by Jane Henry
He could see her begin to soften when her breath became more shallow and her eyelids fluttered. Still, she pursed her lips as she glared at him. “Fine,” she hissed.
He tsk-tsked. “Try again, darlin’.”
She closed her eyes, inhaled, then blurted out, “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he crooned. “Now strip.” The last command was said low, not forcefully, but in a way that commanded her attention.
She glanced nervously around her, stood and walked to a nearby tree. Hurriedly, she stripped her clothing until she stood near him wearing nothing but her chemise. He’d already assembled their bedroll, and while she’d prepared herself, he’d removed his boots, belt, and Stetson. A few minutes later, he lifted the blanket and gestured for her to join him.
“Come, now,” he ordered.
She closed her eyes briefly before she obeyed. As she lay beside him, she was rigid, holding her body apart from him as best as she could in their confined quarters.
“Relax now, honey,” he said. “We got off to a rough start, but you’ll see I’m not all that bad if you can trust me. Relax. I promise I won’t take advantage of you.”
He smoothed a hand over her hip, soothing, ignoring the uncomfortable tightening in his pants. If his plan was going to work, she’d have to trust him. “I’ll not hurt you,” he said. “That’s not my style. I don’t enjoy taking advantage of women against their will.” That was his brother’s specialty, and partly why Aida was sharing his bedroll. “Sleep now, honey.”
So far, he’d shown her he was a man of his word. He’d done what he said, every time. And yes, he’d been rough and he’d spanked her. He would do it again if he had to. But if he could only get her to trust him…
He lifted a hand and ever so gently trailed his fingers through her hair, starting at the scalp and carefully moving down to her neck. At first, she tensed, but he whispered, “Shhh. You’ve had a rough day. You relax now,” moving his hands through her hair over and over again. After a time, he rested his hand back on her hip, a gesture of protection and comfort. Finally, the tension seeped out of her shoulders. Her body relaxed against his, and moments later, he heard her steady breathing. She was asleep.
He smiled to himself. He was good at this, so good he almost believed it himself.
Chapter Seven
Courage is knowing what not to fear. ― Plato
Aida woke at the crack of dawn, Cole’s hand still resting upon her hip. She’d never been touched by a man like this before, and she hated that her body betrayed her. She wanted to despise the man who’d taken her and whipped her. But despite her best effort to do so, he kept making her change her mind. It wasn’t fair.
The way his voice had soothed her, low and commanding but not overbearing, had made her body relax despite her best effort not to fall for his seduction. She’d wanted to hate his hand stroking through her hair, but her body had had other ideas. He was so strong and handsome, and she had never known the touch of a man like him before. She’d ignored the voice in her mind that had warned her against trusting him and had reveled in the peace she felt. And she had been exhausted. She’d felt his hardness against her backside as they lay together, but the fact that his hand had never moved beyond her hip, never grasped her breasts or touched between her legs, somehow convinced her that maybe he really wasn’t a vicious or loathsome man. There were others in their party who were vicious. But perhaps he wasn’t one of them. He was feared. He was the leader.
Though Cole had taken her, he’d said it was to teach her father a lesson. And didn’t her father need a lesson! The mere thought of her father getting a taste of what he deserved thrilled her. And though Cole had whipped her, he’d defended her against his brother, and killed a man who had threatened to hurt Patricia.
Maybe Cole wasn’t all that bad.
As she struggled with her conscience, her mind went back to something Lucille had once told her. “Sometimes those who should love us don’t. And those who shouldn’t do.” What a strange thing to think, she thought to herself, pursing her lips. Cole certainly didn’t love her. He very likely hated her.
Cole’s hand flexed on her hip. “You awake, Aida?” he asked.
Shifting away from him, she sat up. “Yes,” she said shortly. Her stomach rolled with hunger. Her eyes were gritty with sleep, and she was in desperate need of a bath. How she missed the claw-footed bath at home, her thick slab of fragrant soap, her ivory-handled comb and mirror. If she got out of this unscathed, she’d never take her pampering for granted again. All she needed was a hot bath and a clean dress. She’d have neither.
“Up we go, then. Go get dressed,” Cole ordered, as if she really needed direction. Now that the others were rising, the first thing she needed to do was get dressed and ready.
Scrambling out of the bedroll, she grabbed the folded clothing she’d left nearby. As she lifted her clothes, something skittered across her hand. She let out a scream that could be heard for miles. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she grew faint from fright. An enormous spider had climbed atop her clothing and was scrambling over her. Cole wasted no time. He slapped his hand out, the spider falling to the ground, as he lifted his boot and crushed it.
“You see that red dot?” he said grimly. “Poisonous. Otherwise I’d not have killed it.”
She barely heard his words, though, as her eyes were clamped shut, the blood ringing in her ears. She hated spiders. Always had, always would. She was terrified of their creepy-crawly legs, pincers, and mouths, and never could even summon neutral appreciation for the tamest. She hated all manner of spider. She swayed, her legs wobbling beneath her, still feeling the shock of terror and fear shoot tremors through her body. She was vaguely aware of Cole coming closer, as she swallowed hard to avoid crying. Crying over the spider would be embarrassing, though her throat was tight and her nose stung. To her surprise, she felt Cole’s arms wrap around her.
“You all right, sweetheart?” he asked in her ear. She merely shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. He pulled her to his chest, and though she wanted to protest, she did not. He was strong, and despite being on the trail, he smelled nice, the sweet, pungent scent of tobacco mingling with leather. She’d never been held like this, in the arms of a strong man, and it was not unpleasant. He gently placed a kiss atop her head.
“You’re gonna be okay there, pretty girl. The spider’s gone and I’m here.”
Oh, how she wished she could trust his words. It pained her to have to put her guard back up. Despite how lovely it felt in his arms, she pushed herself away.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said. Cole released her, but held her at arm’s length, his dark eyes penetrating hers.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked low. Others in their party had glanced at her, but now moved on, as everyone was busy preparing to move on.
She nodded. Time to play submissive again. “Yes, sir,” she whispered. If she could only get him to think she was obedient, when they reached the next town, opportunity might arise. “I’m fine.”
He nodded, appeased, and kissed her forehead gently, his whiskers tickling. To her dismay, her heart fluttered again. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now go on and get dressed. I don’t want anyone’s eyes seein’ you dressed like this but mine.”
She wondered why he cared now how she was dressed, when she’d been hauled out of her house in front of all of them in nothing but a chemise?
He spun her around and gave her a teasing swat, sending her on her way. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment, not just from the realization that she was only dressed in her chemise, but because her body had betrayed her, the force of the gentle swat making heat pulse between her legs. Angry tears filled her eyes. She had to hate him. She simply had to.
Chapter Eight
Pain and pleasure, like light and darkness, succeed each other. ― Laurence Sterne
They rode a full day, stopping only for a brief meal Cole allowed. He watched Aida reluctantly choke down hard
tack with coffee. She was learning. Patricia fed her baby, and explained that an Indian woman she’d befriended taught her how to tie her baby to her back. It was a useful tool, as the baby dozed easily while they rode hard. Patricia sat behind Preach, holding tightly to his large body, and when they stopped, Preach saw to her needs. He hoped Preach wasn’t growing soft on her. Any attachment to a woman on the trail was dangerous.
Aida rode behind him, at the head of the pack, holding onto him. It seemed she held on less reluctantly than when they first began, and he hoped it would stay that way. Time would tell.
The clomping of horse’s hooves came beside him, until Justice rode next to him. “You reckon we’ll make it to Lawson’s in time?” he asked.
Cole clenched his jaw and nodded. They were not to speak of their plans in front of Aida. “You know it,” he growled. They’d ride hard all night if they had to but his plans would not fail. “Everything’s workin’ just as it should, except for yesterday, but we ain’t slowed down none. Now no more talk of it.”
Justice gave a barely perceptible nod, gently lifting the reins on his horse so that she slowed and fell in line behind Cole.
“We’re going to Litchfield?” Aida asked behind him.
Cole swore. Curse his brother and his claptrap. Women didn’t have the faintest sense of direction and she likely wouldn’t have even known where they were otherwise.
“That’s the plan, darlin’,” he said, with forced gentleness. “You feelin’ all right back there?”
“Mmm,” she answered. “Need to use the facilities soon,” she said. “When we get to Litchfield?”
He swore under his breath. “Don’t say the name of the town aloud again, Aida,” he ordered. “Best we keep that secret. And we’re due for a stop, so we’ll pull over at the clearin’ and water the horses. You can visit the privy then.”
She muttered under her breath, and he gave her a sidelong glance. She quieted.
“Hold!” Cole shouted, holding up a hand. The party came to a stop, as Cole swung down from the horse. “Last stop before we reach our first destination for the night. Up ahead lies the railroad station. We leave Preach and Patricia in town, then move on to where we’ll sleep tonight. Anyone need to relieve themselves or get some water, do it now. I’ll give you fifteen minutes. I want everyone back here promptly.”
Murmurs came back to him, “Yes, sir,” and “You’ve got it, boss,” as the men stretched their legs and secured their horses. Aida began to walk away.
“And where do you think you’re goin’?” Cole asked, trotting to keep up with her.
“To use the facilities,” she said. Her eyes flashed at him as she lifted her skirts up over the leaves. It was no use. They were already caked with dust from the trail, and dragging on the ground. Holding her skirts was likely habit. She continued to walk ahead of him.
“You wait for me,” he ordered, but she didn’t slow. In two large strides he caught up with her, took her by the elbow, and delivered a sharp swat. “I said wait up for me, young lady.”
She froze, her chin lifted high, stock still. “Fine.” She’d obey, but not happily. Someone was looking to get her pretty little backside blistered.
He marched her to the creek, no longer allowing her to have the illusion of freedom, but holding her steady. Soon, when they were alone in a hotel room in Lawson’s, he’d turn on the charm again. But right now, his instincts to make her obey were in full force.
When they reached the water’s edge, she turned and asked him to leave her be.
“One minute,” he said, lifting a finger in warning. “One, and I’ll be back.”
He turned his back to her to give her privacy, counting slowly in his head, listening for any signs of escape. But he could hear her right behind him. She was not running. When he reached sixty, he turned to her. She was just finishing righting herself, when a flash of silver caught his eye. She gasped, but it was too late. The pistol fell from her waist and to the ground.
“Freeze,” Cole growled. “Don’t you move a goddamn muscle.”
Her eyes looked up at him, wide and fearful as he prowled closer. Junior’s pistol, red-handled and unmistakable, lay at the ground at her feet. Cole picked it up and glanced it over.
“Well, well, little lady, what have we here?” he said. “When did you come about this little stolen piece of property?”
She cast her eyes at the ground and refused to speak.
He took one step closer and reached for her, her entire delicate chin engulfed in his large hand. “You’ve already earned yourself a trip over Daddy’s knee for stealin’, little girl,” he said. “Now fess up before Daddy’s forced to punish you more severely.”
She swallowed, and fear tripped across her features. She jerked her face from his hand, looking away as she spoke. “This morning at breakfast,” she mumbled. “He left it out because he’d cleaned it. I took it then and hid it.”
Cole glared. Not only had she stolen the gun, now he’d have to deal with Junior. Likely Junior hadn’t told him about the missing weapon because he feared being punished himself. Cole had few laws in his band, but one of them was a man must be armed at all times. Losing one’s weapon was a major infraction, and couldn’t go unpunished.
He nodded once. “I’ll deal with Junior later,” he growled. “I’ll deal with you now.”
She took one step back before he grasped her arm firmly, marching her over to a fallen tree. He turned her to face him.
“You’re getting a spanking, Aida. You know that, don’t you, little girl?” Her eyes flitted away, but a quick chuck of his finger under her chin brought her glance back to his. “Do you think Daddy can let sneaking go unpunished?” He made his voice intentionally gentle but firm, his tone scolding but kind. “I don’t want you hurt, honey,” he said softly. “A big ol’ gun like that could hurt you. And Daddy needs to teach you a lesson to keep you safe.” He sat, drawing her firmly across his knees. It surprised him how little resistance she gave.
He slowly raised her skirts. He’d taken many women across his knee, and he well knew the intimate touch like this could work in his favor. He wasn’t truly angry with her. He was almost proud of her courage and tenacity. And she’d acted the part of the chastened girl quite well, to his immense pleasure. His cock hardened at her rounded bottom over his knee, her perfect figure begging to be touched. His hand went to the front of her drawers and he tugged the drawstring. Her hand flew back but he deftly pinned it.
“Hands down, young lady,” he said sternly.
She kicked her feet in protest as he lowered her drawers. He gave her one sharp swat to the crease of her thighs and bottom. She yelped.
“Daddy told you what would happen if you misbehaved. A good bare-bottom spanking should make my point loud and clear.” He pulled her drawers down while she begged him to stop. Determined, he pulled them down to her knees and rested his hand on her naked bottom. God, he wanted to take her.
“Why is Daddy spanking you, little girl?” he asked.
Her shoulders slumped. “I took the gun,” she whispered.
“Was that honest?” he asked.
She shook her head vehemently, as he ran his hand from the small of her back to the top of her thighs.
“No,” he said softly. “Now, we can’t have dishonesty between us, young lady. What you did was not only dishonest and disobedient, but you also risked injury to yourself. And I can’t allow that to happen.”
He lifted his hand and brought it down sharply on her naked skin. She yelled out loud. He felt the satisfying sting in his hand as he administered a second sound swat. The loud clap of his hand on her bottom resounded in the quiet. Again, he spanked her and this time her little feet kicked in protest.
“None of that, now, darlin’,” he said firmly, while delivering a handful of rapid swats to the place just below her bottom, where it stung worse than ever. She whimpered, but he continued spanking.
“I’ll not have you put yourself in danger,” he s
aid, lifting his hand and administering another hard stroke. Her bottom was growing red now. His cock ached. She wiggled, and his hand around her waist firmed. “You obey Daddy, and you won’t find yourself like this again,” he said, giving her several more punishing swats. “Getting your pretty little bottom tanned over Daddy’s knee.”
She moaned, but he continued. His cock throbbed, desire consuming him every time his hand connected with her beautiful backside.
“Daddy wants to treat you well,” Cole continued. “And not have to take you across his knee to be spanked like a naughty little girl. But if you disobey, this is where you’ll be, sweetheart.” Another sharp swat followed another, until she was flaming hot to the touch, her backside a sunset crimson. He closed his eyes briefly. She was so beautiful. If only…
He stopped spanking her, running his hand over her punished bottom. “Has Daddy made his point, darlin’?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Good girl,” he crooned. “Such a good girl, taking her spanking over Daddy’s knee.” Slowly, he dipped his middle finger between her legs, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face when he found her slick with arousal. She wiggled in protest.
“Ohh,” she said. “Oh, please don’t!” He guessed her face was as flushed as her vulnerable bottom spread over his lap.
“Just relax, honey,” he whispered. “You took your spanking like such a good girl. Now let Daddy make it a little better.” This time she didn’t protest as his fingers traveled between her legs. First, he explored her core. Gently, he pushed his fingers on the inside of her thighs. “Open up wide, sweetheart,” he coaxed. To his immense pleasure, she obeyed. His chest tightened along with his cock as he slowly plunged a finger between her legs again.
