Where the devil was she heading? She was going towards the back of the house, turning corners, almost as if she was trying to trip him up and lose him.
Edwin began to pick up the pace, jogging after her, cursing under his breath. At this point it didn’t matter the reason, when he got his hands on her he was going to blister her bottom. Not just for her attitude towards him or her lack of communication, as frustrating as that was, but he couldn’t allow her to actually throw things at him and then run without there being some kind of repercussion for such behavior. Although thinking about disciplining her was not assisting his pursuit of his wife, because of his inevitable reaction to thinking about turning her creamy little bottom a dark, hot red.
He’d already been somewhat aroused in the library, almost enjoying the contest of wills between them. So had she, despite the way things had ended. He was able to read her body language enough to know that she had been fighting her rising desire.
Ignoring his amorous thoughts, Edwin abandoned his dignity and began to run, determined to end the chase. Hearing his pounding footsteps approaching, Eleanor glanced over her shoulder and squeaked, blue eyes big with anxiety, and darted to one of the servants’ staircases. The one leading to the kitchens.
He caught her about five running steps into the kitchen, sta
rtling Cook and her assistants as they were washing and peeling vegetables for dinner that night. The staff stared at their master and mistress, shocked to see them disheveled, red-faced and out of breath.
“Everyone out,” Edwin said, his tone flat, tight. Still in command, no matter the situation.
Eleanor whimpered, a barely audible sound under the sudden rush of footsteps hurrying from the room. Fortunately it was too early in the afternoon for anything to actually be cooking, so the temperature of the room was fairly reasonable. He kept one firm arm around her waist as the staff fled, enjoying the feel of his wife pressed up against him, her soft bottom snug against his groin, her every breath panted against his restraining arm. Trying to distract himself from his desire to bend her over the table in front of them and sink into her immediately, his eyes wandered around the room, landing on a large wooden spoon and he grinned, hit by sudden inspiration.
Quickly he wiped the expression off of his face. No matter how much he might enjoy punishing his wife, the truth was she very much deserved it and it would not do for her to think anything otherwise. He truly was quite angry with her, but he was relieved that he could also find something to smile about in the situation. While he had every right to be angry, he would not punish Eleanor unless he was in control of himself and his emotions.
Which, thanks to the minute it took for the kitchen to empty and his male interest to completely rouse, he was able to reign in his temper.
"Edwin," she said in a shaky voice, practically trembling in his grip. If she hadn't just thrown something rather heavy at his head, unprovoked, less than ten minutes before he might have felt some pity for her. “I-I-“
"Bend over the counter Eleanor," he said in a cold voice as he released her and put his hand in the small of her back, pushing her forward. She stumbled and he moved to catch her but she righted herself quickly enough. Still, she turned around fast enough to see that he had positioned himself to help her, before he snapped himself back into place and looked down at her. Those big blue eyes were filled with what looked like true remorse and a few tears. She took in the expression on his face, the determination, and silently, slowly turned back around, facing away from him.
Placing her hands on the counter, she lowered her upper body onto it, biting her lip. This was going to be her first real punishment since their honeymoon and she knew that it was going to hurt... so why was her heart thumping with excitement? Why did the area between her legs fell swollen and wet? What kind of woman was Edwin turning her into?
"Very good," Edwin murmured, pleased that Eleanor hadn't protested or tried to talk her way out of being disciplined. Although, of course, she'd already tried to run and been caught so perhaps he shouldn't be too impressed with her current obedience, but it did give him a thrill that she'd meekly bent herself over the counter before him. "Now reach across and hold onto the other side."
It was at just the right height that she had to go up on her tip toes to truly be able to put her weight onto the surface. By obeying his order for her to reach across, she was actually placing the full weight of her body on the counter, her legs dangling down so that her toes were barely brushing the floor.
“Edwin, I’m sorry,” she said, quite truthfully. The chase had worn down her chaotic emotions and now all she felt was guilt and regret. “I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to lose my temper that way, I’ll never throw anything at you ever again.”
“No, no you won’t,” he said softly as he tucked up her skirts around her hips. He laughed softly at what he discovered. “No drawers, Nell? Are you sure you didn’t anticipate this?” Eleanor whimpered but didn’t answer as she felt the air of the kitchen on her bare thighs and bottom, unsure if she was whimpering from fright or arousal. She could practically feel the heat of her husband’s gaze on her private areas, knowing that they were basically in a public room where anyone could walk in at any minute, adding to the illicitness of the situation. “Is that all you’re sorry for?”
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the countertop. Of course, he wanted an apology for her behavior at the wedding that morning.
“No,” she said. “I’m also very sorry for making you chase me around the wedding brunch this morning. And around the house just now.”
“Hmm,” he said as he picked up the wooden spoon, knowing that she couldn’t see what he was doing. “You don’t sound very sorry about this morning. But I believe I know how to fix that.”
THWACK!
Eleanor shrieked. That wasn’t his hand! The impact area was far too small, far too stinging to be his hand. It bit into her tender skin much more harshly than the blow she’d been anticipating. Her head swiveled around to see Edwin standing behind her, large wooden spoon in his hand, holding it up for another strike.
“Stop!” she cried out.
THWACK!
“You attempted to injure me with a wooden object,” Edwin said calmly as he rubbed his hand over the two dark pink imprints on her creamy bottom as Eleanor gasped and half-choked on a cry. “It seems only fitting that you now be spanked with one.”
THWACK! He made a third imprint, admiring the way the spoon almost immediately turned the areas of impact a dark pink, but he’d lightened his blows a little as he could also see that the effect was much greater on Eleanor than his hand would have been.
“It hurts!”
“It’s supposed to. Now don’t let go of the counter or we’ll have to start all over again.”
Tears burning in her eyes at the indignation and stinging pain, Eleanor clung to the countertop and swallowed back a howl as the spoon bit into her tender bottom again. Even worse, the pulsing burn had an answering throb from her core. The realization that some part of her body was enjoying this, even if it was out of her control, only made her angrier.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!