by Renee Rose
“What do you think he’ll say?”
He shook his head. “I know not, honestly.”
A light knock sounded at the door. “Bear?”
She yanked the covers over her naked body. “Who is it?” she whispered.
Barrett looked taken off-guard. “My brother,” he murmured.
“Ask him now,” she urged in a low voice.
Barrett gave her an uncertain look, then leaped out of the bed and pulled on his hose and undershirt. “One moment, brother,” he called out, tossing her a chemise. “Stay there, under the covers,” he murmured, helping her into the shift and tucking the blankets around where she lay propped up in bed. He opened the door and stepped back to allow the prince to enter. Penrod scurried in behind him and built up the fire.
“How is she?” Erik asked in a concerned tone.
“Bruised, but safe, thank God,” Barrett said, pulling a chair to the side of the bed and offering it to the prince. He sat on the bed, stroking her leg over the blankets.
“Daisy, I do not mean to bother you if you are unwell,” the prince said kindly. “But I want to be sure I understand what happened this night.”
She nodded, drawing a breath. “Of course, my lord.”
“Can you tell me now, or do you wish to wait until the morrow?”
She plucked at her fingers, her heart beginning to pick up speed. Would the prince judge her responsible for the men’s deaths? She had intended their murder, after all.
Barrett must have seen her trepidation because he leaned forward and stroked her arm. “Do not be afraid of my brother. He is a fair and just ruler.”
She nodded, her gut twisting in knots. Slowly, she recounted her tale, which Barrett had not yet heard from beginning to end. She told them of her sisters’ deaths and her rape and escape to Hohenzollern. She admitted her plan to kill Wolfhart. Tears began to spill down her face. “I had changed my mind, I swear it. Please believe me. Father Albert had counseled me not to take matters into my own hands and I meant to heed his advice. I had gone to the chapel to speak with him again.”
“I believe you,” Erik said simply.
Barrett squeezed her fingers.
“And then, you must know the rest. Wolfhart found me in the chapel and tried to force himself upon me. When Father Albert tried to stop him, his men drew their weapons on him. And then Barrett came and ended it all.”
Erik nodded. “Yes, that is exactly how Father Albert told it as well, Daisy. Thank you for telling me in your own words. It seems a simple story: Wolfhart and his men tried to avail themselves of our women and were killed for it.” He started to stand, but Barrett stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Brother,” Barrett said, clearing his throat. He glanced at her, as if for support, and she gave him a little nod of encouragement.
Erik searched his half-brother’s face when Barrett hesitated.
“I wish to buy a plot of my own,” Bear said in a rush.
Erik said nothing for a long moment and she held her breath, waiting. “I will be sorry to lose you,” he said at last.
Barrett exhaled. “You will allow it?”
Erik gave a half-smile. “You are a free man. I doubt I or anyone else could stop you from doing something you wished to do.” He sighed. “I guess I always knew this day would come.” He looked at Daisy and smiled. “I didn’t guess you would leave me for a woman, though. I thought someone would make you a better offer, or you would stay in one of the castles you sacked with your mercenaries.”
Barrett squeezed her hand. “Daisy was my missing half,” he said, making her heart trill.
“Have you a plot in mind to purchase?”
Barrett shook his head. “Not yet. Mayhap they’ll sell off part of Hohenzollern’s holdings and I could build a structure.”
“If you’re going to build a house, would you consider the north fields of Rothburg? There’s eighty acres—that should be enough. Then you’d be close enough so we could call on each other to defend any attacks.”
Barrett looked elated. “Are you sure you can part with that much, brother? If so, I would gladly buy it from you. How much do you ask?”
Erik rubbed his stubbled face. “Consider it my wedding gift.” He smiled. “It’s my way of keeping you close.”
Barrett’s face reddened with emotion and he stood from the bed, clasping forearms with Erik, who also stood. “Thank you, brother. You honor me,” he said, bowing his head.
Epilogue
Daisy giggled and dashed ahead of her husband who thundered down the hall of their new home behind her.
Barrett caught her, as she knew he would, coming up underneath her and scooping her high into the air.
She shrieked like a child with fearful delight as he carried her, running, to their chamber.
“I told you to rest after dinner, did I not?” he demanded when they arrived inside.
“Aye, and I told you the garden should be weeded while the soil was still wet—ack!” She squealed as his huge palm landed on her backside.
“Little wife, when I give you a direction, I expect you to obey. And when you do not, you know perfectly well there are consequences.”
“I should think if you are so worried about my condition, you would not think of spanking me,” she said, placing her hands on her hips and attempting to look offended.
He swatted her again. “I’m not thinking of spanking you, I am spanking you,” he said, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and bending her forward while he landed several hard slaps to her backside. “Lift your skirts, little girl, and stand in the corner.”
She giggled, far more excited by his dominance than afraid. She loved to bait her bear, and gain some precious time alone with him, where she had his undivided attention. She stood in the corner, lifting her skirts above her waist.
“Hmm, which implement should I choose for a naughty wife?” Barrett said.
She peeked over her shoulder to see him standing in front of the box where he kept the little wooden paddle he’d made her, the strop—an old belt he’d shorted and split down the middle—the riding crop, and a wooden spoon from the kitchen. He picked up the strop. She ducked her head before he turned and caught her peeking.
“Come here, my naughty little wife,” Barrett said.
She turned to find him sitting on the bed, the strop in his hand. Despite the fact that she goaded him into this spanking, her stomach still did a somersault at the sight of him. In the two years since they’d married, she’d had every form of punishment out of him. Most were like this—he meant them, but his mood was light and they always included lovemaking.
A few times he’d been genuinely annoyed or angry with her. Those spankings were terrible. It wasn’t about how long or hard he spanked, but about her state of mind during the punishment. She would inevitably end up crying, sometimes even before he’d started. Barrett would make sure she did not sit comfortably for the next two days, then hold her and speak gentle reassurances until she knew he had forgiven her.
She stood in front of her husband now, her legs beginning to shake.
“Ah, now she takes me seriously,” Barrett said with a smirk. He tugged on her dress, which she still held up to her waist. “Take this off. I want you naked before me.”
She pulled off her dress and chemise and covered her belly with her palms. Her waist had only just begun to expand—it hardly showed in her clothes, but naked, the new shape stood out.
Barrett’s face went soft when he gazed at her. He pulled her between his knees and stroked her hips, bottom, and thighs. “How do you feel, really?” he asked, peering up at her face with concern. He’d been monitoring her like a hawk since the first day her courses were late. That day he’d forbidden her to return to her work in the garden, insisting she rest, instead. She had waited until he’d left and returned to her work, anyway.
“I am a little tired,” she admitted.
“You need more sleep. And more rest. I appreciate your willingness
to work so hard, but when I give an order to rest, I expect it to be obeyed.”
She wrapped her hands around his face and leaned down to kiss his head. “I love you,” she said softly.
He caught her hanging breast and squeezed it. “Over my knee, you naughty girl. I’m going to whip you and then I’m going to punish your bottom hole.”
She shivered with the combination of fear and excitement. She bent over his leg, resting her torso on the bed beside him.
He brought his hand crashing down on her upturned bottom in swift, firm strokes, warming her flesh and sending sparks of desire off in her core. “Naughty, naughty girl,” he said, continuing his steady beat.
As if preparing for her its own punishment, she felt each spank in her bottom hole, the jiggling and jolts going straight to her most vulnerable orifice. By the time he paused and rubbed her heated flesh, she was panting.
“Who is the master of this house?” Barrett demanded.
“You are,” she said, her words sounding muffled in the bedcovers.
“That’s right. So who gives the orders?”
“You do,” she said, then gasped as the first stripe of the strop licked across her buttocks.
“What happens if my naughty wife doesn’t follow my orders?” He brought the strop down a second time.
“She—I—get spanked,” she choked out.
“That’s right,” he said. He struck her again. “And I do enjoy spanking you.” He laid a fourth stripe below the first three. “But in this case,” he said, slapping the flexible leather across her burning bottom again. “I would have preferred you obey.”
“Sorry,” she wailed. And she already was. Pregnancy made her more sensitive and the strop hurt much worse than usual.
Barrett never stopped just because she apologized, or when she cried. He had his own criteria for deciding when she’d learned her lesson, and it was always long after she believed she’d reached that point. Indeed, he continued to strop her, tanning her backside with neat rows that ran from the middle of her buttocks to the backs of her thighs.
“Ow, Barrett, please!” she wailed, starting to scramble in panic.
He held her clamped tightly, still administering the leathering. “Who is your master?” he demanded again.
“You are!” she gasped in a rush. “You are my master.”
He continued spanking. “When I give you an order, what should you do?”
“Obey it! Obey it. Forgive me, my lord!”
She felt real tears threaten, her emotions always close to the surface since she’d been with child. What had begun as a fun spanking now had her genuinely remorseful.
As if Barrett knew, he stopped spanking and rubbed her tender flesh. “It seems you don’t take my discipline seriously,” he said.
“I do,” she sniffed.
He rubbed her back. “You’re a good, sweet wife and I know you’ll work hard to please me the next time I give you instructions, won’t you, Daisy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do I need to tell you what will happen to you if you don’t rest the next time I tell you to?”
“No,” she said. But then curiosity overcame her. “What will happen?”
“I will whip you at that moment. And then I will paddle you before bedtime. How do you think that will feel on an already sore bottom?”
She knew she must be blushing at his suggested punishment.
He rubbed her bottom. “Crawl up and lie on your stomach,” he said, his voice sounding rough.
She obeyed, a slow pulse beginning in her sex as she contemplated the next part of her punishment. Her husband arrived above her, naked, and covered her body like a blanket, his warmth cocooning her as he carefully held his weight off her. He kissed her neck and she pressed her bottom back, seeking more than the light touch of his cock between her legs.
He slid into her without requiring his hand to guide him and she groaned at the delicious pleasure. She’d been expecting her bottom hole punishment, so this reward came all the sweeter. He moved in and out, pressing his hips against her tender buttocks, shoving deeper, filling her completely.
She moaned at the exquisite pleasure of it. Her body had seemed ever-ready for sex since she’d been pregnant, and it seemed to be all she thought about. Their kitchen maid had told her if she craved lying with her husband during the pregnancy, it meant she carried a boy. She hoped so—the thought of a miniature Barrett running underfoot brought joy to her heart.
Barrett began to push more insistently, slamming into her on each upstroke.
She spread her legs farther and pushed back at him, her cries growing more excited.
Before either one climaxed, Barrett pulled out.
She groaned.
“Reach back and pull your naughty bottom cheeks open for your back hole punishment,” Barrett said.
Moisture seeped from her sex. She obeyed, reaching back to spread her cheeks for his plunder of her most intimate hole.
He rubbed the head of his cock, still slick with her juices, over her tight opening. “Take a deep breath,” he commanded.
She inhaled.
“Let it go and open for your master.”
She exhaled, willing all the muscles in her bottom to relax and allow his entry.
He pushed in, the head of his cock entering her.
She gasped at the intensity of the stretching, the feeling of fullness. The urgency to climax came immediately, from the very first in-stroke. “Please?” she begged.
“Not yet, naughty girl. I have to punish you thoroughly,” he said, though his own need was evident in his voice.
“Oh, please, Barrett,” she cried, fisting the covers, clenching her teeth in a silent scream of need.
He pushed in and out, torturing her with terrible desire, until she heard his breath grow ragged.
“Barrett, yes!”
“Good girl,” he said, burying his cock deep in her ass two more times before he let loose and came.
The muscles of her sex did not contract as they usually did during climax, but she experienced the after-effects just as if they had, her body turning to jelly, an overwhelming sense of bliss and relaxation pouring through every limb.
“Good girl,” Barrett crooned again, nibbling at her ear.
She sighed contentedly as he eased out and wrapped her up in his strong arms. “I love you, husband.”
“You are my everything, little Daisy. My entire world. I hope you always know that.”
She nuzzled against him, enveloped in his love. “I do, my lord,” she murmured, her eyes drifting closed for the nap Barrett had asked her to take that afternoon.
The End
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More Stormy Night Books by Renee Rose
Deathless Love
Kate Strand has always had a crush on Dominic, the owner of the club where her band plays, despite—or perhaps because of—the fact that he’s a vampire. But when he sniffs out her predilection for spanking and brings her fantasies to life one night, she falls head over heels. The trouble is, Dom is allergic to relationships, or so it seems.
Dom loves knowing how to turn Kate on and domination comes naturally to him. But he believes he likes Kate more than is good for either of them. In his mind, mortals and vampires don’t mix, and the best thing he can do for her is stay far away. But when another vampire targets D
om, Kate gets tangled in the dangerous web and Dom finds himself prepared to sacrifice his own life to save hers. Can he get her back alive? And if so, will they find a way to be together?
Pleasing the Colonel
Trapped in a crevice after a carriage accident, Amanda Downy is not sure whether she’ll ever see the light of day again. With her tongue loosened by a fellow passenger’s flask of brandy, she reveals several well-guarded secrets about her life as a governess at Colonel Watson’s residence, including the fact that she falsified her references to gain her employment.
The next morning Amanda is horrified when she finds that the passenger who saved her life after the carriage crash is sitting at the breakfast table at Colonel Watson’s estate, and it appears that he is the long-absent colonel himself! Amanda is certain that she will be immediately dismissed, but the colonel has a different sort of discipline in mind for her…
The colonel soon learns that in spite of the deceitful manner with which she obtained the position, Miss Downy is an excellent governess and is much loved by his children. After a firm dose of the leather strap on her bare bottom, he lets her know that she may keep her position as long as she is truthful with him in the future. As time passes, though, the colonel finds himself thinking of Amanda as he has not thought about any woman since his beloved wife passed away. Though he has no intention of ever marrying again, he cannot deny his growing need for her.
Amanda has a longstanding dislike for stiff military men, yet she warms to the colonel, discovering that underneath his gruff exterior he is kind and generous. As she wonders if the attraction is mutual, another suitor makes his interest known. Should she accept his offer? Or should she wait to see if the colonel will ever make his move?
The Knight’s Prisoner
Danewyn, a tavern prostitute, has always been cursed with the Sight—the ability to see into the unknown. It is a trait she has learned to keep hidden from others, but a moment of anger finds her blurting out a prediction about the Red Fox, the rightful king of Britain. Unfortunately, her prediction is overheard by one of the Red Fox’s men, putting her in grave danger.
