Read Online The Great Scottish Devil by Starla Kaye - Free Book Online
Authors: Starla Kaye
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amazement, he grabbed her arm and dragged her with him to the back of the furthest paddocks. He shoved her to the wall. “Ye shouldna have pushed me, lass. I’m going to give ye a sound leathering. And then ye will go to yer bedchamber and stay there til the morrow.”
Her heart raced at his grim words. He’d spanked her before, but this would be far different. As her guardian—which apparently he was now, he had the right to discipline her as he saw fit. He could even choose to lock her in one of the four towers the rest of her life if he chose to do so. He was a proud and feared warrior, not a man to rebel against. She’d acted foolishly, spoken foolishly. And now she would pay dearly for her actions.
She turned to him ready to protest, attempt to reason with him. But she found him standing stiffly, his jaw clenched in resolve. Yet his eyes revealed a man who’d been forced to deal with more than he could at the moment. She remembered the fear for her that had shuddered through him as he’d held her. She knew the nearly uncontrollable arousal he seemed to have whenever they were too close to one another. She knew how much he wanted her and fiercely fought against it. And, angry or not with him, she still wanted him, although she couldn’t have him. Maybe accepting this punishment would give some kind of ease to both of them. He needed to relieve some of the strain she’d brought into his life. She needed to stop yearning for him. Surely enduring this chastisement and the suffering after would keep her from making a fool of herself over him again.
“All right, my lord. I will take your punishment.” The words were hard to say, turning toward the wall even harder.
“Lower your braies.”
“My lord?” He’d bared her bottom before, but this was so different, so difficult to do. “Can you not do it with them up?”
She watched him remove his thick black belt and trembled. His expression softened a bit. “Braies to yer ankles, Annabel. Then face the wall, arms raised.” His tone was a mixture of command and an odd kindness.
Drawing in a nervous breath, she turned away and then pushed her braies down. They were well away from anyone who might happen by. Yet she felt so vulnerable standing here half-dressed, her bare bottom exposed to a man ready to welt it.
He stepped next to her and offered her the leather sheath for his small boot knife. “Put it between yer lips. ‘Twill keep ye from crying out too loudly.”
She glanced back as he raised the belt. “Please, not too harshly.”
Their gazes met and he nodded. “Enough that ye will think twice aboot disobeying me agin.”
“Like going to my bedchamber to give ye some peace?” She was about to pay a high price for rebelling.
“Aye. I am leathering ye, too, fer constantly threatening to leave. Ye ken the reasons ‘tis unsafe to go off by yerself. Yet ye threaten to do so every time ye are angry with me.”
His expression hardened again. “Turn away, lass. Ye willna want to see the lashes falling.”
He was right about that. She put the leather sheath between her teeth and lowered her head between her outstretched arms. Holding her breath, she waited for the first fall of the thick belt. It was always the worst lick.
The wait was far too short. He sent the belt down hard and a line of white hot pain seared across both buttocks as if he’d branded her. She yelped, though it came out muffled because of the sheath in her mouth.
He gave her five more lashes. She knew he’d held back his strength, but still each stripe stung mightily. With each one she danced up on her toes. With each one she grimaced and bit down on the sheath of leather.
“Six more. I want ye to ken the consequences of going against me verra well.”
Annabel considered demanding that he stop, but she heard the whoosh of the next lash coming. She squeezed her eyes closed and prepared for it. He striped her steadily, one after the other with no rest in between. The pain
Her heart raced at his grim words. He’d spanked her before, but this would be far different. As her guardian—which apparently he was now, he had the right to discipline her as he saw fit. He could even choose to lock her in one of the four towers the rest of her life if he chose to do so. He was a proud and feared warrior, not a man to rebel against. She’d acted foolishly, spoken foolishly. And now she would pay dearly for her actions.
She turned to him ready to protest, attempt to reason with him. But she found him standing stiffly, his jaw clenched in resolve. Yet his eyes revealed a man who’d been forced to deal with more than he could at the moment. She remembered the fear for her that had shuddered through him as he’d held her. She knew the nearly uncontrollable arousal he seemed to have whenever they were too close to one another. She knew how much he wanted her and fiercely fought against it. And, angry or not with him, she still wanted him, although she couldn’t have him. Maybe accepting this punishment would give some kind of ease to both of them. He needed to relieve some of the strain she’d brought into his life. She needed to stop yearning for him. Surely enduring this chastisement and the suffering after would keep her from making a fool of herself over him again.
“All right, my lord. I will take your punishment.” The words were hard to say, turning toward the wall even harder.
“Lower your braies.”
“My lord?” He’d bared her bottom before, but this was so different, so difficult to do. “Can you not do it with them up?”
She watched him remove his thick black belt and trembled. His expression softened a bit. “Braies to yer ankles, Annabel. Then face the wall, arms raised.” His tone was a mixture of command and an odd kindness.
Drawing in a nervous breath, she turned away and then pushed her braies down. They were well away from anyone who might happen by. Yet she felt so vulnerable standing here half-dressed, her bare bottom exposed to a man ready to welt it.
He stepped next to her and offered her the leather sheath for his small boot knife. “Put it between yer lips. ‘Twill keep ye from crying out too loudly.”
She glanced back as he raised the belt. “Please, not too harshly.”
Their gazes met and he nodded. “Enough that ye will think twice aboot disobeying me agin.”
“Like going to my bedchamber to give ye some peace?” She was about to pay a high price for rebelling.
“Aye. I am leathering ye, too, fer constantly threatening to leave. Ye ken the reasons ‘tis unsafe to go off by yerself. Yet ye threaten to do so every time ye are angry with me.”
His expression hardened again. “Turn away, lass. Ye willna want to see the lashes falling.”
He was right about that. She put the leather sheath between her teeth and lowered her head between her outstretched arms. Holding her breath, she waited for the first fall of the thick belt. It was always the worst lick.
The wait was far too short. He sent the belt down hard and a line of white hot pain seared across both buttocks as if he’d branded her. She yelped, though it came out muffled because of the sheath in her mouth.
He gave her five more lashes. She knew he’d held back his strength, but still each stripe stung mightily. With each one she danced up on her toes. With each one she grimaced and bit down on the sheath of leather.
“Six more. I want ye to ken the consequences of going against me verra well.”
Annabel considered demanding that he stop, but she heard the whoosh of the next lash coming. She squeezed her eyes closed and prepared for it. He striped her steadily, one after the other with no rest in between. The pain
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