Innocence Enslaved

by Maddie Taylor

  “Lay your naughty behind across my lap, we’ll take care of this impudence right now and deal with the rest after you’ve collected yourself.”

  “You’d spank me in the middle of an argument?”

  “Did you not hear when I spoke of respect? Since you walked in you’ve been defiant, interrupted me, exercised that sharp tongue, told that ridiculous fib, and attempted to flee, all of that was before we addressed how you’ve gossiped. Can you honestly stand there and say that you don’t deserve a trip over my knee?”

  No, she couldn’t, yet she didn’t want to admit it.

  He patted his lap another time, silently waiting.

  She took a hesitant step forward. “I’m sorry.”

  “Too late.” He leaned forward and grasped her wrist, tugging her forward until the front of her skirt touched his knees. “Raise your dress and put yourself across my thighs.”

  Their eyes met and her cheeks flushed almost instantly. “I don’t want to.”

  “I wouldn’t think that you would. You are going to, nonetheless. It will go easier if you do it yourself. If I have to place you thusly, I will be most displeased.”

  She bit her lip as she considered his lap; the fine woolen trousers molded to his muscular thighs would make for a hard surface. He misunderstood her reluctance. Having been there before, she knew lying over his lap would make her stomach quiver and his warm hand on her bare bottom would make her squirm. She’d become aroused and very, very wet. How many times would he know of her lust and reject it?

  Dragging up her skirt in back was the first sign of her capitulation. Moving to his side and lowering herself into position without another word of complaint was the next. His legs moved, shifting her forward until her behind pointed directly upward and her feet left the floor. He laid a broad hand across her backside, resting it there for a moment. Vaguely, she noted it was almost large enough to cover both cheeks. The familiar ache made its presence known and she bit back a groan.

  “This is the third time in as many days that I’ve had to spank you.”

  “You didn’t have to, you chose to,” she snapped.

  His hand came down sharply. “That tongue of yours isn’t helping you.”

  “I’m sorry for gossiping,” she blurted out, “which you hate. Though it isn’t gossip to hear the truth about a man who did whatever he could for love,” she cried. “You are brave and honorable, and I know you have love in your heart. But you’ve buried it down deep. You can release it and entrust that love to me, Corbet. I vow I’ll keep it safe.”

  His hand began to move, brushing softly across her bare skin. With a feathery stroke, he glided his fingers across her bottom, from the high crest down to the crease near her thigh, then up along the cleft between the twin mounds. Once the circuit was complete, he mirrored its path on the other cheek as he began to speak.

  “Emilia, I mean this without guile when I say that I am truly touched by your depth of feeling and promise we will address that in time. However, the matter up for discussion now and the reason you are about to be spanked—apart from your behavior in this study—is that I am adamantly opposed to gossip. No good can come of carrying tales behind others’ backs. Lancore runs rampant with gossip that is often harmful. Many an innocent man and woman have been condemned on the basis of rumors and untruths. I will not have it in my household. Muriel knows that and will be dealt with later. You are mine to see to and you will learn this lesson here and now. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Her response came quickly although she listened with half an ear, so distracted was she by his roving fingers.

  “Good. This lesson won’t need repeating then. I expect you to remain still and take your spanking without a fuss.” With that, his hand rose and fell, connecting with a loud crack that echoed through the study. Before she had time to process the sting, he lifted it and brought it down again. It made her realize what had occurred in the barn had been mild as he’d said, because this burned like fire, and it didn’t abate as he spanked her over and over.

  “I’m sorry,” she howled after a good dozen blows.

  “I’m sure you are,” he replied as he moved from one cheek to the other, covering every inch. “Maybe the next time you are tempted to gossip about me, or anyone, you will remember how your backside feels at this moment.” He stopped, but he wasn’t through. The brief pause was to adjust her body, propping her hips higher so as to concentrate the swats lower. He applied his flat palm to the crease between her cheek and thigh, landing crisp blow after blow, the force making her round behind jiggle. The motion sent vibrations straight to the pulsing nub at the front of her sex.

  She tossed her head back and uttered a low groan that she hoped he didn’t hear. As always, her luck was bad. Silence abruptly encompassed the room as his spanking hand came to rest on her hot cheeks. The one at her waist gripped her more firmly while the tips of his fingers curled into her hip. She tensed, her body rigid as she awaited his reaction.

  “Spread your legs.”

  That he should require her to do so stunned her. She jerked her head around to gape at him. “But why?”

  Brown eyes gleaming with need met hers. “Because I am the master here, and I told you to.”

  Biting her lip, she faced forward, although when it came to parting her legs, she hesitated.

  Four more swats landed in the middle of both cheeks. She gasped as the jolts shoved her mound and her aching nub up against his hard thigh.

  “Now, Emilia.”

  She inched her legs apart, knowing what he would find.

  “You’re drenched. Do you enjoy a spanking so much?”

  “Yes,” she admitted on a sob, “because it is from you. I know it’s wanton, yet I can’t help it. I love you, Corbet, and I want you to make me yours, in every way.”

  His grip loosened. He lifted her and flipped her over, his hands spreading wide on each side of her head, as he leaned in close, a swirl of emotions in his eyes. “Sweet siren, what you do to me. In the midst of a lesson, your call lures me in. Your scent tempts me and your unguarded desire makes me hard. I’m known to be a controlled man, yet I lose it all with you.”

  His lips so close to her own when he spoke made her long for only one thing.

  “I want you to lose control, Corbet,” she managed to stammer, her heart pounding like mad.

  “Heaven help me,” he murmured huskily, “I can’t resist.”

  His lips covered hers with a kiss so passionate, it stole her breath. His tongue swept out seeking entry, which she quickly accommodated with a long moan of approval. Her mouth opened wide beneath his, making her forget the sting of her spanking and she wrapped her arms around his neck with abandon. His arm slipped to the small of her back, pulling her tight while the other rose, his hand cradling her head as he continued to hungrily devour her lips.

  His mouth felt so good, so perfect covering hers. He groaned, sending sweet vibrations flowing through her. She shifted herself enough to press her breasts into his chest, rolling on a hip until her mound pressed along the hard bulge in his braes. His hand slid to her bottom and grabbed a handful of heated flesh.

  Images of him lifting her astride him, freeing his engorged shaft, pressing it between her swollen lips and into the channel that wept for him, preoccupied her thoughts. The erotic vision incited a deep, carnal moan. He growled in response, pulling away reluctantly, leaving them both panting as her eyes fluttered open. Desire and lust flickered in the golden brown depths and the wetness of their kiss glistened on his lips, inciting an intense crave to lick them.

  “Corbet,” she panted as she leaned forward to do so.

  “Shh,” he replied, pulling his head back and closing his eyes. His hands moved so that he was cradling the small of her back, instead of kneading her aching bottom or threading through her hair, both of which she preferred. “Give me a minute to calm down,” he explained, his usually smooth voice gruff from passion. Much like her own body, his betrayed him, his rigid
length pressing into her thigh. She whimpered, squirming on his lap and pushing her pelvis against him.

  “That’s not helping,” he warned.

  “I’m not trying to help. Take me,” she entreated hoarsely.

  “No,” he denied, the tender resolve in his tone returning. “I called you in here to discuss your behavior, not dishonor you without having vows between us.” He lifted his head slowly and she could see his unyielding resolve. “Tomorrow we leave Lancore—”

  “And you’ll take me home never to see me again,” she cut in, so dejected she couldn’t hide her misery.

  He pinched her hot bottom lightly. “There you go interrupting. I’m not sure where we’ll go, but it will be safe.”

  “What? If not at home, where will I live?”

  “With me, so you’ll see me every day.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I can’t fight this anymore.” He took her hand and pressed it to the hard bulge at her hip. “Feel this? Don’t ever accuse me of not wanting you. I want you so badly, I am willing to give up everything that I have to possess you; not as a slave owner, however, as a husband.”

  “Corbet,” she asked in wonder. “Truly?”

  “Yes, I want you as my wife, Emilia.”

  She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing kisses to his jaw. “I will be the best wife ever. Loving, caring, obedient.”

  He chuckled. “Here now, let’s not promise something that you can’t possibly deliver.” His hand dove into her hair and pulled her head back, his golden gaze meeting hers with incredible heat. “I’ll count on the first two and work on teaching you the third.” His hand curved around to her behind to give her a little pat. “Be prepared to spend considerable time over my lap if you’re a slow study.”

  She wiggled, pressing back into his hand. “I can live with that, sir.”

  He chuckled at the same time he lifted her. As he set her on her feet between his legs, her skirts fell to cover her. Gripping her hips to hold her still, he ordered without much bite, “Stop that. I intend to have a virgin bride on my wedding night.”

  “Yes, sir. Will you kiss me once more?”

  “Siren, what did I just say?”

  “As a betrothal kiss. Since I didn’t know before, even though you did, it didn’t count. So that is what this is, isn’t it?”

  “I’ll pretend to understand that scramble of words.” As he stood and looked down, she tilted her head back and beamed up at him. “You’re very pleased to have gotten your way, aren’t you?”

  She flushed, then shrugged. “I’ll make sure you are pleased that I’ve gotten my way, as well. I love you, Corbet, and I’m going to teach you how to love again.” She wrapped her arms around his lean waist and hugged him tight.

  His lips brushed the top of her head and warmth filled her chest when he sighed into her hair, “I believe you already have, little one.”

  His hand cupped her chin and angled it up for his kiss. Gentle and much too short, he ended it quickly and set her away from him.

  “Enough of that, or we won’t be on the road as I’ve planned. We have a hundred other things to do before that can happen.”

  “I’ll work hard and help Alice to make sure everything’s ready on our end. No more slacking off by the river for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Um, nothing.”

  He grinned. “Too late, yet again. I know all about you slacking at your duties as a laundress. For shame.” He caught her lips in another brief kiss while he captured her behind in both hands and gave it a squeeze. The whimper that slipped out wasn’t one of pain.

  “Tender?”

  She shrugged, admitting nothing.

  “The tin of cooling cream is on my nightstand.”

  “No!” Her emphatic denial made him chuckle at her response. A thought occurred to her, then. “Why did you bring it in?”

  “A certain troublesome slave in my household made me think it might be needed.”

  She pouted, although she wasn’t really offended, too blissfully happy to be upset. He didn’t seem to mind either, more concerned about her distended lower lip, enough that he dipped his head and caught it between his teeth. The little nip he gave her grew into another sultry kiss. It could have gone on indefinitely, if not for the hurried knock on the door.

  “Master Corbet,” Charles exclaimed, barging in without waiting for permission. “Trouble’s brewing.”

  “What is it?”

  “Lord Ervin. He’s headed this way and riders from the northern road report Arthur Mooney is with him.”

  “What does he want?” Emilia cried, panic rising with her voice.

  Corbet’s arms slipped around her in a reassuring hug. “Please see that any overt signs of our impending trip are out of sight, Charles.” He then turned to her. “Don’t panic. A visit from Ervin is never a good thing, and with Mooney in tow, I have a feeling there’ll be trouble. Do you remember the rules I taught you for our trip into town?”

  “Yes, don’t speak, don’t make eye contact, kneel and submit.” She gripped his forearms, icy fear twisting around her heart. “I’m afraid.”

  “I know, sweetling,” he replied, holding her tight. “I’d spare you this if I could, but it’s far too late. We’ll do what we must to get through this meeting and by this time tomorrow, we’ll be out of Ervin’s reach.”

  “I pray you are right.”

  “They’re rounding the bend, Master Corbet,” came Charles’ faint cry from outside.

  “Heaven have mercy,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his doublet.

  “Emilia, as a girl, did you play make believe?”

  Startled by the bizarre question at such an odd time, her head came up. “Yes, but—”

  “That’s what will occur here today. I’m the master and you are my pleasure slave. We need to lay it on thick, little one, and you must follow my lead. Know as you do, even if I seem harsh and cruel, that it is only make believe and that I love you.”

  She blinked up at him, tears trailing down her cheeks. “I trust you, master. And knowing that I have your love and that tomorrow we’ll be together forever, I can endure anything.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The black lacquered carriage came to a stop in front of the house. Corbet waited stiffly on the porch, not at all surprised when Lord Ervin stepped down. He looked like a stuffed peacock in his too-tight blue velvet pants and a matching overcoat with tails, his high-collared white ruffled shirt drawing attention to his double chin, and atop what he knew was a balding head sat a ridiculously effeminate fancy black hat. He swung a white-tipped cane as he moved out of the way and let a second man in the carriage alight. Corbet’s fists clenched with barely contained rage as Arthur Mooney, a supposed gentleman of Lancore—that was a joke, as if such a thing existed—descended the steps behind him.

  He glared as his longtime neighbor, a friend to his late uncle, he had dined in the Mills home on many occasion. Of late, with a failing sheep farm and wool business, he’d shown his true colors. The worm would betray his own mother if it would keep him in good standing with the earl, or earn him a few coins.

  “To what do I owe this displeasure, lord and gentleman?” His words and tone carried a blatant dislike that he didn’t try to mask as he addressed them.

  “Now, now, Mills. Is that anyway to greet a longtime family friend and your liege? You’re fortunate I do not require you to bow and show your obeisance.”

  “I’ll bow to my god and my king, in that order.” Corbet didn’t mention the latter was only out of respect for the throne; no sense in being accused of treason in addition to whatever else they had planned today. “No other man,” he added, “has earned that honor.”

  Ervin flushed with anger at the lack of respect Corbet continued to show him. It had always been this way between them. And although he knew he risked his wrath, he refused to show deference to the man he knew, but could not prove, was responsible for Sara’
s cold-blooded murder.

  “I’ve learned that you’ve taken a pleasure slave, Mills.”

  Mildly surprised that he got right down to business, his concern became sickening dread as he revealed his keen interest in Emilia.

  “You have had only service and house slaves up until now. Some concerns have been brought forward that you may be too enamored of her to deal with her properly and that may be the reason she was able to escape you in town the other day. I am here to ascertain if these charges are valid.”

  Corbet’s accusatory gaze shot to Mooney. The fat man squirmed and started to sweat profusely beneath the condemnation of his glare.

  “Arthur was merely doing his civic duty,” Ervin stated, confirming he had been the one to bring the charges. “Spare him your fulminating glares. Take me to her and I will complete an inspection of your new purchase. If your treatment of her after an escape attempt is deemed insufficient, I am prepared to take charge of her in your stead.”

  “I paid a healthy sum for her, and although she has been bothersome in these early days, I am teaching her to obey. She was punished publically the night before last, received another yesterday, and your unannounced arrival has interrupted the third such chastisement in as many days. As for your taking charge of her, I think not. I don’t want to have to start over with another. I plan to keep her.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Take me to her.”

  “As I mentioned, we are in the midst of a punishment session, I’d prefer—”

  “I care not at all what you prefer, Mills,” the self-important nobleman barked. “Arthur and I will watch and critique. The entertainment will make our trip to the country worthwhile.”

  Corbet hesitated too long for Ervin’s liking, for he flicked his hand to one of his guards, who stepped forward with his hand on the hilt of his sword.