Unexpected Consequences

by Cara Bristol

  Like Sleeping Beauty, Melania had been awakened by her prince, but not by his kiss—by his spanking. She couldn’t forecast the future, but she now saw her marriage as the daunting challenge it was. Could love be enough to save it? Homes filled with love slid down flooded hillsides as easily as rancor-filled houses did.

  She’d also gained a better picture of herself, and it was not a flattering one. She felt ashamed for buying and hiding the shoes. She’d acted like a little kid who had stolen a cookie and denied doing it. How immature. She conceded Jared’s anger was justified.

  But spanking? Melania might be able to tolerate a swat every now and then, but a paddling like Jared had delivered was untenable. Melania rubbed her butt cheeks, soothing the ache. She had a hunch she would be sore for days.

  Yet the whisper of her conscience questioned if her regret would have been as deep or genuine if Jared had gone easier on her. He must have been very disappointed to have spanked her so fiercely.

  She sneaked a glance at her husband, who was locking the front door. All her senses shifted from yellow alert to code red.

  “Melania.” The rumble of her name on his lips and the heat she spied in his eyes made her legs tremble. An answering need she hardly understood flooded her pussy with moisture. Jared always affected her that way; he had only to look at her, and her body would begin to hum with desire.

  “You did a wonderful job tonight,” he said.

  “Thank you.” She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and watched the flame in his eyes flare as if doused by accelerant. She expected him to kiss her, but he remained still. She told herself the sinking feeling was relief, not disappointment. She wasn’t ready for him to touch her; her emotions were in too much of an upheaval. It was better he keep his distance.

  Wasn’t it?

  “It’s been…a long day for you. I’ll lock up the rest of the house. You go on to bed. I’ll be up later. Don’t wait.” His tone was as stiff as his posture.

  Melania sucked in a silent breath. She’d obviously misread the signals, imagined the flash of heated desire in his gaze. She swallowed to expel the bitterness of his rejection. After avoiding him, it seemed crazy she should want his reassurance, need his arms around her, crave his physical possession.

  She watched Jared stride from the foyer, each step away from her adding weight to her aching heart.

  Melania blinked back a tear and ascended the stairs to their room.

  In the master suite, she kicked off her shoes and slipped out of her dress in the dark. There was no rush to get ready for bed; Jared would be awhile. He was giving her a taste of her own bitter medicine by avoiding her. She sniffed.

  She stowed her shoes in their box, hung her dress in the closet, then, clad only in bra and thong, sat at her vanity in the bathroom. She winced as her bottom connected with the padded stool, but noted she was getting used to the pain that came with sitting, almost relished it. No, that was insane. How could pain be pleasant?

  Melania poured makeup remover on a wad of cotton and swiped it over her eyelids and face. She sighed. She should have been relieved she had time alone. It was crazy to feel hurt that Jared was delaying coming up to bed.

  She wiped her face with a fresh cotton pad. After being spanked so soundly, making love should have been the last thing on her mind. She moved to her sink and washed her face, patted it dry, then massaged a night moisturizer into her skin.

  Melania stripped off her underwear. The crotch of her panties was damp. The throbbing in her ass cheeks seemed to transmit to other parts of her anatomy. Her sex felt swollen, achy.

  Finished in the bathroom, she moved into the bedroom to get a nightie from her dresser drawer. As she turned from the light switch, she caught sight of her backside in the standing mirrors.

  The rosy brand beckoned her to examine herself further.

  Using one mirror to see her reflection in the other, she appraised her bottom. The hue had deepened since she’d first looked at it. Gingerly she smoothed her hands over her inflamed flesh. Her gaze was riveted on her wedding ring and reddened skin; she was unable to look away. A scarlet mark of shame, the red butterfly on her bottom served as a reminder of her disobedience, of Jared’s rightful dominance. A quickening curled low in her stomach, a stirring answered by a tingle in her clit. Not excitement, she told herself as her breathing increased and her body seemed to loosen and grow languid. Not sexual excitement.

  Curiosity. Just…curiosity.

  She wanted to view herself from Jared’s perspective. She retrieved and donned her mules. After returning to the mirrors, she spread her legs and bent at the waist the way Jared had ordered her to do in his office.

  Her eyes widened.

  The position didn’t merely expose her bare buttocks; it presented them as if they were an offering and revealed the bare lips of her waxed pussy. She looked like sex and submission, a gift and a challenge rolled into one package. Deep within, a latent, elemental hunger stirred. Stripped, posed, and exposed, she looked…

  So fucking beautiful, Jared feared his head would explode.

  He had intended to give Melania more time alone to process what had happened, but found he couldn’t stand to remain apart from her another second. Even if she wouldn’t let him touch her, he had to be near her.

  The sight he found upon entering their bedroom drove him from zero to rigid in seconds. Melania was examining herself in the mirror. Her position, so similar to the spanking pose, sent a rush of white-hot lust coursing through his veins. The round moons of her ass bore his mark of loving discipline, a deep rose hue of such loveliness, his breath caught in his chest. The shade almost matched the color of her glistening sex.

  Transfixed, he watched as her slender fingers moved lightly over her cheeks, tracing the outline of his mark.

  He loved her. He needed her. He needed her to need him. The desire to grab her, to force her to the floor, spank her ass to an even deeper hue, and take her roughly pounded a primitive tom-tom rhythm through his blood. Only a filament-thin thread of sanity restrained him.

  Her white teeth nibbled at her lower lip, something she did unconsciously when she was thinking. Her expression held amazement and desire, the combination of innocence and sexuality so potent, Jared’s resistance crumbled under its force.

  Drawn like a moth to the flame, he stalked toward her. “Melania,” he rasped.

  She squealed, bolting upright. Wide-eyed as a doe in headlights, she stared at him, rooted to the spot. In the soft light of the bedroom lamps, her skin glowed like pearls set on fire. Her jet-black curls cascaded over one delicate shoulder, enticingly hiding one breast. The other presented a naked temptation, its nipple a rosy pebble. Her tiny waist dipped inward, her slim but womanly hips curving into sexy legs. Her mound was sweetly and submissively bare, an accommodation to his preferences.

  He returned his gaze to her face. Her cheekbones were flushed, her lovely eyes telegraphing a silent, secret plea. Hand shaking, Jared curved his palm around her neck and tilted her head slightly so he could look into her eyes. “Are you afraid of me, Melania?” His heart thumped as he waited for her answer.

  Her hazel eyes rounded. She lowered her lashes, then looked at him. She shook her head slightly. “No.” The whispered word made his chest swell with hope.

  “Sweet Melania.” His voice was hoarse.

  She parted her lips as if to speak, but no sound emerged. Unable to resist the invitation, he stroked the line of her lower lip with his thumb. She pursed her soft mouth and kissed it, her pink tongue delicately licking the pad. Jared’s heart contracted, and he lost it.

  He crushed her against his chest and kissed her. He’d expected resistance, rejection, but her tongue danced with his, demanding as well as giving. A wave of relief swept aside all vestiges of doubt, of hesitation, of restraint. He wanted to woo her, take his time pleasuring her, but he was caught in an undertow of sexual hunger. When Melania wrapped her arms around his neck and melded her pliant body to his, h
is good intentions shattered.

  He grabbed her perfect ass and yanked her hard against his erection. She flinched, but her whimper of discomfort mellowed to a moan of satisfaction, and she teased him with a rotation of her hips.

  He tore his mouth away from hers to press against the shell of her ear. “I need you, sweetheart,” he growled. He nipped the side of her neck, then soothed the hurt with his tongue.

  Lust raged inside him like a caged predator, and he worried what would happen if he let it loose, fearing he wouldn’t be able to offer her the gentleness she needed. He would hurt her, and he wouldn’t be able to protect her from himself. After the spanking, she needed to be cosseted, wooed with gentle persuasion, not overwhelmed by a full-on erotic assault. As every nerve and muscle shouted in protest, he made an effort to extricate himself from her embrace, to lock the predator’s cage before the animal devoured them both.

  Melania would have none of it. She clung to him, curling her hands into his shirt, claiming him as her captive.

  “Easy, sweetheart. Take it slow,” he said, though every cell in his body roared in frustration.

  Her eyes took on a wickedly seductive glint. “Why?”

  With a groan, Jared capitulated to her sweet demand, unable to fight himself and her too. He plundered her mouth like a pillaging raider sacking a village. He drew on her sweetness, unable to get enough, each kiss stoking a craving for more.

  Their hands collided, tangled, as he captured her tight, rosy nipples while Melania tore at his buttons. After she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, she tugged on his belt buckle. She fumbled, unable to release the stiff leather. He pushed her hands away and yanked the belt hard, freeing the strap of leather from the buckle. Melania moved to his zipper, slid down the tab, and shoved his pants and briefs to his ankles.

  He expelled a vicious curse as she encircled his erection, smoothing her fingers over the crown, tracing the ridge, seeking out and teasing the opening. Lust rocketed through him, but it was relief and gratitude that made him shake. Until this moment, Jared hadn’t known how worried he’d been. The realization hit him that his uncertainty about the spanking was caused by fear of her reaction, her rejection. He’d accused Melania of not trusting him, but he was guilty of the same. He’d assumed her post-discipline reticence was a symptom of something more serious—that he’d lost her—instead of a normal, natural reaction.

  Melania meant everything to him. She made him weak—and she made him strong. With her, he felt as if he could conquer the world.

  Jared toed off his shoes and socks, and then kicked aside his pants and shorts. Melania stroked his cock, whipped his blazing lust to a roaring bonfire. He ached to thrust inside her, to seal their union of spirit, but he wouldn’t last two seconds inside her wet heat.

  He gripped her shoulders and gently forced her to her knees.

  Melania peered at him, the innocence of her wide-eyed regard belied by the seductive smile curving her lips.

  He tangled his hands in her hair. “Suck me.” His crude words ordered; his hoarse tone begged.

  Her plump lips, kissed rosy, parted, and she engulfed him with her mouth. Jared jerked. Savage pleasure pounded white-hot spikes through his cock and balls. She sucked the way he’d taught her to, using her lips and tongue, her mouth working his rod with innocent abandon. She hollowed her cheeks as she sucked, taking him deep in the back of her throat.

  Desperately afraid she might stop, he captured her head with his hands, preventing her from withdrawing even though she showed no signs of wanting to. She closed her mouth around him like a vise. The harmony of enjoyment that erupted from her throat mingled with a melody of slurping and sucking to create a sweet, carnal song.

  The view heightened the sensations rolling through him. From above, he could see her face, the devilment glinting in her eyes, and could watch his cock slide in and out of her mouth. That alone was arousing enough. But the view in the mirrors almost brought him to his knees. The image of his wife, submissive, kneeling at his feet, her ass spanked scarlet, stirred deep feelings of possessiveness.

  Melania was his.

  “Spread your legs, Melania,” he growled. “Show me your pussy.” He’d been picturing her all night.

  She complied, opening her legs wide, revealing the wetness of her desire. Jared sucked in a harsh gasp at the perfection. “Sweet Melania. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned. He twisted his hands in her hair, clinging to the silken strands.

  She increased her magic with her mouth, and he struggled for control, to prolong the pleasure, but the heat whipped through him, and his balls contracted with impending orgasm. He thrust his hips fast and hard into her mouth, his cock convulsed, and he pumped his hot seed into her throat.

  Pulsations continued to ripple through his cock when he pulled out of her grasping mouth. She moaned, swallowing, licking her lips as if savoring his cum.

  Jared’s gaze collided with hers. He drew ragged breaths into his lungs. He wasn’t finished with Melania. Not by a long shot. Now he could give her the pleasure she was due.

  Melania gasped as Jared swung her into his arms and sat her on their huge four-poster bed, then positioned her so her legs bent at the knees and her ass and heels were even with the edge. She made a small noise of protest when he attempted to press her thighs apart, but she reluctantly allowed him to display her sex. It made her self-conscious when Jared wanted to look at her so intimately, but it got easier each time.

  She enjoyed giving him head, delighted in the satiny feel of him in her mouth, loved the effect it had on him. She’d been squeamish at first, but Jared had coached her patiently and taught her how to please him. His explosive response, the taste and texture of his cum, thrilled her most of all. She reveled in the power to make her strong, macho husband groan and jerk under her touch. Melania loved, too, that after he came, the balance of control tipped back into Jared’s hands.

  His fierce scrutiny caused nervous excitement to coil in the pit of her stomach. His desire seemed more intense than usual. His facial muscles were stretched taut, like a rubber band about to snap, while his dark eyes simmered with erotic menace, razing all residual doubts that he didn’t want her. Assurance of her allure welled within her. This man was hers.

  Her husband dropped to his knees and wedged his broad shoulders between her legs. In the mirror she could see his backside, his buttocks tight, his thighs sinewed, his back muscled. His nostrils flared from her scent as he slowly trailed a finger up and down her cleft, tormenting her with gentleness. She squirmed, her hips alternately seeking then shying away from his touch. The level of intimacy he demanded made her feel exposed, vulnerable, yet the more he asked of her, the more she gave. His demand made it her desire.

  “Please… Jared.” She thrashed her head. She needed his possession, his love, his reassurance, but couldn’t bring herself to ask. She had disappointed him. Now she needed to know she could satisfy him. She knew he loved her and had forgiven her, but she needed to feel it, deep in the marrow of her bones.

  “Please what, Melania?” He circled the bud of her clit as if he had all the time in the world. She lifted her hips. His delicate torment was worse than Chinese water torture.

  “Please…me?” he asked softly. “You do, Melania. You drive me insane with wanting you. It’s only fair I return the favor.”

  Joy suffused her. Her head felt light with relief, as if she could float away, while her body tingled with electric energy.

  He bent his head, and his lips hovered over her pussy. “You smell like honey and sex.” He teased her with feather kisses, flicking his tongue over the hood of her clit, then swiping lightly at her entrance. Desire scorched her. How could she burn so when he barely touched her? She fisted the bedspread as if hanging on for dear life.

  Jared raised his head. “When I entered the bedroom and saw you checking yourself out in the mirror”—he paused, his hot gaze searing her—“I wanted to spank you all over again.” His voice deepened. “But n
ot for the same reason.”

  Her desire arced. Again she was at his mercy, splayed naked and vulnerable, yet here in their lamp-lit bedroom, the notion of a spanking didn’t frighten her. Her bottom still throbbed and ached from the earlier one, but shamefully, perversely, she wanted another. Where was her fear? What power did Jared have over her that he could twist and turn her emotions with such ease?

  She wet her parched lips. “I wanted to see what you saw,” she whispered.

  Adoration warmed his gaze. “What I saw—what I see now—is a beautiful, sexy woman who loves me so much, she gives herself to me heart, body, and soul.”

  A shaft of guilt pierced the haze of desire enveloping her. Jared would be crushed if he knew she’d packed a suitcase and phoned her father. He would perceive it as evidence of her immaturity, her unsuitability to be his wife. She was dismayed by her actions. What had happened to “for better or for worse”? Had she really been so childish as to expect only the “better”?

  All worries evaporated in a poof as Jared’s mouth descended on her sex.

  He devoured her with a voraciousness that sent her senses spinning. She gasped, the raw, sharp sensation whipping through her as his tongue lashed her clit, engorged by arousal. Each stroke of his tongue tightened the tension until she shook with need. Her concentration centered on Jared and the delicious torment he wreaked upon her body.

  Spanking had focused her senses on pain; this erotic assault focused her on pleasure. Intense, searing rapture that was almost as agonizing as the spanking. Jared was responsible for both.

  He moved his mouth over her swollen pussy, licking the moisture creaming from her channel. He parted her folds with his thumbs and penetrated her with his tongue, delving deep, fucking her. Melania curled her hands into Jared’s hair. She wanted to move her hips, but Jared held her fast. She wanted to come and come now, but Jared was a maestro, orchestrating her response, alternately pushing her toward and pulling her back from the abyss. She gave him her best, her body humming and vibrating under his hands, his mouth.