Claiming His Wife (42 page)

Even though she was on top, Alex
controlled her every movement, taking her hard and deep, fucking
her ass with the ginger, and sending her into a maelstrom of
intense rapture.  She screamed his name as she came, feeling
him join her only moments later, filling her with his seed.
 

Hazy warmth enveloped her, soothing
her aches, caressing her body, and she floated in a sea of comfort.
 The only sound that pierced that cottony enclosure of
happiness was the soft, deep, beloved murmur, whispering the same
thing over and over again. 

"Sleep now, sweetheart... I love you,
Gracie."

******

Looking over her shoulder one too many
times proved to be her doom.  Cynthia's horse balked at a
fallen tree trunk across the path.  She almost cursed too, but
the sudden memory of soap flickered across her taste buds and she
immediately bit her tongue.  That was all Wesley needed to
catch up to her though, he knew the Manse's woods much better than
she did.  It had only been a matter of time, but truthfully
she'd been enjoying the chase and had hoped to keep it going a bit
longer. 

"Get off the horse."

Cynthia tossed her head, looking a bit
like a fractious mare herself.  "Or what?"

The white gleaming smile that flashed
in the shade of the trees was not encouraging.  "Or instead of
punishing you, I'll drag you back to the house, tie you to our bed,
and leave you there for the rest of the afternoon."

She only hesitated for a moment.
 Then she got off the horse.

"Good girl," Wesley murmured,
dismounting as well, now that his wife had both feet firmly planted
on the ground.  She scowled at him, but he could see through
her.  Cynthia needed the excitement, the pain and the
pleasure, as much as he did.  She craved it.  But only if
she felt like she really earned it.  Bedroom games occupied
them the rest of the time, but every few weeks she needed to
misbehave in a way to earn herself a truly rigorous
punishment.

Which Wesley was always happy to
provide.  

She got a regular spanking at least
twice a week, but eventually she always needed more.  Yet,
when the time came, she fought against her punishment, tried to
talk or seduce him out of giving it to her, and he knew that if she
ever succeeded she would be incredibly disappointed.  The
fight was part of the thrill for her, almost as if she craved being
forced to his will.  The idea that he might take her back to
the Manse and leave her restrained, without any kind of
gratification, was probably horrifying to her.

It was certainly a punishment that he
planned on using sometime, when she had truly earned it.  The
withholding of pleasure.  Except that he wouldn't just leave
her there... no, he'd tease and torment her body until she was
begging him for release.  Today's silliness didn't amount to
such a punishment though. 

"Pick a switch."

"What?"

Wesley gestured to the tree beside
him.  "Pick a switch."

As he gathered the reins of both
horses and began to lead them to a different nearby tree to tie
them to, Cynthia gaped at him.  "You want me to pick my own
switch?"

"Better hurry or I'll do it for
you."

Excitement and apprehension tingled
through her at the dark look that went with his threat.  She
might never understand why she became so aroused at being punished
by her husband, but did it really matter why?  There was
something wrong with her, she knew that, but it made both of them
happy.  The idea of being switched... it made her tingle even
as it terrified her.

The tree he'd indicated had plenty of
thin, whippy branches.  Biting her lower lip, Cynthia found
one that wasn't too thick, but wasn't too thin.  She tried to
break it off at the base, but the limb was strong.  A second
later, heat pressed against her backside as Wesley's arms came
around her and he used a knife to cut the slender branch.
 

"Good girl," he murmured in her ear.
 "Now go bend over the tree and lift up your
skirt." 

Cynthia hurried to the fallen tree
trunk, already anxious to get the bad part of being punished over
with.  Watching her, Wesley smiled darkly as he began to trim
the branch, peeling off the bark, while her bare bottom began to
squirm as she waited.  He was careful to make sure the switch
was smooth, so that there would be no chance of splinters.
 

At least she'd learned her lesson
about waiting.  He did love to keep her anxious, never knowing
how long he was going to take before he began the punishment.
 One time, he'd added five minutes to the wait every time she
spoke.  After that, she'd never tried to hurry him along
again.

Bending the limber switch
into a loop, holding both ends, he approached her from behind. For
a long moment he just admired his target, smoothing his hand over
her creamy bottom and tapping it lightly.  She moaned a
little, sounding both scared and excited.  When he slid his
fingers through her pussy lips, they came away wet.  Wesley
licked her cream from his fingers before stepping
back. 

"Hold still," he warned
her. 

SWISH!  SNAP!

The shrill cry echoed around them as
Cynthia's body jerked.  The loop he'd made out of the switch
had caught her simultaneously on the bottom and the top of her
curved cheeks.  She pressed herself hard against the tree, her
body instinctively trying to get away from the painful, stinging
implement.

SWISH!  SNAP!

Fortunately there was a branch on the
other side of the fallen tree that she could grab onto, holding
onto it for dear life to keep herself from reaching behind and
trying to cover her bottom.  If she risked her hands in such
an endeavor, Wesley would be furious.  He loved her cries of
pain, but only when it pertained to torment that he was
purposefully inflicting.  

SWISH!  SNAP!

The thin red lines on Cynthia's
bottom, combined with her mournful cries, were making Wesley's cock
throb with need.  Fuck she was gorgeous like this, bent over
and vulnerable, taking the punishment that they both knew she
deserved, that she craved even as she cried out in pain.
 Every time a blow landed, her pussy clenched.

The thin welts burned,
stinging at her skin like angry bees, drawing sobs and tears from
her, despite the dark need that welled inside of her.  Wesley
was careful not to overlap the lines too much, taking his time to
ensure that he didn't draw blood as he laid a delicate tracery of
welts across her bottom.  They almost looked like lace, as
they crossed each other. 

When he finally stopped, Cynthia's
legs were trembling and almost her entire weight was being
supported by the fallen tree.  She was lost in a haze of
sensual need and erotic pain, and she had no idea how much time had
passed before he was suddenly pushing into her pussy.
 Moaning, she wanted to lift her hips to meet him, but her
legs were too weak.  It burned when his body pressed against
her body, shoving her hard against the tree.  Her skirts
protected her tender skin from being scraped by the bark, but there
was nothing to protect her welted bottom from the rasping of
Wesley's body against it.

She cried out, shuddering in ecstasy
as he pumped his hips, fucking her hard and fast.  Since their
wedding night, Wesley had taken her in all manner of different
positions, but this was one of her favorite.  Bent over and
taken from behind, feeling his cock sliding inside of her, over the
sweet spot, as his hands dug into her hips.  Somehow she felt
his domination even more like this than when she was tied face-up
to the bed. 

Pulling out, his cock covered in her
juices, Wesley pressed his cock against the tight rosebud of her
anus. 

"Oh no, please!" 

Cynthia's face heated as
her rear channel opened for him.  It hurt as her muscles
stretched.  He didn't take her back there often enough for her
to truly become accustomed to it, enjoying the struggle every time
he did.  So she also never really quite got used to the shame
of enjoying such a perverse act.  Deep down, she knew she
loved it, but that just made her blush more furiously, protest more
adamantly.  If Wesley ever stopped taking her in this manner,
she would miss it, but she couldn't admit that, not even to
herself. 

"Ow, ow, ow," she muttered as he
pushed deeper, not heeding her plea.  It took her breath away
every time he sank into her ass for the first stroke, making her
feel so full, like there wasn't room in her body for air.  "I
wasn't that bad... it was just a race!"

"Which was whose idea?" Wesley asked,
holding her hips tightly as he watched her crinkled anus stretching
around his cock, all of the little wrinkles smoothing out to
accommodate his girth.  Her silence confirmed his supposition.
 "So not only did you get your friends into trouble, but then
you ran from me."  His voice lowered, growing gruffer as his
cock was engulfed fully into her ass.  Holding still for a
moment, feeling the spasms of her tight sheathe around him, he
leaned forward to whisper in her ear.  "I think you deserve a
little bad girl sex, don't you?"

She moaned, half in denial, half in
pleasure, as he began to drag his cock back out of her body.
 Clinging to the branch on the other side of the trunk, she
suddenly realized that this might be why she liked this position so
much.  Because whenever he took her from behind, she wasn't
just out of control, she was completely vulnerable to him.  He
could play with her anus all he wanted and there was nothing she
could do to stop him.

Her pussy dripped as he began to fuck
her ass, hard enough to make her squeal and yelp, the burning
friction fighting with her rising pleasure.  Every slap of his
body against her bottom made her cheeks jiggle, the stinging welts
feeling like they were flaming brands tracing her skin.
 

The overwhelming sensations were
making her toes curl as a rising tide of ecstasy began to overtake
the effects of her punishment.  Her ass clenched and spasmed
as his cock slid over that sweet spot from the other side, making
her gasp and cry out, writhing before him as he impaled her over
and over again.  Cynthia's sobbing breaths were interspersed
with Wesley's grunts as he ravished her aching bottom, skillfully
pulling her from stinging pain to abject pleasure.

Their combined shouts of climax echoed
through the woods around them.  Cynthia clawed at the fallen
tree as she came, her tight ass milking Wesley's cock, sucking his
hot jets of cream deep into her body.

When they returned to the Manse, it
was on foot, leading their hoses by hand, in deference to Cynthia's
painful rear.  They walked between the horses, holding hands
all the way.

******

"Out," Edwin ordered as he handed over
the horses.  "Take them for a long walk to cool down," he said
to the young groom who took the reins.  The rest of the stable
staff had already scattered at his command. 

Shifting back and forth on nervous
feet, Eleanor tucked her hands into her skirt, anxiously fisting
the fabric as she waited for his attention to come back to her.
 It returned after the door to the stables were closed, his
dark, furious gaze making her tremble a bit.  But this was
what she wanted... his attention.  His discipline.  His
recognition that she was able to act as his wife again.  That
she wanted to.  Needed to.

"What were you thinking?" His question
cut through the air, sharp and heavy with frustration.

Eleanor tilted her chin up, knowing
that her stubborn pose never failed to needle him.  "I was
thinking that I deserved to have some fun."

"Fun?
 
Fun?
 
You think risking your health and safety is
fun
?"  He advanced on her, his
jaw clenched, eyes glittering with anger.  It was rather sweet
how protective he was of her, or it would be if it wasn't so damned
frustrating as well.  Hiding her smile, she rolled her eyes
instead.  Baiting the boar.

"My health is fine - as I've told you
- and I was perfectly safe.  I'm a very good rider and I know
these lands like the back of my hand."

For a moment his jaw
worked soundlessly, as if he was trying to get out an argument but
was having trouble thinking of one.  Stopping his advancement
about a foot away from her, she could practically see the thoughts
churning in his head.  Holding her breath, she prayed that he
would come to the right conclusion.  If he didn't, she
wouldn’t be liable for what she did next.  Kicking him would
be the least of it.

"Your health is fine."  The flat
statement didn't sound at all like a question, but she answered
anyway.

"Yes."

"You think you're fully
recovered."

"Yes."  The defiance in her voice
rang with challenge. 

Edwin's cock was hard as a rock as he
struggled to keep his emotions on an even keel.  The flashing
rebellion in his wife's bright blue eyes, her saucily tilted chin,
her prodding, was all designed to make him lose control and he knew
it.  

"Then let's test that.
Strip."

His voice was hard, demanding, but he
couldn't fail to see the excitement flare on her face at the
command.  Clenching his fists, he thought swiftly through his
options.  Part of him still worried that he was going to
accidentally harm her, so he would need to be careful and not allow
her to divest him of all his self-control.  Another part of
him recognized that she must truly feel ready, since she was
willing to take a punishment in order to receive his love-making as
well.