Free Rocky Mountain Bride (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 2) by Lee Savino

became more and more firm, until her cheeks felt quite hot in the cool evening air. Miles stopped and squeezed her flesh harder.
    “Are you ready to submit and receive your correction?”
    “Yes, sir,” she said, trembling.
    His hand fell and she tightened her grip on her skirts. The spanks came quickly, crashing down on her bare flesh and making her gasp. These strikes would be nothing next to the switching.
    It was over too soon. Miles’ large hands worked over her heated flesh. “That’s it, Carrie. You’re taking your punishment well.”
    She let her head sag over the gate, ignoring the hens that ventured towards her, clucking curiously. They seemed to be heckling her.
    “Stay here. Skirts up.” Miles left to cut the switch. When he returned, one of his hands went to her back to steady her. “Three from this side, then three from the other.”
    The fresh switch sliced across her backside with a whipping sound, followed by a jagged flash of pain that throbbed wildly.
    “Oh.” She winced, and then the tears started to flow. Two more strikes and she cried out and writhed a little against Miles’ hand.
    “Steady,” he warned. “Be still.”
    He waited until she quieted before changing sides.
    “I’m going to give you three more strikes. After each, say ‘I will always close the gate’.”
    “Yes, sir,” she said. Felt it proper to call him sir.
    “Good girl,” he muttered and there was a pause as he positioned himself.
    This time, when the switch cut into her flesh, she almost dropped her skirts. Tears flowed faster and she hung her head, whimpering in pain. After a moment, she realized why her husband was waiting. “I will always close the gate,” she said.
    “Good girl,” he repeated and stepped close enough to take her skirts from her hand. “Put your hands on the fence now. I’ll hold your skirt.”
    Once positioned, she waited for the telltale whistle and crack of the switch. It came, and she flinched, but remembered her lines. “I will always close the gate.”
    “That’s it, one more.” Her husband’s voice, warm and comforting, came to her, and the final swat and line repeated, she collapsed a little, sobbing.
    She started to reach back to rub her sore rump, and he caught her hand. “Keep your hands on the fence for a few minutes,” he said. She obeyed, leaning forward further as she felt him arrange her skirts so her backside would remain exposed. “Think on your lesson until I return.”
    Hanging her head, she wished her hair would cover her face. The chickens all moving about the yard, giving her disapproving glances.
    It seemed hours had passed before she heard him walk up behind her.
    “Stay still.” His hands traced her weals carefully before smearing some thick unguent over the hurt. The sting didn’t fully leave, but it dulled enough for Carrie to breathe a sigh of relief.
    “All right now.” Miles pulled down her skirts and she straightened. He turned her to him and held her; she hugged him back.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, words muffled in his shirt.
    “I know you are, Carrie girl, and you’re forgiven. The slate’s wiped clean.”
    They stood leaning on each other for a moment. Miles didn’t seem eager to move; his broad hand rubbed her back, lulling her into contentment.
    Finally he kissed her forehead—she felt a little thrill when she realized what he’d done—and took her hand.
    “Come see your wedding present.”
    She followed Miles into the homestead, wishing she could rub her bottom, but not quite daring to disobey him.
    He stopped just inside the doorway, then stepped aside. He’d pushed the old stools to the side and placed the new chairs at the kitchen table, Esther’s shawl draped over the back of one of them. The larder was overflowing with new food, including some fancy jars filled with delicious, colorful contents.
    “How lovely,” Carrie started to say, when her husband caught her shoulders and turned her to face the bed. She didn’t