Free Anne's Courage [Le Club 3] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Skye Michaels Page B

back and landed a lightly stinging slap on one of her butt cheeks with the small riding crop that had been tucked in one of his boots. Its business end had a small leather clapper shaped like a hand. She yelped, but already being on her tiptoes, she was helpless to evade the second light blow to her other cheek that followed quickly. “Now, I will have the truth wench, or you will feel the wrath of my whip.”
    “Please, please, My Lord. I am innocent!” she cried as he flicked two more lightly stinging blows, one to each rapidly reddening cheek. The first two blows had stung, but the second two were strangely erotic, bringing a flood of hot cream to her pussy. “Oh, My Lord, please don’t whip me. I will do anything you say. Maybe my father will pay you a ransom for my safe return. He has already contracted a marriage for me with Lord Churchill with whom he wants an alliance.” Geez, I’m running out of names for lords! Her breath burst out, her breasts heaving in agitation.
    “Too bad for Lord Churchill,” he said. “I plan to have my way with you on that bed in the corner this very night. If your father plans to ransom you, your virtue will already be forfeit.” The front of his pants were straining over his enormous erection, and he pressed up behind her, nestling this straining cock in the crack of her bottom. Oh, God...He felt so good . He ran his hand down her spine and over her bottom before he gave her another swat.
    “My Lord, please reconsider,” she said desperately. “My value will be severely reduced if I am no longer pure.” She was thinking quickly. This is hard work! “Lord Churchill will expect a virgin.”
    “Well, his expectations will be unfulfilled,” he said. “Your maidenhead is mine! In fact, I may just keep you as my personal sex slave and the hell with Lord Churchill and any ransom.”
    “My Lord, perhaps you can negotiate an alliance with my father. He might consider you for my husband instead of Lord Churchill.”
    “Why would I negotiate for your hand when I can have you in my bed at my will?”
    “Because I have an enormous dowry in gold and jewels,” she said. “My Lord, you are very virile and handsome, and Lord Churchill is old and fat, has gout and bad breath. I would rather be your sex slave than his wife,” she said, nestling her bottom tightly against his straining shaft.
    She saw the calculating look come into his eyes, and he said, “I think I will have your willing body tonight and your dowry later.” He un-cuffed her hands and lifted her into his well-muscled arms. He carried her to the heavily carved bed in the corner of the room and deposited her on the tapestry coverlet.
    He joined her on the bed. He licked her nipples and then nipped them sharply. He stroked his hand over her wet pussy. “Spread your legs, wench. Your Lord and Master is going to claim your maidenhead.” He knelt between her wide open thighs and ran his tongue through the cream coating her open, wet pussy and over her pulsing clit. She screamed in delight as his tongue plunged into her channel, and he grazed over the little bundle of nerves at her apex. “Remember, no coming until I give you permission, wench,” he warned.
    Oh crap! That again! I think that’s the hardest part of this whole submission gig. She was dismayed . I feel like a virgin about to be ravished for real! “My Lord, take me please,” she begged. The whole exercise had left her quivering with need. This is really powerful stuff, even if it is a game! Lust shot through her, jolting her cunt with electrical impulses that sizzled through her system. She felt a hunger so intense she thought she might die of it.
    “Do not rush me, wench. I am the lord of this castle, and you will serve my needs and desires. I plan to take you all night,” he promised in that dark, sensual, hard-as-steel Dom voice. He resumed his slow, sensual torture, kissing up her stomach to her breasts. He circled his fingers around her pebbled