by Renee Rose
“I will come tomorrow and ask Montpelier for your hand, as if he were your father. If he refuses, I will drag you out like a Viking claiming his prize and we can elope.”
She giggled and lifted her lips for another kiss. “Until tomorrow, then.”
He cradled the back of her head and gave her a kiss to remember. “Are you sure you want me?”
She smiled up at him. “I think I always have. Since that night in the woods when you let me lay my head on your shoulder to sleep.”
He kissed her again, then tipped her head to the side to speak low in her ear. “I should punish you for coming to see me when I forbade it.”
She promptly stomped on his foot.
“Ow!” he cried, releasing her. “You will require taming, will you not?”
She stepped back, her hands at her hips, color high on her cheeks.
“I cannot believe you wish to be spanked here, in the middle of my workshop, with Madame Montpelier’s carriage driver sitting out front.”
She looked uncertain, still backing away.
He could not help but smile, the thought of a lifetime of battling wills with Corinne too great a joy to play stern. “Do you, Corinne?”
“Of course I do not!”
“Then apologize and I shall forgive it this time.” He walked forward, slowly, giving her time to think.
She held her ground, though her chest heaved with breath. Taking hold of her shoulders, he walked her backward, then turned her around and placed her palms on his workbench.
“No,” she said.
“I require your obedience, Corinne,” he said, dragging up her skirts. “Is this not how we began?”
“If you have a switch, I shall stomp on your foot again,” she said, though her demeanor lacked confidence.
He ran his hand over her bared bottom. “I shall think of many ways to punish you, Corinne. We will explore them all. And sometimes you will find yourself over my knee for no reason other than that I want you there, and you must obey.”
Corinne looked over her shoulder and he saw heat in her eyes. He gave her bottom a pat. “Apologize, dearest.”
“I am sorry,” she mumbled.
“For what?”
“Stomping on your foot.”
“Good girl,” he said, smoothing her skirts back down. “Now go, before you become too much of a temptation and I take you right here on the workbench.”
She smiled, looking satisfied she had at least one way of manipulating him.
Epilogue
The Montpelier manor was packed with guests in masks. Their annual fête kicked off the pre-Mardi Gras ball season. Jean-Claude had been working day and night to complete a giant silver punch bowl and one hundred matching cups for Madame Montpelier and the lady had so talked about her grand set that every other lady in La Nouvelle-Orléans had placed their orders for replicas.
She scanned the throng for Jean-Claude. Even in a mask he should be easy to pick out with his broad shoulders and graceful carriage. She had refused to show him her gown or mask, going early to help Madame Montpelier and dress at their estate. With her hair tied back, she hoped he would not recognize her and she could spy on him to see how he fared with the dancing she had been teaching him.
“I never enjoy myself at a ball unless Garen is with me,” Madame Montpelier remarked, as if guessing the cause of her restlessness.
She sighed. “Well, I am learning to entertain myself, as my husband seems to think he must work all hours of the day.”
Madame Montpelier arched her brows. “Is he allowing his customers to set his pace? He does not have to do so.”
“No, he sets his own mad pace. He wants to provide me with our own home so we do not impose forever on your generosity.”
The Montpeliers had settled her and Jean-Claude in their city apartment, complete with servants. In truth, apart from never seeing her husband, she had not noticed any change in lifestyle when marrying into the middle class. Madame Montpelier’s connection kept her in the social circles, and her beautifully appointed apartment and staff kept her in luxury.
The older woman patted her arm. “It is admirable, but he needs to care for his wife, too,” she said with sympathy.
Her cheeks grew warm with thoughts of just how well Jean-Claude took care of her. His endless hours of work did not diminish his exhaustive interest in teaching her everything he knew about pleasure and quite a bit more about what it meant to belong to him.
“It is more that I wish to care for him. I have tried to help in his workshop, but at first he forbade me to pass any time there. After months of quarreling, he finally relented and installed a settee and rug in one corner so I may curl up with a book whilst he works. But he will not allow me to serve customers at the counter, and if I so much as pick up a broom to sweep, he has the apprentices running to snatch it from my hands.”
Madame Montpelier laughed. “He wishes you to remain a lady. Do not injure his pride by lowering yourself.”
She thought back to their first trek through the forest. She had been certain he had enjoyed humbling her then. And yet, perhaps he had not. Though he refused her complaints, he had still provided for her needs as best he could—even giving her food and going hungry himself.
A large hand slipped around her waist from behind. “Why are you not dancing?” her husband asked, the rich baritone of his voice warming her.
She whirled to face him. “How did you know it was I?” she demanded, stamping her foot. “Did I fool you for even a moment?”
Madame Montpelier tactfully disappeared.
“It is hard to tell with your skirts, but I do believe you just stamped your foot,” he said, his low voice a teasing threat. “You know I do not tolerate such behavior.”
She flushed with embarrassment and a shiver of excitement, stepping forward to lean her body against his.
“How could I not recognize the most beautiful lady at the ball?” he murmured.
She lifted her mask and beamed a smile at him.
“Are you going to make me dance now?”
She shrugged. “You are the master. But if you do not, I will insist on working the counter at your workshop. If you will not come to my environment, I will come to yours.”
He picked up her gloved hand and found the opening at the wrist, where he ran his thumb over her pulse. “You seem to forget… I am the master, which means if I forbid you to do something, you will not do it.” He spoke the last few words with a sternness that made her stomach leap. She had not encountered a serious punishment at his hands in their first year of marriage, but several times he had used a firmness she was certain he would back up, and she had not dared cross him.
Mostly he handled her with an amused authority, punishment always mixed with pleasure, so she came to believe he enjoyed her defiance.
“May I have this dance?” he asked with a bow.
Torn between kicking him and smiling, she pressed her lips together and did not answer.
“Please?”
She gave a huff of exasperation, taking his arm, smiling despite herself.
“If I make a complete ass out of myself, will you drag me out of here and send me home?”
“No, monsieur. If you make an ass out of yourself, it means you require more practice. I shall make you dance until the sun rises.”
He chuckled. “For you, madame, I will dance all night. But I will make you pay for it, later.”
Heat flooded her core. “I am counting on it.”
He led her to the floor and danced admirably, looking as comfortable as any gentleman there. When the music ended, he tugged her outside to the garden.
“Where are we going?”
“I have missed my wife,” he said pulling her toward the edge of the garden, beyond the lamplight.
“Where are you taking me, Jean-Claude?”
He stopped near a low wall, wrapping his arms around her and taking her mouth with a hungry kiss.
She laughed, pulling away. “Not
here, monsieur, you will cause a scandal!”
“We will have to be very quiet,” he said turning her around and pushing her torso down.
She gripped the wall for stability. “Jean-Claude!”
“Shh. Remember when I said I would take my wife any time and any way I pleased?”
“No, please, Jean-Claude,” she protested, though her heart pounded more from arousal than fear.
“You do not want a spanking out here, do you, love? They will surely hear the sound of my hand punishing your pretty little bottom.”
“You would not dare!”
He pulled up her skirts, parting the slit in the new drawers she had adopted wearing as part of the new fashion. He stroked his fingers over her slit. “You are already wet for me, darling.” His hand retreated, shocking her when it returned as a light slap right over her delicate sex.
She gasped. “Jean-Claude!”
“To whom does this little pussy belong?”
“To you!” she said quickly, but did not manage to forestall another slap. The sound from her lips was more wanton than protesting though, as her pussy suddenly burned with need. She widened her stance, hollowing her back to offer herself.
His fingers returned. “Good girl,” he purred. She heard the rustle of clothing and the head of Jean-Claude’s cock met her eager slit. He slapped her sex with his cock, making her giggle, then slid deep inside her.
“Oh, yes,” she sighed.
“You like my cock inside you, do you not, Madame Armand?”
“Yes, monsieur.”
“Say it.”
“I like your cock inside me!” she cried, the shameful words stoking her desire as much as the knowledge they might at any moment be seen by another guest.
Jean-Claude pounded into her, holding her hips and driving deeply until they both smothered their victory cries. He closed her drawers and smoothed her skirts, lifting her from the wall and turning her to face him. “What a good little wife,” he crooned, his arms wrapping around her to hold her close.
She beamed up at him, his praise a delicious elixir. “I adore being your wife.”
His expression grew serious, and he cupped her face in his hands. “You are everything to me. You know that, do you not?”
She nodded, warmth filling her chest. “Oui, monsieur. It is precisely what I love.”
He kissed her, his lips soft and tender, as if she were a delicate flower that might be crushed. “Another dance, Madame Armand?”
“You read my mind,” she said, beaming up at him and taking the arm he so gentlemanly offered.
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 Dom, 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.
Captured and carried off for questioning, she finds herself prisoner to Sir Ferrum, an enormous knight who bears the scars of an old injury upon his face. She finds Sir Ferrum to be firm and unyielding, but his treatment of her also reveals a gentleness which she has difficulty reconciling with his harsh discipline. To her dismay, her feelings for him continue to grow, and Dani must decide whether to continue her plans for escape or accept her new role as Sir Ferrum’s woman and Seer to the Red Fox.
Under Siege (Included in the book Lords and Ladies: Two Medieval Spanking Novellas)
For Lady Camilla, the only thing worse than managing Falconworth castle on her own would be her overlord discovering that she is a widow and marrying her off to his wretched nephew. Keeping her husband’s death a secret is a top priority, right up there with ensuring that troops from a rival castle don’t break down her curtain wall gate with their battering ram.
Yet when a devilishly handsome knight by the name of Sir Balen rides to her rescue, she is reluctant to turn over the control she has become accustomed to wielding. The attraction between them is palpable, but his arrogant assumption of the position and duties of her late husband irritates her, especially because those duties seem to include spanking her bare bottom!
Can she swallow her pride and propose the marriage which she knows would be best for all involved, or will her stubbornness cost her and the people of Falconworth dearly?
The Devil of Whiskey Row
Forced by miserable circumstance to work in a gold-rush brothel, Cora Underhill hates what her life has become. When a fire sweeps through, she welcomes death as an end to it all. But then Jake Diggory crashes through her window for an unwelcome rescue, offering her shelter a
nd a paid position at his establishment. She accepts, in spite of Jake’s fearsome reputation as ‘The Devil Diggory,’ and soon sees another side to Jake—the firm but caring side of him which led his girls to name him ‘Daddy Diggs.’
Life at Daddy Diggs’ is an entirely new experience for Cora. Jake has strict rules which he backs up with over-the-knee discipline, but he will not tolerate any mistreatment of his girls and he can go from playing beautiful music on a piano to defending them with his bare fists. The strangest thing of all, however, is the fact that every girl at Daddy Diggs’ swears that Jake has never slept with her, or with any other woman for that matter, since his fiancée’s death back in Ireland fifteen years ago.
The other prostitutes at Daddy Diggs’ enjoy the power they hold over men, enjoy making money, and even find pleasure in sex. Cora attempts to emulate them, but she still finds no pleasure in the company of men… until the day she inadvertently arouses the passion of The Devil Diggory and his fierce lovemaking thaws some frozen part of her. But it seems Jake is only attracted to her because she resembles his dead fiancée. Confused by his new feelings for Cora and guilt over his broken vow of celibacy, Jake pushes Cora away. Can he come to terms with his past and claim Cora for his own, or will his grief keep them apart forever?
The Westerfield Affair
Reserved to the point of being aloof, Lord Westerfield never attended balls or even considered taking a wife… until he met Miss Kitty Stanley and his orderly world turned on end. Determined to have the beautiful and animated sister of his friend from the gambling hall, but doubting his ability to effectively court her, Westerfield strikes a bargain with her brother for her hand.
When the gentlemen present Kitty with the deal, she is furious with them both for neglecting to consult her, but her brother insists he will withdraw his support if she does not comply. Angry, she acts out at a ball, causing a scandal that mushrooms further when Lord Westerfield drags her unchaperoned to his home for a firm spanking.
