Claiming His Wife (16 page)

"Good girl," he said, placing one hand
on the small of her back to hold her in place as his other hand
squeezed the fleshy globes of her bottom.  His cock was snugly
caged between her body and his, eagerly rubbing against the front
of his pants.  The thinness of her drawers would provide no
protection, but then that wasn't really the point, was it?  He
drew them down, feeling her squirm as he did so.  "I won't be
as hard on you, sweetheart, since you came to me of your own
accord.  But you do deserve a spanking."

Giving the pale flesh of her ass, one
last caress, Alex raised his hand and let it fall with a
snap.

SMACK!

The little noise that Grace uttered
couldn't rightly be called a whimper or a moan, but it was
something in between. 

SMACK!  SMACK!
 SMACK!!!

Spanking her, the advice he'd received
from all the men whirled around his head.  Hitting her over
and over again in one spot would hurt the most eventually.
 The crease of her bottom and the undersides where the curves
met her thighs would be the most sensitive areas to spank.
 Her thighs would sting her in an entirely different manner.
 Direct hits to her quim should be gentler than those
administered to her bottom.

"You will not feign drunkenness to try
and justify your abominable behavior."

SMACK!  SMACK!

"You will absolutely not
actually
become
 drunk and lewd in public."

SMACK!  SMACK!

Grace was starting to cry, her soft
mewls and whimpers making his cock even harder as her rosy bottom
darkened.  Her legs had begun to move restlessly; not kicking
yet, but soon they would be.

"You will not flirt with other
men."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
SMACK!

She howled, bucking slightly, as he
landed the blows on her sit-spot in a small flurry, as if to
emphasize that particular command.  Over and over he repeated
himself, and every time he returned to his rule about other men,
his hand came down on her most sensitive spots.  

Despite his anger and frustration with
her, he felt completely in control of himself.  It was a cold
kind of anger, one that he'd learned to live with.  However,
he didn't intend to have to live with it for very much longer.
 

He had to admit, roasting Grace's
bottom for her offenses held much greater appeal than he would have
ever thought.  Feeling her soft body squirming on his lap, her
breathy cries filling his ears, her promises to "be good" - well,
he wished he'd done this years ago instead of behaving like an
utter fool.  Especially because she seemed to enjoy
it.

Every so often, in between raining
spanks down on her tender flesh, he would pause and rub his hand
over it instead.  From the way she wriggled and whimpered, he
knew it wasn't entirely soothing.  The heat of her skin told
him that she was very sensitive as he dug his fingers into her
pliable flesh.  A few times his fingers had brushed over the
swollen lips of her pussy, which were pouty and wet with
arousal. 

Still, he didn't think she was getting
any kind of pleasure from the punishment itself.  Humiliation
broke her voice when his fingers probed, and that was when she
tried hardest to squirm away.  Because she was embarrassed by
the wetness coating her nether lips. 

It took Alex's breath away to feel
that hot, wet slickness at his fingertips.  Knowing that it
wasn't an aberration; this was not the first time she'd responded
like this.  He groaned as he slid two fingers into her wet
heat, feeling her pussy tighten around them.  Using his other
hand to squeeze a reddened cheek, he held her tightly on his lap,
enjoying the way she squirmed against him while he stroked her
insides. 

"Alex... oh no...."
 She gasped and writhed as his fingers found that most
sensitive spot inside her body.  Since she wasn't actually
telling him no, just saying it as if she could ward off the
pleasure with her words, he kept going.  Pressing.
 Stroking.  Squeezing her buttocks and sending tingling
pain to mix with her pleasure.

His cock was rock hard and throbbing,
eager to replace his fingers... but he wasn't going to.  Not
unless she asked.  It was almost a trust exercise for them,
and he would keep to his word.

Grace cried out, her body shuddering
as she climaxed.  Her insides clenched around his fingers,
especially when he squeezed her bottom.  Hips bucking, she
rode out her pleasure.

"You don't need other men," Alex
murmured, thrusting his fingers in deep.  "I'll take care of
whatever needs you have, Grace.  I want to."

She moaned in response.

Pulling his fingers from
the clasp of her body, he had her on her back on the bed within
seconds.  Although her expression was slightly dazed, her eyes
flashed with fear and mistrust as she saw him looming over
her.

"I'm not going to take you unless you
ask, Gracie," he said, even as he undid the front of his breeches
and pulled out his cock.

Although he could understand why she
would think so.  Her drawers had been left on the floor and he
was kneeling between her spread, bare legs.  The lips of her
pussy glistened in the candlelight, pink and plump and utterly
tempting.  Her chemise was pushed up, above her gorgeous
breasts, her nipples slowly softening from their ripe little buds.
 

Her lips formed a shocked little 'o'
as he grasped his cock in hand and reared up on his knees, looking
down at her body, all flushed and feminine.  The look of shock
on her face as he fisted himself only encouraged him.  They'd
never done anything like this before.  Apparently she'd never
seen a man rub himself before, because her wide eyes were glued to
the sight.

That shock only heightened as thick,
white fluid spurted and arched in the air, painting her naked
breasts and stomach with his essence as he groaned his release.
 The last spurts fell on the dark curls of her mound and the
parted lips of her pussy as she drew in a shuddering
breath. 

Sighing in repletion, Alex released
himself and reached down to tug off her chemise.  To his
surprise, Grace didn't argue with him as he pulled it over her head
and then used it to wipe his seed from her body.  She just
watched him with hooded, confused eyes, nibbling her lower lip the
entire time.

His cock was already starting to stir
again, but he ignored it.  Settling beside her on the bed, he
wrapped one heavy arm around her body and dragged her into him.
 She whimpered a bit as her hot bottom pressed against his
groin, his semi-hard cock settling into the crack between her
cheeks, but she didn't try to pull away or fight
him. 

It was the first time that she had let
him cuddle her like this, as the light of the candles went out one
by one. 

Tenderness and triumph ran through him
as he stroked her belly and whispered in her ear how beautiful she
was.  How well she'd taken her punishment.  What a good
girl she was. 

His chest clenched as he felt her
relax and then slump into slumber, her body pressed against his and
her head resting on his arm.  

It might not seem like a very large
step, but he knew that it was.  He was winning her over,
slowly but surely.  Surprisingly, spanking seemed to have
something to do with it. 

Edwin, Hugh and Wesley were definitely
onto something.

Chapter 7

The all-too-familiar stirrings of
nausea woke her, stronger than ever before.  Eleanor groaned,
her hand going immediately to her belly.  Normally she could
hold off in the mornings, at least until Edwin had risen and left
the room.  Since she often slept a little later than him
anyway, he'd never known that she was hiding her sick from him.
 

But now she felt as though she was
going to vomit immediately, and he was still in bed with her, his
arm around her head and shoulders, which she had been using for a
pillow.

Just stay calm...
swallow... breathe... oh God...

She lurched off the bed, stumbling,
unable to answer as she heard Edwin call her name, his voice
disoriented and confused as she abruptly left the bed.
 Fortunately, the water basin wasn't too far away and had been
left empty.  Poppy had learned it was usually for the best to
bring a fresh basin every morning, after her mistress had already
used the empty one.  

Bending over, gripping the
sides of the basin, Eleanor heaved, and tears sprang to her eyes.
 Not just from the bitter taste or the stinging in her throat,
but because she'd never wanted Edwin to see her like this.  So
many men lost interest in their wives as soon as they were with
child, considering their duty done, but even if Edwin wasn't like
that, this was disgusting.  Unfeminine.  Messy.
 Smelly.  How would he ever be able to look at her the
same?

So it shocked her when she heard him
sharply calling out the door for Poppy's immediate assistance, and
then felt him approach from behind her.  The hairs on the back
of her neck and arms lifted, making her horribly aware of his
presence. 

Her robe was placed over her
shoulders, and Edwin helped her straighten, pulling her away from
the basin as he coughed a little in reaction.  Eleanor bit her
lip to keep from moaning her humiliation aloud as he wrapped her up
in the robe, helping her slide her arms into the sleeves.  She
couldn't look up at him to see his expression, she was too scared
to.

"Oh my lady," said Poppy, rushing in
with an expression of concern on her face.  "I'm sorry I
wasn't prepared, this is so much earlier than usual."

Out of the corner of her eye, Eleanor
saw Edwin's mouth open, close, and frown.  She winced.
 

"Earlier?" he asked, his tone sharp.
 "This happens often?"

Poppy halted mid-stride, nearly
sloshing some water on the floor.  Her soft brown eyes darted
between the master and the mistress as she realized that the lady
of the house hadn't been quite as forthcoming about her condition
as Poppy had thought.  Not that the servants knew everything
that went on between the Lord and Lady, but none of them had
realized he was completely unaware of why his wife never joined him
first thing in the morning to break her fast. 

"Ah..." she said,
obviously searching for words.  Eleanor just let out a little
groan, which distracted him completely as she swayed slightly.
 Pulling her into his arms, Edwin let her press her face
against his chest while he rubbed her back.  She made a small
sound of contentment; her nausea wasn't gone, but it had lost a lot
of its immediacy.

Sensing that the master
was now distracted, Poppy quickly changed out the basins, taking
the soiled one from the room.  Holding on to Edwin's robe,
Eleanor closed her eyes, wishing that she could stay just like this
forever.  Because she knew that questions were coming that she
didn't want to answer - wasn't sure how to answer.
 

She was right.

"Nell, why didn't you tell me you were
having problems in the mornings?"  Edwin's voice was soft, not
stern, and filled with concern, but the question still made her
feel stubbornly tetchy.  Mostly because she was being forced
into telling him about her condition, and it definitely wasn't on
her terms.

"Why do you care?" she muttered, just
barely loud enough for him to hear.  She almost winced at how
waspish she sounded.

"Nell."  This time he said her
name a little more sharply, a warning for her to behave and to
answer.  Instead, she just tried to burrow even more closely
into his chest and he sighed, somewhat exasperated.  His hands
caressed her gently, from shoulders to waist, and she melted
against him as his voice lowered to a murmur.  "You're going
to be the death of me, woman.  If I'd known how bad the
mornings were for you, I would have been here to take care of
you."

Suddenly Eleanor felt as though they
were standing on a precipice together, one that they'd been moving
towards for a long time.  One that could make or break her
heart.  

Tilting her head back, her expression
completely serious, she looked up at her husband.
 "Why?"

******

The searching, almost desperate look
in Eleanor's big blue eyes made Edwin hesitate.  There had
been quite a few times, since their wedding, that he'd felt Eleanor
wanted something from him.  He just didn't know what and she
never seemed inclined to tell him, or even proffer a hint.
 This was another such moment.

Cupping her face in his hand, he
couldn't help but worry that his answer would - again - be found
lacking.  Her soft skin almost looked translucent, she was so
pale after her morning sickness.  Ever since he'd realized her
condition, he'd also seen her becoming more delicate.  Never
frail, but she seemed more vulnerable, less robust.  It made
him feel even more protective of her than usual, and he'd done his
best to ensure that she didn't over exert herself, even as she'd
insisted on carrying on almost as normal.

He'd been waiting for days for her to
reveal her condition.  Part of him had even started to wonder
if she hadn't realized why she was so fatigued, but if she didn't
know by now that she was carrying his child, then he would eat his
hat.  It was for the wife to announce when she was carrying,
but who knew what went on in the feminine mind.  He had no
idea why Eleanor hadn't told him yet, but as long as she did
nothing to endanger herself or the child then he was content to
wait.