The Key by Lynsay Sands

before she turned to flee toward her chests. Nothing on earth
     could have stopped him from leaping the bed to reach her side.
    Catching her about the waist, he tugged her backward, twisting so that they landed side by
     side on the bed. He then threw a leg over both of hers and leaned up slightly so that he
     could peer once more at the contraption she wore.
    “Damn.” The word came out in a hiss of air as he examined the apparatus. Catching her
     hands easily in one of his own when she started to struggle, he held them above her head,
     his eyes never leaving the belt. “What be it?” he asked with awe.
    “ 'Tis a belt of chastity,” Iliana admitted grimly, then caught at her lower lip and began
     to worry it between her teeth.
    “I have never seen the like.”
    “ Twas invented by Francesco Carrarro.A... a friend of my father's.”
    “How did ye come by it?”
    “Father brought it back from his last visit,” Iliana answered reluctantly. “He gave my
     mother and myself both one.”
    “And yer mother had ye wear it to ensure yer chastity 'til ye reached me,” he guessed,
     giving the front strap an experimental tug. “ 'Tis leather.”
    “Aye,” Iliana gasped, her head turned to the side to avoid the stink of his armpits as she
     tried to tug her hands loose. Damn, he smelled foul.
    Shifting, he turned her abruptly onto her stomach so that he could look at the back of it,
     taking in the way the center strap was sturdily fastened to the belt there.
    “Let me up,” Iliana snapped over her shoulder, embarrassment flushing her face.
    Duncanignored her, his gaze wandering to the cheeks of her bottom on either side of the
     leather. 'Twas a fascinating sight. The round, smooth pink flesh, separated by the dark
     brown leather. Reaching out, he caressed one cheek lightly and smiled. The belt was a
     great relief to him. For a moment, he had thought he had gotten more than he had bargained
     for in a wife. Pinching one perfect cheek for the scare he'd had,Duncansmiled over her
     startled squeal, then flipped her onto her back again, his gaze turning to the lock that
     held the contraption closed.
    “How do ye undo this?” Slipping a finger beneath the center strip, he ran it along her
     skin until it rested against her womanhood, where he gave the leather a gentle tug.
    “A key,” Iliana answered thickly, then swallowed.
    “Where be the key?” His finger slid back up along the belt, setting off a clamoring within
     Iliana that occupied her briefly. She was damn relieved when his hand stilled and his head
     raised toward her in question.
    Clearing her throat she met his gaze. “I...” Pausing, she swallowed and tried again. “I
     will give you the key if you take a bath.”
    Duncanstilled, confusion his only expression. “A bath? Tis not July yet. Why the devil
     should I take a bath?”
    “July?” Iliana frowned. “What has that to do with it?”
    “I bathe twice a year,” he told her proudly. “The last day o' every January and every
     July. Why would ye wish me to change that and bathe in the middle o' June?”
    “Because... because I find your odor offensive?” she offered timidly. “What?” “I said” “I
     heard what ye said, woman! I am not deaf. What the devil do yemean ?”
    Arms stretched above her head and lower body trapped beneath his, Iliana was beginning to
     feel like a sacrificial virgin. Temper flaring, she snapped, “You smell like a chamber
     pot! I do not care to be near you and I will not give you the key unless you take a bath!”
    Duncanpulled back to stare at her in dismay, completely flummoxed by her audacity. “Ye are
     denyin' me rights as yer lawful wedded husband?”
    “Nay! I deny you nothing,” Iliana contradicted at once, trying to sound reasonable as she
     added, "But if
    you will not do me the courtesy of taking a bath, I will not“ ”Yeare denyin' me!“ he
     accused, storm clouds gathering on his forehead. ”Nay, I“