“Oh,” Heath said, feeling confused. He didn’t know if Willow would prefer a different fabric, and he didn’t trust Victoria to tell him straight.
“There’s also the size issue,” Victoria continued. “From what I can recall, she’s a little on the scrawny side, isn’t she?” Her voice was as silky as the dress.
“She’s slender,” Heath said. “Is that dress too big for her?”
“It might be. How about you have her come here and I’ll fit it to her?”
Heath didn’t like that idea. It would be like throwing a kitten to a wolf. “No, I’ll go ahead and buy it,” he said, with firmness in his tone. “She can bring it back in if she needs it fitted.”
“Sure, if that’s the way you want it. I’ll just wrap it up for you then.”
Heath waited in awkward silence as Victoria folded the dress and wrapped brown paper around it. She tied it off with a length of twine. After he paid, he said his thanks quickly and left, exhaling as soon as he left the shop. The event had been even more uncomfortable than he’d predicted, and he had an irrational suspicion that he’d put something terrible into motion that he was helpless to prevent.
Chapter Fourteen
After supper, Willow excused herself to her room, where she curled up on her bed and mused about how Heath would show his affection to her. She thought about what it would feel like for him to kiss her. She licked her lips, imagining his mouth against hers as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.
A rap on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Willow, may I come in?” Heath asked.
Willow sat up straight on the bed. She was already wearing her nightgown. It occurred to her that it was improper dress to wear in front of the man courting her, but considering that Heath had already seen her bare from the waist down, it seemed silly to care.
“Yes, come in,” she answered, as she ran a hand over her hair to make sure it wasn’t sticking up in the back from a cowlick she’d had her whole life.
Heath walked in, a brown paper package under his arm, and closed the door behind him.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“You remember how I said I wanted to show my affection to you?”
She smiled. “Yes, how could I forget?”
“One way is by buying you gifts.” He handed it to her and then took a seat next to her on the bed.
His weight caused her to lean against his body. She shifted her seat to be positioned just a hair’s width apart from him, but she could feel the warmth emanating from him.
She guessed from the package’s size and weight that the gift was material of some sort. Carefully, she untied the bow of twine and pulled it apart. The brown paper crackled loudly in the silence of the room.
It was a dress—quite a fancy one from the looks of it. She ran her hand carefully over the rich green satin and fingered the lace that trimmed the dress. “It’s beautiful.”
Heath seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you think so. If it’s too big, the seamstress said she could take it in for you.”
“I’m not used to wearing dresses.”
“I know, and I was told that this dress is not for everyday use, only special occasions.”
Willow didn’t know when she would be able to make use of the dress, but she didn’t want to appear ungrateful. “Thank you, Heath. It’s very nice.”
As though reading her mind, he said, “I want to propose when you might wear it. I thought I would take you for a buggy ride and picnic this coming Sunday, if the weather allows.”
Willow liked the idea of spending hours alone with Heath. Even a few minutes in his presence caused her belly to flip with excitement. “Alright,” she said, staring down at the dress. Shyly, she added, “You weren’t kidding about showing me affection.”
“No, of course not.” He reached over and touched the side of her chin with one finger, turning her to look at him. Like when he’d held her hand, the touch sent excitement skittering throughout her body.
“If the dress doesn’t feel comfortable, you can wear trousers,” he said. “I’m not going to dictate what you wear. I think you’re pretty no matter what.”
His words warmed her from head to toe. “Thank you, Heath.”
He lowered his hand to rest on her knee. “I got the idea you wouldn’t mind such a gift when I saw you gussying up Bitty.”
“I don’t mind at all. It’s just that I’ve never liked wearing dresses because I don’t see the point. They’re not as comfortable as trousers, and I’m not a looker. The way I see it, an ugly girl might as well wear ugly clothes.”
His eyes narrowed and seemed to bore into hers. “Careful,” he said softly, squeezing her knee. “Saying things like that will get you spanked again.”
Surprised, she looked away, but he cupped her chin and turned her face to look at him again. “I mean it, darlin’,” he said.
She blinked. “I know, but I don’t understand. I’m not trying to say the wrong thing.” Her heartbeat picked up, both from the threat of punishment and from Heath’s continued touch.
“You truly don’t understand?”
She tried to shake her head. He released her chin and sighed in an exasperated way. Standing, he took her hand and drew her to the full-length looking-glass next to the door. The mirror had belonged to Rose, and shortly after Willow had moved in, Heath had moved it from his bedroom to Willow’s, saying he figured she would have more use for it than he would. But Willow had barely glanced at it before that moment.
“Look at yourself,” he instructed. “You’re beautiful, from your shining black hair, to your little button nose and kissable lips, down to your soft curves, and the neat, trim lines of your legs. Try to see yourself as I see you.”
She obeyed, studying her reflection. She didn’t mention that she’d already done this while naked after her bath. Like before, she was able to see herself through Heath’s eyes, and the truth was clear to her. She looked nothing like her stunning mother, but she was attractive in a way that was uniquely her. She felt Heath’s gaze on her body, and it caused something to bloom inside of her. Her feelings were new—a sort of awakening. It was a feeling of being noticed, without any fear of judgment attached.
“Do you see how beautiful you are?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think I do. Yes.” She looked at him through the reflection of the mirror and smiled.
He nodded but didn’t return the smile. He sat on the bed. “I’m glad. Now come bend over my knee for your punishment, lickety-split.”
She turned to face him, shocked. “I don’t deserve a spanking!”
“You do, for calling yourself ugly.”
“Heath, that hardly seems reasonable. How is it that I lived here for two months without any spankings, and now I’m to receive two in a row?”
He patted his right leg. “I’ll explain, but first you will obey.”
She groaned, convinced he was being unfair, but she took her place over his lap.
“Good girl,” he said, with a short chuckle. “That wasn’t easy for you, but you want to obey me, don’t you?”
“I guess,” she mumbled. She propped up on her elbows on the bed and rested her chin in her hands. Her legs dangled in the air.
“When you first joined us, my expectations for you were low. My main concern was to make sure you settled in well, behaved yourself, and learned to live an honest lifestyle.”
“I did all that,” Willow pointed out.
“You sure, did, honey. I’m very proud of you. You exceeded all of my original expectations, and you even became my friend, someone I respect.”
He proceeded to perform the embarrassing task of lifting her nightgown and revealing her bare bottom, causing her to drop her face against the quilt. Her voice muffled, she said, “But you wouldn’t have spanked me for calling myself ugly before.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. That’s what I’m trying to explain. I’m only going to spank you because my expectations for you have go
tten higher, and I think you like it that way.”
He laid his large hand over her bottom. She felt such a jolt of arousal she let out a quiet mewl. “Please,” she begged. “I feel so much.” She didn’t know how to express to him the confusion of feelings—arousal and embarrassment. She wanted him to spank her, and she wanted him not to spank her just as much.
“I know.” His voice was kind. “This will not be a harsh punishment. Only a little discipline to remind you never to call yourself ugly again.” He brought his hand down in a splat across both cheeks. It was not a gentle swat, but it wasn’t hard enough to cause anything but a sting. The next stroke caught the lowest part of her left cheek, and an identical stroke on her right quickly followed.
“Are you ever going to put yourself down again, Willow?” he asked sternly.
“No, sir,” she responded. Like before when she’d been over his lap, she felt completely submissive and eager to please him.
“Three more swats to make sure of that,” he said.
The spanks were delivered sharply one after the other and built up sufficient burning on her posterior to elicit a yelp at the end, but the discipline was much, much more lenient compared to the first spanking.
He rubbed her bottom. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Mmmn, no, and that feels nice.”
“Your bottom is perfect. Soft skin. Plump little cheeks.” He gave one cheek a gratuitous squeeze before continuing to rub.
“You liked spanking me just now, didn’t you?” she asked, without any accusation in her tone.
He stopped rubbing. “I liked it about as much as you did.”
“I didn’t at all. You spank hard, and it hurts.”
“Hmm,” he responded. “I’m going to ask you to do something, and you can say no if you want. Alright?”
She didn’t know what he could possibly want her to do while in her current position, but she nodded. In that moment, she would have done anything he asked. The feeling of his hand on her bottom in such a proprietary, loving fashion caused her to feel especially obedient.
“Spread your legs and allow me to touch between them.”
Her breath caught. Never in her wildest dreams would she have guessed he would ask that. “What? Why?” she asked hoarsely.
“Because I want to prove something, and I also want to give you pleasure.” He smoothed his hand over her bottom down to her thigh, resting it there.
She looked at him over her shoulder and met his gaze. His expression was intense, but there was kindness in his eyes. “Remember, you can say no.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Brave girl,” he said. He smiled, and there was a glint of wickedness in his smile that made him appear just the slightest bit dangerous. “Go ahead then.”
Her heart picked up speed, but she was resolved to do as he asked. She buried her head in the quilt and shifted. She moved her thighs apart slightly, barely an inch. She lacked the courage to move them more, but Heath took over. He guided her leg toward him, then gently pushed her other leg away so that it dropped down over his knee and her toes touched the floor. She felt obscenely exposed with her legs sprawled so far apart, and the fanning of cool air that brushed her sex accentuated her exposure.
She held her breath as the tips of his calloused fingers scraped over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, from her inner knee upward, touching her with such exquisite slowness she felt as though she might burst before his fingers reached their destination.
When his fingers finally dipped into her slit, she convulsed and grasped the quilt with both hands. Heath took in a sharp breath. “It’s as I expected,” he said, his voice a rumbling growl. He slid a finger further, touching the little bundle of nerves and swirling his finger around it languidly.
Willow arched her back and gasped. The touch was more than she could stand, but she also didn’t want him to stop. “What’s as you expected?” she whimpered.
His finger stopped swirling, and he removed his hand briefly, before landing two heavy pats to her mound. He grasped the entirety of her pussy possessively. “You’re wet for me. You enjoyed that spanking as much as I did, and you’re aching for me to enter you, aren’t you, Willow?”
“I-I don’t know,” she said. But she did know. She wanted to feel him inside of her.
“Don’t lie,” he said mildly, giving her mound another spank. This time the swat landed painfully over her little nub, but the pain was quickly followed by pleasure as he resumed stroking around her sensitized sex.
Her toes curled. She moaned and shifted, trying to feel more of his touch, willing him to do something more, something rougher than the gentle tease of her flesh with his fingers.
“Tell me how you feel, Willow,” he said.
“I feel like… I want you. Please keep… touching me.”
He responded with a groan and slipped a finger inside of her. He felt along her channel as she clenched onto his finger in desperation. “Oh, please,” she gasped.
“That’s right, girl, beg for it,” he said, and slipped another finger inside of her.
Delicious humiliation washed over her as he pumped two fingers in and out of her, causing her to writhe and clench every muscle of her body.
She was reveling in the sensations, eyes closed, mewling as he took her toward the same pleasure she’d received after her first punishment.
Then without warning, he removed his hand from between her legs and spanked her bottom, over and over. “Tell me again that you didn’t like getting spanked, little liar,” he said.
His hand blazed fire across her seat, causing her entire body to tense up. She gasped and clawed the quilt, desperate to escape his punishing hand, but his forearm against her back kept her tightly in place.
He halted the spanking, which brought some relief, but the reprieve was only to pull her body closer to him. He repositioned her legs so that each naked thigh draped on either side of his left knee. He resumed spanking, hard, causing her mound to crash against the muscles of his thigh in rhythm. The pain mounted along with the pleasure, and she couldn’t make sense of her desire to escape the pain and simultaneously squeeze from it the pleasure that seemed just out of reach.
Mercifully, he ceased spanking and moved his hot hand to between her legs once again. His fingers were as gentle on her velvet flesh as his palm had been hard on her bottom. She moaned and surrendered to his ministrations. Again, he entered her with two fingers. For a time, all that could be heard was the slick sounds of him sliding in and out of her along with her gasps as her arousal climbed.
All at once an orgasm burst through her like dynamite, and she cried out.
Heath continued to pump his fingers in her pussy, but he wrapped his other hand over her mouth. His harsh whisper tickled her ear. “Hush! All of Thorndale doesn’t need to know I’m fingering your wet little cunt.”
She choked back her cry of pleasure, stunned by his crude language, which only managed to heighten her excitement and make it more difficult to stifle her moans. She mewled against his hand, breathing hard as her orgasm receded. Still holding a hand over her mouth, Heath removed his fingers from where they were buried inside of her and stroked his hand lightly over her bottom, covering her in her own juices.
Once she had ridden the last delicious wave of pleasure, she found herself unable to speak with his hand still covering her mouth. She nipped his finger, not too hard, but enough to cause his hand to jerk away from her mouth in surprise.
“Hey!” he said. “Don’t tell me you already want another spanking.”
She giggled and rolled over in his lap. She lifted herself into a seated position and wrapped her arms around his neck. “No. But you were right, I liked that spanking.” Underneath her, she felt the hard length of him, pressing against the split of her cheeks. She flushed as understanding dawned on her that his cock was hard for her.
He grinned. “I quite enjoyed it myself.”
She wriggled her bottom over his cock. “Really?
”
“Don’t do that!”
“Do what?” she asked, widening her eyes in an innocent expression. She squirmed again, eager to goad him into freeing his cock from his trousers and burying it into her.
He closed his eyes, and his muscles flexed along his jawline. When he opened his eyes, he glared at her. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, darlin’.”
“I do,” she insisted, glaring right back. “I want you… inside of me.”
He groaned and dropped his head back, staring up at the ceiling as though to implore the heavens for help with the trouble in his lap.
When he looked at her again, resolve had replaced the devilish look that had been in his eyes. He wrapped his hands around her waist. He lifted her off his lap and plopped her on the bed as though she were no heavier than a feather. Standing and taking a step away, he said, “I will make love to you, Willow, but not today.”
“But why not today?”
Instead of answering her question, he asked, “Who’s in charge here, me or you?”
She declined to answer, and instead spread the skirt of her nightgown over her bare knees.
Heath reached out and took hold of a tress of her hair. Gently he pulled his fingers through it, creating a tingle in her scalp. Gathering her hair at the nape, he enclosed it around his fist and tugged lightly, lifting her head up. She found herself staring into his eyes. “Well, darlin’? I asked you a question.”
“You’re in charge,” she said in a whisper, as a cozy warmth enveloped her.
“That’s right, and you prefer it that way, don’t you?”
She thought about what it would be like if Heath were like any of her hooligan friends on the street, with whom she’d been in a constant battle to establish dominance as a result of her female disadvantage. None of those men had made her heart flutter like Heath did. None had managed to make her feel safe and cared for. Though she didn’t understand the longings of her heart, she knew the truth.
“Yes, Heath. I do prefer for you to be in charge. I trust you.”
He smiled at her. “Good girl. Now get some sleep.”
Bringing Trouble Home (Lost and Found in Thorndale Book 1) Page 9
