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“I guess it wasn’t much more than that,” she admitted.
“You came here just to avoid another misstep. And you couldn’t stay out of another man’s pants for a week.”
As he upbraided her, his expression became more chilling, something she always thought was impossible; but the hot and cold of his emotions mingled freely and poured out onto her in a tortuous bath.
“You’re so careless with your marriage, it’s a wonder that Will still loves you,” he retorted.
“You still love Jocelyn,” she reminded him.
For a moment Alex thought that he was going to slap her face. The glare in his eye was the dangerous one she should have been avoiding. “You know I thought this was going to be a very easy respite for you staying here, keeping your nose away from temptation, your body behaving, your mind in control. I guess I should have locked you up and tossed the key in the lake.”
“Reggie please, you make it sound so disastrous.”
“I warned you once to watch your marriage. But obviously it didn’t have much effect. Either that, or you seriously need to be punished and this is your way to get it.”
“I promise you it’s not that.”
“Nonetheless, we’ll take care of that matter right now.”
“Maybe you should wait for Will. He is coming home soon.”
“I’m sure he’ll take care of things himself when he returns, but his wishes were quite clear when he left. “Make her toe the line or make her ass pay.”
Alex remembered the words when they were first spoken, even though they were in the form of a joke. Apparently Reggie had a different recollection of that quick conversation. Alex stared again at the crop.
“Bare your ass, spread your legs and bend over that bar,” he said pointing to a thigh high sawhorse that was covered with an old horse blanket.
“Here, right here?”
Reggie viewed her with a haughty resolve and didn’t budge an inch in his physical stance or his purpose.
“You know this crop’s going to sting, but if that’s not enough for you, there’s a horse whip in the office I can use. I warn you, it’ll be a whole lot more damaging.”
“No. That’s all right,” she replied, immediately raising her sweatshirt so that she could undo the clasp at her pants. Peeling the jodhpurs from her hips, she turned around and exposed her hind end to Reggie’s gaze. Though she was terrified, the thrill of submitting to a punishment from him shot little darts of desire through her mid-section. To know that her body adored the act was always embarrassing. To know that she was even juicier between her thighs because he was staring at her with his threatening eyes was further torment.
There was little likelihood that Reggie would be anything but harsh. The blows severe. The sting outrageous. He would lay it on as ruthlessly as he ever had because he was so furious with her. And because she was stupid enough to get herself into this mess again, she’d live through it—only to endure it all over again once her husband was informed of her latest trespass.
The unfortunate fact, Reggie was right. She’d
turned into a loose, conscienceless woman. But why? Why had it become so easy to break her vows to Will?
“Perhaps if you rested your hands on that bale of straw,” he suggested, nodding toward the other side of the sawhorse.
Like every other time in her life, Alexandra faced the punishment with two attitudes: the one that would have dashed from the stable and raced far and long to get away from the crop’s mean cut; and the other attitude of mind that defined her as a bonafide submissive with a desperate yearning to feel that righteous wrath get under her skin.
Knowing that there was no chance of getting out of the punishment, she followed orders. Spreading her legs she bent over the bar feeling a cool gust of air turn her skin to goosebumps. With a flood of emotion converging on her, she began to cry before the first strike of the crop hit her flesh.
The crop was such an efficient implement, one Reggie wielded with expertise. The split end of the piece was tied in a knot so that it bit like an angry dog. His precise delivery laid mark after mark on her tender skin. He hardly cared whether the strike would hit her side or her thigh or the sensitive crack where her two globes parted. When he applied the broader, thicker shaft of the crop against her flesh, it left stripes like a cane. It didn’t take long for her bottom to be blotched and crimson—as if she’d been caught naked in a brier of thorns.
In reply to the agonizing pain, Alexandra wailed penitent cries, and then: “Reg, please no more! I am sorry! No, no, no more, I can’t stand this!”
Her cries had little effect. And when she twisted and turned in an attempt to get away from the worst of the sting, the pain got worse. The riding crop hit everywhere but her padded flesh. It was unforgiving discipline. Pain that knew no relief.
And then there was one particularly vehement crack. She tried to bolt. Had every intention of flying from the stall and the stables and Reggie’s estate. But halting her flight was a strong hand gripping her arm. With those unexpected fingers taking charge, she jerked back to see Will staring down at her.
“Good, god nooo!” she moaned, as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Misbehaving again?” he asked.
