Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories (58 page)

She came all the way around, face to face with Haldor.

“What do you think?”

“It’s...it’s huge.”

He beamed. “Yes. And it’s going to be even bigger. This is only the Great Room. We can sleep here at first, over in that corner. And there’s plenty of room for a table in the middle, big enough to share a meal with friends. In the evening, we can pull up our chairs close to the fire. I’m going to work on it while we live here. Add on over time. Bedrooms. First one for us. Then..." He stopped and this time there was no mistaking his nervousness. “There’s plenty of space to build more rooms—for little ones.”

Her heart sank. He meant for them to live here. All alone. Out in the middle of the forest, miles from town. In this big dark stone fortress.

He went to the far end of the room and threw open the shutters covering a pair of wide windows. The winter suns sat low in the sky, flooding the room with their rays.

“You can see the meadow from here. In the spring it will be filled with wildflowers.” He talked faster, wanting her to see it as he did. Wanting her to share his excitement. “The creek flows through it all year long, coming down from the mountains. There’s a doe that brings her twin fawns here to drink. Every evening at dusk. I’ve seen them through the window while I was working on the place.”

“So this is where you’ve been. All those days when you said you’d been hunting, yet came home with only a single hare to show for it.” She frowned. “And all those times when you said you were meeting in Council all day or playing cards with your friends?”

He nodded. “It’s been hard to keep it from you. Kylar, Heinrik, all the others. They’ve been here with me, working hard. We didn’t dare tell any of the women for fear they’d let something slip to you and spoil the surprise. They probably all think their husbands have been out drinking honey mead and gambling away the hours. I promised the men we’d have everyone here for a feast as soon as we’ve moved in. Music. Dancing. And a whole pig roasting on the hearth for hours. It’s the least I can do to thank them all.”

She took another look around. Rays of sun lit up the stone pavers, revealing streaks of honey gold and peach and ivory. He’d obviously chosen them with care. The view out the windows was lovely. A pristine blanket of snow covered the meadow, magnifying the pale winter sunlight to a bright glow. Even from here, she could hear the creek bubbling over the rocks as it flowed through the open field.

Once she hung a few tapestries, the stone walls wouldn’t look so bare and harsh. She thought of Ingrid’s room, made cozy with splashes of dazzling color. Maybe she’d add some bright curtains at the windows, drawn at night to cover the wooden shutters and add a soft touch. She turned to Haldor. His eyes held such hopefulness.

She smiled. “It’s beautiful. Spacious without being cold and grand, like some of the rooms in the Palace. And the floor – where did you find these stones? They’re lovely. The colors...”

He beamed. “Do you like them? I hoped you would. I chose each one. You should have heard Kylar when he helped me lay them. He complained that I sounded like Ingrid fussing over which dress Astrid should wear for a state dinner when we were young. ‘No, no, no. Not that one. Find one with more pink.’ But once he saw what I was trying to do, even he took to examining each one. Holding it in the light, flipping it over and over looking for the best side. You’d be surprised,” he went on, “how a stone can look cold and dark on one side yet have so much warmth and intensity underneath.”

“You’re right. I am surprised. But not just by the stones.” She smiled at him and took his hand in hers. “I love this place. I love you, for all the work you’ve put into it to make it special for us.”

He grinned and for a moment she caught a glimpse of the carefree boy he’d once been. “There’s one more surprise. I’ve saved the best for last.”

He led her to a door she hadn’t noticed in a corner. It led to a narrow hall with another doorway at the end.

“Go ahead,” he urged.

She made her way hesitantly down the dark passage, pushed open the heavy door and gasped.

A rainbow of dancing light poured through a narrow window covered in a stained-glass pattern of glowing crystals. More brilliant crystals studded the walls and ceiling. Emerald green, yellow, amethyst, blue as pure as a tropical sea. Throwing their light on – surely those couldn’t be flowers?

Strange exotic blooms that glowed as well, in a riot of colors, filling the room with their fragrance. She took one step forward, stretching out a hand toward the nearest delicate blossom on the wall. Velvety smooth petals in a soft shade of apricot nestled in a cup of spring green foliage.

“It’s...it’s attached! It’s growing here. Right on the wall.”

Haldor stepped in after her. “They all are.” He stretched out an arm. “Only a few right now. But you’re good with plants. You can grow more. All year round. Even in the dead of winter. I’m told some of them even have healing properties. Maybe they’ll prove useful in your work with Ingrid.”

“But where did all this come from?”

“Remember that trip I took a few weeks back, when you stayed at the Palace? I went to Iridia, through the Portal. I’ve been stockpiling furs for months. Ever since I brought you here. I knew I wanted to do something special. I just didn’t know what.”

He waved a hand around the room. “I traded the furs for Iridian crystals and a handful of their special plants. The crystals give off enough heat to keep it warm in here and these plants grow only under their glow. Mind you, too much exposure to the crystals can be dangerous. That’s why I’ve put them here, at the end of a long stone passageway. You can’t stay in this room for days on end. But for a couple of hours at a time, on the dark winter days...I thought being surrounded with such beauty might make life here more bearable for you.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “This is incredible.”

“Just one more thing. Ingrid tells me this is the way they used to profess their love back on Earth.” Reaching into a pouch at his waist, he brought out a tiny parcel wrapped in a soft cloth. Another crystal, brilliant blue, set in a gold ring. “This one is safe to wear. All the time."

He dropped to one knee in front of her. “Selena Reston, will you be my wife? Will you share this home, bear our children, let me love and protect and cherish you for the rest of your life?”

She looked down at him. This proud Viking warrior, kneeling at her feet. He’d given her so much already. Security. Warmth. Joy. A life filled with passion such as she’d never known. Excitement and adventure she’d only dreamed of in her sterile existence back on Earth. And now – tenderness she’d never imagined he was capable of.

“Haldor, from the first moment I met you, you’ve filled my soul with Light.” She stretched her arms out. “And now you’ve filled our home with it as well. I would be honored to be your wife. And bear our children. And let you love and protect and cherish me – as I will love and cherish you, all the days of our lives.”

He stood and swept her in his arms. His kiss started out soft and gentle, but it grew. She felt his hunger building, sending that wild thrill surging through her. He captured her mouth in a fierce possession that demanded her complete surrender.

He stopped long enough to draw her down onto a strategically-placed pile of furs on the floor that she hadn’t noticed when they walked into the room.

“We’ll wed on the Spring Solstice,” he announced in a tone that brooked no disagreement. “But I plan to start on the children right now.”

“Yes, my Lord.” She lowered her eyes demurely. “May I have permission to speak first, sir?”

He fell into character, as she hoped he would. “You have my leave. Speak,” he replied, the stern note that made her pussy clench back in his voice.

She got on her knees. “I’ve been very good today; doing everything you’ve told me to do. I would ask...no, I
beg
that you begin our life together in this new home by giving me the spanking I deserve, my Lord.”

Without waiting for an answer, she bent over with her head resting on the soft furs and pulled her skirt up to the waist, revealing her naked bottom.

“Since you’ve begged me, I will do my duty as head of this household.”

His hand roamed over her bare cheeks. He delivered the first spicy smack, then dipped his finger into her pussy to find her already wet. She moaned.

He smacked her again, just hard enough to send a stab of lust through her. Then he sat up and pulled her over his lap. His cock already hard, straining against the rough fabric of his trousers.

“Oh, it’s a needy wench I have here! Prepare yourself, woman. And don’t you dare move. Or this spanking is going to last a
very
long time.”

Selena turned her head and met his eyes. Then, with a saucy grin, she wiggled provocatively on his lap.

About Kallista Dane

Kallista Dane is a #1 Bestselling author in Sci-Fi Erotica and a Top Ten Amazon bestseller in multiple genres, including BDSM, Western, Contemporary and Romantic Erotica.  She loves to write about strong, independent women and the hot Alpha males who appear in their lives to deliver a spanking when they expect it least and need it the most. 

Kallista is happily married to her own erotic Knight, who provides her with endless cups of Cowboy Coffee when she's writing and lots of inspiration for her next naughty scene when she's not.

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Chapter One

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A
riel’s stomach fluttered as she stepped up to the porch of her parents’ house.
Work. Early morning meeting. Wish I could stay longer
. She planned her exit before slipping inside. She was a mere forty-five minutes late, but the party was in full swing. As if she’d been waiting, Trudy, her stepmom, made a beeline. “Ariel!” Her face wreathed in a smile as she hugged her. “I’m so glad you came!”

“I wouldn’t miss the big bash,” she lied. She would have preferred a private pity party over her stepmom’s annual Valentine’s Day get-together, but she’d skipped too many family affairs and couldn’t disappoint her parents again.

She kissed her stepmom and gave her an awkward one-arm hug while balancing a dish of deli potato salad. Her heart thudded against her ribs.
Is he here?
She scanned the crowded living room.

“Here, let me have that.” Her stepmom relieved her of the bowl. “I don’t take anything for granted. You’re all so busy.”

If anyone had an excuse to be absent, her stepbrother, Hunter, did. He lived the farthest away, with a four-hour drive, but Ariel was the biggest offender, having missed more family events than both her siblings combined.

Her stepmother embraced her again. “I’m just so glad to have all my children with me.”

All
my children. Her mouth went dry. “Reagan and Hunter are here already?”

“Reagan’s in the kitchen. I saw Hunter a moment ago. He’s with Sienna.”

Out of the crowd, her stepbrother materialized, his arm decorated by Sienna, dressed to the nines in a low-cut slinky dress and shoes to make a hooker proud. Were they dating again? The idea churned her stomach, but she forced a smile and hugged him. The brief contact with his hard-muscled chest had her inhaling his scent and then cursing herself for doing so.

“Good to see you, kiddo.” His voice slid over her like warm honey.

“I hate it when you call me that—hello, Sienna.” She nodded at the other woman.

“Hello.”

“I know.” Hunter grinned.

Sienna smirked. “I forget,” she said, peering up at him. “How much younger is your
little
sister?”

Ariel ground her teeth. She’d never liked Sienna. She was all wrong for Hunter.

Would you ever admit a woman could be right for him?
Probably not, but Sienna definitely wasn’t it.

“Seven years,” Trudy answered for him. “Hunter was seventeen, Reagan eleven, and Ariel ten when Jake and I married.”

“You guys are like the
Brady Bunch
,” Sienna said.

Trudy laughed. “But with half the number of kids.”

The comparison had been made before. Following the death of his wife when Ariel was a baby, Jacob Peyton had played Mr. Mom until he met Trudy Willows, a widow with two children. They had married and blended two families. There had never been his kids or her kids; both parents had treated all the children as their own. In eleven-year-old Reagan, Ariel had found a sister and a best friend.

In teenaged Hunter, she’d worshipped a hero. He’d been a high school
senior.
To her ten-year-old self, he’d been so grown-up, so mature she’d developed a major case of puppy love. She’d followed him around, soaking up every word, every gesture, every casual affectionate instance when he called her “kiddo” and ruffled her hair.

People had found it cute the way she’d crushed on her older stepbrother. He’d been good-natured and indulgent, letting her tag along, smiling instead of grimacing. Her world came to a crashing halt the night of his prom. She’d locked herself in her room and cried buckets, vowing to never reveal her feelings again.

Everyone assumed she’d gotten over her crush. But she hadn’t. Her infatuation had gotten stronger, matured.

Now twenty-five, she loved him still. The hurt from prom night hadn’t receded but deepened every time she encountered him with a woman, every time she saw
him
, every time he treated her with
brotherly
affection, because it reinforced what could never be.

Although they were no more related than two strangers, to him, to their parents, to his many girlfriends, he was her older brother.

One day, he would ask one of those girlfriends to be his wife. At thirty-two, Hunter wouldn’t remain a bachelor forever, and, when he married, it would kill her.

So Ariel stayed away, returning only when her supply of excuses ran out.

“I’ll put this in the kitchen and let you kids talk,” Trudy said. “Sienna, could you give me a hand?”

“Sure, Mom.” Sienna gave Hunter’s arm a squeeze and trotted after Trudy.