by Jane Henry
Her hands fly to her face and she covers her eyes. “My lord!” she hisses. “Do not!”
Without another thought, I raise the brush and bring it slapping down again on her backside. She jerks, squirming from the pain with a howl of protest. “My lord!”
Whack!
“Aldric!”
I pause, brush raised midway. “Yes, sweetness?”
“I-I—this is—I’m mortified!”
I frown. “Good. You ought to be,” I say with another harsh snap of the brush on her backside. “Behavior as you’ve displayed today is befitting a naughty child, not the woman of the Warrior King.” I give her three more hard, punishing swats, waiting for her protest to die down, and when it does, I push the handle between her thighs again and open them. She mews in protest, but a quick flip of the brush and smack against her thigh has her opening for me. I take the brush handle and stroke the dampness between her inner thighs, then slowly penetrate her core with the handle, pushing until it’s fully inserted. She squirms. She was already aroused, near release, and I’ve no doubt she’s even more aroused than ever. I remove the handle just a bit, so that I’m barely at her entrance, before plunging it in again and twisting. I can feel her tension, feel her walls pulsing around the handle as I thrust it in and out. Her breath is shallow, her hands splayed out in front of her as she wiggles and squirms.
“My lord,” she pants. I pause, the brush frozen halfway in but no longer moving. She moans in agony, and I feel my hardened cock jerk underneath the warmth of her belly.
“Yes, my love?”
She doesn’t speak for a minute, frozen in place. “Please, my lord.” Her plea a mere whisper now.
I insert the handle so slowly as I speak to her. “Please what, my little one?”
“Pleeeease,” she moans, louder now, as I move the handle within her. “Oh, please.”
I freeze, my voice hardening. “Please what?”
She squirms. “Let me have my release!” she moans. “This is torture! I can’t bear this another minute! I’ll die if you don’t allow me release!”
I leave the tip of the handle on the damp edge of her folds. “Release, Carina? You wish me to pleasure you? A naughty, defiant girl like you?”
She moans. “I won’t be naughty,” she whispers. “I will obey you, just please allow me release. I can’t bear this!”
I remove the handle and turn the brush around so that the flat is against her skin again. My voice is harsh and corrective as I lift the brush. “Pleasure, little one, is for good girls who know how to behave themselves.” I crack the flat of the brush on her backside. She jerks from the pain of it, and I pause as I allow my words to sink in. “Obedience is rewarded,” I say, with another slap of the brush on her cheeks. “Defiance, however, will be met with consequences.” I puncture my words with another solid smack of the brush. “What is it you prefer, little one?” I ask, the brush poised, as I demonstrate her options. “Punishment,” a sharp crack landing on the tender place where her thighs and bottom meet, “or pleasure?” I take the handle of the brush and insert it, pumping hard and fast as she gasps and writhes.
“Pleasure! Oh, for the love of all things good, pleasure, my lord!” she screams, her back arching as she reaches closer and closer to orgasm.
I still. “Then what is it you need to do?” I scold.
She is panting now, her voice thick with arousal and need, “Obey you. Obey you, my lord! I am sorry for defying you. I will not defy you! I will obey you.” Her words tumble out, pleading for mercy, begging for release. I smile slowly, the warmth of her obedience to me spreading across my chest as my hardened cock presses into her soft, sweet belly.
“You will obey me, Carina?” I whisper, releasing her waist and grasping a fistful of her hair, lifting her head back as I bend my head down. “Will you do as I say?” She squirms on my lap, her eyes shut tight, her lip caught between her teeth, completely at my mercy. “Or shall I whip you harder? Is that what you need from me? A whipping from my belt?” She attempts to shake her head but it is difficult with the firm grasp I have her in. “Or will you obey me so that I may pleasure you?”
“P-pleasure,” she stutters. “Please!”
I release her hair and push her so that she is on her knees in front of me. Her eyes widen as she takes me in. Her hair is wild about her face, her blue eyes gleaming with passion and desire. I smile at her. She is exactly where I want her, ready to do my will, begging to please me. I take the brush and slowly run it through the hair that frames her face. Her eyes widen as I draw it through the midnight tresses slowly.
“Perhaps it shall be as it is at mealtimes,” I murmur, watching her heated eyes widen as I stroke her hair with the brush. “Perhaps I shall require my appetite be sated before yours. If I were to ask you to take me in your mouth, little one, would you?”
She nods, her voice husky as she replies. “Anything you wish, my lord,” she says.
“Even if I have you suck me until I spill in your mouth?” I tease, narrowing my eyes on her.
She licks her lips. My cock twitches in response. Her eyes lower. “It would be my pleasure,” she hisses.
With my left hand, I grasp her hair, tugging so that her chin lifts and her mouth drops open. “Even if I tie you to my bed and make you wait until the sun sets for your own release?”
Her eyes close briefly and she swallows, before opening her eyes and nodding to me. “Even then, my lord. I am yours. Yours to command. Yours to take at your leisure.”
I release her hair and drop the brush, reaching for my trousers and removing my cock. “Your obedience pleases me. Open your mouth.”
Her eyes wide, she obeys, and I do what I’ve longed to do. She takes my cock in her mouth, wrapping her pretty lips around me as I thrust so hard she braces herself, but she takes me fully, the feel of her warm mouth and tongue already bringing me to near orgasm. I close my eyes and allow her to pleasure me, leaning back with my knees spread open as she licks and sucks. “Good girl,” I murmur, stroking her hair. “Such a good girl. You will see how well I treat good girls.”
I enjoy her soft moans and sucks, watching as her heated eyes meet mine, no longer defiant but now split wide open, holding me in the fire of her gaze as her tongue does wicked, wanton things to me. I reach out a hand and stroke her hair as she sucks, smiling at her.
“Very good,” I say. On her knees, pleasuring me with her mouth, she is now submitted to me.
“Will I need to punish you further, sweetness?” I ask her, fully prepared to continue her punishment should she choose to defy me. “Or have you decided to submit to me?”
Her mouth slowly releases my cock. “I will submit, my lord,” she says, her voice low and sultry.
I cup her face in my hands, bending down so that she must look me fully in the eyes. “Then things are as they should be,” I whisper. I reach my hands lower and lift her to standing, guiding her to the bed, my hands pulling her tunic off and fully baring her to me. “On your knees. Chest down. Arms straight out in front of you.” I guide her into position as she obeys, falling to the bed prostrate. I spread her legs, and run my hand along her reddened backside, over the slightly raised marks I’ve given her. Her back arches. I draw my finger through her folds, as she moans. I remove my finger and give her bottom a swift slap. She moans again. She is perfect.
I come up behind her, grasping her hair in my hand, yanking her head back so I can whisper in her ear, “Since you are submitted to me, it is time for me to pleasure you, little one. Are you ready?”
Her eyes are shut tight, her chin in the air as I grasp her hair, her chest heaving with her mouth open. “My lord,” she gasps. “Yes, my lord. Please.”
Without further delay, I slip the head of my cock inside her warm pussy, nudging her open before I slide in fully. She is so tight around me, the feel of her in this position even more satisfying. She groans as I thrust with firm, purposeful strokes, one of my hands braced on her hip while the other delivers a modera
te but stinging swat. She yelps, unable to contain herself now as she writhes beneath me, her pleasure building.
“You will learn to submit to me, Carina,” I growl in her ear, plunging so deep I am fully within her now. She has stopped breathing, gasping for air, her fingers desperately clawing at the blanket on the bed. “You will obey me, or suffer punishment.” Another hard thrust and her head falls to the side as she pants, little mews of pleasure escaping her mouth. I am building, preparing to release, her supple body beneath me unbearably beautiful. “You are mine,” I growl as I topple over the edge at the same time she does, her screams of pleasure mingling with my growls. Her hips writhe, her fingers kneading the blanket. I shut my eyes at the intensity, her moans amping up mine.
She shoves her bottom against my flank and I hold her fast, my hands gripped so tightly around her waist I see fingerprint-shaped marks. I give her another hard slap of my hand as she continues to climax, marking her, reminding her, training her that this pleasure is only hers if she obeys me. She screams, and I don’t know if it’s from pain or pleasure but both are welcome, the emotions I’ve wrung from her my reward. A sob escapes, and I realize she is crying, her cheeks damp with tears, panting, still lying face down in front of me with me still plunged in her depths. She cries, and she cries.
Chapter Sixteen
Carina
I am rent open.
I have never cried like this before. Crying is discouraged on Freanoss, and part of me wonders at first if the way my body has been conditioned and manipulated also suppressed feelings, because never, ever have I felt like this. I hardly recognize the woman I am now. He’s taken me from aloof and detached to begging, the range of emotion I’ve experienced overwhelming, and when he finally granted me my release, it was exquisite. But there is more, so much more. He shifts up on the bed, and my fingers claw at him, grabbing him, needing him not to let me go.
“Hush, sweet one,” he says, running his large, rough hand over my hair. I am enveloped by his enormous arms, his hands gripping me so tightly I fear he will leave bruises, yet somehow it isn’t tight enough. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to explain what is going on with me. But somehow, I know that I don’t need to. He isn’t expecting me to.
He holds me until I am quiet, the only sound in the room my soft hiccups and his steady breathing.
“My girl,” he says softly. “This is hard for you.”
I merely nod, as he continues to stroke my hair, and the steady beat of his heartbeat beneath my cheek settles me.
“You are safe here, Carina.” I nod again. His hand travels down the length of my back to my bottom, cupping the warmed, stinging skin there. He squeezes gently. “It is in your best interest to obey me, and not simply because I’ll punish you if you don’t. You know that now, don’t you?”
Do I?
I do not respond.
“You will see,” he says. “Come here.” He puts his hands beneath my arms and lifts me so that my face is close to his, his eyes penetrating mine. His hand goes to the back of my head and he pulls me closer to him. I inhale and exhale, enjoying the feeling of intimacy as his lips meet mine. He pulls away, his eyes darkening as he looks at me. “Will you obey me today?” he asks, his voice taking on a stern edge. I swallow and nod. I will. I know I will. My desire to defy him has fled and I’m left only now with the unfamiliar desire to please him. His voice lowers as his mouth comes to my ear. “I wouldn’t want to punish you again.”
I squirm against him, curiously aroused by his words. It is unsettling to me, the power he has over me. “Yes, my lord,” I murmur. He pulls my head down to his chest and kisses my forehead.
“Stay here,” he says. “I will be right back.”
I reach for him, feeling immediately bereft as he leaves me, but he returns moments later with a damp cloth. He lies on the bed and holds me against his chest, drawing the cloth between my legs to clean me, then drying me with a second soft, dry cloth. A moment later, he reaches for the bell that sits next to his bed. I hear the musical tinkle as he draws the blanket over my naked form. Minutes later, a knock comes at the door.
“Come in,” he orders, his deep voice reverberating through my frame. I shiver. The door opens, and Lystava comes in.
“My lord?”
“Carina has had a difficult morning,” he explains. “Please fetch me the chamomilia.”
With a nod, she leaves, and I lay against Aldric’s chest, my dampened cheek against the roughness of his hair there, when I hear a knock again. She comes in the room, hands him something, and leaves swiftly. He lifts me up and props me up on pillows.
“Drink,” he orders, holding a steaming cup of liquid to my lips. I obey, taking a sip, the warmth flooding my senses. It is sweet and spicy. As soon as I sip, the stuffiness in my head clears, the pain throbbing between my temples mitigated. He takes the cup and places it beside him on the table. In his palm is a small golden tin. He twists off the top and dabs the tiniest bit of white cream on his finger, then reaches to my face, smoothing it along the undersides of my eyes. The pressure is relieved. I no longer feel swollen and out of sorts. I feel almost healed, but for the burn in my backside. As if reading my mind, he frowns. “The reminder of your spanking will stay,” he says. “You must remember to obey me.” He reaches for my neck and draws me close again, the feel of his whiskered mouth meeting my forehead in a kiss, making me shiver.
“Yes, my lord,” I whisper.
He picks up the hairbrush again and gestures for me to come to him as he sits up on the bed, placing me between his strong thighs. He brushes my hair slowly. It feels so nice, the tension seeping out of my body. I feel his fingers through my hair, pulling and tugging a bit. I am curious what he is doing, and turn my head to look at him, but he gently pushes my head so that I am staring straight forward again. I feel my hair caught in a band of sorts, tied back from my face. He’s fixed my hair. My rough, fierce, fearless warrior has fixed my hair for me.
“We must leave soon, sweetness,” he says. “But you will not depart from me today.”
His eyes grow stern and his lips thin. The man does not have to simply threaten punishment or force me to obey. For some reason I cannot quite fathom, my desire to obey him is strong, the mere thought of defying him unpalatable. It surprises me, as not an hour before I wanted nothing but to push him, to see how far I could, to defy him. Now, I desire nothing but to please him.
I cannot think beyond the present moment. I simply nod. I will not disobey him. “No, my lord. I will stay by your side.”
He raises a brow. “That was a question?”
I look down shyly, but he quickly tips my chin back up to him. His eyes are twinkling. The fierce warrior king is smiling? His lips are tipped up, his eyes merry. “You will see if you obey me that I can be quite nice when I am obeyed.”
I nod. “Yes, my lord,” I whisper, offering a small smile of my own. “It is that simple, is it? Just do whatever you say?”
He bends down to me, his mouth at my ear, the low whisper causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. “Yes, Carina. It is that hard, and that simple.”
Drawing back, his eyes probe mine, and I know not what he seeks, but he seems to have found it when he nods quickly. “Come, Carina. I have much to do today, and you must accompany me.” He positions me by his side and takes my hands, wrapping them around his muscled arm. I no longer walk with apprehension, but oddly, pride. I am his woman. I have no doubt that I belong to him, and despite the way I’ve been raised, despite my past and my inclinations, it is nice to be wanted by this man, to know that I am his to protect. The discarded member of Freanoss, the useless spy they have no use for, is no longer cast away. I do not feel as if I am his property. I feel I am his prize. The difference means everything.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To the marketplace,” he replies. “When we arrive there, no matter what happens, you are to remember that it is for your own good, and for the good of the Avalere.”<
br />
I look at him, feeling my brows pull together. What does this mean? “My lord?”
He frowns. “It is best you obey and not ask questions,” he says, as the doors open to his palace and the hot, bright sun beats down upon us. I can tell from where I am already that the marketplace is open for business today. I can see the people milling about, the tables laden with wares, and hear the clatter of voices and coins just beyond where we are. I walk in silence by his side, trotting quickly to keep up with his long, purposeful strides. He leads me to the table I went my first day here, teeming with jewelry, the gleam of precious gems and metals twinkling in the sunlight that dips below the tarp that shades the vendors from the sun’s blazes. The same woman is there, and as before, she kneels on one knee, her head reclined upon our entrance. I hear voices quiet near us. Though there seems to be a pretense of doing what is normal, there is an undercurrent of anticipation and awe. It is a bit unnerving, knowing I belong to the man who has this much power and sway.
Aldric nods to the woman, giving her leave to rise. “Have you completed the item I asked for you to make?” he asks.
She nods eagerly, rising and reaching under her table for a metal box. She inserts a key and unlocks it, retrieving a black pouch that looks soft and elegant. She hands it to Aldric, who inclines his head and thanks her. He places a large handful of coins in her hand.
Her eyes widen as she takes in what he’s paid her, and she begins to shake her head. “Oh, my lord,” she says. “I cannot take this much for one item. Surely it is four times the value of what I’ve made for you.”
Aldric casts her objection aside with a toss of his hand. “Take it,” he says. “It is worth that, and more.”
She looks troubled, as if it is against principle to take such a large sum. “But my lord,” she says. “I would feel as if I were robbing the royal purses if I—”
“Do you mean to contradict me, woman?” Aldric asks with a frown.
