His Defiant Wife, the Adventures of Linnett Wainwright, Book 2

by Vanessa Brooks

  John grinned. He knew that his wife had planned to be noble and silent during her spanking but he also knew she was too damned wilful. Linnett needed to learn that there would be consequences every time she disobeyed him. John had to admit that he enjoyed spanking his wife. John loved the way the flesh of her pretty bottom shivered as he spanked the bouncy cheeks of her delectable derriere.

  John also thought that perhaps Linnett needed the release of a spanking to cry about the child she had given up. It was not a long spanking however because John was so delighted that his wife had come so obediently across his knee. Perhaps this might be a turning point for them both and his wife would be more obedient from here on in.

  Soon Linnett’s wails turned into earnest sobs and John tipped her upright, into his loving arms. He smoothed her hair away from her hot, wet tearstained face. He kissed away her tears and held her safe in the circle of his arms.

  Finally, John wiped Linnett’s wet cheeks with his thumbs. “It looks as though I shall just have to give you a baby of your own to play with. Would you like a baby, my dearest girl?”

  Linnett’s mouth curved into a sweet smile, “Ohh...I should adore a baby John! I expect you would want a son?”

  John’s eyes twinkled, “I would love a son....or a daughter, but what I shall really enjoy is conceiving one with its very beautiful mother!”

  John lowered his head and kissed her with all the passion of a man who has abstained for a number of days. Linnett clung to John, amazed by the desire she felt for this man who had just spanked her. They tipped sideways onto the bed entwined together, and Linnett prayed that their lovemaking would bear fruit.

  The days passed in a whirl of activity, there were so many preparations to make before the snows came. Both of them were so tired when they fell into bed at night that all thoughts of making babies were forgotten.

  The day came when they awoke to a white covering of powdery snow. Linnett was thrilled with how pretty everywhere looked. The air had a scent to it that only a fall of snow can produce, sharp, clean, brittle and bright.

  After the animals had been seen to, they went for a walk together. “We won’t be able to walk through the snow soon, not when it falls heavily,” John told her. “It will be far too deep and very, very cold.”

  Linnett skipped ahead of him and gathered up a handful of the soft snow, throwing it at his head but hitting his chest. John charged after her and there followed a fierce snowball fight which left Linnett gasping for breath from giggling so much. They trudged home, wet, tired, and blissfully happy.

  During the next few weeks, the weather became freezing, and thick snow covered the ground. As John had predicted, the snow was so deep it was difficult to walk at all, even over to the barn to tend the animals. John struggled daily to see to their needs and kept clearing the never-ending falls of snow from the path he had dug to the barn and outbuildings. Despite the struggles, Linnett was enjoying the closeness brought about by the harsh weather, and the covered landscape was stunning in its cloak of dazzling white.

  Inside the cabin it was always cosy, and the aromatic smell of Linnett’s daily baking wafted through the warm indoor air. The fire was kept constantly in, giving a cheerful glow to the small abode, and the thick snow on the roof insulated the cabin from the worst of the cold. The evenings were spent happily in front of the fire when John would read aloud to Linnett or he would continue her lessons in the game of chess. He had started to teach her on the ship, but it had been some time since their last lesson and Linnett had forgotten many of the moves. John had to begin again and teach her from scratch once more.

  He watched her as she frowned in concentration, her teeth catching her bottom lip. Her lovely thick hair swung loose as she moved forward to place her bishop in jeopardy, and her hair caught the light from the fire, turning the silken locks into liquid gold. John’s eyes travelled downwards to the soft swell of his wife’s breasts, and all at once he wanted the game over. He moved his queen out and took her bishop.

  Linnett flung up her hands and sighed, shaking her head. “I’ll never understand the moves that each piece can make!”

  John moved the board aside and stood behind her. “You will, given time. You already know most of the pieces. I am very impressed with how quickly you’ve mastered the game, my love.”

  John bent forward and kissed her neck, running his hands through the soft honey gold of her hair. He slid his hands down, cupping her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Linnett turned her head and met him in a lingering kiss. John pulled her to her feet and sat on the chair, trying to pull her onto his knee but instead Linnett slid to the floor and knelt between his parted knees. She placed her hand over the swelling in his groin. “Hmm..have you another sort of game in mind perhaps?” Linnett giggled.

  “Most certainly, my love. I think you need much more tutoring in the art of pleasing your husband.”

  Linnett cocked her head to one side. “Really?” Her hand slid boldly downwards, massaging the hardened bulge inside his breeks. John pulled her hand away and loosened his breeches, releasing his throbbing organ. He guided Linnett’s head downwards towards his groin.

  Linnett understood what it was he desired from her and without hesitation took his firm shaft into her mouth. John cradled her head in his hands, groaning in pleasure and wondering how long he could withstand the waves of exquisite pleasure that the suction of her mouth was creating. Jerking suddenly, he was almost unable to contain the rush of release. He yanked Linnett away before it was too late and she gave a soft, deep chuckle, revelling in her power to arouse him to such a fever pitch.

  Swiftly he turned Linnett away from him and pushed up her skirts, uncovering her long slender legs and creamy bottom. John fondled and parted her between her legs, his fingers readying her, reducing her to a quivering wetness. With a sharp tug backwards he pulled her down onto his lap, impaling her with a quick upward thrust. Linnett gasped as she sat back and felt him sink deep within her soft flesh.

  Holding her firmly, with both his hands either side of her waist, he lifted her up and lowered her again onto his thrusting shaft. He pushed himself deep up inside her slippery mound until Linnett was moaning and writhing with her head flung back against his shoulder.

  John took his hands from her waist and lifted them to the fastenings at the neck of her gown. He unlaced the front of her dress and her breasts spilled into his waiting palms. John teased and tormented her aching nipples, and Linnett began to gyrate on his lap, abandoning herself to the delicious sensations that were flooding through her body.

  John lifted Linnett up and off him and held her high in the air, turning her so that she faced him, and then lowered her slowly back over him, letting the erect length of him slide back into her wet and welcoming womanhood. Linnett shivered as she felt him slide up slowly inside her once more, deeply filling her, pleasuring her. He lowered his face to her bosom, suckling first one breast and then the other, biting and nipping each budded nipple in turn.

  Linnett wound her arms around his neck and he raised his head to kiss her, stifling the little cry she made as he moved his hips more demandingly. John’s tongue moved in and out of her mouth, matching the steady rhythm of his internal onslaught. Linnett threw back her head, arching her back as John increased his tempo.

  Suddenly, they were both thrown to the floor as the chair gave way beneath them. They clutched one another, rolling away from the chair and giggling helplessly. Linnett lay on top of John. He raised himself up and gently smoothed the snarled mop of hair away from her face.

  Linnett lowered her head to John’s lips, and his hands held either side of her face, stopping her hair from falling forward. His thumbs caressed her cheeks as they kissed languorously. Their passion rekindled, Linnett slid down the length of his hard body and sat astride him. Then, raising herself above his staff, she lowered herself onto him, enjoying the moment of entry and slipping down him slowly until he filled her completely.

  Linnett rode h
im hard as John grasped her waist, grinding himself upwards into her yielding softness. The exquisite sensations building within Linnett flooded through her, finally exploding into a kaleidoscope of fathomless delight. John gave one last deep thrust, convulsed with a shout and relaxed into a shuddering release.

  He pulled her down to lay beside him, his arm circling her, his hand cradling the back of her head. Gently, John stroked his wife’s hair, letting the burnished curls slip through his open fingers. When he could speak again, he whispered into her ear, “Your secret is out Mrs. Foster! You are nothing more than a wicked hussy!”

  Linnett gave a low throaty chuckle and turned her head on his shoulder, giving him a soft nip with her teeth. John wrapped his arms tightly around her and she shivered, saying, “Ooh it’s turned so cold!”

  John lifted her up onto the bed. “Tuck your hands under my arms.” Linnett did as she was bid and pushed her hands deep into his arm pits, which were cosily warm. John held her tight and wrapped the covers close about them, and gradually Linnett grew warmer, savouring the delicious heat and security of her husband’s loving arms. They gazed into the hypnotic flames of the fire before drifting off to sleep, still entwined.

  CHAPTER 6

  One morning a few days later, Linnett woke very early while it was still dark. The mornings were dark until much later now; after all, it was mid-winter. Linnett lay listening to the familiar sound of John breathing. As she snuggled back down drowsily into the warmth of the bed, she heard a noise outside the cabin. Linnett froze, alert now, and she listened hard – nothing. But then she heard it again, an odd, scraping sound. Was it Indians?

  Linnett put her hand out and patted John’s back.

  “Mmm...what is it?” John mumbled, still half asleep.

  “John! Wake up!” hissed Linnett urgently. “Listen!”

  The scraping noise started up once again as they lay still, listening intently.

  “Stay here,” John whispered as he rose from the bed.

  “No, I am coming with you!” Linnett said and hastily scrambled after him.

  John went to the fire, throwing more wood on and lighting a taper for the lantern, which he handed to Linnett.

  “Alright then, you hold that for me, but if I tell you to bolt the door, you do it immediately. I mean it, Linnett, immediately!”

  Linnett trembled. “Yes, but why?” she asked.

  “Linnett, even if I am outside and I shout to you to bolt the door, just do as I tell you with no arguments!” John reached out and traced his finger lightly down the side of her worried face, and his voice softened slightly. “I am sure it will be alright, my love; I am just being cautious. Probably a hungry wolf out there, scratching its back on our cabin wall that’s all!” John pulled on his boots and reached for his coat and muffler.

  He took down the musket and primed it. Linnett stood and watched him, shaking with cold and fright. “Be careful, John. Perhaps we should just wait until it is light?”

  John shook his head. “No, I would rather take a quick look outside now.”

  He went to the door and put his ear to it, listening, but the sound outside had stopped. Cautiously, he opened the cabin door and stepped out. Linnett stood in the doorway and held the lantern high, its flickering light turning the white snow to yellow. John walked out a little way from the cabin, stood still and looked both ways along the side walls. “I can’t see anything out here - but wait a minute!”

  He bent down on one knee, studying something in the snow.

  “What have you found?” called out Linnett anxiously.

  John straightened up with a look of terror on his face and immediately started to run towards the cabin. “A bear, Linnett! The door....shut the door!” he shouted.

  There was a terrible snarling roar and a huge black bear lunged from around the corner of the cabin. John was already halfway inside the doorway when the bear slashed at him, knocking his legs out from under him. He fell to the floor with a yell. Linnett, dragging at his arm, tried to pull him into the safety of the cabin. She was sobbing with fright, and the bear was so near, she could smell its foetid breath. The creature raised a paw and slashed at John’s leg once again, and John screamed out in agony.

  Linnett, galvanised by the terrible sound, rolled and dragged John inside the cabin; she was fighting the bear for her husband’s life. The bear lunged forward and Linnett reacted instinctively, punching the animal hard on the end of the nose, a direct hit above the creature’s snarling jaw. There was a split second of stunned surprise on the animal’s face, whereupon Linnett managed to slam the door shut and throw across the heavy bar.

  For a terrifying minute or two, the bear battered at the door, raging with growls and snorts. Finding that this achieved nothing, it finally seemed to grow bored and gave up, lumbering off into the darkness. John lay writhing on the floor in agony. His leg was a bloody mess, his breeches in tatters.

  Linnett, shaking and sobbing, ripped a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around him. “Can you move, John?” she asked. John shook his head slightly, his eyes tight shut and his face white. “Water...” he whispered. Linnett spun away quickly returning with a ladle of water which she held to his lips.

  “John, I will make you as comfortable as I can but then I must tend to your wounds.” Linnett remembered Nat telling her that bear scratches were poisonous and the best cure for them was to wash them in alcohol. Linnett then placed a pillow under John’s head and left him where he lay.

  She heated some water, gathered up some clean cloths and picked up the bottle of whisky that John had brought with him from Mr. Penman’s shop. Linnett poured an equal measure of whisky to hot water and hoped that was enough; she had never seen a wound like this before. Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, she cut away what was left of John’s breeches.

  John was floating in and out of consciousness, his mind a fog of pain. Linnett tore up a sheet ready to use as bandages, finally she was ready and began to swab out the dreadful wound. John gave an agonized yell and thankfully passed out. Linnett worked quickly before he should regain consciousness; she saw that whole lengths of flesh were hanging loose from his leg. She cut the smaller shreds of flesh away while placing the larger pieces back into place as best she could.

  Finally satisfied that the wound was clean, she bound his leg up firmly with the strips of clean sheet. She cleaned the blood from the floor and from her hands. Stripping off her nightgown, which was covered in blood, she replaced it with a day dress. She wrapped John warmly with quilts and stood the pail full of its gory contents in the corner of the room. She felt sick but she knew she couldn’t venture outside with a bear in the vicinity and so she fought the sickness off and lay down on the bed, shivering violently with shock.

  Only an hour ago they had lain in this very bed, safe and warm together. If only John had listened to her and not gone outside. She had trusted his judgement but look what had happened. Linnett had believed John knew what he was doing when he had ventured outside. Oh why had she put such trust in him?

  Round and around in her head the jumble of confusing thoughts went until eventually, unbelievably, she must have slept for she woke to bright light of day and a thin voice calling her name. John was awake but in a great deal of pain. Linnett checked his swathed wounds and found that they were still seeping blood.

  “John, do you think you could make it up to the bed?” she asked him. “We can but try,” he returned bravely. Linnett hooked her arms under his and pulled him up to a sitting position, John’s face ran with perspiration and his teeth were gritted with the effort.“Are you sure that you can do this? Would you rather stay here on the floor as you are?” Linnett inquired, worried it would be too much for John but he shook his head. “No, on both counts. I can’t stay here on the floor, for one thing my back is hurting like the very devil and another I am blocking the doorway. Let’s just get this over with.”

  Linnett nodded and tucking her hands under his arms struggled to get him to h
is feet but she did achieve it. John swayed alarmingly and lent heavily on Linnett. They made slow progress over to the bed. As they reached the bedside John sank down gratefully and Linnett let him rest for a second or two before lifting his legs up onto the bed, she was very anxious. John lay there, breathing heavily with his eyes closed, his face as white as the sheet he lay on.

  Gently Linnett placed a pillow beneath John’s head and drew the covers up over him. “Would you like a drink?” she asked as she smoothed the dark hair away from his forehead. With a slight movement John shook his head. “No, just sleep,” he mumbled, not even opening his eyes. Linnett frowned, concerned. “Are you are sure? I will go and tend to the animals and when I come back, you must have something to drink, John. I will tend to the dressing on your leg as well.” John merely managed to grunt, his eyes still shut.

  Linnett watched him for a little while and then satisfied that he was sleeping, she built up the fire, put water on to heat for washing and ate some bread and milk. She wasn’t particularly hungry but knew she must keep up her strength. Wrapping herself warmly, Linnett took one last look at her husband before setting off to tend the animals in the barn. Closing the door behind her she turned and the sight that confronted her made her gasp.

  The snow was splattered with John’s blood from the bear attack. There was so much of it, Linnett saw with dismay. No wonder John was so weakened and ill, not simply the terrible wounds but also the loss of blood. Linnett fetched a shovel and cleared the bloody snow as far from the cabin as she could, throwing it under trees and piling fresh snow over the reddened snow to cover it. She didn’t want the smell of blood attracting any more predators.

  Linnett noticed the musket lying in the snow where John had dropped it the previous night; she picked it up and kept it close to her side, while she made her way to the barn. There had been no fresh snow falls since John had last cleared a path, so the going was relatively easy, although still very slippery.