Danewyn, a tavern prostitute, has always been cursed with the Sight—the ability to see into the unknown. It is a trait she has learned to keep hidden from others, but a moment of anger finds her blurting out a prediction about the Red Fox, the rightful king of Briton. Unfortunately, her prediction is overheard by one of the Red Fox’s men, putting her in grave danger.
Captured and carried off for questioning, she finds herself prisoner to Sir Ferrum, an enormous knight who bears the scars of an old injury upon his face. She finds Sir Ferrum to be firm and unyielding, but his treatment of her also reveals a gentleness which she has difficulty reconciling with his harsh discipline. To her dismay, her feelings for him continue to grow, and Dani must decide whether to continue her plans for escape or accept her new role as Sir Ferrum’s woman and Seer to the Red Fox.
Author: Renee Rose
Word Count: 39,000 words
eBook Price: $4.95
“Let’s get your punishment over with, shall we?” he asked.
She eyed his belt as if she’d just realized what sort of chastisement he had in mind. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked warily, her chest rising and falling quickly.
“I’m going to give you a thrashing.”
She swallowed and stared down at him with her beautiful eyes widened. She looked so innocent, so childlike, that it pained him to have to punish her. Her eyes traveled from his face to the belt and back.
“Must you?” she asked, but her defeated look said she’d already accepted the inevitable.
“’Fraid so—you heard the prince.” He took her wrist and guided her gently across his lap. Her skirts were thick—offering far too much protection. He pulled them up over her legs to bare a pert little bottom. She squeezed her cheeks together when the air hit them. He rested his hand on the soft orbs.
He tried to remember whether he’d ever whipped a woman before. The way his cock had gone rock hard made him doubt it. He would surely have remembered such an experience. He doubled the sword belt and touched it once to her bottom to perfect his aim. Then he cracked it down with about a quarter of his strength. She jerked in response, but made no sound. He continued, giving her a few seconds between each stroke to recover before delivering the next one, watching the way the her skin turned from cream, to a light rosy blush, to a deeper crimson as the lines of the belt started to stand up in puffed striation. She still hadn’t made a sound, but she wriggled plenty, which did not help alleviate his intense arousal for her. He ended the whipping with five much harder strokes—their foster father had always done it that way—to show how much worse it might have been. They got a sound out of her—she cried out with each one, her voice starting to take on the sounds of sobbing by the last one. He lifted her to stand in front of him and rubbed her hot cheeks. Her skirts were still up, so he was caressing her bare bottom, which was completely improper. He jerked his hands away and allowed the skirts to fall down to her ankles. The moment his hands left her skin, they itched to touch it again—her tantalizing curves igniting a hunger deep within him.
She had tears glinting on her lashes, and her chin quivered, but surprisingly, she didn’t look angry with him, confirming his impression that life had been hard for her—as if she’d come to expect pain and humiliation. She lowered slowly to kneel between his knees and stunned him by reaching to free his erection from his leggings. “You don’t have to do that,” he choked, but her mouth was already opening, and the part of him that desperately wanted her mouth on his cock disabled the part of him that knew it was wrong.
“You want it,” she murmured, and he gasped at the feeling of cold air on his moistened cock.