She stared at him biting hard into her lip. A part of her wanted to stall for time and not face what had become her greatest fear. Yet another part of her told her there could be no more deceit between herself and the man she’d come to love.
“Arthen, I…”
“I see it is no longerMaster Archer,” he told her softly, and there was mischief in his voice.
“Well…”
“Wife, for things such as these, it’s customary for a punishment to be bestowed, don’t you think? So that forgiveness can be granted.”
“Aye, but…”
Why was it that she found herself unable to speak in front of this man? Her mouth had already gone dry at his mention of a punishment. Because that wicked side she’d discovered resided within herself was telling her she needed the punishment. She was guilty of deceiving Arthen, wasn’t she? But would he truly ever forgive her for it?
“You think to spank me?” she muttered, unwittingly savouring the words on her lips.
She both craved and feared a spanking from him. And perchance, after the spanking, she’d pluck up courage and tell him what she’d done. Would he be more inclined to forgive her then? She did not know. Yet she did not have time to think as Arthen Archer strode to where she was and pulled her to him.
“I promised to spank you hard next time I punished you, didn’t I?” he said in the same soft voice, now tracing the contour of her lips with his long fingers.
“Aye, with your belt,” she muttered, and instantly regretted her words, as a feral glint danced in his eyes.
“I am glad you recall,” he told her, stepping away from her and then beginning to unbuckle the belt that held his long tunic.
Her eyes fell upon what he obviously meant to use as an implement of her punishment, and she gulped.
“Arthen, perchance it’s best to talk first,” she muttered feeling her face heat and a maddening burn take hold of her nether parts.
“There’s plenty of time to talk after,” Arthen replied in the same level voice as before.
She stifled a sigh, because she’d come to know him in these past weeks. There was a side of sheer mischief to him, and he loved goading her with a punishment just as much as he loved punishing her. And the trouble was that she also loved being punished by him. Calmly, he doubled the belt in one hand and then beckoned her to the kitchen table.
“Just bend over and hoist your skirts. We’ll get this done and over with, and then we’ll talk,” he told her in a voice that left no room for argument.
Emma, who’d always chafed under other men’s command, found herself doing just as he’d ordered, understanding she was just as snared as he was by this wicked game between them. Herface went scarlet, but she complied with what he’d asked of her, feeling the air of the chamber upon her already heated skin. He’d not even touched her as yet, but she already felt a maddening heat in the skin of her buttocks.
He came behind her, and she braced herself for the first lash of the belt, but it didn’t come. Instead, her lover brushed his long, archer’s fingers upon her skin, muttering softly, “Pristine. White skin and not a bit of red in it. It shows you’ve not been spanked in a good while.”
His nimble fingers became bold in their caress and soon slid inside her quim which was already pulsing wet for him. It didn’t take long for her to come to full rapture. And just as her sex clenched in sheer bliss. Arthen replaced his caressing hand with the belt.Swish. The leather of the belt suddenly came upon her skin and she gasped in amazed pain. It stung. More fiercely than she’d thought it would. But she didn’t have time to think upon it. The belt landed upon her skin again, and then yet again, and soon it kindled a sting that she began to find simply unbearable. It hurt. Most of all when Arthen mercilessly used it on that most sensitive spot, at the juncture of her thighs.
Tears came into her eyes at the same time as her sex began to gush and pulse with unspeakable pleasure. Pleasure and pain both mingling. Making her feel free. Freer than she’d ever been in her life. Her bottom must be striped with red and was tingling fiercely when she heard Arthen toss away the belt. He swiftly turned her to face him, trailing the hot tears that were streaking her cheeks.
“Sweet,” he said with a predatory glint in his eye after his hot tongue licked one salty tear falling down her face.
Her bottom burned and she gasped when he cupped her buttocks to plaster her body against his and claim her mouth for a breathtaking kiss. She traced the curve of her lips when he finally released them to step away from her. Tears now flowedfreely down her cheeks, and she did not even bother to wipe them away. She loved him, this man who somehow understood the most secret cravings within her. And she could no longer deceive him.
“Arthen, forgive me!”
“You are forgiven,” he cut her off in a resolute voice.
“But you do not know why I’m asking for your forgiveness. There are things you do not know. And you will hate me when I tell you.”
He shook his head, and he cast her a heart-melting smile which made his unhandsome face utterly beautiful.
“I cannot ever hate you. I love you, you see.”
Emma now began to sob in earnest. He did not love her in truth. He loved Rowena, or, better say, the woman he now thought Rowena was.
“Nay… You don’t understand. I’m not Rowena! Not her, you understand, not her!” she finally said between sobs.