"Greedy wench. You will take your spanking; then, if I am satisfied you have learnt better manners, I will give you what you desire."
"Please..."
She sighed as he withdrew his finger, then squealed when he resumed the spanking. This time he was not playing, not teasing her with gentle taps. He dropped one slap after another, alternating between her buttocks and even covering the backs of her thighs. The strokes where her thighs met the lower curves of her buttocks hurt the most and she could not stifle her anguished cries as the pain built, bloomed, burst across her tender flesh.
"Gunnar, master, please. Please, I..."
He stopped frequently to rub her inflamed bottom, as though to work the pain right into her body. But it felt exquisite too,sensual and seductive as he caressed and soothed her, waiting until her cries subsided before picking up the spanking again.
"I am sorry. I will obey you, I swear I will. I never meant... Oh. Aaagh!" She begged, pleaded, sobbed against his shins but Gunnar did not let up. Neither did he pause to stroke and soothe any more. Her punishment was unrelenting and Mairead began to wonder if she truly could endure this.
And suddenly, he stopped. He rested his palm on her blazing, inflamed buttock and pressed gently. "What do you have to say to me, thrall?"
Mairead did not hesitate, she knew what was required and could not get her words out fast enough. Her lack of familiarity with the Norse tongue did not hamper her as she begged for forgiveness.
"I will sleep in your bed, always, and I will obey you. I promise. I am sorry. I thought... I should have asked you, I know that now."
"You make a pretty apology, my slave. I believe spanking you when you require it will prove rewarding, and fruitful."
"Yes, Gunnar." She could think of no better response, though she hoped he would not find cause to repeat this exercise too frequently. Except... her private places were tingling, her inner thighs felt unusually moist. What was happening to her?
"Now, I believe I promised you a reward. It is time to further expand your knowledge of what transpires between men and women."
"Yes, Gunnar," she repeated. "Yes, please." She no longer claimed to possess such knowledge. Indeed, the depth of her prior ignorance became more apparent with every moment she passed in Gunnar's company. And her curiosity soared.
"Now you may remove your sark, and lie across my bed. On your back, your legs spread wide for me."
She obeyed, though not without a lingering wariness despite his promise not to hurt her. He had seemed unusually concerned at the prospect, in fact. The sark landed in a crumpled heap at his feet and she stepped around him to lie on the bed. Her legs, however, remained firmly closed. Twenty-five summers of deeply ingrained modesty were not shed overnight, however tempting and seductive the man.
She half expected that he would order her to spread for him, his tone assuming that iron core of authority which would tolerate no disobedience. He did not, though the wry smile he allowed himself suggested he had noted her reluctance. He leaned over her, his hands on either side of her shoulders, and she shivered in the knowledge that he remained fully clothed whilst she lay naked beneath him.
He curled his sensual mouth in a slight smile. His eyes were the colour of pitch, his hair blacker still as it fell forward to frame his strong features. He had never looked more handsome to her, nor more intimidating. She started to part her legs, then lost all sense of what she should be doing when he lowered his head further to brush his lips across hers.
It had been so long since a man had kissed her. Niall had, on occasion; Alred, never. And no grateful peck to express appreciation after a night of intimacy came close to the sweetly sensual caress of this dark Viking's lips on hers. His tongue teased the seam of her mouth and she parted her lips, then gasped when he plunged inside. Never, never had she experienced such as this before. She opened her mouth wider, intrigued as he stroked his tongue over hers, teasing her, playing with her, inviting her to join his sensual dance. She reached for him, cradled his jaw between her hands and lifted her shoulders from the mattress as she returned his kiss. He leaned in further, his elbows now on the bed as he deepened the kiss. Mairead wasfloating, grasping at him as though he were the one solid entity anchoring her to the earth.
She moaned when he at last broke the kiss, but arched her back as he licked and nipped his way down her throat and across her shoulder.
He did not stop there. Lower he went, to nudge her swollen nipple with his nose, then he opened his mouth and drew the turgid bud between his lips. It felt good, that sweet, sensuous tug as he pressed his tongue on the underside of the pebbled nub, the sensation at once familiar but quite unlike the greedy suckling of her baby. This was lazy, leisurely, playful, and transient as he ventured further down her body.
Gunnar paused to nibble at her belly button. It tickled, and she laughed out loud, wriggling as he held her steady for more.
Mercifully he did not linger long and soon resumed his travels, this time pausing to kiss the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. He would start back up soon, and perhaps kiss her mouth again as he had a few moments before. That would be nice.
"Oh. Oh!" Mairead yelped as he used his hands to part her thighs. This was unexpected, quite bizarre. What was he doing...?
"No. No, you must not!" His intent became obvious at last when he used his thumbs to part the lips of her sex. He was there, between her now widespread thighs, looking at her, gazing at that place which no one should ever see, expect perhaps in childbirth. But not like this, not as though he might like to?—
"Oooh!" The breath left her in a whoosh when he lowered his head and drew his tongue along the length of her slit. "What are you doing? You should not..."
She abandoned her protests when he ignored her and did it again, then again. The sensation was exquisite, quite beyonddescription. Her body hummed with pleasure, despite the wickedness of this Viking's truly spectacular actions.
"Please," she moaned, though she was no longer certain what she pleaded for.
He lifted his head to look at her, meeting her eyes with that stern but steady gaze, that expression of utter confidence and authority which would brook no argument. "I have already explained that what is happening to you is not under your control. You are mine, you know this. I could tie you to the bed, but I prefer not to. You will lie still, and let me do with you as I will. Yes?"
She shook, her entire body trembling under the combined pressure of his will, and her longing for those feelings he had just evoked and which she wished to never end. She had no choice, he was right. And knowing this, she was released, absolved of all responsibility. She could submit, shemustsubmit and he would give her everything she desired and more.
"Yes," she murmured. "Yes, I will be still."
