Page 11 of Her Rogue Viking
“Two. Now relax, you do not wish to drag this out, I am sure.”
He was right, she did not. Fiona willed her tense muscles to soften and drew in a shuddering breath.
“Three. Four.”
She was managing the pain just slightly better now, no longer so shocked by the intensity of sensation. She managed not to cry out, and needed no further reminders to keep her buttocks soft.
“That is good. Five. Six. Seven.”
Fiona writhed against the blanket. Despite her determination to bear this ordeal with fortitude she was unable to remain still, nor could she contain her tears that flowed unchecked across her face.
Ulfric paused to once again lay his palm over her throbbing backside. Her bottom was on fire and she flinched under his touch though he was not rough with her.
“You are doing well. Just three more to go. Shall I continue, Fiona?”
No! Enough!“Yes. Please, just finish this and let me get up.”
He squeezed her flaming buttock briefly and resumed his stance. The switch whistled through the air and landed full across both buttocks.
“Eight. The final two will be on your thighs. These will really hurt.”
Dear Lord in Heaven…
“Nine.” The switch split the frigid air again and pain blazed across her right thigh. Fiona screamed and gasped for breath.One more. Just one last…
“Aagh!” The final stroke landed on her left thigh and despite her best intentions Fiona kicked back hard. The leg-iron rattled as she writhed and wriggled but a firm hand in the small of her back pinned her in place.
“We are done, but you will remain where you are until I help you to move.”
Sobbing, Fiona could barely manage to bob her head to indicate her obedience. She lay still, suspended over the fallen tree, though she flinched as the weight of her rough skirts settled on her punished bottom. Still, she was relieved to be covered once more and grateful that her Viking captor had not seen fit to extend her mortification by leaving her on display. He could have, she well knew that.
Strong hands rolled her over and cradled her behind her knees. Unthinking, Fiona reached her bound hands up and looped them about Ulfric’s neck as he stood with her in his arms. He murmured to her in his own tongue, soft-spoken words of comfort and reassurance, words she did not understand but drew strength from even so.
He carried her over to where the other men had built a fire, and laid her on a pile of furs beside the cheery flames. The warmth caressed Fiona’s chilled face and hands as she lay on her side, her body still trembling. Ulfric dropped another fur overher shoulders and turned away as if he meant to simply to leave her.
“Wait.” The word sprang from her lips before she could think, before she could stop herself.
Ulfric halted and crouched beside her. “I will bring you food. You need to eat now, then sleep.”
“Do not leave me. Please.” She was weeping again as she reached for him with her bound hands. “Please, stay. Just for a few moments.” She could not bear the thought of being left here alone among these fearsome warriors, hurting and humiliated, beaten and humbled before them all. Fiona needed her Viking to stay, to surround her in his warmth and his approval. She needed to know she had his forgiveness now.
“I am sorry that I… that I hurt you.”
He cupped her chin in his right hand, his fingers stroking her damp cheek.
“I know that. And it is over. We will not speak of it again.”
“Over?” She could not quite believe that it would be so simple. “You forgive me?”
“Of course.” He gathered her into his arms and pulled her into his lap. Fiona did not complain as her tender bottom rubbed against the coarse fabric of her skirt. All that mattered was that he was close to her, and that he must not abandon her. She grasped the front of his tunic, curling her fingers around the brass cloak pin holding his warm outer clothing in place. Ulfric pulled the garment forward until it enveloped her too and drew her close in to his chest as she shook and sobbed in his arms. He nuzzled her hair and rubbed his large hand in slow circles around her back and shoulders until her trembling subsided and at last she was still.
“Better?”
Fiona managed another small nod. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome. You will learn, little wench, that I will punish you when you deserve it. Always. But I will also be there to comfort and protect you when you need me. You are mine now, you see, my property, and my responsibility so Iwilltake care of you.”
Fiona might have again contradicted his proprietorial claims, but could find no real inclination to do so at that moment. Instead she leaned against him and closed her eyes.
