Sold Into Marriage

by Sue Lyndon

  She stepped back, in the direction of the tall grasses, as the first traces of repentance crossed her features. The last glimmer of anger left her eyes, her shoulders relaxed, and she gave him a wary look. “Varron, I-I would like to ap-apologize for the way I acted. I’m sorry. I didn’t set out to disobey you, I just wanted to visit the stream one last time, and try to glimpse the white eagle that lives in the forest. It must sound silly to you, I realize that, but you must understand. I didn’t grow up in Monnaka and I’ve never fit in. The stream was my place of solitude, and I am used to going there whenever I please.”

  He felt a stab of pity for Meadow. He’d assumed she’d grown up here in Monnaka, but perhaps it was for the best that she hadn’t. This way she wasn’t leaving anyone she cared about behind. At least he hoped not.

  “Do you have any friends you wish to say farewell to before we leave tomorrow morning?”

  She gave her head a shake. “No friends. I never really tried to make any here. The only thing I wished to do before leaving was bid goodbye to my stream, and I’ve already done that. Look, Varron, I really am sorry I screamed at you so. It’s just…well, you can’t fault me for being angry at you for questioning me over a short walk I took, and then for being caught off guard by an earlier than expected wedding ceremony.”

  “Aye, I can fault you for it, lass. You acted poorly, and I aim to correct your behavior. You will learn that disobedience, shouting, and name calling are not behaviors I will tolerate.”

  She paled further and gulped hard. “Well, I will strive not to call you names again, or yell at you, or disobey you. I promise. Again, I’m sorry.” Her voice trembled, betraying her nervousness over what he’d promised would come—her correction. She was a smart girl, and she no doubt suspected he intended to apply his flattened palm to her naughty bottom.

  “I accept your apology, Meadow,” he said, guiding her toward his tent. “But no amount of recanting will save you from the chastisement you have earned. Into the tent with you, naughty lass. I will take care of your spanking now.”

  Chapter Four

  Butterflies flittered in Meadow’s stomach. She stood in the middle of the large tent, watching as Varron removed his surcoat and rolled the sleeves of his tunic up to reveal his powerful forearms. He took his sword belt off next, but placed it atop the trunk near his bedroll. Well, at least he wasn’t going to give her a strapping.

  His hands though. Lord, they were huge. Her throat dried up as she stared at them, wondering just how much a spanking would hurt. Less than a session with his sword belt had, she supposed, yet that thought gave her little comfort.

  All the shame she’d felt the night before as he’d bared her bottom and delivered her strapping came rushing back. Her face flamed and she couldn’t meet Varron’s gaze.

  It wasn’t fair. They’d just become husband and wife, and before he’d even taken her to bed he was going to spank her. Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them back and gulped hard.

  “Varron, I said I was sorry. You needn’t punish me. I-I have learned my lesson already.”

  “There’s a difference between saying you’ve learned a lesson, and actually feeling that you’ve learned it. I guarantee that you will feel you have learned your lesson by the time I am through with you, lass. Now, don’t be afraid. It will not hurt as much as the strapping you took last night. I imagine you are still sore from that, and I will take the condition of your bottom into account while I spank you.” His tone was gentle, coaxing.

  Meadow looked up, finally meeting his gaze. Her eyes stung and her throat burned. “Please,” she begged, one last time.

  Varron’s lips formed a firm line and his jaw tightened. He strode to the stool she’d bent across last night and pulled it to the center of the tent, a few feet away from her. After taking a seat on it, he stared pointedly at her and patted his thigh.

  “Place yourself over my lap, Meadow. Show me what a good, obedience wife you can be, and submit to your punishment, submit to your husband.”

  Dread filled her, but she found herself moving to his side. Though she barely knew him, she trusted him not to truly hurt her. Logically, she knew if she could survive a strapping, she could survive a spanking. But it was so humiliating, to have to place herself over her new husband’s lap, just because she’d been naughty and lost her temper.

  She took a shuddering breath and lowered herself across his thighs. He secured her in place, with her bottom positioned high in the air, her legs dangling above the ground. He held her close to him, and she felt strangely safe and secure, though her shame grew when he began flipping the layers of her skirt up.

  “When I must spank you, Meadow, it will always be on your bare bottom,” he said, lifting the final layer of her skirt.

  She felt the cool air touch her nether region, wafting against her exposed quim lips and even her bottom hole as he arranged her legs spread slightly. He cupped her behind with his warm hand, massaging her and moving from cheek to cheek. Heavens, why couldn’t he just get it over with? She was certain her face had turned red from her shame. No man had ever seen her naked, and he had an up close view of her most private places.

  “Only two faint stripes are left from the strapping.” He squeezed. “Are you still sore at all?”

  “A little, sir.”

  “Are you going to be a good little lass in the future? Or am I going to have to chastise you frequently?”

  “I’ll be good,” she replied quickly.

  He chuckled and continued caressing her, even pulling her cheeks apart and exposing her privates further on occasion as he rubbed. Then, to her utter mortification, he tapped against her backside hole. “You have the cutest little pucker, Meadow.” Tap tap tap.

  “Please, sir, you mustn’t touch me there. It isn’t proper.” She squirmed around but he held her fast in place.

  “You are my wife now, and I shall touch you wherever I wish. Whenever I wish. Had you not been naughty, I would be mauling you on the bedroll right now, touching you all over and pounding my cock into your tight virgin quim. I would be groping your breasts and even sucking on your nipples. I would be playing with the little flower bud between your thighs that brings you the most pleasure, too. But alas, you were naughty, and naughty girls get spanked, Meadow.”

  Her breath caught and she renewed her struggles, but he held her firmly over his lap, and she soon gave up her vain attempt at escape.

  Smack! He brought his hand down upon her bottom without warning. It stung and she tried to slip to the floor, but he tightened his hold on her and began spanking her in earnest, alternating from left cheek to right, and even striking the very tops of her thighs. She kicked her legs and cried out her displeasure, but her thrashing around and pleas didn’t seem to have any affect on him. If anything, the impact of his blows increased just after she gave an especially hard struggle.

  She gripped his calf for balance. The pain intensified, her flesh aflame as he spanked and spanked. She felt remorse for the way she’d talked back to him and screamed. She wasn’t used to yelling at anyone, but the couple of times she had hollered back at her stepfather, she had felt better afterward.

  Screaming at Varron, though, had only made her feel guilty. Why was that? She sniffled and stilled over his lap as a deep sense of regret swept through her. She’d called him a number of vile names. Tears escaped her eyes, trickled down her face, and dropped onto the ground below. She’d called him terrible names, some of the same terrible names her stepfather had called her.

  Guilt exploded in her chest and she started sobbing, hiccupping through the tears that wouldn’t slow no matter how hard she tried to stop crying. She gave up trying to will the tears away and surrendered to the heart wrenching emotions sweeping through her.

  “Varron, I’m sorry, so sorry,” she said, apologizing over and over again.

  He stopped spanking her a few moments later and resumed caressing her bottom cheeks.

  “Shh, Meadow, it’s over. You took y
our punishment well, just as you did last night. I’m proud of you, lass.”

  For a reason she couldn’t discern, hearing Varron say he was proud of her made her cry harder. She could scarcely breathe through her deep sobs.

  He turned her over and cradled her in his lap, holding her head against his heart as he stroked her hair and murmured soothing words into her ear. He called her a good girl and a sweet lass and other beautiful endearments no man had ever uttered to her before. He stood up with her still in his arms and carried her to the bedroll. He sank down atop the fur covering and held her close in his lap, tucking her head underneath his chin.

  “I am just like him,” she said, sniffling.

  “Just like who?” Varron pulled back to stare down at her. He brushed her hair behind her ears and met her gaze, concern reflecting in his dark depths.

  “Just like my stepfather. I called you so many horrible names, even knowing how awful it is to be spoken to like that, to be insulted and made to feel like nothing at the expense of someone else’s anger.”

  “Oh, Meadow. You’re not like your stepfather at all. You lost your temper, and you apologized for it. Has your stepfather ever apologized to you for anything?”

  “N-no, never.”

  “Do you think he’s ever felt guilty and cried over the things he’s said to you?”

  Her expression turned thoughtful and her tears slowed. He wiped away the lingering moisture with his thumbs.

  “No, I don’t think the man’s felt guilty about a thing in his life, let alone cried over his actions. You have a point.” She graced him with a tiny, shy smile. “Thank you, Varron. Thank you for being so understanding, and thank you for still marrying me, even though I didn’t seem very eager at the time.”

  “All is forgiven, my sweet girl.” He tucked one hand under her and caressed her freshly punished bottom. “I know you have learned your lesson, and I doubt this is a problem we will have again.”

  A flush covered her face.

  “Now, wife, I am finished with my duties for the day. My soldiers insisted I return to you and to trust they would conduct the rest of the tax collecting without my supervision, and I confess it did not take much convincing.”

  Oh, Lord. He was going to take her now. He was going to strip her clothes off and do all those deliciously wonderful things he’d mentioned earlier, right after he’d put her over his knee. He planned to suck her nipples, and touch her all over, and pound his cock into her tight virgin quim.

  A spasm of heat rocked through her core, and an unfamiliar but delightful pressure coiled tighter and tighter between her thighs. She squirmed against his hand, wishing he’d shift his hand from her bottom to the parts of her that were suddenly throbbing. The ache built and built, and she gave a strangled sigh of relief when he finally touched her there. On her quim.

  “My my, little wife. You are soaking wet.”

  He leaned down and kissed her hard.

  *****

  “That’s it, wife. Move against my hand just like that.”

  Varron finally had her naked beneath him, and he’d removed his clothes as well. He’d lit all the braziers to keep the tent warm, and he’d lit a lantern and placed it near the bedroll too. The light danced across her smooth pale flesh as she writhed against him. He pressed the heel of his hand to her clit and moved it in a slow, circular motion.

  “Oh God!” She stared at him, panting. “What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m touching your little flower bud, Meadow. Tell me, have you ever stroked yourself between your thighs and brought yourself to pleasure?”

  “No, I haven’t. I never knew…oh my!”

  He withdrew from her clit and cupped her breasts, squeezing and massaging the generous mounds. Next, he twisted her nipples, rubbing and coaxing them to stiff, dark pink peaks. She arched into his touch, an urgent moan escaping her lips. She gasped for air, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and her face was flushed a pretty shade of pink.

  He kissed her again, harder than before, and thrilled at her sweet responsiveness as she kissed him back. He situated his rigid length at the apex of her thighs, pressing forward ever so slowly, until the head of his cock was fully inside her.

  Christ, she was wet and so fucking hot, and it took all his self-control not to thrust into her and start pounding with abandon. He had to remind himself of her innocence. She’d never taken a cock into her quim before, and he would be gentle with her—well, as gentle as he could manage—this first time.

  “Please please please,” she said once he moved from her lips to kiss and nibble on her neck. “Varron, I…” She was beside herself with pleasure, arching into him and attempting to take more of his manhood into her snug channel.

  “Be very still, young lady, unless you want me to lose control.” He peered into her eyes. “You are a virgin, lass, and it will hurt a little this first time. I am trying to go slow and be gentle with you.”

  A look of confusion flittered across her face, but she obeyed, ceasing her movements and resting beneath him.

  “Good girl. Now, I am going to claim you as mine, Meadow. The pain will last but a moment, and then I promise to make you feel good. You’ll be thrashing around and crying out in ecstasy before you know it. Do you trust me?” He inched forward and paused when he met the resistance of her virginal barrier.

  “Aye, Varron. I-I trust you.” She donned a brave expression and nodded, beckoning him to plunge fully into her tightness.

  He drove forward, pushing past her hymen and burying himself in her hilt-deep. She cried out and clutched onto him as if for dear life, her nails digging into his back. Pausing within her, he waited until she relaxed slightly, her breathing slowing and her grip on him lessening.

  “Are you all right, my sweet?”

  “Aye, I’m fine, Varron. The pain…well, it’s fading.”

  God, she was tight. Tighter than he had imagined. He’d never taken a virgin before.

  He blinked quickly to dispel the dark spots clouding his vision and commenced moving in and out of her at a torturously slow pace. His blood heated and sweat trickled down his temples. He felt as if a beast was caged inside him, roaring and clawing to get out, but still he held back and contained his most primal urges to be rough with the lass, not wanting to hurt or scare her.

  Gradually, he built a faster rhythm inside her, and she gave a soft moan and parted her thighs wider, inviting his thrusts and even meeting some of them. He grabbed her hips and went faster, deeper, as he stared into her eyes and felt his heart softening to his new wife.

  It was the oddest feeling—experiencing physical pleasure at the same time his heart moved for her. He felt possessive of her and vowed to never let harm come to her. He’d keep her safe always, this sweet little bride of his.

  He reached for her clit and swirled her moisture atop the engorged nubbin, applying more and more pressure as he circled it. Her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned louder and met his thrusts with more vigor. Her moans turned to pleading, urgent whines, and seconds later she writhed violently and cried out beneath him, the ecstasy finally taking her under.

  “That’s it, lass. Come for me while my cock is deep inside you.”

  The exquisite tightness of her muscles clamping down on his length as she convulsed around him drove him past the point of no return. A tingling sensation zipped up his inner thighs and his balls tightened. Blackness once again dotted his vision and he came hard, pumping into her faster as he spurted his seed into her depths.

  After he recovered from his release, he slowly pulled out of her and gathered her against him, drawing the fur coverings overtop them both. He stroked her hair and kissed her cheek, and she snuggled against him, wrapping one leg around his and resting a hand on his chest. She drew lazy circles in his chest hair and sighed sweetly as the sounds of the night suddenly became apparent.

  Animals screeched in the nearby forest, and a chorus of crickets even started up, though not as loud as during the hot summer mo
nths. Laughter and men’s voices floated in from the camp. Shadows moved by the tent as Varron’s men prepared to slumber one last night before they awoke early for the return trip to Himma.

  “Varron?”

  “Yes, lass?”

  “Why did you buy me?”

  He ran his fingers through her soft hair, thinking this would be the perfect way to end his days, every day for the rest of his life. “I bought you because I wanted you, Meadow. I wanted you as mine. The thought of another possessing you drives me blind with rage. The thought of anyone hurting you makes me feel murderous.” His hold on her tightened for a moment as he imagined a powerful lord from the capital city putting her to work in his house, beating her savagely for the slightest offense, and possibly even breeding her with another slave. He doubted she understood the full severity of what could’ve happened to her in the city, and he loathed her stepfather for not caring if she suffered such an awful fate.

  “I should hate that you paid for me, but I don’t,” she said after a while, almost in a whisper. She sounded close to sleep. “Thank you for saving me, Varron. Thank you…” Her voice trailed off and soon the sound of her steady, slow and deep breaths, indicated she’d fallen fast asleep.

  He hugged her tighter and kissed her forehead. And then he thought about their future. He didn’t want to live with her in the capital city. He wished to retire from the king’s army and take her back to his homeland, to Geshema Providence. The large island was governed by King Baltus’ cousin, and the king rarely interfered in the affairs of those who lived there. It was a beautiful and sparsely populated tropical island, and not a day passed that he didn’t regret leaving.

  But as a young man he’d sought adventure and glory in battle, and his journeys had taken him to the capital city where he’d entered into King Baltus’ service and risen in the ranks, all the way up to a commander. The only thing that had tied him to Geshema Providence was the land he’d owned, land he had inherited upon his father’s death. The house he’d grown up in was still standing; his childhood friends kept an eye on it and sent him correspondences about the goings on in Geshema from time to time. He watched Meadow sleeping as he formulated a plan to retire from the king’s service and start a new life with his young bride.