The Knight's Prisoner (Medieval Discipline 1) - Page 36

He parted his legs, depositing her torso on the bedroll and rolling her onto her back before grasping her thighs and pulling her hips up close to his own. Her body felt as though it were made of custard, and she couldn't do anything but stare at him with a stupid little smile on her face. He bent her knees up so she lay with her sex fully presented to him. He turned to one of the bent knees and slapped her inner thigh. The zing of pain registered and started to pull her out of her post-climactic languor. He slapped it again. Then again, traveling down from the knee toward her parted sex.

Her breath quickened, and she began to tremble with the combined pleasure and pain sensations swirling through her body. He turned to the other leg and gave that inner thigh the same treatment, slapping hard down it. He patted her sex a few times, but his wrist was at a bad angle to slap it with any force. He picked up her ankles and crossed them, holding them in one of his large hands and lifting them back over her head. He moved onto his knees and brought his big palm down squarely on her sex.

“Ack!” she shrieked, a bit of fear sharpening all her senses.

“Ack?” he asked conversationally.

He spanked her sex again three times in rapid succession. She jumped and tried to squirm out of Ferrum's grasp with every smack.

“Mine,” he growled and spanked it again and again. She whimpered and kicked.

“Ferrum,” she gasped.

“Aye?” He paused the spanking.

“Please don't be mad at me,” she said in a tiny voice.

He brought her upturned foot to his mouth and bit it. “Nay, little flower. I'm not mad at you. I'm just teaching you who you belong to.” Then he sat back and cradled her foot, looking serious. “You really are mine now?”

She met his eyes and nodded solemnly.

“No more thoughts of escape?”

She shook her head. “Nay… I'm here to stay. With you.”

Ferrum's eyes glittered as he held her gaze, a satisfied smile on his face. “Then I'll be having my way with you now.”

She smiled back. “I thought that's what you were doing.”

He shook his head. “That was just a warm-up. I meant it when I said I'd spank you all night.”

A thrill of fear and excitement ran through her, because she had imagined he was almost through with his deliberate torture of her sensitive parts. He used her legs to spin her around on her back so her head faced him and then he shed his clothes and crawled over her to put his cock into her mouth. He had the control in this position, and he moved in and out of her as he pleased, using her mouth as he might have used her sex, thrusting deeply so that she had to relax her throat not to gag. She used one hand to massage his balls and the other to grip the base of his cock, closing her lips firmly. He pulled out before he came, and he spilled his seed on her breasts. She smiled and rubbed it over her sensitive nipples until he knocked her hands away. “Mine,” he insisted and pinched them.

“Aye, Ferrum—yours,” she gasped, arching into his hands.

“Go and fetch my sword belt,” he said.

Her belly flipped. She peered at him, but was reassured again that he didn't appear angry. For the briefest of moments she considered arguing, but that would ruin the pleasure of wanton submission she was feeling. Because Ferrum's measured infliction of both pain and pleasure had left her reveling in the feeling of being completely owned, completely possessed. For the first time in her life, someone wanted her—all of her, not just what she offered when she flipped up her skirts and bent over behind the tavern.

She obeyed him, her palms already beginning to sweat at the thought of the pain he could mete out with his belt. When she brought it to him, he pulled her down into his lap and looked into her eyes, burning a hole into her soul with the intensity of his gaze. He lifted her head to his and possessed her mouth roughly, his lips covering hers with a bruising contact, his tongue thrusting aggressively into her mouth. She made a little mewling sound and clung to his shoulders, until he pulled abruptly away, and she gave a soft sigh. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You are so beautiful,” he said.

She lay back, weak-limbed in his arms and stared up at her fierce knight. “So are you,” she murmured.

He seemed disturbed by that and abruptly flipped her over. She held her breath and did not wait long for the first crack of his worn leather belt. The intense sting was almost welcome in the state she was in—her perception of pain and pleasure already so blurred from their previous activities. She also welcomed it as the chance to clear the slate with Ferrum—to pay her dues, as it were, for hurting him. He brought the belt down again and again, and she hissed and whimpered under its burn.

Tags: Renee Rose Medieval Discipline Erotic
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