Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
He put his hands upon her hips to hold them still. He was so sensitive at the moment, even her feigned apologies excited him. He’d taught her the game, but she carried it to a new level.
“Never forget this punishment can be repeated at any time for future offenses,” he said, pulling away. He traced his fingers over the stripes on her bottom, earning a lovely shudder. “Now, you shall have the ginger back in for fifteen minutes while you think about your punishment, and what you did to earn it.”
He took off the clips and unbound her, so her arms would not become stiff from being overhead. Instead, he made her clasp her hands at the small of her back and keep her forehead pressed to the wooden pole. “None of that,” he said, when he noticed her pressing her pelvis against it as well. “Your forehead only. If you aren’t a good girl, we’ll have to begin again.”
Ah, fifteen minutes would be just enough time for him to be ready again. In the meantime, he sat upon the high-backed chair where he gave her over-the-knee spankings as needed. Weren’t they always needed? He watched her squirm and try to compose herself. His beautiful Rosalind, his angel. His naughty angel.
“If I have to tell you again not to press against that pole,” he warned.
She straightened and looked back at him. “I like pressing against poles. Your pole anyway.”
He tried not to smile, tried to remain stern, but it was hard. Very hard. He rose and washed himself, though he imagined he’d probably bugger her again shortly. They both seemed in that sort of mood. Would he bend her over the bench next time, or make her kneel on the floor? Or perhaps take her against the wall? He could do any of those things and she would still love him. How lucky he was, lucky to have her, lucky to bask in her love.
Over the past few months, he’d learned not to question any more if he was good enough for her. He would never be perfect, but he made her happy and that was all that mattered.
“Come here,” he said when her fifteen minutes were over. “Come here and kiss me.”
“Yes, sir.” She went into his arms, still holding her hands behind her back. She was his, truly his, and he thanked his lucky stars for it. He would work to be deserving of her, work at it with every fiber of his being as long as he lived on this earth. She was worth it, worth everything.
Their eyes met in silent confirmation of love and eternal commitment. They’d endured opposing parents, deadly storms, and horrible kidnappings but it didn’t matter. They’d always belonged together, and always known it.
“Naughty wife,” he whispered, pulling her into his lap.
“Naughty husband,” she whispered back, meeting him kiss for kiss.
THE END