James McGregor would never have imagined himself taking an Englishwoman as a wife, let alone a disgraced lady-in-waiting, but when he is ordered by the king to marry twenty-two-year-old Eleanor Falconer he is left with little choice. His reluctance is quickly overcome by his bride’s beauty and grace, but he soon realizes that she will still require firm-handed correction.
Even with her cheeks blushing and her well-punished bottom burning, Eleanor cannot hide her body’s response to James’ stern dominance, and their wedding night leaves her sore, spent, and shamefully satisfied. But when the king seeks to use her as a pawn in his scheming against her new husband, can Eleanor trust James with the truth even with everything she loves in jeopardy?
Author: Ashe Barker
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$4.95
Length: 78,700 words
He swiped the switch through the air a couple of times, remembering how she had reacted to the sound of his belt splitting the air. The whistle now was shriller, more ominous. She flinched but held her position.
Jamie took up his stance at her rear, selected the spot for his first stroke, and raised his arm.
The whoosh of air concluded with a sharp crack as the switch connected with her unprotected buttock. Eleanor gasped and her body jerked, but she remained in place.
He took his time preparing for the next stroke, waiting for the vivid stripe to bloom on her skin. He was not disappointed. The deep shade of pink contrasted beautifully with the milkiness of her soft flesh.
“Are you ready for the next one?” he asked, his tone gentle.
“Say it. Ask for it.”
“I… I am ready for the next stroke, my lord.”
“Lift your bottom higher. Show me that you are ready.”
She did as he asked, and he could not have been prouder of his little Sassenach bride. Or more aroused.
Christ, but she is a treasure.
The air whistled again. The switch landed again, this time on her other rounded globe. Eleanor let out a small sob.
Jamie waited until her breathing settled, then tapped her bottom with the switch. “Ask me for the next one, Eleanor.”
“P-please, my lord… please do it again.”
He selected his next spot and obliged her, painting another vivid stripe an inch below the first.
Eleanor sobbed again and rocked from side to side as she fought to bear the pain. Jamie inspected the switch as he waited for her to settle and detected the start of fraying along its length.
“Again,” Eleanor mumbled, her breath hitching as she tried not to cry.
“Wait there. I need to select a fresh switch. I fear ye have worn this one out.”
He took his time in strolling over to the pail and drawing another switch from the water. He shook off a few stray droplets, then returned to his position behind her.
“This one should deliver a decent lesson, Eleanor.” He drew its length across her buttocks, enjoying the way she clenched under the light touch. He continued, his tone deceptively conversational. “I am told a switching is more painful if you clench. You might like to try to relax, sweetheart. And you will spread your legs a little more for me, if you please.”
Eleanor groaned but attempted to do as he told her.
Her pretty pink cunny glistened, the wetness there beyond doubt. Could it be that, despite her obvious discomfort, at some level his bride actually enjoyed being punished? He had known some females were of such a bent but had not dared hope his own wife would be among their number.