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“When you act like a child, you’ll be spanked like one.” He corralled one errant leg, pressing it down into position. “Keep your toes on the floor, young lady. The more you resist, the longer this will go on. Now, you shall be paddled with the back of your own hair brush, and don’t think I won’t do such a thing again if the situation calls for it.”
With that warning, he landed the first proper stroke. She screamed and arched off his knees, pulling away from him to cover her bottom. The hard, round back of the brush seemed to leave a brand upon her skin. “That hurts too much! Even worse than the switching! You can’t really mean to spank me like this.”
“Move your hand.”
“Please! Warren, I’m sorry.”
“Move your hand or I’ll move it for you.”
With a plaintive sob, she moved her hand from her bare cheeks and braced it against the floor.
“No,” he said, on second thought, “you had better give it to me to hold out of the way.” When he had both her hands secured at the small of her back, he commenced with a very firm paddling, smacking first one cheek and then the other in an alternating pattern. Josephine wailed and kicked her legs, even though she didn’t mean to. It was impossible to be still with the fiery blows stinging her arse cheeks.
“Ouch. Oww. Ohhh!” Whenever her toes came off the floor, he gave a tap to the back of her thighs to tame them down again. She jerked and tugged but he kept her in check, delivering a steady tattoo of cracks until her skin felt like it might explode. Her protests for mercy gave way to apologies and finally to whimpers, when she couldn’t find the wherewithal to fight anymore. At that point, he put down the hair brush and smoothed his palm across her red hot cheeks.
“Now,” he said, pulling her up to stand before him. “You’ll apologize for calling me a liar and whining about everything in a most unladylike way.”
She tried to reach behind her to soothe her throbbing cheeks, but he held her hands at her waist so she couldn’t do it. “Don’t rub your bottom,” he said. “Apologize for your poor behavior, or, if you feel you haven’t sufficiently learned your lesson, you may bend back over my lap.”
She couldn’t bear to do that. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I whined and called you a liar.”
“You know, I only meant to be kind when I took you to Maitland, and when I tried to comfort you afterward. You had no cause to cut up at me, even if you aren’t feeling quite happy about everything.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He let go of her hands and drew her against him. “Go ahead and cry a bit, if it will make you feel better.”
“I don’t want to cry.” Even as she said it, tears flooded her cheeks. “You h-hurt me.”
“I disciplined you,” he corrected her. “There is a difference, which you’ll understand in time. If I only meant to hurt you, I could have done a lot worse.”
She pressed her fingers against her eyes. “But you did hurt me. Even now, it hurts.”
“Corporal discipline is a method of molding behavior. It hurts, but not for the sake of hurting. There’s a purpose. You learned something, didn’t you, through this spanking?”
“Yes!” She turned her head and sniffled against his shoulder. “I learned that I don’t like being paddled with the back of a hair brush.”
“Exactly. You’ve learned to avoid unpleasant consequences by exhibiting better behavior.” He held her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I think deep down inside, you want to be made to behave. Deep down inside you want nothing more than to be a proper English lady whom other people respect, and I am going to make you that lady, Josephine.”
“You won’t be able to,” she said miserably.
“Oh goodness, let’s not start all over again. Go put away your brush, at least for the moment.” She obeyed, reaching behind her to rub her aching bottom a time or two. She couldn’t tell if it made things better or worse. Meanwhile, Warren watched her from the bed with his head propped on his hand. She waited across the room, staring at his thickening cock. He beckoned her with a crook of his finger. “Come on, then. Let’s not have any more sulking nonsense.”
She crossed to him with a tiny bit of sulkiness, but not enough for him to fetch the hair brush again. Did he wish for love play now? She was tired and confused, and in more than a little pain. When she was near enough, he drew her naked form beneath him, settling his hips against hers. He took her hands and pulled them over her head, tracing his fingers along the delicate inner skin of her forearms and stopping at her wrists. “I want you to leave your hands right there. You’ve been a very naughty girl, and now you must let me do whatever I like, to put me in a better humor.”
She stared up at him. “What are you going to do?”
“Nice things.” He moved his hips, nestling the head of his shaft between her tightly closed legs. Her hands came down to check him but he pushed them back up. “Are you going to resist me?” he asked softly. “That is probably unwise.”
After a moment, she shook her head. “I’m not resisting. It’s just that I don’t know… I don’t know how to feel.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’ve lectured me and spanked me and made me feel awful. I’m not sure I’m ready to be close to you. Not like this.”
He leaned down to whisper a soft breath against one flagrantly hard nipple. “Whether you’re ready or not, I plan to have my way with you, darling.” As he suckled her breasts, he ran one palm down her thigh and shoved her legs apart. “Leave them open wide for me, or you’ll be paddled again. You must allow me to do as I like. Marital rights and all that.”
He trapped her beneath him, holding her open with his knees. The more she tried to close her legs, the more he pressed them open, until she desisted with a frustrated sigh. Marital rights! She wished she’d never heard of the concept, especially when her body responded—quite against her will—to his sensual manipulations. He squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples, and then kissed her as he positioned himself between her legs. She expected him to enter her at once, wanted him to enter her at once, but instead he drove shallowly against her, in and out, just the tip caressing her folds and the little pearl she continuously tried to thrust against him. He smiled at her frustrated noises and held her wrists against the headboard.
“When will you come inside?” she asked when she couldn’t bear it anymore.
“When I want to, Lady Warren. Not a moment before.”
Her breath came in sharp pants as she gazed at him. How humiliating, to be teased and toyed with today of all days. She gritted her teeth and scowled at him, and tried not to respond to his nearness and heat, and his scent, and his caresses, but she was past the point of coldness. She burned for him to fill her up and chase away this nagging want.
“It’s all right,” he whispered, tracing his thumbs across her brow and then cupping her chin. “It’s all right to enjoy this.”
“I don’t e
njoy it,” she said with a pout.
“You’re a liar. Shall I punish you again?”
But he was already punishing her with this teasing, and his knowing, mocking smiles. “Don’t move your hands,” he reminded her. “Leave them against the headboard, if you please.”
“I don’t please. Oh…” Her whining cut off in a sigh as he entered her slowly. Halfway in, he withdrew from her again.
“Oh, don’t,” she said. “You’re being horrible.”
“Sometimes you’re horrible too,” he murmured. “Perhaps this is like for like.”
“You want to drive me mad.”
“In some ways, yes. Do you want me?”
She bit her lip and gazed at him. She wanted him more than anything, but she hated that he made her admit it. But if she didn’t admit it, she knew he’d leave her unsatisfied, and she’d hate that more. “Please,” she whispered.
“You want me all the way inside you?”
“Yes, please.” She twisted her hips, arching to him. He caught her swollen pearl between his fingertips and pinched it until she groaned.
“How does that feel? Do you like it?”
“No,” she whimpered.
“But you’re awfully wet. Are you wet for me, kitten? Do you want me very badly?”
She hid her face against her arm, and clenched her fists upon the headboard.
“If you don’t answer, you won’t get what you want.” He stroked his cock, regarding her with a speculative expression. “Are you wet for me, Josephine?”
“Yes, I’m wet for you,” she said. “You know I am. I don’t understand the point of putting me through this agony.”
“The point is that you make those lovely noises, and your entire body strains for my touch.” He flicked her stiff, pointed nipples, first one and then the other. She gasped at the sharp bursts of pain. “Ask me to take you. Beg me. ‘Please take me, Warren.’”
“Please take me, Warren. Please.” She beat her hands against the headboard, and yes, her body strained for his possession. Humiliation burned, but desire burned hotter.
