Page 26 of Her Dark Viking
"I am not young," she protested, "and I have borne two children."
"How old are you?
"Twenty-five summers, Jarl."
He did the calculation. She must have been young when she was first wed. Despite her words, and even knowing she had a son of seven years, he would have guessed her to be not yet twenty, though such details were immaterial to him.
"I repeat, you are beautiful. And you are mine. Do you accept both these truths?"
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I do not understand. What do you want of me?"
"I want nothingofyou, just you, yourself."
"It is true then, I am to be your bed-slave."
"You will share my bed, yes."
She lowered her gaze again. "I do not fear this, if that is what you are expecting. I have been wed twice, and widowed. I am no stranger to what transpires between men and women. I can submit to you in this way, if that is what you require."
Something in her resigned acceptance struck him amiss. She seemed unusually acquiescent, and whilst he desired her submission he found he did not much care for this subdued compliance. The flame in her fiery hair was not echoed in her deferential demeanour and he would not have it.
"Look at me." He cupped her chin and held her face still so she could not break his gaze. "I desire you, and I shall have you. We both know that. But not by force. You will be safe with me, and I will take care of you." He searched her deep green eyes for some clue, something he might say to awaken the spark he knew must be there, lurking hidden beneath the maternal cares and female vulnerability. "Despite your marriages and the advancing years you claim, I believe you know very little of whatcantranspire between a man and a woman. I believe you still have much to learn, and it starts here, now." He released her chin. “Go stand by that tree, rest your hands on the trunk and lean forward."
Now her lovely eyes widened, darkened. She was afraid.Would she do as he asked?
Slowly, with obvious reluctance, Mairead moved toward the tree he had selected. It was a pine, tall, the trunk straight, smooth and free of branches to a height well above both their heads. She reached for it and placed her palms on the grey bark, then turned to regard him over her shoulder.
"I am not sure what you wish me to do."
"Lean forward, bend at your waist and arch your back. I want your bottom high and your shoulders low."
She blushed crimson as she turned to face the front again, but his instructions were clear enough and Gunnar was gratified when she shuffled her feet away from the tree and bent as low as she could. The woman was trying. She wanted to appease him but this was hard for her. He could only guess at the violence she had experienced at the hands of men in the past, and he did not wish to draw this out.
"Six strokes. They will be hard but you can take this, and you will learn from it."
"Yes, Jarl. Please, be quick..."
The timing of her punishment was for him to determine, but he would not take issue with her on this right now. Instead, he unfastened the pin which secured his great wolf skin cloak and dropped the garment to the ground, then he unbuckled his sword belt. Mairead flinched again at the sound of the leather coming free, but she held her position. Her shoulders were stiff, her legs straight. Her pretty, pink quim was just barely visible, the delicate lips of her cunny quivering between her upper thighs. He wondered if he should instruct her to spread her legs and allow him a decent view of what was his.
Perhaps, on another occasion...
Gunnar positioned himself behind her and slightly to her left. His belt, doubled with the buckle contained within his fist,dangled from his right hand. With his left hand he caressed her smooth, creamy buttocks.
"Such a sweet, round bottom, Mairead. You will bear well the marks I shall give you today, and you will remember what it is to trust."
She did not reply. He had not expected her to. Without further preamble he lifted his right arm and swung the belt.
8
"Aaagh!"
Pain exploded across both her buttocks. Mairead let out a shrill cry and made to stand.
"Do not move." The stern command pinned her in place as surely as if he had bound her to the tree. Mairead dragged in a harsh breath and braced for the next stroke.
Gunnar did not keep her waiting. There was a whooshing sound as the belt swung again, and a streak of fire snaked across her upper thighs. Mairead screamed and her knees almost buckled beneath her.
"Steady yourself, and tell me when you are ready to continue." His voice was low and compelling and utterly in control. It was that air of iron-willed mastery which gave Mairead the courage to continue without pleading for him to stop. He would hurt her, hewashurting her, but he had sworn he would not harm her and she believed him.
