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I pulled my fingers out and looked at them.

I knew it.

Slick with her wet cunt and no blood.

“How dare you, you little brat?” I seethed through my teeth, flicking her ass with the riding crop now, watching as little spots of pink appeared every place I marked her up.

“I am going to pull all your seed out with my hands,” she snapped. “I’m not having your baby!”

“Oh yes, you fucking are!” I growled back at her, snapping at her ass harder now, her flesh blooming under my angry hands. “You’re going to be marked and filled byme.”

I wanted to keep spanking her ass but my cock was straining at my breeches, aching for my little brat wife.

I let the crop fall with a clatter to the ground and slapped impatiently at Catherine’s legs.

“Let me in.Fuck, Catherine.”

I began to press my cock into her tight passage, groaning loudly. It was godsdamn exquisite, the best fucking cunt I’d ever had. It was also the mosttroubleI’d ever had getting into one.

Once I felt her wet cunt, I couldn’t stop. With one hand I gripped her hair and with the other I lifted her ass and hips for me to pound savagely into her.

Shit, she felt so unbelievably good. I tried to close my eyes to last longer, but I couldn’t resist looking at her, perfect breasts smashed against the table, her head jerked up, the long auburnwaves ripped out of her updo, my bite marks on her creamy neck, the marks of my crop on her ass.

Fuck. My release was building again on my spine, and I wasn’t going to be able to stop, so I only gripped her tight, hair and ass.

“Never lie to me again,” I growled.

Then I released seed into her, my eyes rolling back in my head as my wife took me whether she wanted to or not.

But she hadn’t learned her lesson yet.

CHAPTER 19

Catherine

Igripped the table as my husband pulled out, and he lifted up my hips as he often did, checking to make sure his seed stayed inside me. I tried to kick back at him, but of course he held my legs too tightly.

How I would love to kick him, claw his face off! But, as always, his strength was overpowering, the hard bands of his muscles effortlessly pinning me exactly where he wanted me.

He held me like that for several moments, my hips tipped up so nothing could roll out. I knew from experience that it would not help me at all to try to escape, but I did anyway, trying to grab the opposite side of the table and crawl away from him.

He only gave the sore skin on my cunt sharp slaps.

“Stop moving.”

When he was finally satisfied his release was going to stay inside me, my hips ached and he let me down on my feet.

“It was foolish to lie to me, Viscountess,” St. Erth bit out at me. “I told you what would happen if you tried to keep your cunt from me.”

The cold, unforgiving look on his face made my blood run cold, and I turned to run but he pounced, flipping me harshly onto his hard shoulder and knocking the wind out of my lungs.

I gasped for breath and pounded ineffectively with my fists on his broad back.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The dungeons,” my husband said.

For a moment I thought he must be making some kind of sick joke. But then I remembered that there was nothing too wicked for my depraved husband, as he stalked angrily out of the library and down the hall. I tried to grab at tables, doorknobs, pulling paintings off the walls to slow him down, but nothing worked. I kicked, but my skirts impeded me, and my husband opened a heavy door and began descending big stone steps.