A Proper Lord’s Wife (Properly Spanked Legacy #2) Read Online Annabel Joseph

Categories Genre: Erotic, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Properly Spanked Legacy Series by Annabel Joseph
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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“It’s very soft,” she said, with forced politeness. “I think I would like to go to bed.”

“Let’s talk together a moment first. It can be difficult to weather your first spanking, I know. But I hope you’ve learned something.”

After a moment, she sighed. “I learned that I hate being spanked.”

“Indeed. Going forward, you must consider your behavior’s consequences, especially now that you’re married.” He put a finger beneath her chin and made her look up at him. She looked awfully tired. “The nice thing about being punished is that you’re absolved afterward. I forgive you for bringing your snake to Somerton and sending my horses into a panic.”

“And you into a panic.”

“And me. I have barely come to know you. I wouldn’t wish to lose you already. I was afraid you’d be hurt, Jane.”

“I was hurt just now,” she said. “By you.”

Those amber-gold eyes of hers, part sullen, part apologetic…

“You know what I mean,” he said, resisting the urge to kiss her. “You’re my wife and I wish to protect you from any harms, now and always. I care for you, no matter what you think of me at the moment.” He felt her tense spine relax the smallest bit, and drew her closer, now that his erection was not so obvious.

With a faint, tired sniffle, she laid her head upon his shoulder. Her hair was down, so he felt its velvet softness against his chest.

“I suppose it would have been awful if your horse had injured me…or killed me,” she said, as if she were just now contemplating what might have happened. “It probably would have hurt terribly, to be trampled. Even more than the spanking.”

“It would have hurt far more, and it would have been tragic.”

He ran a hand up and down her arm, soothing away the last of her sniffles. “Are you feeling any better now?”

“A little.”

She turned her face into his neck, even as she shifted uncomfortably on his lap. She was not like any woman he’d known, not graceful and polished as he would have liked, but holding her now felt strangely pleasant. She was not the wife he’d wanted, but she did need him to teach her discipline. She was not perfect, but they had something upon which to build a marriage, even though it was not the marriage he’d envisioned for himself.

“It’s been a very long day,” he said, when he felt her growing heavier against his chest. “A very long pair of days to travel from London. I think we both ought to rest tonight.”

“Mm. Yes, my lord.”

He stood, lifting her in his arms, and carried her across the hall to her bedroom. The blankets were turned down and the fire banked for the night. He laid his wife down gently, setting her head upon her pillow. She was nearly asleep, worn out by the spanking, he supposed. Her eyes blinked open as he released her, gazing at him with intensity, with some question. She held his hand a moment, then let it go.

He paused, looking down at her tousled, long hair. The candle at her bedside reflected upon the strands, made the orange-red tone more vibrant. He was tempted to lie down beside her and take her virginity when she was in this sleepy, pliant state, but he wouldn’t. He wanted her first time to be pleasant, to be meaningful to her, even though he’d probably have to fantasize about Ophelia to perform with appropriate passion. Jane wouldn’t have to know.

“Good night,” he said.

“Good night, my lord.”

“You must call me Townsend now that we’re married. Or Edward, if you wish.”

“Edward.” She drew it out in a sleepy whisper as he tucked the blankets around her and blew out the candle.

No, he would not stay tonight, but tomorrow he would bed her. It would solidify their marriage far better than a disciplinary spanking, and she would likely enjoy it a great deal more.

Chapter Six

Customary Intimacies

Jane opened her eyes and stared at the vase of white carnations on her side table. Somerton must have a hothouse for forcing flowers in the cold winter months. The thought of such an enterprise raised her spirits.

Then she turned onto her back and winced, her spirits plummeting again. It hurt just to move, because her sore, sensitive buttocks would brush across her nightgown’s fabric or the smooth scented sheets and bring to mind her spanking from the evening before. It seemed a cold, gray winter day indeed, knowing she had to face him after he’d disciplined her in that manner. She’d been so embarrassed, her feelings so injured, to be spanked over his lap like a child.

But then, afterward, when he’d held her in his arms and comforted her…

Well, that had been an entirely different feeling. In that moment, she’d felt warm and safe sheltering against his chest, even as her bottom throbbed in pain. His daunting size for once felt like a desirable thing in a husband. She’d felt so cozy resting against him, once she calmed down from the spanking he’d given her.


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