clothing together when it was brought to our room. It is thick but will yield. Perfect. I pick it up and wrap it around my hand, returning to the bed.
“On all fours,” I order. “Knees down, chest down. Arch your back up to me.” She flips over and obeys. Her knees hit the bed, her chest goes down, arms flat out in front of her. I approach, placing my hand on her lower back, and slap her upper thigh. She yelps and squirms, but stays in the position I’ve put her. “Wait here.”
I go to the bedside table and remove my dagger, using it to slice the binding in two before I approach her again. I slip one beneath her feet, wrap it around her ankles and tie it, snug enough she cannot move, but not so tight it will be uncomfortable. I move to the head of the bed, and wrap the second around her wrists, the same way I bound her ankles. She pants, watching me over her shoulder with curiosity, dread, and desire. Her tongue slides over her pink lips. My cock hardens, tenting in my trousers. She is the very picture of beauty. I run my hand along her naked back, trailing down her spine and to the soft, sweet small of her back. I bend down and kiss her there, that vulnerable, feminine place. My beard scratches against her naked skin before I lick where I scratched. Her breath hitches.
I stand behind her, my hands on her rounded hips, kissing her naked skin, nipping along the way, leaving bright pink marks with my teeth. My head swims with arousal, and I wish no more than to please her, to bring her to ecstasy. I long to see her squirming beneath me, screaming with pleasure until her voice goes hoarse.
“Do not move,” I remind her, releasing her hips and walking to where my sword belt lies. I pick it up, the metal buckle clinking. From where I stand, I can see her tremble. I tuck the buckle in my palm, wrapping it to fashion a strap, and approach her again.
“Do you lie to me, Svali?” I place one hand on her back and hold the other ready to strike.
“No, my lord!”
I bring the belt whizzing through the air, not harsh but firmly, the tail end of leather slapping her. Her breath catches, and a small, C-shaped pink mark from the edge of the belt rises on her creamy skin. I did not strike hard enough to welt. I do not aim to punish. I gently trace the mark, and her back arches.
She likes this.
Another measured, careful but stinging lash falls, then another, and another, until her backside is as red as a ripe berry, skin hot to the touch. I lower my mouth to her spanked backside and kiss her, my whiskers grazing the soft, supple skin. I can smell the arousal on her, hot and sweet, and when I touch her
between her legs, she is wet for me, my fingers gliding through her folds.
“Do you like this, little girl?” I whisper, tugging her hair. “Tell the truth, or the smack of leather on your skin will intensify. Do you like this?”
Her eyes close, head tilted to the side, her soft hair falling in waves over my hand. “Yes.” She nods. “I do not know why or how or what I wish for you to do to me. I just know that somehow, I…I need more.”
Wordlessly, I untie her ankles and wrists, massaging the places they were knotted, before I pull her off the bed. The breath whooshes out of her. I spin her around and shove her belly-down against the edge of the bed, grab a fistful of her hair, and pull her head back. “Do you want me in you, lovely?”
“Yes,” she pants. “Yes, please.”
I remove my breeches, and she wriggles, but my hand slaps against her naked skin. “You stay there,” I growl. She obeys, her mouth open, head back as I plunge into her, my cock swelling inside her as I lean her over the bed.
“You wish to be fucked?”
Her head bobs up and down. “Please. Please take me.”
I thrust, holding onto her hips, slapping her bottom to accentuate my possession of her, a reminder for her to obey even now.
“My lord,” she whispers, her body trembling beneath me.
“Come, Svali,” I order with a tug of her hair. She climaxes, her body tensing and pulsing as I chase my own release, the pinnacle of pleasure reaching a fevered pitch as she screams in ecstasy. I lower my body onto hers. My heartbeat begins to return to normal.
“Do you still dislike the loss of control, wife?” I ask with a raised brow. “You do not like when I master your body?”
Her eyelids lower and she looks at me coyly from beneath them. She does not respond, but a slow smile spreads across her face. Her cheeks are flushed.
“I…I don’t know,” she falters. “I will not deny it is exciting being with you.”
It is enough of an admission.
I like the feel of her against me like this. I have much to learn about this woman. What was her upbringing like? How will she respond to my desire to have children? Will she submit herself to my leadership? What does she like? What does she do well? What does she fear?