To Tame A Countess (Properly Spanked Book 2)

by Annabel Joseph

  All the while Josephine stared at the cane. He was certain it looked terrifying in her eyes, and yes, it would cause her some discomfort.

  Speaking of discomfort… He left his breeches on, lest he traumatize her further by his flagrant state of arousal. Josephine was squirming already, making uncomfortable noises as the ginger took effect. What a delightful target, that squirming bottom. How he’d love to release himself and plunge inside—

  Punishment first, he chided himself. You lustful beast.

  He took up the cane and stood beside her, placing a hand upon her lower back. “You’re to be still,” he said in his strict voice. “Palms flat on the bed.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Her shaky words emerged, muffled, from within the sheets.

  “We’ll have eight good strokes, and then we’ll see where you’re at.”

  She bore the first stroke rather well, he thought. A sharp yelp and a little jerk. A line of pink bloomed across her buttocks as she processed the fiery sensation. “Count for me,” he reminded her, tapping upon one tensing cheek.

  “Oh,” she gasped. “One.”

  He made her wait a bit for the second. She clenched upon the ginger in her bottom, making hot little panting noises as she wiggled and squirmed. He laid the second stroke above the first, and the third just below. She counted with obedient determination, her whole body tense as a rail.

  “Four,” she cried out at the next stroke. He’d laid it directly atop the first one and she arched up, sobbing, “Oh, please, I’m quite sure I can’t bear any more.”

  “Bend over. Palms on the bed,” he reminded her. “I’ll add strokes if you don’t take your punishment the way you’ve been taught.”

  “But Warren! It hurts so badly.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Now, we’re halfway there. Will you bend over and take the remainder of the strokes, or shall I tie you down and add a few more?”

  “May I only rub my bottom for a moment?” she begged. “And remove the ginger, just for this one spanking? Oh, my lord, please?”

  “It’s to be ten strokes then,” he said. “Two extra strokes for whining and dithering.”

  Josephine made a meek sound of protest but she bent over the bed and even offered out her smarting bottom.

  “That’s better,” he said approvingly.

  “Five,” she wailed as the caning recommenced. “Six! Oh, it hurts. It hurts! Perhaps you had better tie me down after all.”

  “There are only four strokes remaining. You may have a short break to gather yourself if you really need it. To let some of the pain disperse.”

  “Oh, yes, please. I would like that.”

  He lifted her from the bed and put her on her knees. “You can pass the time by showing me just how sorry you are for your naughtiness.” He undid the straining front of his breeches, releasing his rigid shaft. She stared up at him, blushing, rather tearful, her bottom still tensing from the pain of the last two strokes. She accepted him in her mouth so eagerly he almost went off right then. “Stop,” he groaned. “Go slowly. Tease at all the places I’ve taught you. And don’t think to distract me from finishing the rest of your punishment, because you won’t manage it. This is only a rest.”

  Oh, how easily he could have been distracted. He could have let her pleasure him for days and not grown tired of her earnest efforts, accompanied by the occasional whimper of discomfort from the ginger in her arse. She was so beautiful like this, surrendered and submissive. “Yes,” he said, stroking her hair. “A little break, then four more strokes.”

  She whimpered again. Such a lovely sound, especially when she was on her knees. When his control was near to bursting, he told her to stop and bend back over the bed. She obeyed, her hands tensed into fists. The ginger’s flange nestled between her cheeks, that extra, secret punishment for very naughty penitents.

  “You remember which number we’re on?” he asked.

  “Seven. Ow! That was seven, my lord.” She buried her face in the sheets again. On eight, she danced on her tiptoes and made a sound that was very unladylike indeed.

  “There now,” he said, staring down at his aching cock, still thrusting obscenely from the front of his pants. “We might have been finished with the punishment, mightn’t we? If you had better self-control.”

  “I have terrible self-control,” she said. “I know it.”

  “Then you must endure the last two.”

  He made both strokes as hard as the others. No going soft, not him. She would know, and it would somehow discredit the whole punishment, to not dole out what she’d earned. She squealed and cried, and counted, and squeezed on the ginger so she bawled even harder and begged him to take it out.

  “Not yet,” he said, putting down the cane. Eight distinct lines crossed her backside, since he’d laid two of the strokes atop another. He traced each one to be sure there was no broken skin. She winced every time he touched her, and shimmied her bottom so he almost lost his mind.

  “I think it’s time you had a firm rogering,” he said, barely holding his voice steady. “To further fix you in your place.”

  He didn’t wait for any comments of disagreement, or consent, only took her hips and plunged inside her, burying himself so deep his pelvis contacted her sensitive, caned cheeks. Her body held him tight, a perfect, fitted vessel for his aching manhood as he pounded into her. He enjoyed taking her like this, when she was sore and conflicted, for if she clenched around his cock the way she liked to, she clenched around the ginger too, constantly crossing the line between pleasure and pain.

  “Are you going to be a good girl now?” he asked. “Have you learned your lesson?”

  “Oh, yes, I have. I’m going to be so, so good,” she said in a tumbling whisper.

  She probably hadn’t the least idea what she was saying, which was both charming and erotic. She was close to falling apart, he could feel it. By this point, he could tell just by the way she breathed. He didn’t want this to be over quickly, this surrender, this reconnection to each other, but then, they were going to be together forever. They could do this every day. Twice a day if they liked, and twice nightly.

  Forever.

  “Oh, Warren,” she cried, pulling at the sheets. “The way you make me feel…”

  “Does it feel good? Move with me, love.” He thrust so deep and hard inside her slick warmth that they both collapsed forward onto the mattress. He leaned on one elbow so he wouldn’t crush her, and wrapped the other arm around her, holding her close and working inside her with all the passionate lust he felt. Her legs slid against his as she neared her climax. “Yes, that’s right,” he urged her. “Yes, feel me inside you. My good girl. My strong girl.”

  He licked her nape and then bit it, not hard, but enough to send her over that edge into shaking, shuddering ecstasy. She cried out with an elated sound that sent a shot of pleasure to his balls and thighs. He stiffened over her, pumping all his life and love into her as she bucked beneath him. Exquisite sensation wracked him, leaving him exhausted and bathed in a feeling of bliss.

  “Josephine…” He lowered himself atop her, covering her from the curve of her nape to her toes hanging off the edge of the bed. He couldn’t get close enough to her. She’d survived so many perils to reach his side, to become his wife and his lover. He wanted to shelter and protect her from any more harm, even if it meant changing his own goals and dreams. He’d uncover her goals and her dreams and they’d go forward together, always as close and connected as they were now. From now on he would be the husband she deserved, accepting her as she was. He’d give her no more reasons to run away and hide.

  He made all these vows silently, in his head, but to her he only said, “I love you, I love you,” over and over, kissing her shoulders and jawline and the delicate curve of her neck. She laced her fingers through his and whispered that she loved him too.

  Her love, which he’d never sought, had come to mean so much to him, had indeed changed him from the inside out, into a completely different sort o
f man. She’d changed him into a person he was proud to be. In the warm intimacy of their embrace, they soon succumbed to exhaustion. They roused themselves at some point to liberate Josephine of her ginger, and to wash, and then both of them crawled back into his bed. She lay drowsy and limp beside him as he pulled up the covers.

  “Warren,” she murmured as he hugged her close. “Do you know what?”

  “What, love?”

  “On the way here, there was a tiger in the carriage with me.”

  “A tiger? My goodness. I hope he behaved.”

  Her lashes flickered, half closed. “It was only a dream.”

  He kissed her lightly, once, twice, unable to resist. “You mustn’t be afraid of tigers anymore,” he said as he drew away. “Not even in your dreams.”

  “I wasn’t afraid.” She drew her fingers down one of his bristly cheeks. “Because the tiger turned into you.”

  “Did it now?”

  “Yes.” Her breathing softened and slowed as her fingers went still. “I love you, Warren.”

  “I love you, too, dearest.”

  She said nothing else, only snuggled right against him, until he felt her fall peacefully to sleep.

  *** *** ***

  Josephine woke and slept, and woke and slept, and ate a bit, perhaps around breakfast time. She had quite lost count of the hours, caught up as she was in her husband’s touches and caresses, and the intimacies he demanded with his secret, lascivious smile.

  At last she rose and stretched, and went to the window to see about the clatter in the courtyard.

  “Oh, your sister has come with Mrs. Everly,” she said over her shoulder. “And August and Arlington too, it appears.”

  He crossed to stand beside her. She couldn’t help noticing his manhood was ready for action yet again. “Perhaps you should stay away from the window until you’ve dressed,” she said with a pointed glance.

  “Impertinent comments will get you nowhere. Except over my shoulder.”

  She let out a half-shriek, half-yelp as he upended her and gave her bottom a teasing spank. “They are right downstairs,” she protested, flailing her arms. It was a long way from his shoulder to the floor.

  “Not yet,” he said, grasping her tighter. “They’re still in the courtyard. Minette will be chattering on and on to the butler and housekeeper about every detail of the journey, Arlington and August will be taking some refreshment, and the servants will be unpacking their things, if they’ve come to stay. We’ve at least half an hour before they demand our presence.” He gave her bottom another sharp slap, right over the tender stripes from her caning. “But half an hour isn’t long enough to do anything very exciting.”

  He righted her, and she leaned against him, pressing her cheek to his chest. “I suppose there won’t be quite so many spankings now,” she said, “since you intend to let me be more eccentric.”

  He stroked light fingers over her bottom. “I don’t know. The spankings do have a calming effect on your nature. I suppose you might need one every once in a while.”

  “Every few months, perhaps?” she said, looking up at him hopefully.

  He snorted. “Every few days, I should think. Unless you intend to go completely tame.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was teasing or not. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to be. From the open window, she saw Minette fluttering about, talking to her companion and directing the unpacking of the carriage.

  “I suppose Minette worried after I left,” said Josephine. “I didn’t tell her my plans. I didn’t want to get her in trouble again.”

  “She gets in plenty of trouble without your help. But yes, I’m sure she worried when she learned you’d gone. I think everyone worried when word got around that you’d rung a peal over Westmoreland. The three of them have probably come to be certain I haven’t wrung your neck.” He gave her nape a playful squeeze.

  She smiled and tugged at his hand. “After you scolded me at Lansing’s, you said you would go back inside and make up some story to excuse my behavior. What was it? In case someone brings up the topic?”

  “Why, I didn’t have the chance to make up anything at all. The wives had already decided you were in an ‘interesting condition,’ since this apparently causes ladies to behave in all sorts of erratic ways. And the tale must have made perfect sense to their husbands, because they all asked when the joyful event was to occur.”

  “Joyful event?” Josephine was lost. “What is an ‘interesting condition’?”

  “A pregnancy, my dear. A child. I’m afraid I let them go on believing the story because I couldn’t think of a better one in the moment.”

  Josephine looked away from him, deep in thought. “A child?” She tried to remember the last time she’d had her monthly. It was past due now, surely. “Perhaps it’s not such a made-up story after all.”

  He went very still. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… I wonder if perhaps…”

  His eyes went very wide. “Never tell me you’re breeding, Josephine. Not after the things I did to you last night, and this morning. My God!”

  She put her hands on his chest to calm him. “I don’t know for sure. And if I am, I’m certain everything is all right. Although we might reconsider the idea of spankings every few days.”

  Warren remained white-faced. “I suppose I’ll have to consult a physician on the matter. ‘Tell me, is it all right to spank my wife when she’s breeding? How often would you recommend?’” He sputtered out a laugh, and then his mouth relaxed into a grin. “A baby, Josie. Imagine. A little girl or a little boy. We’ll have to air out the nursery wing, and finish the renovations at Maitland Glen. We’ll need clothes and toys and bright places for the baby to play.”

  “We have some time.” She smothered a smile at his excited planning. “I believe babies take many months to appear. And you mustn’t tell anyone yet, until we confirm it.”

  “But everyone already believes it’s true. The gossips will expect a baby in the spring. Not that we care about gossips anymore,” he said quickly when she frowned at him. He lowered his voice to a lighter, more sensual tone. “If you’re not with child, I suppose we had better start trying for one right away.”

  “I think you more than did your duty in that regard last night. And this morning,” she added, raising her eyebrows. “But we can keep trying if you like.”

  They both turned to look outside. Minette, August, and Arlington had already gone into the house. “We have only a quarter hour now,” he said, turning back to her. His eyes glinted. “It will be a rush.”

  “We’ll manage.” Josephine squeaked as he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her back and crawled atop her, spreading her thighs. Had this frightened her once? Now she couldn’t wait for him to ease inside her, inch by delicious inch. She clung to him as he filled her.

  “Oh, it feels so good.”

  “You feel so good,” he said, kissing her and nibbling at her lips. “Yes, arch for me. Show me how much you want me.” She writhed against him and smothered her helpless cries of pleasure in his shoulder when the servants came tapping at the door.

  “We’ll be down presently,” he called out in a rough voice. “Give us ten… Well, perhaps twenty minutes.” He sucked in a breath as she squeezed on his thick length. “We’ve some very important and sensitive matters to attend.”

  “Yes, my lord,” came the servant’s reply.

  Josephine licked the scratchy underside of her husband’s jaw. “How dutiful you are,” she teased. “And how I love you for it.”

  He answered this praise with an especially forceful thrust. In the end, nearly an hour passed before they made it down to greet Warren’s sister and his gentlemen friends, but none of them seemed put out, except perhaps Lord August, who by now had endured nearly two whole days of Minette’s adoring company.

  “Josephine,” Minette cried, flying across the room to embrace her. “I heard the news. It’s all over town! I heard it from Lad
y Bexford who heard it from Lady Geoffrey who had it from Lady Mary Elaine that you’re in the family way. I’m to be an auntie soon, am I? Is it really true?”

  Josephine smiled shyly at her husband and then back at Minette. Lord August and the Duke of Arlington stood a bit away, looking embarrassed. Josephine placed a hand over her middle, where Warren had only recently kissed her and whispered achingly tender things. “I certainly hope you’ll be an auntie soon,” she said. “You’ll do very well at the job.”

  Minette practically levitated with excitement, clapping her hands. And in her heart, Josephine didn’t think she was raising false hopes. Somehow she knew Warren’s child was growing within her, just as she knew Warren’s love lived within her now and always. Half tame, but fully loved, he had whispered as he caressed her. Oh, Josie, I love you so.

  The five of them proceeded to the garden to talk and take tea in the light of the breezy day. How far Josephine had come from that evening in Lord Baxter’s ballroom, when she’d hidden among the house plants, hoping not to be found. How far Warren had come too, from his dissolute days. He had found her and changed her whole life, and she had changed his too. They were going to have a child together, perhaps many children, all of them cherished, happy, and safe.

  The gentlemen laughed, the cakes were delicious, and Minette glowed under Lord August’s occasional regard. Warren sat by her side, touching her hand now and again and sharing secret smiles. This was so much better than a lonely cottage somewhere.

  It was so much better to belong, and to be close to him.

  It was so much better to be loved.

  The End

  A Final Note

  I hope you enjoyed this second story in the Properly Spanked series. If you missed Townsend and Aurelia’s story, be sure to read Training Lady Townsend to hear their emotional tale. There are two more books still to come in the series: My Naughty Minette, and Under a Duke’s Hand. You won’t want to miss any of this spankalicious saga, so be sure to subscribe to my newsletter at annabeljoseph.com for news about upcoming releases, or follow me on Twitter (@annabeljoseph) or Facebook (www.facebook.com/annabeljosephnovels) to hear updates on my works in progress.