Claimed by the Mountain Man (9 page)

Chapter Eight: Warmth in Winter

Jack held the woman in his arms and listened to her soft snoring. Her response to punishment had been to tease him, and her manner of doing so had ignited lust that had lain dormant in him for a long time. He recalled the way she said
master
softly, with a tremor in her voice and a coquettish twinkle in her eye. He felt his cock stir at the mere thought of it. He’d taken her with the instinctual need of a wild animal, and she’d responded enthusiastically to his domination. Knowing that Nettie had been with other men before him didn’t twist him up inside like it would have done to his former self. He could tell by the look in her eye and her reckless abandon that he was the only man in her thoughts during the act.

Nettie let out a loud snore, which made him roll his eyes. He doubted his effectiveness at scaring her into obedience. If she wanted him to hold her and felt safe enough to fall asleep in his arms, he didn’t imagine she was very intimidated by him. Maybe that was all right, he thought after a while. He wasn’t going to let her go back to living in the cave anyway. Now that he had her where he wanted her, he could ensure her safety without such a heavy hand. Jack stood and carried his favorite catch to the bed, where he wrapped the two of them up in a quilt. He quickly found sleep along with her.

* * *

“Trapper Jack,” Nettie said, tugging at his arms, which were fastened heavily around her body.

He released her and groaned, then rolled onto his back. “You know that’s the second time you’ve woke me up earlier than necessary in the morning,” he said grumpily, his eyes still closed.

“Sorry, but I wanted to tell you that I’ve decided to stay here with you. I won’t live in the cave anymore.”

He was silent for a moment, but then he chuckled and opened one eye to look at her.

She looked surprised. “What’s so funny?”

He yawned and gazed at the ceiling. After a moment, he said sleepily, “I’m glad you’ve decided to stay, even if you didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

She said nothing to that, and when Jack looked at her again, he found her glaring at him. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes flashed with anger. “You might at least give me the illusion of free will, you big bully.”

Jack shook his head and with a weary sigh, sat up and hauled her over his lap. She let out an outraged shriek of protest, which quickly became pleas as his hand planted smack after smack on her wriggling bottom, still pink from the spanking the night before.

“No, please. Ow! Why are you spanking me?”

His hand fell crisply over her exposed seat. She’d worn only his shirt to bed, and he lifted it so she felt the full force of every swat. “Because it seems you need a reminder of who’s in charge.”

“Owww,” she moaned pitifully, and tried to squirm away. “You’re in charge, Trapper Jack. I know, I know!”

He grasped her to him and continued the spanking. “You will watch your tone with me, young lady, and you will not become petulant when I tell you the truth. This isn’t high society, and I’m done pretending you have a choice in what happens out here. You remember where you stand or mark my words you’ll get a licking twice a day.” He gave her one terrific final swat and said, “Now get your naughty red bottom out of bed and go make breakfast. And no more lip unless you want the switch again.”

She scurried away from him and got to work lighting the fire. He scoffed to himself.
The illusion of free will.
Of all the nonsense she could fling at him! He rose and shrugged into his duster. He would feed the chickens and release the mule to the clearing of grass before breakfast. As he buttoned up, he saw Nettie peeking back at him with a smirk.

“What is it, naughty Nettie?” he asked, unable to keep the tease out of his voice. He knew by the way she looked at him that the punishment had aroused her as much as it had hurt.

She grinned. “Do you think maybe after breakfast, you could show me just how in charge you are,
master
?”

He arched an eyebrow. “You want another spanking?” he asked, pretending not to understand.

Her eyes widened. “No. I want…” Her voice trailed off, and her cheeks reddened.

“Better tell me what you want right quick, or it’ll be another spanking.” He walked to the door and lifted the wooden plank that kept the door shut.

“I want you to do what you did last night.”

“Right,” he said, with a curt nod. “Spanking it is.” He opened the door.

“No!” she wailed. “I want you to make love to me, Trapper Jack.”

A slow grin spread over his face. “I see. Was that so hard to say?” He walked out and closed the door behind him before he chuckled. He heard a pan slam down on the oven and laughed even harder. He would allow her that fit of temper, since she waited until he was outside to display it.

Jack attended to his morning chores and spotted a purple germanium on his way back from the coop. He waffled for a moment, but then he picked it and brought it with him inside. Nettie glanced at him from where she bent over the oven, and her gaze traveled to the hand that held the flower. Her face was flushed with the heat from the steam, and her features took on a questioning look as he approached her. He held out the flower to her and noticed that some roots still dangled from it. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all. She took it from him slowly.

He held his breath, waiting for her response. Would she laugh? For some reason, it was much easier for him to claim her body than to offer her a flower. He relaxed when her eyes softened and she smiled, reached up, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Jack bent to kiss her.

Nettie had said she wanted to make love, and that’s what they did. He took his time and got to know her body intimately. He kissed each freckle along her arms and ran his finger through her hair. Raking his hands lightly down her face and neck, he paused on her breasts, where he lingered to fondle and rub. He marveled at the two perfect pink nipples that hardened in between his thumb and forefinger when he applied slight pressure. She sighed and responded to his attention by opening up her arms and legs, like a flower blooming before his eyes.

As they lay beside each other after they were spent, he thought to himself that Nettie was the best thing that could have happened to him. Never had he been so happy to face the first snows of winter. He wanted an excuse to take her to his warm bed as often as possible.

* * *

The days became colder and shorter, and the two of them worked together to ensure their survival and comfort over winter. Nettie gathered kindling while he chopped down trees and added to his collection of wood in the woodshed. She preserved huckleberries and gooseberries and squirreled away nuts to store in the cellar. Preserving meat was a bit more difficult, but when Jack showed her how to rub it down with salts daily and after place it in the cold keep, she didn’t need to watch him a second time. She took over that task with ease. She taught him a thing or two also, the most significant being how to make soap out of ash, animal fats, plant oils, and salt.

Although he deferred to her occasionally, there was never a question of who was in charge. Jack made the rules, and his orders were usually delivered sharply with no room for discussion. He didn’t budge in his opinion that he knew what was best for them and how best to practice survival in the woods. He was a stubborn man very much unlike her soft-spoken and indulgent husband, but she realized as the days passed that she loved him just as much, only differently, than she had loved her husband.

She began to suspect that he loved her too, and the day she first allowed herself to believe it was after a punishment. Jack told her that was to sharpen her knife on a stone every third time she used it. Nettie thought this was excessive and told him as much. He shook his head. “Better to be safe. A dull knife is more dangerous than a blunt one.”

She didn’t see how this could be true until the day she tried to skin a beaver with a blade she hadn’t sharpened for some time. Because she had to apply extra pressure to cut the hide, the blade slipped and sliced her thumb. She let out a cry before she could think to stifle it. Jack heard her cry and came running. Grabbing her hand, he examined the cut. There was quite a bit of blood and it hurt terribly, but it wasn’t too deep. Jack cleaned the cut with his usual calm, stern manner and wrapped it with a length of fabric that came from one of his old shirts.

She thought her injury might exempt her from punishment, but the exact opposite was true. He pulled her over his knee an hour later for the longest, hardest spanking she’d ever endured. Between swats he scolded her harshly, saying there was no doctor for miles around to help if she’d cut off her thumb. He bared her bottom and spanked her until she was sobbing, contrite, and vowing she would never disobey him again. Even when he finished spanking her, the punishment wasn’t over. He relegated her to a corner in the cabin, where she stood for some time with her smarting bare bottom on display. When she managed to stop crying, Jack ordered her over his lap again.

“No,” she wailed. “I can’t take anymore. I’ve learned my lesson, Trapper Jack!”

He pointed at his knee and gave her a stern look, so she obeyed as tears filled her eyes once again. Luckily, he didn’t spank her. Instead he used the time that she lay over his lap to rub her bottom and make sure she understood the reason for the punishment.

“You scared me, Nettie. I don’t make up rules for fun. They’re for practical reasons, and I expect you to take them seriously.”

“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said, hiccupping.

He continued to caress her. “You know I wouldn’t punish you for a mistake, right? Only for disobeying.”

She nodded. “Yes, I know.” He was very strict, but she knew he was fair too.

“Good girl.” After some more caressing, he gathered her into a hug on his lap, and she nearly fell asleep as he held her close and rubbed her back. She felt very loved in that moment.

She felt loved during his rough lovemaking too, when he took her and left small marks on her body, marking it as his. On a rainy day in October, she swept the floor, humming to herself, and she felt his gaze on her. When she looked at him, he said in his low, warning voice, “You swept yesterday. There’s no need to do it again.”

She felt a shiver creep down her spine. This was their mating dance. He would make a comment about her behavior, and she would respond by needling him. “If you didn’t track in mud all the time, I wouldn’t have to sweep every day.”

Nettie watched him rise slowly from the sofa, and she inhaled sharply. She felt that delicious mixture of fear and anticipation when he ambled toward her. His jaw was set, and his gaze could have melted snow. When he reached her, he took the broom, set it aside, and turned her around slowly. He held her wrists firmly behind her back in one of his hands.

“You think it’s wise to talk to me that way, naughty Nettie?” His voice was deep and threatening.

“No, sir. I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly.

“Not yet, but you will be.” He wound rope around her wrists.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked in a small voice.

Jack wrapped his hand around her throat and pulled her head to his chest. Her breath hitched when he bent and nipped her earlobe and then growled into her ear. “First, I’m going to spank that lily-white bottom of yours until it’s as red as your hair.” His hand tightened, just enough to cause her discomfort without cutting off her air.

She felt her drawers grow damp. “No, please don’t spank me. I’ll stop sweeping,” she breathed. Oh, how she loved this game, which felt so real in the moment, though she knew he was only finding an excuse to dominate her.

He ignored her plea and continued. “After I punish your bottom, I’m going to spread your legs and spank that pretty pink cunt until you beg me to stop. And then I’m going to spank it harder to teach you a lesson.”

Nettie clenched her legs together, feeling both scared and highly aroused. He’d never punished her
there
before.

Jack sat on the stool and guided her over his lap, where he proceeded to tug her trousers and drawers down from her hips. Holding her bound wrists in one of his hands, he landed his other in a splat across both cheeks. He rubbed her bottom in circles. “And then, if you’re a good girl, I’ll fill you with my cock and let you come.”

“I’ll be good,” she squeaked, as he landed another swat on her bottom. He picked up the speed of the stinging smacks.

Most of the swats were just hard enough to leave a sting without causing pain, but just when she would feel relaxed, he would give her a hard swat on her sit spot, sending a jolt of pain and arousal straight to her sex. She moaned at the pleasure his hand brought and parted her legs, wanting his ministrations to travel to her ache.

He understood the meaning of her movements. “Not yet,” he growled, landing two hard spanks. “Close your legs and take your licking like a good girl.”

Her face flushed and she pressed her inner thighs against each other. His words only served to excite her more and she clenched the muscles of her legs together again and again, trying to stimulate her way to pleasure.

Jack noticed that as well and stopped spanking. “I see this punishment isn’t working on my disobedient girl. Looks like she needs a sterner lesson.”

She held her breath, wondering what he would do. He slowly helped her off his lap and rose with her. With a hand at the back of her neck, he guided her to the bed, where he turned her to face him and pressed her shoulders down until she sat.

“Lie on your back,” he said, his voice all business. “I’m going to show you what happens to greedy girls who try to steal an orgasm.”

She leaned back slowly, her heart fluttering wildly. Her bound wrists behind her back served to prop her lower body up and give him perfect access to her sex when her legs fell apart naturally.

“Greedy girls get punished here,” he said huskily, sliding his finger along her slit. He slapped her pussy, and she jumped. The feeling was intense—pain and pleasure warred for the strongest sensation. She both dreaded and longed for the next swat. He spanked her again lightly, and the impact of his hand against her cream made a distinctly wet slapping sound. The slaps increased in speed, not in force, but the ache built with every slap. She moaned and twisted, desperate for relief from the sweet torture. “Please,” she begged. “Please stop and fill me now.”