He knew there was a reason – and a damned good one – why he shouldn’t do it, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to remember it. She smelled so good; she looked so good, that he just couldn’t resist her a second longer.
As she turned to remove her dress, the bands of his fingers locked around her arms and Aislinn found herself guided over to the bed. Before she could marshal any sort of resistance, he had her over his lap and her skirts hid almost the entire room from her view – she could only see exactly what was beneath her nose – that awful carpeting she’d seen much too closely once before. She recognized this position, and knew she didn’t want to see where this was going, but even in his cups, as he apparently was from the wreaking smell of his breath, he was too strong for her. No amount of struggling or contortions was going to help her.
In her own defense, she didn’t think she should have seen this coming. He hadn’t come near her in a long time, and she’d forgotten that he intended to take pretty much any time she displeased him as a reason to spank her. She had begged to be let up the last time, begged him to stop spanking her long before he’d finished, and it was humiliating – the entire experience was humiliating, but it was that much worse to remember that she’d wasted her breath pleading with him to stop when he acted like he’d never heard her.
So Aislinn resolved not to do that this time. In fact, she resolved to take this spanking as quietly as she could.
That firm resolve lasted through about eight swats with that broad, flat hand, and when the tears she tried desperately to hold back began to flow down the set of cheeks he wasn’t reddening, she found she could no longer suppress her voice. It was like his swats hurt a thousand times worse when she tried to ignore them and convince herself that they were little love pats. His hand cracked loudly against her nates, sometimes hitting exactly the same spot twice. It was this – coincidence or not, she wasn’t sure – that made her cry out for the first time as tears raced down into her open mouth.
“Please nooooooooooooo!”
Again, it was as if she hadn’t spoken. She reverted to trying to be as quiet as she could, but it was damned hard. Even drunk, he was extremely methodical, and had covered every bit of her vulnerable flesh in his first round of spanks, and now he was covering the same, already inflamed skin, for the second time. It was awful. It was only the second time in her life that she’d met a pain she couldn’t handle, and part of that was that she didn’t know how long it was going to go on. A healing bone got gradually better. But his spankings only got quickly worse.
Spanking her cleared some of the alcohol induced fog in Kell’s mind. Maybe it was her groans and pleas for mercy, maybe it was the sight of that gorgeously rounded bottom of hers, but whatever it was, it sobered him up more quickly than anything else could. But he continued to spank her even after he’d come more to his senses, because she had disobeyed him.
When he finally stopped, the sobbing girl fell to her knees between his legs, snuffling and choking loudly, reaching back in that automatic, age old way of the recently spanked to feel what horrid damage had been done by the spanker. Of course, there wasn’t anything beyond a lot of redness, but the rubbing still felt good, Kell remembered all too vividly from his own myriad trips over his father’s knee.
She tried to raise herself off her knees, but Kell’s feet were on her skirt. “Let me up,” she repeated that oft used phrase from just a few minutes ago.
“No,” he answered gruffly, putting his hands under her arms to lift her onto the bed. Aislinn found herself on her back on the bed, with her only somewhat sobered husband leaning eagerly over her. He peeled off the dress that he had already unbuttoned, and split her chemise down the front with one well aimed rip. Her ample breasts spilled out, and she found that covering them with her hands or arms only managed to plump them up as if she was offering their bounty to him, which couldn’t have been the farthest thing from the truth.
Kell descended on those gorgeous globes as if he was a starving man at a buffet. He was a little less gentle than he might have been if he was truly in his right mind, but his desire for her overruled a lot of his more gentlemanly tendencies. If the whole chicken bladder incident had never happened, he would have taken her with infinite care – believing until the last moment that she was a virgin – and made sure that nothing he did frightened her, gently talking her through everything that he did to her . . .
But now he knew there was no reason for all of the careful tenderness he would have smothered her with. There was no need to make sure that she liked what he did, since she probably knew more about it than he did and could teach him a thing or two.
He captured each nipple in turn, suckling and flicking his tongue over the tip, using his spare hand to tug and turn its sister. She was moaning again, but not pleading – not yet anyway. And the moans were distinctly of pleasure rather than pain, although they sounded slightly apprehensive, too, as if she was worried that he might hurt her when he took her in revenge for not being the virginal bride he’d contracted for.
But Kell didn’t like to hurt women. He’d always gotten a lot more satisfaction out of being able to bring them to pleasure. It made him hard just thinking about making his lover scream in pleasure, but he was so hard already he didn’t think that he was going to have time for his usual tendencies this time. That was all right – he was sure she wouldn’t miss it and he could make it up to her another time . . .
There was something nagging him in the back of his mind as to why he wasn’t supposed to do this right now, but he couldn’t put his finger on it . . . and he could put his finger on her . . . and more . . .
Kell scrambled between her legs, thoughts of eventually using all of his tricks to make her scream with pleasure playing through his mind, making him want to drive into her with all of his considerable might. He lay atop her, reaching down to adjust his kilt and free his already rock hard member. Her bloomers were already long gone from the spanking, and when he settled back down onto her, he found her notch immediately and began to push against her.
Because of her exceedingly embarrassing chat with Jenny, Aislinn had a reasonable idea of what to expect, but she refused to participate in any way, and simply lay there, letting him do what he would. Now he would finally find out what kind of a woman he’d married.
Kell pushed and pushed, a sweat breaking out on his forehead. Something was blocking his way. He was big, but it shouldn’t have been so hard for her to accommodate him. Finally, he leaned back and pulled her legs up onto his shoulder, leaning every bit of his weight onto his aching member. That leverage alone should have had him cozily wrapped up in her in seconds. She let him in, eventually, but not until he felt that telltale, slow ripping of her maiden barrier before she swallowed him to the hilt.
Aislinn groaned through the lip she had bitten, swearing that she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her cry out or beg yet again tonight, no matter what he did, no matter how much she wanted to. And once he was inside her, stretching her and hurting her that much more, there was nothing that she wanted so much as to roll onto her side in a ball and cry her eyes out. If this was what was going to happen to her at his will any evening during the rest of her life with him, she thought she might give herself to the Church instead, or run away to America – something. She couldn’t bear this ever again; it was too painful and downright humiliating.
It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over Kell. He’d never sobered up so completely or so fast in his life. She hadn’t been lying. She was a virgin. Her maid had been telling him the truth that Aislinn hadn’t known anything about it. She was a virgin. No man had had her but him.
A virgin. He wanted to pull out. He wanted to apologize and beg her forgiveness. He wanted to bang his head against the wall in penance. But the bald truth was that his genitals were committed to the act he’d begun, and they weren’t about to let him back out. But he did stop and look down at her, his face contorted with the effort not
to plunge in and out of her with complete abandon. Aislinn’s eyes were closed tightly, tears leaking out of the sides. She had such a hold on that lip with her teeth that he could see that she had broken the skin.
Kell leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, drawing back slowly, making her groan slightly. He couldn’t help it. He needed her. He would have preferred if things had been different – much different – but he couldn’t fix that now. At least his body was so wrapped up in her that it only took him a few strokes to lose himself in her completely. Of course, she wouldn’t know that that was embarrassingly quick, and he was thankful for at least that.
When he was done, he rolled off her as quickly as he could, not wanting to prolong her misery. He thought she might get up and away from him as soon as she could, but she simply lay there, unmoving. It was almost worse than having to get up and chase her down as he’d thought he’d have to. Not moving, not saying a thing said volumes to him. She might as well be yelling at him that she was right and he was wrong. That she was as innocent as the day she was born, and he’d been as nasty to her as he could in thinking that she was a woman of loose morals – imprisoning her, shaming her in front of his relatives and the townsfolk . . .
A horrid thought struck him. If he’d been wrong about her innocence, he wondered if he’d been wrong in spanking her about being late. “Why were you late tonight?” he asked, feeling like it was going to be an answer he really didn’t want to hear, but had to anyway, like a tongue that always sought out an aching tooth.
“Old Mr. Kendall died tonight. There was nothing I could do for him. I stayed with his wife and daughter as long as I dared.”
Kell sighed. Every foot he put with her was wrong. Well, it was never too soon to try to make amends. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“I know what you thought,” she answered in a matter of fact voice that drove shards of shame and guilt into his heart.
“I was wrong about that, too,” he braved his way right to the heart of the matter, not wanting it to fester between them. Kell rolled over towards her, wanting to touch her, but feeling strongly that that wasn’t the right thing to do just yet. “I’m sorry. I should have believed you like my brothers did. I just found the evidence so damning . . . “
She just shrugged. That was it. That was all the response he got. A delicate shrug. He thought it was a pretty big issue, but apparently she didn’t share his opinion. She got up, sucking in her breath when she moved herself upright on the bed – no doubt several parts of her were reminding her of his presence.
“Are you done?” she asked in the same cold, clinical tone she’d been using, reaching behind her to remove her shredded chemise as she brought a nightgown out of the armoire.
Kell felt as if he’d been hit right in the chest with a huge log. He didn’t know why he was having that kind of a reaction – she wasn’t being nasty or ranting or raving, which she had every right to do, as far as he was concerned. But this . . . withdrawal . . .he didn’t know how to deal with it. Everyone he knew confronted things head on – he and his brothers were renowned for their loud arguments, usually conducted at the local pub, especially when they were younger. She was acting as if nothing of any import had happened. He’d apologized. There were few people – alive or dead – who had ever heard him say he was sorry. Apparently she didn’t appreciate how unusual that was.
He realized how self-absorbed that sounded, and knew that it was more likely that he’d hurt her more than she was willing to deal with at this point, and the problem was he didn’t know what to do to make it up to her. This wasn’t the kind of thing that an apology – however rare – was going to smooth over.
But he wanted to make things better between them. Much better, as soon as possible. But he wasn’t going to dignify her question with an answer. Instead, he got up and began to disrobe. Aislinn did her best to ignore him, but when he started to take his clothes off, she knew she had to draw the line.
“Shouldn’t you be doing that in your own room?” she hinted broadly, moving to put her hand on the doorknob.
A small, almost regretful smile touched his lips that she was so eager to get rid of him. “I am. This is my room.”
Her eyebrow shot up, but she didn’t waste any time in gathering some of her own clothes into a small bundle and returning to the door. But Kell had beat her to it, blocking it with his body. Aislinn stood with her hands on her hips. “Get away from the door. If you’re sleeping here, then I’m sleeping somewhere else.”
“No.” It was a deceptively soft word, but she knew that her idea of slipping out of the room to an unused guest room wasn’t going to happen as long as he was standing in front of the door. He was too damned big for her to push past or move. She wasn’t going anywhere until he decided to let her. As usual.
Sighing, she moved towards the window and the chaise lounge she’d had Arthur move in for her, setting herself up there instead, with one of the extra pillows and her robe to keep her warm. Kell snickered a little at her creativity, but wasn’t about to let this stand. He wanted her in bed with him, not across the room near the drafty windows. So, after she was off her guard and had settled down, however uncomfortably, Kell got up and picked her up – robe and pillow and all, placing her carefully back down on her side of their bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked indignantly, trying to get up again.
“Putting you where you belong. In our bed.” He lay atop her so that she could barley breathe, much less move.
“Get off me, you big oaf!”
He just smiled down at her benevolently. “No. I want you right here, and as you may have noticed, I get what I want.”
Aislinn rolled her eyes and puffed out a breath – she could no longer draw a deep one. “Would you please get off me so that I can breathe?”
Kell moved just a little to one side, but not enough so that it would be easy for her to wiggle out from under him, and leaned his head on his palm. “I know we got off on the wrong foot because of me and I’m sorry. But I want us to get past that. Neither of us is going to sleep anywhere from now on except right here. Eventually, I hope you’ll forgive me. In the mean time, I know there’s no way for me to really make it up to you, but I imagine there are some changes you’ve probably wanted to make around the place, and I just want you to know that you can do anything you like – improve your office or tools or plants or whatever, paint or redecorate or anything. If you want new furniture, I’d be glad to accompany you on a trip to Edinburgh to pick out whatever your heart desires.”
“Thank you,” she said, her eyes remaining closed. Her lack of enthusiasm was goading, but he persevered.
A thought struck him of a surprise he could give her tomorrow, without even having to leave the house, but he decided to save that for tomorrow. “And despite what you must now think of what goes on between a man and a woman, I promise you it will be different next time – I won’t be in my cups and it won’t hurt you, I promise.”
Her lips twitched in what he interpreted as a purely sarcastic manner, but she said nothing.
“I do know how to make it very pleasant for you, Aislinn. And I will.” Kell reached for her and pulled her against him into the spoon position, brushing his hands through her hair in a manner that he hoped she would find soothing. This was going to be very hard for him. He’d never had to do much to get a woman, and his lovemaking had always been his ticket to keeping those he wanted. He prided himself on being able to pleasure even the most reluctant of women. But when it was the most important, he’d lost his head, as well as the trust of the most important woman in his life.
But he would do whatever he needed to do to make it right between them. He still clung to the hope that they might have as good a relationship as his parents had had. It wasn’t too much to ask for, he hoped.
The next morning, she had slipped out of bed before him, and when Kell awoke he was alone. She had spent the night in his ar
ms, even if she was asleep through most of it. He took it as a good sign that she really hadn’t struggled much when he pulled her against him – but then, maybe that was a bad sign because she was just giving up. Kell wanted to punch something – anything – but mainly himself. She hadn’t done anything wrong – in fact, despite the way he was treating her, she went ahead and did something wonderful in taking care of the people around him even though he didn’t make it easy to do.
Chapter 9
He got up and got dressed quickly, hoping to find her downstairs at breakfast, or at least somewhere in the house so that he could try to arrange his day so that they spent at least some of it together. He would move or put off anything that he could if he could just spend some time with her, hopefully showing her that he wasn’t as bad a man as she no doubt thought he was.
She wasn’t anywhere to be found. He searched the house from bottom to top – and stopped for a moment in the attic to glance over all the furniture there. That was his surprise for her for today – if she wanted to redecorate, or change things, or take some things for her office, then she could use anything of what was up there. He just had to find her to give her the surprise.
He checked around the courtyard and asked some servants, who said she had headed out of the house early in the morning. Figuring that she might have had some early patients, he returned to the house and ate his usual hearty breakfast, intent on visiting her to see exactly what it was that had the people around him so enamored of her. He couldn’t go two feet in town without someone singing her praises to him – it had been annoying before he’d know the truth about her. Now it made his heart swell – with guilt. She was doing more for them than he was, and he hadn’t appreciated it.
Until now. With a set face, he put down his napkin and stalked out the door, only to catch his wife as she climbed down out of the loft in the stables. What in bloody hell was she doing? Was she meeting a lover up there? Was she cuckolding him under his nose in his own stable?
The MacNaughton Bride Page 10
