His by Law

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His by Law Page 2

by Sue Lyndon


  “Tell me, Lucia, how old are you?”

  “Nineteen, sir.”

  “You’ve been living on the streets since your uncle’s passing?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Each time she said sir, a zing of desire made his cock harden and pulse. He pictured her naked and kneeling at his feet, looking up at him with an imploring gaze as he scolded her for disobeying one of his rules. Tears of remorse would be glistening in her eyes, just as they were now, and she would be trembling with a mixture of fear and desire.

  After a proper scolding, he would take her over his knee and give her a sound spanking, not stopping until her behind glowed bright red. Afterwards, he would force her bottom cheeks apart and claim her most secret hole, fucking her in the ass as the final act in her punishment. His blood heated the longer he stared at her, his mind conjuring all sorts of naughty scenarios.

  He tapped his chin and began pacing in front of her. Still, she did not move from her place near the fire.

  “Lucia, I assume you don’t have any suitors?”

  She blushed furiously and shook her head. “Madame Angelic has half the village thinking I’m a witch and the other half thinking I’m a murderer. Says I killed the two women who were found in the creek this past summer.”

  Jackson chuckled to himself. Madame Angelic was tenacious when she set her mind upon a specific girl. He returned his gaze to Lucia and felt a tenderness for the girl that had his breaths coming shallow and fast.

  “Wouldn’t working for Madame Angelic be preferable to living on the streets?”

  Her eyes widened and she appeared aghast at his suggestion. “I’m a good girl, sir.”

  That little admission—confirmation of her innocence—firmed his cock and he once again pictured her naked and kneeling at his feet, this time with her lips parted as she looked nervously at his cock, knowing she had no choice but to take him in her mouth like a good, obedient wife.

  If she were his wife…Lucia would be his to train, his to corrupt. He doubted her pride would allow her to accept his offer outright, and he wasn’t much for sounding romantic as he proposed marriage, so he decided to force her into accepting his offer.

  “Lucia, you trespassed into my house. If I called the constable, you would be taken away, probably whipped in the village square, and locked up until Madame Angelic came to your aid.”

  Her face crumpled and she shook her head, and then she did something that made a little piece of his heart break off and attach itself to her. She took a deep breath and lowered herself to the floor, kneeling at his feet and bowing her head in a beautiful display of submission.

  “Please, sir, have mercy. I confess I trespassed into your house, and I stole a little food from your kitchen, and I stayed a while to sit by your fire, but I sincerely meant you no harm. I am so sorry, sir, and I beg your forgiveness and ask for your leniency.”

  He had her right where he wanted her. God, he was the worst kind of bastard, but he wasn’t going to stop.

  “I will show you mercy and not call for the constable, Lucia, but I have a few conditions.”

  Her head bobbed up and down, reminding him of how she might look while sucking his cock, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Anything, sir, just please do not turn me over to the constable.”

  He circled her then, walking around her while she remained on the floor. He sensed her nervousness and it thrilled him, but at the same time he wished to end her misery. Confused by the tender emotion bubbling beneath his dark needs, he came to stand before her again. Reaching out, he put a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  “You will become my wife, Lucia, and you will submit to me in every way. I realize you are a virgin, but I will teach you all you need to know, and I expect you to be a most obedient pupil, or you will be punished.” He gave her a dark smile. “A good wife submits to her husband, Lucia. Do you think you could be a good wife?”

  She nodded. “I would be obedient to you, sir.” Her surprised expression changed to one of confusion. “But, sir, you do not even know me, and I don’t know anything about you, either. Are you honestly suggesting we marry?”

  “I know enough about you,” he said, a hard edge to his voice, “and you will come to know me after we are wed. Surely marriage to a stranger is better than the alternative? Would you rather spread your legs to twenty different men a day while you work off your debt to Madame Angelic? Or would you rather submit to and spread your legs for one man, a man who has taken you as his wife?”

  She blinked and moisture glittered on her eyelashes, and a second later the tears trickled down her cheeks. Before he realized what he was doing, he had smoothed the wetness from her face with a gentle touch, rubbing the moisture away with his thumbs.

  “Wh-what exactly would you require of me, if I were to accept your proposal?”

  He clenched his jaw, frustrated that she hadn’t accepted his offer yet. It was a generous alternative to a public whipping, imprisonment, and years of forced prostitution. And wasn’t it better than her current situation—living alone on the streets? As he stared into the endless depths of her blue gaze, he realized with a start that he wouldn’t be able to call the constable if she refused him. But she didn’t know his threat was an empty one, and so he kept his face hard.

  He cleared his throat and gave her another dark smile. “My dear Lucia, I would expect you to be a proper wife. You would keep house, and once I manage to acquire new servants, you will manage the household to the best of your abilities. I’ll expect you to plan dinner parties, and I have quite a few coming up with the holiday season approaching. I run the distillery on Broad Street and often entertain traders from other villages, as well as the local politicians and business owners.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You’re Jackson McNabe?”

  “Yes.” He withdrew his hand from her face and crossed his arms, aiming to appear especially severe. He wanted her to say ‘yes’ now and hoped he didn’t have to issue further threats to convince her, though he would if she refused him. The thought of scaring her further didn’t sit well with him though, and his increasingly tender feelings for the girl heightened his frustration.

  “Enough talk. The hour is late. Will you or will you not accept my proposal?” When she hesitated, he found himself saying, “Though I’m an exacting man, I would not be cruel to you, Lucia. Your happiness would be important to me and though I will have many rules for you, rules you will undoubtedly break from time to time, I will administer punishments with care and with the intention of teaching you a lesson and helping you grow.”

  Had he really just said that? She looked so lost and confused, all he wanted to do was help her and guide her. Of course, guidance would involve punishment when she erred or disobeyed him, but he wanted to protect this frightened young woman more than anything he’d ever wanted. He wanted to be her rescuer, the one who saved her from a wretched life on the seedy side of the village, a life of misery and violence. The spankings he’d convinced the brothel ladies to submit to had left him feeling empty, and while he’d thought it was their ridiculous giggles and unconvincing playacting, he had recently begun to realize it was because none of it had been real.

  Sweet Lucia was still kneeling at his feet. So real. So lovely.

  “I need your answer,” he said, his voice cracking in a way that made him sound desperate. But God, he felt desperate. Before her appearance in his sitting room, he had fallen asleep contemplating where the hell to find a wife whose father would agree to let them marry. Lucia didn’t have a father, or any male relative, to lawfully give his blessing. Jackson could wed her at once without interference from anyone.

  “I-I accept your offer, sir.” She blinked up at him, the glow of the fire highlighting streaks of auburn in her otherwise golden hair. Her eyes softened and she graced him with a gentle smile that shone bright through her ever present nervousness. “Thank you for showing me mercy, and I promise I will strive to be a proper
wife.”

  If he hadn’t stopped himself in time, he would have breathed a sigh of relief. Instead, he found himself holding his breath and then expelling it slowly, as to not allow her to realize just how frightened he’d been of her refusal. What would he have done then? Sent her back to the streets where she wouldn’t last another week in the wretched cold? The instant she’d turned around and her gaze had collided with his, he had become invested in her desperate plight and felt an enormous weight of responsibility for the pretty little stranger.

  He tilted her chin up once again and as he stepped closer to her, his cock became painfully aware of its proximity to her sweet mouth, lurching upward to strain against his pants. He released her chin and stroked her hair, bringing her cheek to rest against his thigh as he petted her. Gasping breaths left her, revealing her fear of what would happen next. Poor thing probably thought she was about to be mauled. God knew it was only through sheer self-control that he kept from ripping her tattered dress off.

  “Tomorrow morning we will visit the priest, and you will become my wife, Lucia. Mine by law.”

  Chapter Three

  Lucia relaxed in the water, moaning at the exquisite delight of heat surrounding her and easing the soreness from her muscles. She had been thrilled when Mr. McNabe escorted her to a bathroom within a large bedroom that had running water. Most homes weren’t so luxurious and she had never partaken in a bath that didn’t involve heating lots of water and carrying it, heavy pail by heavy pail, to a wooden tub so small she couldn’t even stretch her legs out in it.

  She dunked her head under the water and applied soap liberally, washing her hair for the first time in months. Using a hard sponge, she scrubbed the dirt from her body and hoped Mr. McNabe found her pleasing when he looked upon her afterwards. She hadn’t realized how dirty she had been until she stared into the bathroom mirror.

  Candles flickered on a small table next to the sink, bathing the room in a comforting yellow glow. The lavender soap filled her senses and relaxed her further, the warm chicken soup he’d fed her before her bath still felt warm in her tummy, and she contemplated her turn of fortune.

  At least she hoped it was a turn of fortune.

  Hadn’t she been daydreaming about living in this very house? Hadn’t she imagined she was Mr. McNabe’s wife while she admired his sleeping form in the sitting room?

  Hadn’t she wished upon an ornament to have someone special to share Christmas with this year?

  Perhaps God had heard her wishes and taken them as unspoken prayers, then deemed to answer them. She prayed often, usually for the strength to keep surviving on the streets and to eventually find safe shelter. She also prayed the innkeeper on Miller Street wouldn’t start believing the rumors about her and dismiss her, thus taking away her daily meal and chance at survival without being forced to steal.

  Of course, Mr. McNabe’s talk of obedience and punishment didn’t stray far from her mind. She realized most husbands chastised their wives from time to time, and even though she suspected her parents tried to hide it from her and her siblings, she had heard her mother getting her bottom smacked now and again. If it was such a common occurrence, why had Mr. McNabe brought it up, then?

  The door creaked open, startling her from her thoughts. She sank into the water in a show of modesty; they weren’t married yet. Mr. McNabe strode in like he owned the place, which of course he did. Tomorrow morning he would own her as well. He’d said as much downstairs, and the prospect seemed to excite him. Though an innocent, she knew enough to recognize when desire flared in a man’s eyes. She had lived on the streets long enough to have been the recipient of crude gestures and even cruder propositions. Except Mr. McNabe didn’t strike her as crude, and though she felt shy in front of him, she still didn’t wish for him to leave. At least not until he spoke his next words.

  “Stand up, Lucia, and I will rinse you off.” He placed a folded shirt on a chair and came to her side. He openly stared at her naked breasts bobbing up from the water.

  She flushed and covered herself, only for him to swat her hands away.

  “You will never hide your body from me, Lucia. Now stand up.” He gave her a pointed look as he reached for a hose connected to the tub. After pulling the drain, he twisted some knobs on the tub until water poured from the short hose. “If I must ask you to stand up again, I will add to the punishment I already plan to give you tonight.”

  She drew in a surprised breath and hesitantly rose to her feet. Rivulets of soapy water cascaded down her body, and she stood with her head bowed, unable to meet his eyes. She wanted to cry and ask why he planned to punish her tonight, but she dared not argue. At least not while she remained naked. She had agreed to marry him and hadn’t disobeyed him since trespassing into his house. Unless he planned to punish her for just that—trespassing.

  Worry curled around her heart and butterflies flittered in her stomach. She remained still while he rinsed her off, careful to keep her hands at her sides and not cover herself, even though she longed to shield herself from his penetrating gaze. His eyes roved over her body in a rough caress that left goosebumps covering her skin. As she peered down at the water, she caught sight of her nipples hardening to stiff peaks and blushed harder than she’d ever blushed before. Surely he had noticed. What must he think of her now?

  “Spread your thighs so I can rinse you thoroughly, Lucia.”

  With a sigh that came out louder than she intended, she moved her legs apart, giving him access to her most private area. The warm water trickled down her stomach and over her mons, and he moved the hose around to rinse her bottom off next.

  “Very good girl.”

  She melted under the note of praise in his voice even as she flushed hotter.

  He assisted her in stepping from the tub and wrapped her in a fluffy towel. The air seemed to tense and he stepped back to gaze down at her. “I will give you a few minutes to collect yourself and put the shirt on. After you’re finished, come out into the bedroom.”

  “But, sir, we aren’t married yet.”

  His eyes gleamed dark in the candlelight, and he suddenly seemed larger, his muscles bunching beneath his tailored dress shirt. “I will wait until we’ve spoken our wedding vows to bed you, Lucia, but I do intend to punish you before you go to bed. You did trespass in my home.”

  “But, sir, please…” The stern look he leveled on her made her choke up with nervousness.

  “If you cooperate, Lucia, it will be a light punishment.” He turned and left the bathroom, closing the door on his way out. “Five minutes!” he called from the other side.

  She gulped in air and moved the shirt from the chair so she could sit down. Her throat burned and she blinked fast to dispel her tears, wanting to face him bravely. Though he’d promised to make it a light punishment if she cooperated, she still knew it would hurt both her bottom and her pride. The idea of being bent over and spanked, or perhaps guided across his knee to take her punishment, left her face burning as her shame grew.

  Not wanting to make him impatient, even though he’d given her five minutes, she hurried to dry off and donned the oversized shirt.

  A comb rested next to the sink, and she picked it up and detangled her hair, wincing with each stroke through her twisted locks. Finally, her hair became smooth and she imagined once it dried she would look like a new person.

  Thanks to the bath, she already felt like a new person, and the clean shirt could’ve been a coronation gown for how beautiful a simple clean garment made her feel. The tattered, filthy dress she’d been wearing remained crumpled on the floor. She hoped she didn’t have to wear it to visit the priest in the morning, but she supposed she couldn’t walk down the street wearing nothing but one of Mr. McNabe’s shirts either.

  After giving herself one last glance in the mirror, she eyed the door and took a tentative step toward it. Her husband-to-be, and a stranger no less, intended to punish her for her misdeeds of trespassing and stealing food. She tried to feel remorseful
but couldn’t manage it. Her crimes had led to her sudden engagement to one of the wealthiest and handsomest men in the village. Ever the romantic, she clung to the hope that their marriage might become a happy one.

  Before she lost her nerve, she buttoned the shirt and strode out of the bathroom. Her mouth went dry at the sight that greeted her.

  Mr. McNabe stood next to the bed rolling his sleeves up, revealing his powerful forearms. One look at him and her legs turned to jelly. The air crackled with tension and somehow she managed a few steps in his direction. At least he didn’t appear angry. His face wasn’t red and he wasn’t screaming at her. She took comfort in that fact and succeeded in closing the space between them.

  She lifted her chin and met his eyes, so dark and unfathomable. “I’m ready, sir, fo-for my pu-punishment.”

  Amusement glinted in his gaze. “Are you, now?”

  She lifted her chin higher, not sure what had gotten into her. Perhaps she simply wished to get this unpleasantness over with as soon as possible. Her bottom tingled in anticipation of his chastising hand. “Yes, sir.”

  “Very well,” he said, unfastening his belt buckle and drawing the thick length of leather from around his waist.

  She regarded the implement with horror and her heart plummeted. He had said he would go easy on her. A belt whipping seemed harsh, but she didn’t dare voice her opinion. With an air of dominance, he sank down on the bed and placed the belt behind him.

  A lantern burned on the bedside table, and another lantern blazed atop a dresser across the room. For the sake of her modesty and growing shame, she wished it were darker even though he’d already seen her naked.

  “Lift your shirt up and place yourself over my lap, Lucia.”

  She obeyed, drawing the shirt up and shuffling to his side. With his assistance, she laid herself over his strong thighs. Her stomach at once came into contact with his hardened manhood, and she gave a start and tried to stand up, but he was quick to rearrange her with one of his legs draped over hers as he hoisted her higher up on one knee.

 

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