fear.
“Complete submission.”
She jerked her chin at him. “I don’t trust you.”
“Nor do I,” he chided with a grin. “That’s why you will have
a word of your choosing that you can utter if you wish me to stop.”
“A word? And you’ll stop whatever…whatever you’re doing?” It
seemed too simple to work. “What about stop?”
He shook his head. “I won’t believe you.” His eyebrow arched
wickedly.
“What do you mean, then? A word such as…mother?”
He blurted a mirthless laugh. “I’m certain that particular
word would bring the festivities to an abrupt halt. I’d prefer something less…
unpleasant.”
“Do you find the idea of me being the mother of your child
so odious?”
“You misunderstand.” He shook his head. “Not you, love.”
She peered at him, still not comprehending. But his words
gave her a brilliant idea. “Love.”
He stared.
She stood firm. “Love. That’s my word.”
Although he seemed taken aback he nodded. His eyes glittered
diabolically. “Well then. So it is. I hope never to hear it uttered from your
pretty lips.”
She didn’t care if he’d just insulted her. Right now she
wanted but one thing from him. “I agree to your terms. Spank me.”
Instantly she wondered if she’d chosen the wrong path. His
amber eyes darkened. Gone was his playful demeanor. A muscle in his jaw
twitched. “On your knees, darling.” He turned and strode toward the wingback
chair in her room.
Primrose gaped as he sat and patted his thigh.
“You’ll receive an extra swat for disobedience,” he said
calmly. “Drop to your knees and crawl over here.”
Love, love, love…
Her lips trembled but she couldn’t utter the word. Not
before she saw what this was all about—this thing that had haunted her
fantasies since she’d spied on him that night in the garden.
But did he intend to punish her for deceiving him on their
wedding night?
“Hesitation will earn you another,” he warned.
Slowly she sank to the thick carpet as he watched intently.
Her heart pounded so hard it made her eyes water. The knowledge of what he was
about to do to her coupled with the fear of the unknown seized hold of her like
an intoxicating drug. She’d never felt so alive, so a part of her own body.
He crooked his finger, motioning for her to come to him.
She couldn’t do this. Every ounce of sanity inside her
denounced this behavior. It was debauched. Lewd!
And yet no one need ever know. The whole world already
thought her a fallen woman for having married Adam Black in the first place.
She cast aside everything she’d been taught about decorum
and began to crawl. The carpet was soft under her palms and knees and the act
of moving toward him in this manner, the illusion of being powerless, surprised
her in its sensuality.
His eyes warmed as she neared. The approval in his gaze
aroused her and she began to move just for him. Catlike and lithe, her eyes
holding his, drinking in his admiration for her.
“Come,” he said hoarsely. “Lay yourself over my lap.”
Her throat constricted as she positioned herself, knees on
the floor, her abdomen across his thighs.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he said softly.
A strange excitement filled her and when she placed her
hands at the base of her spine, he curled his fingers around both her wrists,
anchoring her in place. The weight of his other hand settled on her bottom.
Every breath, every beat of her heart seemed amplified. Her channel clenched
with hard need over and over.
The hand on her bottom drifted over her flesh, rubbing,
massaging, his fingers working into the furrow between her cheeks as if he
would violate her there. A strange opposition between shame and a craving for
more caused Primrose to lift to his touch, her body betraying her desire for
that particular orifice to be abused as well.
For the first time in many years all her cares slipped away.
Her focus remained solely on her body and what her husband was
“Complete submission.”
She jerked her chin at him. “I don’t trust you.”
“Nor do I,” he chided with a grin. “That’s why you will have
a word of your choosing that you can utter if you wish me to stop.”
“A word? And you’ll stop whatever…whatever you’re doing?” It
seemed too simple to work. “What about stop?”
He shook his head. “I won’t believe you.” His eyebrow arched
wickedly.
“What do you mean, then? A word such as…mother?”
He blurted a mirthless laugh. “I’m certain that particular
word would bring the festivities to an abrupt halt. I’d prefer something less…
unpleasant.”
“Do you find the idea of me being the mother of your child
so odious?”
“You misunderstand.” He shook his head. “Not you, love.”
She peered at him, still not comprehending. But his words
gave her a brilliant idea. “Love.”
He stared.
She stood firm. “Love. That’s my word.”
Although he seemed taken aback he nodded. His eyes glittered
diabolically. “Well then. So it is. I hope never to hear it uttered from your
pretty lips.”
She didn’t care if he’d just insulted her. Right now she
wanted but one thing from him. “I agree to your terms. Spank me.”
Instantly she wondered if she’d chosen the wrong path. His
amber eyes darkened. Gone was his playful demeanor. A muscle in his jaw
twitched. “On your knees, darling.” He turned and strode toward the wingback
chair in her room.
Primrose gaped as he sat and patted his thigh.
“You’ll receive an extra swat for disobedience,” he said
calmly. “Drop to your knees and crawl over here.”
Love, love, love…
Her lips trembled but she couldn’t utter the word. Not
before she saw what this was all about—this thing that had haunted her
fantasies since she’d spied on him that night in the garden.
But did he intend to punish her for deceiving him on their
wedding night?
“Hesitation will earn you another,” he warned.
Slowly she sank to the thick carpet as he watched intently.
Her heart pounded so hard it made her eyes water. The knowledge of what he was
about to do to her coupled with the fear of the unknown seized hold of her like
an intoxicating drug. She’d never felt so alive, so a part of her own body.
He crooked his finger, motioning for her to come to him.
She couldn’t do this. Every ounce of sanity inside her
denounced this behavior. It was debauched. Lewd!
And yet no one need ever know. The whole world already
thought her a fallen woman for having married Adam Black in the first place.
She cast aside everything she’d been taught about decorum
and began to crawl. The carpet was soft under her palms and knees and the act
of moving toward him in this manner, the illusion of being powerless, surprised
her in its sensuality.
His eyes warmed as she neared. The approval in his gaze
aroused her and she began to move just for him. Catlike and lithe, her eyes
holding his, drinking in his admiration for her.
“Come,” he said hoarsely. “Lay yourself over my lap.”
Her throat constricted as she positioned herself, knees on
the floor, her abdomen across his thighs.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he said softly.
A strange excitement filled her and when she placed her
hands at the base of her spine, he curled his fingers around both her wrists,
anchoring her in place. The weight of his other hand settled on her bottom.
Every breath, every beat of her heart seemed amplified. Her channel clenched
with hard need over and over.
The hand on her bottom drifted over her flesh, rubbing,
massaging, his fingers working into the furrow between her cheeks as if he
would violate her there. A strange opposition between shame and a craving for
more caused Primrose to lift to his touch, her body betraying her desire for
that particular orifice to be abused as well.
For the first time in many years all her cares slipped away.
Her focus remained solely on her body and what her husband was
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