Owning His Bride (7 page)

She remained motionless and silent, aside from the occasional sniffle. He waited for a few minutes, keeping her held down and bent over the bed.

“Becca, I am not a brute. Why are you pushing me? Are you trying to make me angry? Be honest.”

“I am still ashamed about the medical exam, and I didn’t want you to see me naked again. I was upset you instructed me to do something so embarrassing, I am angry that you own me, and to be perfectly honest, it is so much easier if I hate you.”

Understanding dawned. “I suppose if I’m beating you all the time, you’ll have cause to hate me, won’t you, Becca? Is that why you’re fighting me?”

“Yes,” she said through a sob. “There, are you happy?”

“I’m not like the warden, Becca. I won’t conjure up reasons to punish you, and I sure as hell won’t thrash you severely enough to leave scars.”

“So you say.”

He stroked her wet hair from the side of her face, smoothing it down her back. “I will hold you down during your whipping if I must, Becca, but I much prefer your cooperation,” he said in a soothing tone, hoping to calm her. He released her wrists and she drew her arms up to grip the covers. “Spread your legs for me, little one, and lift your bottom as high as you can. Be a good girl for me and I will not be too harsh with you.”

To his great relief, she moved her legs apart and lifted her backside per his instructions. He rubbed her back for a few more moments, watching as tendrils of damp hair clung to her flesh as he moved her dark tresses around.

“Did you enjoy your bath?”

“Wh-what?”

“Did you enjoy your bath, Becca?” He ran his fingers near the crevice of her bottom cheeks and she shivered.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad. Now, Becca, I am going to spank you with my hand first to get you warmed up for the belt. If you are a very good little girl for me during your hand spanking, I will only give you ten lashes with the belt. Do you think you can be a good girl for me?”

“I-I will try, sir.”

“Keep your thighs spread and your backside offered up to me.” He cupped her left cheek and reveled in her shudder and the little gasp that escaped her throat. He didn’t like the thought of hurting her, especially hurting her enough to make her cry, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t aroused by the sight of her naked and offering her ass up for chastisement.

His cock swelled rock hard, and his mouth went dry when he spotted the telltale glimmer of her feminine moisture between the slightly parted folds of her pussy. She might not want a spanking, but the act of submitting to it, the act of submitting to him, albeit reluctantly, called up her desire.

He placed the folded belt on the bed, intentionally setting it in her line of vision, and put a steadying hand on her lower back. He lifted his other hand from her bottom and brought it down with a resounding slap. She whimpered, but remained in position, even as he rained a second, third, and fourth smack down upon her upturned ass cheeks.

“You were a naughty girl, Becca, to try to come to bed with two towels on after I specifically told you to be naked,” he said, increasing the pace of his spanks. “Now I have to punish you like the naughty little girl you are.”

She gasped and clawed at the covers after he struck her sit spot several times in a row, but her feet didn’t leave the floor, and she didn’t even clamp her thighs together. He paused spanking and stood back to glimpse her center again, and he almost groaned to discover the pinkness within her folds gleaming brighter. He stepped forward, returned his hand to her lower back, and brought his other hand between her legs. He drew two fingers through her slick channel.

“What’s all this, Becca?”

She moaned and clawed more frantically at the covers, fisting them and shuddering against his hand. She didn’t speak, and he didn’t really expect her to answer. Slipping his exploring digits further into her swollen, wet entrance, he pushed all the way inside her, then withdrew only to shove back into her tight channel. A desperate whimper left her, and she moved her bottom against him, as if seeking more of his touch.

“Please,” she said. “Please please
please
.”

They both knew she wasn’t begging for him to stop, but he pulled out of her pussy anyway, wanting to get her punishment over with so they could move on to more amorous activities. He loved her responses to him, and though it probably made him a bastard, he especially loved her blushes and all her noises of distress wrought from her embarrassment.

He resumed spanking her, alternating strikes between her left and right bottom cheeks, until her backside reddened to his liking. Then he caressed her punished globes and watched the rise and fall of her shoulders. She was breathing hard, but she wasn’t crying. Yet. The belt would make her cry. He steeled himself to mete out the discipline she’d earned.

Reaching for the folded leather, he stood back and stared at her for a long moment. She quivered and her whimpers increased. He adjusted his grip on the belt and prepared his aim.

“It’s time for your whipping now, Becca.”

Chapter Five

The belt cracked across her tender backside and Becca cried out. It stung, a horrible sting, but she reminded herself the pain didn’t hold a candle to the agony she’d endured under the warden’s strap. She could handle this, and the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she indeed deserved this punishment. Hunter had instructed her to walk out of the bathroom naked, yet she’d defied him.

Her embarrassment over being nude in front of him had been one reason for her disobedience, but if she were honest with herself, deep down she’d wished to provoke him, wished to experience his cruelty so she could have a reason to hate him. And God, she’d even admitted this to him. Why had she done that? Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut?

She
needed
to hate him. If she hated him, truly despised him, he would never get close enough to her heart to break it.

The belt struck her a second and a third time in quick succession. Tears escaped her eyes and caused her face to stick to the bedcovers. She sniffled and braced herself for the fourth blow, and it landed on her upper thighs with a sharp thud. Though the whipping hurt badly, he wasn’t punishing her as severely as the warden used to.

How many times had she screamed in her prison cell as the warden beat her senseless, how many times had she uttered frantic prayers for her heart to please stop beating so the misery would cease? She had lost count months ago, and now all those desperate hours blurred together into a never-ending stream of pain that made up her two years on Kemmius.

The belt slashed across her cheeks for a fifth time, and though she was crying hard, her tears stemmed more from relief and thankfulness than physical pain. Perhaps her assumptions about Hunter had been wrong. Perhaps he wasn’t trying to trick her, he wasn’t trying to gain her trust only to abuse that trust later and hurt her. No, maybe he was actually a good man. The type of man she never thought she would be lucky enough to have, the type of man she’d only experienced in her daydreaming in the prison.

The daydreams were all that had once kept her moving, kept her breathing. All her freedoms had been stripped from her, but no one, not even the warden, could take away her secret thoughts and the worlds she created in her mind.

“Five more lashes,” Hunter announced, bringing the belt down again, harder than the previous blows. This time the sting knocked the wind from her chest, and she pressed her eyes shut, realizing he meant to drive the lesson home with the last few strokes.

The final lashes came one after the other, slicing across her flaming cheeks at an angle that caught all his previous strokes, renewing the agony of each individual blow. She wept into the covers, her whole body shaking as she released all her pent-up sorrows. Her bottom throbbed, and she turned her head to the side and gasped in air.

Through her haze of turmoil, she became vaguely aware of Hunter sitting on the bed next to her. She tensed, fearing he meant to claim her at this very moment.

She glanced over at him. He still had his clothes on. Their gazes locked for a fleeting second before she looked away, and the brief eye contact prompted her tears to fall harder, because he looked genuinely concerned for her. She tried to burrow back into the covers, but strong arms lifted her up and she found herself seated on Hunter’s lap. She winced as her punished flesh brushed against his pants.

He cupped her face and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead that made the universe spin in a circle around her, the stars and planets crashing into one another with a grand explosion that lit up all the dark corners of her heart. Her sobs receded and she couldn’t tear her eyes from his, at least not until he wrapped his arms around her and gently pushed her head against his chest.

For a small eternity, she wasn’t able to take any air into her lungs. She froze in his arms, not quite believing that he was actually comforting her, actually hugging her as if she meant something to him. He kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair, circling his other arm tight around her, cradling her in his lap.

“Breathe, Becca.” His soft command tickled her ear, and she obeyed, drawing in a slow breath before exhaling even more slowly. “Good girl,” he said after she’d taken a few breaths.

Good girl
. Those two simple words of praise melted her insides. She let his warmth and his scent surround her, never wanting this moment to end. They could stay on this transport forever with her in his arms and the stars streaming by outside the window.

“Shh,” he murmured into her ear. Though her tears had dried up, he kept uttering soothing words to her. She soaked up every touch and every word, loving the feel of his arms encircling her and the heat of his breath whispering past her ear. “Are you all right, Becca?”

Yes. I’ve never been better
. “I-I’m okay.” What was she supposed to say? That this was the first hug she’d had in years and she never wanted it to end?

No, she couldn’t confess that. Not without sounding pathetic and needy. She decided to take whatever comforts he offered her, the briefest hugs and the softest kisses, and be thankful for each one. He owned her. Who was she to make demands of him?

“Put your arms around me, Becca.”

“Wh-what?” She started to draw back from him, but he captured her hands and guided her arms around his waist, then resumed his stroking of her hair while keeping her head nestled against his chest.

“Like this, little one.”

Little one
. He’d called her that a few times. She liked the endearment. She liked too many things about Hunter. If she wasn’t careful, he might sneak through a crack in the walls she’d erected around her heart. She sighed against his shirt, feeling as if she couldn’t get close enough to him.

The steady thumping of his heart lulled her into a relaxed state. For the first time since her father died, she felt safe in a man’s arms. It scared the shit out of her, but she couldn’t bring herself to withdraw from his embrace. She would let him hug her until the transport reached Merro if he wanted to.

“You’re never going back to that prison, Becca. You’ll never set foot on that cold planet again. I promise.”

She shuddered against him. She thought of the markings on her wrists. Wherever they went, people would see those tattoos and know she was a convict from Kemmius, a prisoner bride whose former guard husband owned her.

As if reading her mind, he continued, “The island is secluded, Becca, and no one will bother you there. No one will see your markings unless we go to Emalia, the main island, for supplies.”

“You’re scaring me, Hunter.” She drew back and stared into his eyes.

“How am I scaring you?” He looked perplexed and anxious, and that brought a smile to her lips. He’d misunderstood.

“I feel like you can hear my thoughts.”

He grasped her hands and lifted them higher to examine her wrists. To her shock, he kissed the markings circling each wrist, taking his time as he pressed his warm lips to her skin. She gave a little moan and immediately flushed, ashamed that she had lost control over a couple of kisses. He grinned at her, a knowing smile that helped her relax.

Though they had talked over dinner, she still had a million questions to ask him. Like why he’d chosen a prison guard job on Kemmius over another service job on a warmer planet, and why the warden seemed so afraid of him.

Had he ever been married? Did he have any children back on Earth?

“Kiss me, Becca.”

“I…”

“Don’t speak, little one. Don’t think. Just kiss me.” He leaned down and captured her lips, and all the thoughts buzzing through her head fled along with her resistance. His tongue delved between her lips as he explored her mouth. Cupping her face, he deepened the kiss, and she tentatively kissed him back. He tasted like coffee and mints, and she suddenly couldn’t get enough of him. His stubble scraped her cheeks, and she shifted and groaned at the feel of his hardness swelling beneath her bottom.

He broke the kiss and searched her eyes while still holding her face. “Hunter, I…”

“Be a good girl, lie back on the bed, and spread your legs for me, Becca.”

She gulped. Should she fight him? Desire pulsed in her core, and every cell in her body hungered for his touch. Her lips tingled. She wanted him to kiss her again, and she flushed at the realization. Her resistance waned further, and she glanced upon the bed and the rumpled sheets, then gave him a questioning look.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she hoped he didn’t punish her for her hesitation. “Becca, I am your husband and this is our wedding night.” He put one finger below her chin and lifted her head, forcing her to look him directly in the eyes. His gaze seared her, made her feel like she’d just gotten naked in front of him all over again.

For the rest of her life, he was her husband. She might not know him very well, but they had spoken vows today. It hadn’t been the wedding she’d dreamed about as a little girl with a flowing white dress and grand party, but it had been a wedding. Perhaps she should try to make the best of her situation—while keeping that wall erected around her heart of course, she reminded herself.