A bone-weary Bronson climbed the hillside, inhaling the scent of the sea. Stars sparkled above, and the full moon shone bright upon the trees. He paused at the top of the hill and glimpsed the moon and stars’ reflection in the water. It was past midnight and the men from Cimastown had set up camp in the woods. They would arrive tomorrow, all of them safe having barely suffered a scratch. Bronson had been so eager to see Anna that he continued in the darkness. He would sleep once she was in his arms.
The glow of candles, many of them, filled the windows of the cottage. Bronson smiled, touched that Anna had sent up so many prayers in his absence. Then he frowned as he entered his home. Candles burned on the windowsills, much too near the curtains. Wax dripped on the furniture and the floor. He spotted Anna, slumped over the table in the kitchen, holding a burning candle in her hand.
Right next to her head.
Locks of her hair were spread out on the surface, and it was a miracle she hadn’t set herself on fire. He extinguished the candle in her hand, then quickly moved to blow out those that threatened to ignite the curtains. The silly girl.
He removed his sword belt and hung it on a rack near the door. Anna stirred and sat up, blinking. Her eyes widened with joy when she saw him, and she jumped up so fast her chair fell backward with a thud.
“Anna,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. Gods, how he’d missed her. Too many moons had risen since he’d held her in his arms.
Her worried gaze swept over him as she approached. “You’re unhurt?” She touched his chest tentatively, and when he nodded she lunged at him, hugging him so fiercely she cut off his air. She pulled back to rain kisses on his face, even atop his scar. Tugging his shirt out of his trousers, she reached up to press her bare hands to his chest.
All thoughts of scolding her for being careless with the candles fled. Holding her face between his hands, he claimed her mouth, his tongue darting inside as he took command of the kiss, tasting her and loving her like a starved man setting upon a feast. He had missed her smiles and her tinkling laughter. He had missed her soft body next to him at night. And gods, how he had missed holding her in his arms and listening to her breathe.
“You came back. You’re all right. I knew you would. I prayed for you. Constantly. All day and all night.” She moaned when his teeth dug into her shoulder, branding her with his bite.
All the worry and longing he had felt during his absence coalesced into a frenzied passion. He tore her nightdress over her head and ripped her drawers in the process of yanking them down. She stepped out of the torn fabric and peered up at him, all large blue eyes and flushed cheeks. Her hair was spread out over her shoulders and chest, and he brushed it aside to capture a nipple between his teeth, tugging and biting the stiffened peak as she whimpered in his grasp.
“Get on the bed, Anna,” he ordered as he began stripping off his clothes. “On your hands and knees. Present your bottom to me like a good girl.”
A fresh blush colored her cheeks, but she obeyed, moving onto her hands and knees on the bed. He loved taking her from behind. Loved slapping her backside before surging into her tight, slick warmth. Loved spreading her bottom open and teasing her tight little hole as he relentlessly pounded into her.
Bronson approached Anna, fisting his ready cock as he knelt behind her. He swatted her upturned bottom, delighting in her moans and whimpers.
“Aside from almost burning the cottage down with your carelessly placed prayer candles, were you a good girl while I was gone, Anna?”
She peered at him over the shoulder he’d bitten. “No, sir. I regret to inform you that I was very naughty.”
As he slid his cock along her wet folds, he arched an eyebrow at her. “Were you?”
“Oh yes. It’s fortunate you arrived home when you did. I am in dire need of taming, husband.”
She waggled her bottom at him and pressed against his rigid cock. He slapped the backs of her thighs with one hand and tangled his fingers through her hair with the other, holding her in place as he delivered a series of sharp blows. The room filled with the sound of slaps and her distressed cries. He finished with a few well-placed smacks to her lower bottom before moving away, trying to decide how best to deal with his errant wife. Eyeing the tempting crevice between her reddened mounds, he stood up and took Anna with him, pulling her by the ankles to the edge of the bed, where he forced her to bend over.
“Anna, I want you to reach back and pull your bottom cheeks apart.”
She whimpered and shook her head into the covers, refusing his command. He cleared his throat and reached for the hairbrush.
“Little dove, that wasn’t a request,” he said as he rubbed the smooth, flat side of the wooden brush against her backside. “Do you want a spanking with the hairbrush?”
“No, Bronson, please!” She clawed at the covers, trying to pull herself across the bed, but he held her so firmly in place that she didn’t even gain an inch.
“I’m only going to ask one more time, Anna,” he said in his sternest voice. “Reach back and pull your bottom cheeks apart. I want a good look at that tight little hole of yours.”
He waited ten seconds, and when she failed to obey or respond to his order in any way, he set into her bum with the hairbrush. The wood thwacked across her flesh, and he spanked her hard and fast while she kicked her little feet and cried out. He paused and set the hairbrush aside, cupping her inflamed, punished flesh.
“Spread your bottom or I will apply the hairbrush to your thighs, Anna.”
A sob erupted from her as she complied, reaching back to pull her red cheeks apart with trembling hands. Her tight bottom hole clenched and unclenched as he tapped at it while praising her for being a good girl. He glimpsed a copious amount of moisture glistening on her slightly parted cunny lips, and his cock jerked at the sight. As he continued to prod her most secret entrance, he leaned over her to tell her of her punishment.
“Naughty wives have to take their husbands here.”
She gasped and tried to rise up, but he kept her pressed down on the bed.
“Oh!” she cried. “I was joking. I wasn’t really naughty while you were gone.”
Of course she wasn’t. Yet he ignored her plea and spread her natural moisture over her quivering rosebud, suspecting she’d find pleasure in the carnal act. Her releases were more intense when he had a finger submerged in her bottom, and he planned to coax her to the heights of pleasure while he thrust his hard length into her snug hole.
“Relax, little dove. I promise not to hurt you.”
Once he coated her rosebud with the slick essence from her center, he dragged his cock through her lips, covering the head of his shaft with her moisture. He pressed his hardness against her bottom hole while he worked a finger over her clit.
“Let me inside, Anna.”
She gasped. “I-I’m trying.”
He stroked her back for a few moments, pausing mid-thrust. “Relax, my sweet. You’re being a very good girl for me right now, and I’m proud of you. We’ll take it slow.”
“All right. I trust you.”
Her words were a balm to his soul. Stoking her clit, he circled it with precise motions as he pressed down on the pulsing nub. The moment she relaxed and lifted her hips to seek out more pleasure, he pushed the head of his cock into her bottom hole.
“Good girl,” he soothed. “Now open up more, Anna. You’re going to take all of me.”
Inch by inch, he worked his way inside her tightness, all the while rubbing her cunny and drawing sweet moans from her. She panted over the bed and clutched the covers, but she was no longer trying to climb away from him. Her responses and slight resistance enthralled him, and once he was fully seated in her bottom hole, he praised her again, stroking her back and petting her hair while he remained still within her.
“You belong to me, Anna, don’t you? All of you.”
Her hips rose up and down as she moved her wet center against his fingers. He played her like a song, caressing her and drawing the sweetest notes from her. But the sweetest notes were the words she spoke next.
“Yes, Bronson. I belong to you. Always.”
* * * * *
Anna nestled against Bronson’s chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. She breathed in his scent and squeezed him tighter, thankful to have him home after such a long and dangerous absence. She was sore and felt used, but also strangely cherished. Under his firm guidance she’d soared past the peak of ecstasy. She’d shattered into a thousand tiny pieces and he’d been there to put her back together. An ache roused in her feminine core as she thought of the way he’d filled her up completely, taking his time until she stretched to accommodate his size before he’d begun thrusting. Stars had danced in her vision as a pleasure unlike any she’d experienced with him before took her under. The pulsing waves of her release had left her screaming and sobbing and shaking.
Bronson had gathered her close and kissed her. Told her he loved her. Wiped away her tears. At the present, her senses were returning slowly, and once she fully recovered she sat up and clasped his hands.
“Tell me what happened.”
The grave look in his eye told her all hadn’t gone smoothly, and she hoped the rest of the men from Cimastown had fared well. He squeezed her hands and sat up, drawing her closer.
“After a few days of searching and sneaking around, I found your father asleep in the secret room behind the castle library. I’d snuck in through the underground tunnels and come up through the dungeons, so the Rastians were quite surprised when I dragged King Mendel up to the main hall and turned him over. After a long negotiation, William and the rest of the new Iverson City leaders were freed. The Rastians were understanding of our plight, and they were touched by your gift.”
Anna held her breath, sensing there was something important he hadn’t told her yet.
“Tamlen’s body was discovered in a closet, a knife in his back, and your father confessed to killing him.”
Confusion swept over her and she straightened, feeling an odd constriction in her chest. It was sorrow, but not because she grieved for Tamlen, but because he’d never been the older brother she’d desperately wished he were. The brother she would have liked to grieve. A brother who would stand up to their father. A brother who would step in and pull her out of the fountain, rather than standing by with a sinister smile. Of course, being the only son and apparently cut from the same cruel cloth, he had always been her father’s favorite child. It didn’t make sense that her father would put a knife in his back.
“Why?” Anna croaked, meeting Bronson’s apologetic gaze. “Tamlen was always the golden child.”
“Apparently they had a difference of opinion in dealing with the revolutionaries. Tamlen wanted to try to kill William in his sleep. King Mendel wanted to start by poisoning the food in the kitchen. There was more to their argument, but it doesn’t matter. Your brother is dead and your father will face judgment once he’s on Rastian soil.”
“I saw the ships leaving. Was that all the ships? The Rastians have all left?”
“Yes, my sweet. The Rastians are gone, but I think our new leaders will have a good relationship with them, despite their rough start.” Brushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear, he kissed her forehead, and she melted as his warm lips brushed over her skin. “You won’t believe what I saw before I left Iverson City,” he said in an animated voice, and she knew he meant to distract her from the tragedy that was her family.
“What?”
“A Merrister and Sons trading vessel entered the harbor. The public port is open and trade has resumed. One of the first things William and his men did was send missives to the neighboring islands, declaring open trade and inviting any and all ships to sell their wares in the marketplace. He gave the Iverson citizens the old weapons and armor from your father’s soldiers to trade.”
Anna smiled, genuinely happy that Iverson City would once again prosper. She hoped the wounds inflicted by her father’s brutal regime would fade soon to make way for happier times. “The men from Cimastown?”
“All safe.”
She blew out a sigh of relief. Thank the gods.
“I cannot believe you lit so many candles and left them burning while you slept. Where did you find them all?”
Frowning, she crossed her arms and glared at him, probably laying on the pouting act a little too thick. “They were prayer candles. Not regular candles. There’s a difference, you know. The priest let me have them, and he blessed them for me twice.”
He fixed a stern look on her that made her insides quiver. “New rule. No more than five prayer candles burning at a time. They will not be placed near curtains or anything else flammable, and you will take care to blow them out before you fall asleep.”
She started to roll her eyes, but Bronson flipped her over his lap mid-roll and thwacked her bottom hard, over and over again. Squirming, she attempted to dodge the blows, but he pressed a hand to her lower back and held her in place. Her bottom was sore enough, and apologies streamed from her mouth.
“I’m sorry, sir! It won’t happen again. The irresponsible candle burning. Oh! And the eye rolling — so sorry!”
Righting her on his lap, he caressed her back while she calmed down. He hadn’t spanked her hard enough to elicit her tears, but it had been close. She blinked the moisture back and shyly met his gaze. He’d spanked her dozens of times since she’d become his wife, but she still couldn’t get used to the embarrassment that accompanied each discipline session, before, during, and after. Especially after and especially during corner time.
As if reading her thoughts, he nodded at the corner beside the bed. “Move your red bottom, Anna.”
Sighing to herself, she climbed out of his lap and took the familiar position in the corner, bringing her nose close to the converging walls. She parted her legs slightly and arched her bottom out, her nudity heightening her shame. Her breasts felt heavy and ached, her nipples so hard and abused from his ministrations that they burned against the cool air.
After a small eternity, Bronson approached and massaged her sore backside, inspecting her as she held position. She knew from experience that moving, especially closing her legs, would result in further spanking. Usually with the hairbrush or his belt. She closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her, her legs shaking as he discovered a drop of moisture rolling down her thigh.
“You must be having some naughty thoughts, Anna. I might have to spank you again.”
She moaned and arched her center into his hand, then ground against his exploring fingers. Too soon he withdrew, leaving her whimpering and bereft. Biting her lip, she reined in her desire and concentrated on keeping her feet planted on the floor, lest she feel the bite of his leather belt.
He grasped her wrist and guided her back to the bed. Weariness tugged at her, but she didn’t wish to fall asleep. Not yet. She’d been apart from Bronson for too long. She wanted to stay awake with him, loving him, until she collapsed from exhaustion.
“Lie back and spread your legs wide.”
She obeyed, feeling flushed all over. He settled atop her and suckled on her breasts, easing the stinging ache with delicate laps of his tongue. Heat coiled in her lower belly, winding tighter and tighter as he moved lower, kissing her stomach and then—
Oh, Gods! Her hips jerked up on their own as his tongue danced over her pulsing button. Jolts of sensation rocked her, leaving her shaken and desperately seeking more. Then it became too much, and she couldn’t breathe through the pleasure as he latched onto her tight bud, suckling it as he’d done to her nipples. “Too much! Oh, please stop!” She gasped for air and tried to close her legs, but a swift slap to her thigh halted her.
“Legs spread, Anna. If you move out of position again, I will spank your little cunny lips.”
His threat shocked her into silence, and she stared at him for a moment before parting her legs to his liking. Pressure built as his tongue returned to her stiffened nub. She gripped the covers as he alternated sucking and licking the delicate button. He inserted two—possibly three—thick fingers into her slick channel and created a steady thrusting motion. Then his warm tongue descended again and she became lost in pleasure as she bucked against his mouth. Her hands delved into his hair, and she cried out as she convulsed around his fingers.
She fell asleep almost immediately, passing out in Bronson’s strong arms as he pulled her against his chest. When she awoke hours later, she opened her eyes to find him smiling down at her. The morning sun spilled across the covers and warmed her legs.
“You must be exhausted,” she said. “Have you slept at all?”
“I drifted off for a few minutes, but I much prefer to watch you sleep, my sweet princess.”
“I dreamed about you.”
“Oh?”
She grinned. “Oh yes, it was a splendid dream. We had six children. Three girls and three boys. We lived right here in this cottage, but we had several rooms added. Oh, and we had another child on the way. In the dream we were arguing over whether it would be a girl or a boy. Having been with child six times before, I was certain it was a girl, but you stubbornly insisted it was a boy.”
“Well, what was it?” Bronson asked. “A girl or a boy?”
“I don’t know. I woke up too soon.” A giggle burst from her and she sat up. “I forgot to mention the best part. Your hair!”
Touching his midnight black hair, he gazed at her warily. “What about my hair?”
“It was as white as snow.” She laughed at his dramatic frown and made a show of inspecting his head. “Oh my. I see a white hair right now. Here, let me get it.”
“Anna,” he said in a warning tone.
She plucked a hair from his head and scooted to the edge of the bed, trying to escape his retaliation. An arm wrapped around her and she soon found herself staring at the floorboards, upended over his lap. He swatted her bottom twice before pushing her down on the bed and kissing her soundly.
She hoped the dream came true, white hair and all.
THE END