The Knight's Prisoner (Medieval Discipline 1)

It was not till later, when Sir Ferrum had left the tent and was taking the ribbing from the men outside with good humor, that she realized how stupidly she was acting. This man was keeping her against her will. She should not be throwing herself at him like a cat in heat. Especially since it seemed her need for him was only growing.

Chapter 4

“Sheep's. Cunt. Those are the only two words I have to say to you right now, Ferrum. Go lick one!”

Ferrum sighed and gave Dani five more hard spanks before he pulled her up to stand. He was tempted to send her to fetch a switch, but spanking clearly wasn't working. It was not even remotely effective. Respect had to be earned—he couldn't beat it into her. They'd been at odds for days now—he'd delivered spankings as often as three times a day to no effect whatsoever. She obeyed him well enough outside the tent, but it was the disrespect that was the problem. So it didn't truly merit the strap or a switch, yet she continued to sass him and resented her spankings.

Oddly, she still offered herself up to him, night after night, seeming to want him even more after he'd spanked her. And God help him, he couldn't possibly keep his hands off her when she tempted him. He'd flip her on her back and pinion her wrists, possessing her roughly before she could protest, not that she ever did.

She was standing before him now, her legs spread into a wide stance, her eyes flashing defiance, daring him into action. He needed to change his approach with her.

“Do you wish be in charge of me, Danewyn? Because I will follow.”

“When donkeys sing,” she sneered.

“I am completely serious.” He rubbed his hand over his scars. “Two people can't lead, and you clearly resent my leadership, so I will follow you.”

She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowed. “What kind of trick is this?”

He shook his head. “No trick.”

“Oh, and I suppose you'd let me beat you like you beat me?”

“You may do as you wish to me. I doubt you'll find that effective, but I'm sure you can come up with punishments that are. I will obey you, so long as your orders don't interfere with the prince's. ”

She looked at him warily. “You jest.”

He shook his head. “I do not jest. I'm not afraid of taking orders from you.”

“Take off your clothes,” she tested him.

He stood up and disrobed while she watched, the mistrust melting slightly from her face.

“Lie down. On your belly,” she said, indicating his bedroll with her chin.

He obeyed. He heard the rustle of clothing and turned his head to the side to watch her remove her outer dress, then pull his sword belt off the heap of his clothes. She stalked over to him with unmistakable purpose. His ball sack tightened. The thought of her whipping him was arousing. She stood at his side and swung the belt, catching his arse in the downward arc. The bite of it was a welcome sensation. His cock hardened. She lifted her arm again and swung again. He saw the darker tips of her nipples through the thin linen shift, and the movement of her breasts as she swung the belt over and over again. Her face was flushed, and her focus on her task intense. Her aim was poor, sometimes striking his legs and sometimes his back, but he didn't mind. The sting of the leather added to the rising heat flowing through his veins, a molten lust that was rapidly transporting him to some other place, where only the two of them existed.

She paused, her breasts bouncing, her fine silky hair slipping free of its braid. “I'm not hurting you at all, am I?” she panted. He couldn't speak. Something in his face must have given him away, because her eyes narrowed. She nudged her foot under his hips. “Roll over!”

He rolled over, and his cock stood at full attention.

She made a noise of indignation. “You find this arousing? So, this is the trick of it!”

He smiled guiltily. “I didn't tell you to whip me,” he reminded her. “Mayhap it's not the whipping but the state of your undress that has me aroused.”

Her mouth twitched with a little smile. She swung her leg over him to straddle him standing, so he had a full view of her sex—that dark pink heart he so longed to caress. She was watching his face, and she must have liked what she saw, because her lips curved into a seductive smile. She'd seen the power she had over him. Slowly, sensually, she pulled the shift up, revealing more of her legs, then the provocative curves of her perfect arse, traveling up over her flat belly, and finally freeing those magnificent bobbing breasts as she pulled it off her head and tossed it to the ground.