It’s a hump day, Valentine’s! What could be more perfect? Time for a decent spanking, surely? This one comes from my Viking sequel, which I’m currently editing, and we join my protagonists in the middle of a powerful scene…
“Good,” he purrs, rubbing the orbs of my ass with his large palm. “Five more lashes, Aurelie,” he pronounces, “and these will be to your wet sex directly.”
I groan aloud, my only acknowledgement of his verdict before the leather comes crashing down against my exposed lips. The agony is intense and exquisite, shooting through me fast and hard, leaving me ragged with passion. “My Lofðungr, please,” I beg, although I have no idea what my plea concerns.
“That is number one,” he remarks, his voice full of unrestrained glee. “Count the remaining strokes for me.”
“Yes, My Lofðungr,” I gasp, already braced for the next.
It comes soon afterwards, striping my core with heat. “Two,” I breathe, trying to catch my breath as the pain gives way to my simmering, wet desire.
“Good, little sweeting,” he muses, as he lands the next stroke. This is hard and elicits a low, guttural sound from my mouth, and yet still the burgeoning arousal in me grows, pushing the pain to the periphery.
“Three, My Lofðungr,” I count, garnering my control from the excitement. This is the tipping point, the moment when the pleasure begins to outstrip the pain, and I bury my face into the cool covers as my body acknowledges it.
The fourth strike hits my throbbing sex, and this time my hips are pushed back waiting for it. The pain does register, but already it is being manipulated into something sweeter. My core is dripping with need at the intensity, and is testament to how I feel about Anders’ punishment. I mark the number of the stroke, ready at once for the next – and final – swat. As it lands I want to call out in triumph. Not only have I endured his pronounced sentence, but I have learned to enjoy it.
“Five,” I say, fighting to control my fervour.
I hear the sound of the lash hitting the bed beyond us, and the sensation as Anders’ fingers dip into my wetness.
“Oh, my love,” he murmurs as the extent of my arousal becomes evident to him for the first time. “How you love my lash!”
“Yes,” I reply, gasping as he slides two of his large fingers inside me, filling and withdrawing from me in their own sweet, rhythmic way.
“What do you need now, my wilful little girl?” The powerful Viking beneath me shifts, cupping my punished bottom with one hand as he pleasures me with the other.
I moan into the covers, pushing myself onto his digits. “You,” I pant. “I need you, My Lofðungr.”
The sound of his chuckle washes over me again. “I disagree, Aurelie,” he purrs.
His response is unexpected, and I twist my face back to see him. Our eyes connect, his expression thick with sin. “First you must be pleasured to climax, and only once you have found heaven in the indulgence I offer, will I take you.”
If you’ve not already met Anders and Aurelie, then read the beginning of their journey in, The Viking’s Conquest.
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