by Sue Lyndon
“If you continue to struggle, Lucia, I will use the belt. If you’re a good girl and submit to this punishment, I will only use my hand on you. It’s your choice. A hand spanking or a belt whipping, what will it be?”
“Oh please, sir. Please just use your hand. I’ll be good.” She wondered about his excitement and hoped he kept his word about not claiming her until their vows were spoken. Perhaps it was silly of her to care about being taken one day early, but she had been raised to believe a woman must be a virgin on her wedding night or she was no better than a whore destined for hellfire and damnation.
“I promised not to touch you before our wedding, Lucia,” he said as if reading her mind, “and I give you my word as a gentlemen that I will keep that promise. I only intend to punish you now.”
He cupped her bottom and she grasped at the bedcovers, needing something to hold onto. How much would it hurt? Would she be able to hold back her tears? Before she could worry further, he lifted his hand and brought it down upon her right cheek with a resounding smack. The blow smarted and he next struck her left one, continuing on and alternating strikes between her stinging bottom cheeks.
A few especially hard slaps drew a gasp from her, but she managed to refrain from struggling.
“Stealing is wrong, Lucia,” he scolded, pausing to rub her backside. “As is sneaking into someone’s house while they are sleeping. I understand you were desperate and the end result is our impending marriage, but I will not start our marriage off without impressing upon you the importance of good behavior.” He gave her five more swats and then sat her upright on his lap.
Relief filled her that the spanking had ended before the tears prickling in her eyes had fallen. She blinked twice and they vanished, then she peered shyly into Mr. McGabe’s no-nonsense visage. “Thank you, sir, for being gentle and…not using the belt.”
Shudders assailed her body and she glanced at the thick leather length behind him. She hoped to never experience the sting of it.
A ghost of a smile danced across his face, smoothing out his frown lines for one brief moment. Their gazes tangled and she thought he meant to kiss her, but instead he lifted her off his lap, drew back the covers, and tucked her in bed.
“Good night, Lucia,” he said, picking up his belt.
“Good night, sir.”
He made to leave the room but turned around halfway out and strode to her side. The intensity in his stare startled her, and she feared he’d changed his mind about whipping her. But to her relief and her pleasure, he leaned down and placed a quick kiss to her forehead before departing the room. She heard the turning of a key in a lock but somehow wasn’t surprised, nor did she mind. His locking her in didn’t make her feel like a prisoner. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, Jackson McNabe wanted to keep her.
She drifted to sleep, shaken and confused, all the while trying to reconcile the tingling heat that quickened in her nether region.
Chapter Four
Jackson awoke early and visited a seamstress for a premade dress. The selection was sparse but he settled on a purple gown, the smallest one available to suit his petite bride. He also bought matching slippers, frilly undergarments, and a fur-lined cloak.
Before he returned home, he made a side trip to his associate Mr. Harris’ residence and requested the use of two servants, which he promised to pay handsomely until he secured a new staff. Upon hearing of Jackson’s impending nuptials, Mr. Harris agreed and offered his most efficient servants.
Jackson suspected the news of his marriage would quell the ridiculous rumors about him and in a few short days he would have a new staff.
After arriving home, he gave the borrowed servant girls their orders, then ventured upstairs to locate his bride. With the packages tucked under his arm, he unlocked the door quietly so as not to wake Lucia. The sun had just begun to rise and he expected her to still be sleeping. But he froze at the sight he found upon entering her room.
An expression of pure bliss covered her face, her eyes were closed tight, and beneath the sheets her hand roved around in a steady pattern.
The packages fell from beneath his arm and he slammed the door.
Her shriek pierced the air and she dove under the covers. Naughty, so naughty.
“Lucia,” he snapped, “come out from there. It’s too late. I already saw what you were doing.”
Two large eyes appeared over the edge of a blanket.
His impatience rising, he ripped the covers off her, revealing her naked from the waist down. The shirt he’d lent her was bunched around her center, and between her spread thighs the telltale evidence of her arousal glistened. Her light wavy hair spilled over her shoulders and fell across her face when she bowed her head.
“Don’t bother closing your legs, Lucia. I’ve seen everything and you have been a naughty, naughty girl.”
Her chin popped up and she regarded him with wide, fearful eyes. “But how have I been naughty? You never told me this was against the rules!”
He’d been about to unbuckle his belt, but his hands paused mid-air. The little trespasser had a point. He ran a hand through his hair and turned around for a moment, gathering his senses.
She belonged to him, or she would in an hour once they spoke their vows, and it was his right to discipline her. But he also wanted to show her fairness. Normally, he didn’t care if a woman thought him a brute. The rumors about her being a witch might as well be true, for the girl had bewitched him and caused him to experience all kinds of foreign emotions in the hours since they’d met, namely tenderness. It had to be those damn beautiful deep blue eyes of hers.
The sudden urge to hug her, to wrap his arms around her and press her head to his chest, rose up and left him feeling shaken. Good God, what the hell was she doing to him? He turned to meet her gaze.
The shirt covered her now, and she sat upright on the bed with her hands folded in her lap, her legs pressed together and resting straight in front of her. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but a stern look from him had her clamping her lips together.
A blush tinged her cheeks with pink. Her embarrassment at being caught touching herself sent all his blood rushing to his cock. He throbbed for her, but they had to visit the priest first. Had she been one of Madame Angelic’s girls, he wouldn’t have thought twice about tumbling her on the bed, but Lucia was to be his wife.
He retrieved the packages from the floor and tossed them on the bed. “Get dressed and meet me in the sitting room. Do not keep me waiting.”
*
Lucia finally belonged to Jackson by law.
He guided her through the streets and toward his home. They hadn’t said much to each other since he’d caught her touching herself, other than speaking their vows, of course. Her constant fidgeting as they walked betrayed her nervousness. She kept tucking her hair behind her ears and fiddling with the lace trimming the sleeves of her dress.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked after she shivered.
“Yes, sir, thank you. For the clothing and slippers, that is. They’re quite lovely.”
“Tomorrow you will visit the seamstress and she will begin making you a new wardrobe. You have an appointment at eleven o’clock.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you again, sir. You are most kind.”
“Furthermore, while I appreciate you addressing me with respect, in public you must call me by my given name.”
Finally, she met his eyes for the first time since he’d given her an awkward kiss in front of the priest.
“Say my name, Lucia.”
“Jackson.” She spoke his name in a breathy whisper that tightened his cock. With a glance and one word, she had him ready to consummate their marriage on the spot.
Of course, he planned to take his time with her no matter how fiercely he ached to plunge into the sweetness between her thighs. Before he claimed her, he wanted her wet and begging to be fucked hard. “Jackson, please, I need you now,” he imagined she would say, and they reached his home not a moment
too soon.
He opened the door and caught her before she stepped inside. Sweeping her up in his arms, he strode into the house and kicked the door shut, not once taking his eyes off hers. The silly custom of carrying a bride over the threshold had stood for over a thousand years, or so he’d read once, and as a youth he had often fantasized about doing so. Her mouth parted and she started wriggling around in his embrace as he carried her upstairs, his intention obvious to both Lucia and the maid dusting the bannister who suddenly made herself scarce.
“It’s not night yet, Jackson!”
Ignoring her protest, he brought her into his bedroom and closed the door. He placed her atop the covers and reached to unbutton his dress shirt. She peered up at him in shock.
“Shouldn’t we wait until this evening? It’s broad daylight. Don’t you think it’s improper for us to…” She seemed to lose her train of thought when he opened his shirt and slipped it from his shoulders. Naked from the waist up, he stalked toward her and caught her hand.
He threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed. “You belong to me now, Lucia, and I intend for us to consummate this marriage at once. Keep protesting and you’ll find yourself bottom up over my knee. Do you want another spanking?”
She paled and shook her head. “No-no, sir.”
He smiled at her encouragingly and sank down next to her, his hands at once going to the top button on her gown. “I want you to be my good girl, Lucia, and do as I say. You’re my wife now, and this is one of your wifely duties.”
“But why? I mean, why am I your wife?” She appeared hesitant, as if she wished to ask him an important question but feared the answer. “You’re handsome and wealthy, and I don’t understand why you aren’t married already. I should have asked you this last night, but I was too excited and surprised by your proposal that I didn’t think things through entirely.”
His face tightened and he reared back. “Are you saying you regret marrying me already, Lucia? Because if so, I’m afraid it’s too late.” He went back to working on her buttons but paused when she next spoke.
“You’ve given me no reason to regret marrying you, Jackson, but I still know little about you, save your name and your profession. Are you widowed, perhaps? Is that why you’re alone in this huge house?”
Alone in this huge house. Her words made something inside him shift violently, and he ripped her dress open the rest of the way. Tiny purple buttons flew through the air and scattered on the floor. He urged her to her feet and finished removing her dress, forcing her slippers and stockings off too. Her chemise and underthings came next, and soon she stood naked and trembling before him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking harder. “I didn’t mean to upset you. How long ago did your wife die?”
“Lucia, I am not a widower.” Sighing, he pushed her back until her legs hit the bed and she sank down atop the covers. He attempted to rein in his self-control with a series of slow, deep breaths. Though he didn’t mind a slightly reluctant bride he didn’t wish for her to be quaking with fear or outright struggling to stop him from bedding her. “I’m sorry if I frightened you just now. The truth is, I’m also a victim of the madame’s rumors, or more precisely the girls she employs.”
“How so?”
To his relief, he saw no hint of judgment on her face. He cleared his throat and took her hands in his. “I enjoy a rougher brand of lovemaking, Lucia, one I will soon introduce you to. But the girls in Madame Angelic’s employ did not satisfy my desires, and I moved on from girl to girl, causing a bit of jealousy amongst them. At first the rumors around town painted me as a pervert, but then they became much darker. Most of the town believes I’m a brutal sadist who gets his kicks by beating girls bloody. It’s not easy to find a wife when the whole village believes you’re demented, even if you have a great deal of wealth. I had thought I would need to venture to Marystown to court a woman there, but you fell into my lap so perfectly,” he said, stroking her hair, “and now here we are.”
“Here we are,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling. “Is any of it true?”
Was it? He thought back to all his exchanges with the madame’s girls. He’d spanked them, tied them up, and dominated them in all manner of ways. But he didn’t derive extreme pleasure from their pain or actively seek to inflict harm. Their squeals and cries of distress thrilled him to some extent, but the pain they experienced at his hand while he spanked or whipped was incidental. Instead, he sought to control them, to dominate them and teach them. The need for his experiences to be real, to be shared with a woman he either cared about or was bound to by law, had ruined his sessions with the girls. Pity it had taken him so long to figure the problem out. Finally, he answered Lucia.
“I’m as much a sadist as you are a witch, I suppose.” He stared at her for a long moment, carefully choosing his next words. “I will never hurt you for the sake of hurting you, Lucia. You’re my wife and I will treasure you, but I will also insist upon your obedience. There may be times when I push your limits, but you will learn to trust me. I suspect you will also like some of the activities I enjoy. Tell me, why were you touching yourself this morning?”
“I wasn’t!”
He stood her up and swatted her bottom twice, hard. She gasped and jumped in place, and he landed a final third slap to the crease where her backside met her thighs. “You will not lie to your husband, Lucia.” He spun her to face him. “Why were you touching yourself? What had you so excited? Tell me what you were thinking about, and don’t you dare tell another lie.”
“The spanking you gave me!” she wailed, covering her face with her hands.
He grinned, having suspected as much. She’d been flushed and unsettled when he’d tucked her in, but he hadn’t thought she would actually touch herself or he would’ve ordered her to keep her hands above the covers all night. The air of innocence surrounding her had fooled him, and he pried her hands from her face and forced her chin up and her eyes to his.
“Was that the first time you’d ever touched yourself, Lucia?”
“Yes, sir.”
He trailed his fingers over her mons, finding it slick and swollen. Cupping her pussy, he drew her closer and gave her a stern look. “Your body belongs to me now, including this part of you.” He gave her privates a squeeze. “If I catch you debasing yourself again, touching yourself without permission, I will bend you over the bed and apply my belt to your bottom. A wife’s pleasure belongs to her husband. Do you understand?”
She gave a vigorous nod. “Oh yes, sir, I understand.”
“Good. Now sit against the pillows and spread your legs wide. I intend to inspect what’s mine.”
Chapter Five
“So pretty. So pink.” Jackson pressed a finger into her tightness and Lucia summoned every ounce of self-control to keep from clamping her legs shut. “Ah, and so wet.”
She closed her eyes and her hips jerked upward of their own accord when he brushed another finger atop her most sensitive spot, the small bud that had been bothering her this morning.
Unable to stop thinking of the spanking, she had begun aching below her waist, and after exploring herself for a short spell had discovered rubbing the small tight nubbin had given her a blast of erotic sensation. Her nipples had hardened, just as she felt them hardening now, and she had become short of breath as she spiraled closer and closer to what promised to be something wondrously climatic…before he’d interrupted her.
She glanced down to see his thumb working over her bud, circling the throbbing bit of flesh as he penetrated her with another finger, sliding in and out of her increasingly wet center. Time slowed as Jackson kissed his way down her neck to her stomach, not once pausing in his ministrations. She felt afire, burning with a fierceness she didn’t know was possible.
Her inhibitions fled and she parted her thighs wider to give him better access to her intimate parts.
He moved up to kiss her mouth, and she parted her lips and moaned against him as he took command,
sliding his tongue in to tangle with hers. The masculine scent of him tantalized her. She couldn’t get enough of him, and she wantonly rubbed her pussy against his probing hand, seeking to ride the waves of pleasure to the very end. When he withdrew from her center and stopped kissing her, she gave a needy moan and sat up on her elbows, watching to see what he did next.
Just as he stood and began unfastening his belt, shouts followed by a loud banging noise drifted up from below.
Jackson turned to look at the door as if he expected someone to break through. His ever present frown lines deepened and he snatched his shirt off the floor, thrusting his arms in the sleeves as he strode to the window to peer out.
“What’s going on?” Lucia asked, wondering if she too should be getting dressed. She sat up with her legs pressed firmly together and drew the sheets up to her chest.
“I have no idea, but I intend to send whoever the hell has come calling away.”
“Jackson McNabe!” a voice bellowed upstairs.
“Jesus Christ,” Jackson muttered as he finished buttoning his shirt up. “That sounds like the fucking constable. That looks like his carriage too.”
“The constable?” Her blood ran cold. What on Earth would the constable want with her new husband? Once again she was reminded that she didn’t know Jackson well at all.
“Bloody hell.” He straightened his collar and gave her a dark look. “During your time on the streets have you committed any crimes I should know about? Have you been picking pockets or stealing otherwise?”
“No!” She felt wounded by his accusation and tears sprang to her eyes. “I told you I’m a good girl and I meant it. Sneaking into your house was the one and only time I’ve done wrong.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “All right, Lucia. Don’t cry. I believe you, and I’m sorry I had to ask. Stay here while I go see what’s going on. Perhaps something has happened at the distillery.”
He departed the room and locked the door behind him, for which she was grateful. A ball of tension tightened in her stomach and her throat burned. She had a bad feeling about this interruption.