Things had changed now though. Carlton was finally home, working in the states, and they had been living together for nearly two months this time. They each had their own selfish reasons for staying married, but at least they each knew where the other stood. They had always known. Their commitment to making their marriage work despite its unusual beginnings had, prior to now, taken little effort on their parts.
The last few months? Well, they had certainly been an adjustment. And, Cecily grumbled to herself, the book had helped. Even by just giving them a fantasy to act out, a role to play. Something to make their sex life less tedious and awkward. The truth was, until Carlton had happened upon her reading her mother’s latest book, and taken an interest, reading it himself the next night, their sex life had been as non-existent as their meals together. In three years, they had made love only a half dozen times, and each time only after alcohol had lowered both of their inhibitions, much like what had happened on their wedding night.
“It wasn’t a lie,” she repeated slowly and deliberately, her gaze straying once more to his exposed wrists and dangling belt.
Having had his say, and having heard hers, Carlton relaxed visibly. Following Cecily’s line of vision his eyes narrowed, while a hint of a smile played on his dark features. “Well, it was certainly more lie than truth,” he countered, drawing his belt from the loops and wrapping it around his hand in one smooth motion. “What do you suppose happens to naughty wives who lie to their mothers and throw their husbands under the bus?”
He moved to kneel on the bed where she sat, and even in that position his larger than life frame towered over her petite one.
African by birth, Carlton was tall, well-built, and strikingly handsome. Even as un-traditional as their marriage was, Cecily considered herself a lucky woman. Smiling coolly, and choosing to play along, she batted her eyelashes up at him and put on her best innocent face. “They get ice cream?” she guessed coyly.
Carlton was stoic, staying in character, unreactive to her attempt at sassy humor. “Guess again.” His large hand flexed around the supple leather, and she couldn’t help but get butterflies in her stomach at what she knew would come next.
Thanks to her mother’s books, this was the one area where they were completely in sync.
In one swift motion, her husband scooped her up, flipped her over, and upended her across his lap as he took a seat on the bed.
“Naughty wives get long hard spankings,” he whispered in her ear. His hot breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine as he pinched her bottom tightly.
“Oh, no, not that! I’ll promise to be good!” she whined in a high-pitched falsetto, completely aroused as she waited for what would come.
“Too late.” Carlton’s naturally strong husky voice made him sound deliciously dominant.
His large hand cracked across her bottom, and she squealed in delight. The sting was exquisite. Her bottom warmed under his touch as he spanked her again and again, with just the right mixture of strength and playfulness, until her bottom was hot and achy, and her pussy was dripping with desire.
Just when she thought she would die if he didn’t touch her, or that her ass couldn’t take it for a second more, he stopped. His hand caressed her bottom, traveling lower, finding her creased opening.
“I think you enjoyed your spanking a little too much,” he teased, flicking her clit softly.
“Mmmm,” she mewled, happy at the release from the pressure that had been building all evening.
“Do you want me to touch you here like this? Do you want me to fuck your pussy, you naughty girl?” She couldn’t hold back a giggle, at this change from her husband’s normally dry demeanor.
“Are you laughing at me?”
She bit her lip against the giggles threatening to escape.
“I don’t think you’ve quite learned your lesson. Laughing at your husband will not get you any rewards, little one.”
Withdrawing his fingers from her folds, he stood and undressed before once more sitting on the bed, pulling her to stand in front of him. “On your knees.”
She happily complied, taking him in her mouth greedily. Her hands were frantic, squeezing his thighs, grabbing his balls as she sucked the length of his cock.
“Mmm…” It was his turn to moan. His hands raked her hair, tangled in her curls, and she knew it was time. One last suck, and a few teasing licks around the tip of his member. She looked up into his eyes and took the hand up that he offered.
His arms wrapped around her, folding her into his warmth as he lowered her onto the bed and pushed inside her.
She tightened and convulsed around him, startled at his girth. His size was something she had never gotten used to. The opportunities for them to be intimate were too few and far between.
He went slow, at first, easing her into it, giving her time to adjust, greedy lips claiming hers as their bodies rocked in unison. He waited for her signal, when her kisses became deep and frenzied. She raked her fingernails across his broad back, and hung on for dear life as he began to increase his speed, fucking her harder and faster as she pushed against him.
Their timing was perfect—they were connected in every moan and spasm as they came together, collapsing into one another, spent and panting.
Carlton was still panting as he rolled over her, stretching out across the bed in all his naked unabashed glory. “Okay, I give. You’re right. It did improve certain things,” he admitted with a sly wink.
Chapter 1
I don’t understand why you’re so nervous, Cecily. It’s Thanksgiving with your family and friends, it really shouldn’t be this hard.”
She didn’t respond, staring wordlessly out the window with her jaw set and hard. He wasn’t about to let her go on like that for the entire hour long drive to Corbin’s Bend.
“Remind me again—what’s the connection between you and Cadence?” Carlton knew that Venia and Cece considered Cadence to be family, but he wasn’t sure exactly what the connection was, only that it went back much farther than Corbin’s Bend.
Whatever it was, Cecily’s face softened at the mention of her, if only for a moment.
“Cadence’s mom and my mom were best friends—we were neighbors for as long as I can remember. We were pretty much raised together, they were that close, and so were we. Then, when we were in our teens, her mom got cancer. Towards the end of her life, and after her death, Cadence lived with us. Officially, I’m an only child. Unofficially, Cadence is my sister.”
The soft and thoughtful expression on her face was quickly replaced with one of apprehension, and Carlton winced. Perhaps that hadn’t been the best line of conversation for getting her to loosen up. For reasons he didn’t yet understand, her relationship with Cadence had gotten more strained after Cadence’s move to Corbin’s Bend, and her subsequent marriage.
The sort of complicated relationship Cecily had with her mother and Cadence wasn’t easy for him to understand. He tried to be patient, but with his own family gone, family holidays were a thing of the past, and he had been greatly looking forward to getting to know Cecily’s family. For him, it seemed like a second chance. When Tetra Electronics had expanded into the US, announcing the opening of a new division in Denver, Carlton had leaped at the opportunity to live on the same continent as his wife for the first time in their short marriage. The actual move and setting up of the company had been a long process, and a huge adjustment for he and Cecily to spend so much time together. He had spent the last eight months or so traveling back and forth between Tokyo and Colorado every other week. But, that was over now, and he had some downtime to get settled into what would, from this point on, be their new normal. His new job didn’t begin until after the New Year.
He was grateful for the break—the last few months had been extra stressful, and he felt like they had lost whatever little bit of headway they had made in their relationship, and that was a concession they couldn’t afford to make. For a couple about to enter into their fourth year o
f marriage, he and Cecily barely knew each other still. Carlton planned on using the next month and a half making it up to his bride, but she wasn’t making it easy for him.
At a stop-light, Carlton paused, stealing a glance at her. Cecily’s beauty took his breath away. Her looks were cool and classic. With her pale complexion, white-blonde hair and blue eyes, the two of them made a rather odd looking couple, catching the stares of passers-by wherever they went. A buddy in college had often referred to Cecily as “The Ice Princess”, and as much as it pained Carlton to admit it, the name fit her, in more than just her looks. He knew better. She had been going through a lot in college, and her icy demeanor had been nothing more than a defense mechanism, one she still fell back on from time to time—when she was feeling scared and insecure. The fact that he knew this about her was more of a throw-back to their college study group days than it was a testament to their marriage. Still, he would use it to his advantage.
Reaching across the large bench seat of the brand new pick-up, he took her hand in his. She jerked slightly, and for a moment he thought she would pull away, but to her credit, she stilled, letting her hand rest in his. A tear trailed down her cheek, and to her credit, she let it fall, rather than let go of his hand to wipe it away.
“It’s only an hour drive, so if you need to talk about anything, now is the time to get it off your chest.”
Cecily sniffled then cast a longing look in his direction. “I know it’s silly, but this was our first Thanksgiving together, and I was kind of looking forward to it. In my mind it was just the two of us, spending the day in the kitchen making a big feast, with the radio blasting, and curling up at the end of the day with a whole pie between us, a pot of coffee and a good movie.”
Carlton stifled a laugh. “Cece, sweetie, that sounds amazing, but my culinary skills don’t extend that far, and you can barely boil water.”
“I know,” she wailed. “I told you it was silly!”
“I thought you would be excited to spend Thanksgiving with your mom. I’m excited to have the whole family Thanksgiving experience, and I didn’t want you to have to change your plans or traditions just because our circumstances have changed.”
“Well, going to Corbin’s Bend isn’t one of my traditions,” Cecily admitted under her breath, leaving Carlton confused.
“What are you talking about? You go there for Thanksgiving every year. You always come back full of stories about your mom, and Cadence, and all of their friends.”
“Those stories are just repeats of things my mom has told me. The truth is, I usually spend Thanksgiving alone at the condo. I order dinner from the market up the street, put my pajamas on and binge-watch Sex and The City re-runs all day. I haven’t had Thanksgiving with my mom since my first year of college, and I have certainly never had Thanksgiving in Corbin’s Bend.” Her voice took on that haughty tone she used when she was being defensive about something.
“What are you talking about? Why would you lie about that, and how have you never been to Corbin’s Bend? Hasn’t your mom lived there for years?” He certainly remembered that Venia had lived there for at least as long as he had known Cecily, since their sophomore year in college.
“I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me when you had to work over holidays. I was just fine on my own, and I didn’t want you to make sacrifices in your work for me.”
Carlton didn’t respond, gritting his teeth as he wondered where to begin.
“Holidays with you would have never been a sacrifice, Cecily. I never really had to stay and work over holidays. I told you that because I thought you were going to be with your family, and I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me, for not having anywhere else to go. Sure, a lot of holidays I did end up catching up on research or paperwork, but it was never anything that couldn’t have waited.”
His wife regarded him with a pained look that reeked of the regret he knew they were both feeling. “But, you were in Japan! It wasn’t Thanksgiving in Japan!”
“I was in marketing and business strategy for the US market. Ninety percent of the people in my department were American.”
“Oh.”
Carlton sighed heavily. “Look, we can’t change the past. We both made mistakes and if we were being one hundred percent honest, maybe we just weren’t ready to spend holidays together at that point in our marriage. We didn’t even plan on staying married past a year, so we both had our guards up and were trying for as clean a break as possible at that point.” Even knowing the words he spoke were true, Carlton realized there was a bigger issue that needed to be addressed here. “So, let’s not waste time beating ourselves up for past mistakes. However, between this, the thing at your mom’s book signing and a few other minor situations that I’ve noticed, it’s come to my attention that you have a bit of a lying problem.”
“Oh, Carlton, a little white lie never hurt anyone.” Cecily waved her hand dismissively, but he was having none of it.
“I think the conversation we just got done having is proof positive that that statement bears little truth. Besides, I’m your husband, and I don’t appreciate being lied to, or about. I won’t tolerate it.”
“You won’t tolerate it?” Her tone was cool, and her eyebrow exquisitely arched as she stared at him in disbelief.
Carlton had to bite back a chuckle, both at his own statement, and her reaction to it. He had no idea where it had come from, as the idea that he could do anything about it was absurd. Her behaviors were not his to tolerate or not. He couldn’t take it back now. “No, Cecily, I won’t tolerate it. You’re a grown woman. There is no need for you to tell little fibs every time you turn around. It doesn’t do any good for anybody involved, and it often just breeds the need for more untruth.”
Cecily couldn’t keep the devilish expression off her face as she responded. “Okay, I’ll try to keep the white lies to a minimum, Carlton. But, really, if I accidentally tell a little one, what are you going to do, spank me?”
“I…” He hadn’t really thought that far in advance, and the challenge irked him more than he cared to admit. “I might,” he bluffed. “Don’t test me, Cecily, because I just might.”
His wife couldn’t hide the dark red flush that slowly crept up her cheeks at his answer. “Psshhh. Now I’m tempted to lie just for fun, Carlton. You know I like it when you spank me.”
“That’s because every time I’ve spanked you, we were playing. It was foreplay. You were supposed to like it. If I have to spank you to keep you from telling tales all the time, trust me, baby girl, you’re not going to like it.”
Damn that man. Her heart was pounding in her chest, racing as she tried her best to keep her expression to one of outrage, so he wouldn’t know just how much the idea of a real spanking turned her on. It was all she had thought about for months, and every fantasy that raced through her head when they were in bed together, or when he was out of town again, and she was alone. Damn her mother’s stupid books, too. They were crazy kinky trash—singlehandedly setting woman back nearly a hundred years—and Cecily couldn’t get enough of them. What in the hell was wrong with her?
Nothing. That’s what her mother would say. Cecily had heard it all before. There couldn’t be two leaders in a marriage. Submission was empowering. Blah, blah, blah. She wasn’t quite sure what pissed her off more these days. That her mother believed these things, or that she herself was beginning to believe them. If she was being totally honest with herself, that was the real reason she didn’t want to go to Corbin’s Bend. It was a matter of being forced to confront her innermost doubts and fears. She was going to spend a whole week amongst a community of spankophiles, and the idea was more exciting than off-putting.
And then Carlton had to go and say something like that—threatening to spank her for real! He wouldn’t, though, and she could prove it.
“Well, since you mention it, Carlton, I may have a few more little white lies that I need to tell you about.” She smirked when Carlton turned a sharp gaze in her directio
n, still managing to keep one eye on the road. “You know how I said that Corbin’s Bend was an exclusive community for like-minded people?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, the thing that they have in common is that they are all spankophiles.”
“Spankophiles? What in the heck is a spankophile?”
Cecily bit back a laugh, knowing her husband was being deliberately obtuse. “Carlton, you have a doctorate degree. I’m sure you can figure out the meaning of spankophile.”
“Oh, I can. It’s just…seriously? And you’re telling me this now? We’re going to some kink community for Thanksgiving? Is the turkey going to be trussed up in leather and blindfolded?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never been to Thanksgiving in Corbin’s Bend,” she replied sweetly.
Her husband’s only response was a deep throated growl, the likes of which she had never heard from him. Uh-oh.
“Wait a minute, is this some sort of joke? You expect me to believe that your mother, the sweet older lady that I met, is involved in some sort of fetish club? Into leather, and handcuffs, and whips and all that?”
She couldn’t hold back a laugh of disgust at that image. “God, no. It’s not like that. I mean, it probably is for some of them, maybe, but mom is into domestic discipline—kind of like in her book.”
“Domestic discipline? And that means?”
Oh, god. This conversation was just getting weirder and weirder. She should have just kept her mouth shut and let him figure it out for himself. He was staring at her waiting for an answer.
“It means, that one partner is the leader or head of house, and there are rules, and if the other partner, the taken in hand, or submissive partner, breaks those rules, there are consequences.” Phew. She knew that much from the books she had been reading at least.
“And the consequences for breaking these rules is a spanking?” Carlton had his analytical voice on, as if they were calmly discussing the stock market instead of the fate of her mother’s backside. She was thankful for that, as it was making it somewhat easier.
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