Page 23 of Claimed by the Bastard Prince

She cleared her throat and peered up at him from under her long lashes. “You-you kept me waiting. I didn’t think it was a big deal to get things started without you.” Byget things started, she was referring to his discovering her stroking her own pussy in bed and bringing herself to orgasm. He’d walked in just as she’d cried out her pleasure.

“You vowed to obey me, my little sunflower, did you not? I specifically told you to wait for me, yet you deliberately disobeyed me.” He dragged the tip of the crop across her breast. “Ismallian wives answer to their husbands, as you well know.”

Her breath left her in a shudder. “I-I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry.”

“What were you thinking about while you touched what belongs to your husband?” He moved the crop to her other breast and smacked it against her nipple, just hard enough to sting.

Shame coursed through her. She truly hadn’t meant to stroke herself to orgasm. She’d only meant to take the edge off her arousal and make herself soaking wet in preparation for Akeen’s arrival after he finished his meeting with the Royal Guard. But then she’d started to imagine what would happen once her husband arrived and she’d gotten carried away by her lustful thoughts.

“Answer the question.” He flicked her nipple again.

“I-I was thinking about you, sir. About how you promised to take me over and over again tonight.” Even as she remained kneeling before him, shamed for her disobedience, warm pulses assailed her center and she felt her inner thighs becoming slick with her increasing arousal. Her face heated and nerves clenched in her tummy.

In all the months she’d been married to Akeen, he had never hurt her. Never yelled at her. Never gave her any reason to fear him. But he had looked almost enraged when she discovered him standing in the doorway only seconds after she’d moaned her release. He’d scolded her, ordered her to kneel on the floor, and retrieved the frightening looking crop from somewhere in his closet.

“Open your thighs, my little sunflower, and show me your wet, pink folds.”

The use of his endearing nickname for her helped her relax somewhat. She shifted her position, spreading her thighs wide to her displeased husband’s gaze. A glance at her center showed her pussy was glistening with her arousal, as were her inner thighs.

“Tell me, wife, what will you do the next time I order you to go to our bedroom, strip off your clothes, andwaitfor me to arrive?” He trailed the crop over her slick folds in an intimidating manner.

“I’ll wait for you,” she answered quickly. “I won’t, um,get things startedwithout you again.” She’d known he wouldn’t be happy if he discovered she pleasured herself without his permission—a strange quirk of Ismallian men, they liked to be in charge of their wives’ pleasure—yet she’d done it anyway. Perhaps she’d wanted to see how he would react if she disobeyed him. He’d given her a warning swat or two before when she’d gotten especially mouthy to him—which was usually a prelude to his ravishing her thoroughly—but she’d never disobeyed him in such a serious matter before.

She met his gaze and her stomach flipped at the sternness filling his dark eyes.

“You’ll receive five smacks of the crop, young lady. Keep your legs spread and do not move, or else we’ll start over at one.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, her trepidation growing, even as more heat pulsed between her legs.

He slapped the inside of her right thigh with the crop, then delivered a smack to her other thigh a moment later. She gasped at the sting and took deep breaths, willing herself to remain spread to his liking. He delivered two more blows to her thighs, then centered the tip of the crop over her pussy, right atop her throbbing clit.

She gave him a pleading look, though she didn’t dare close her legs. She didn’t wish to start over at one.

“I know my culture is a bit different from yours,” he said, still holding the crop over her clit. “But I’m proud of you, Cora, for embracing a traditional Ismallian marriage with me. I fell in love with you for your spirit and your independence, and perhaps even your smart mouth. You challenged me and I liked it. But you have crossed a line this evening, and I must punish you for it.”

He was one of the most powerful men in his country. Most men feared him. He still worked in the dungeons on occasion, though he refused to divulge any of the goings-on in the depths of the palace, claiming he didn’t wish to frighten her. Some nights he came to their quarters with bruised knuckles and haunted eyes, and she knew he’d had to torture someone. But despite Akeen’s fearsome reputation, she trusted him to discipline her fairly. The smacks of the crop to her thighs hadn’t been unbearable. Even if the final blow stung badly, she would survive it. And then they would make love.

He wanted her now. She could see it in his eyes. Beneath his stern visage, a primal need burned within him.

“Five,” he said as he lifted the crop and struck her clit.

She gasped but found herself lurching forward to meet the lash, seeking the stinging impact on her private parts. Wanting it. Craving it. She almost begged him to strike her clit again, the mix of pain and pleasure had felt so fucking good.

“Naughty girl,” he said. “You aren’t supposed to be enjoying this.” The glimmer of lust in his stare revealed he wasn’t truly upset by her gratification.

“Maybe next time you should hit me harder,” she said, her sauciness returning as a slight smile tugged at her lips.

“I will,” he said in a deep voice. “Perhaps I’ve been too gentle with you, Cora. Perhaps you need a longer, harsher punishment the next time you prove disobedient.” His nostrils suddenly flared and she knew he could smell her mounting arousal.

Warmth flooded her pussy and she prayed he still planned to claim her tonight—multiple times, as promised. He drew her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, embracing her with a fierceness that took her breath away. It was common for Ismallian men to punish their errant wives. She’d known this when she married Akeen and he’d bluntly stated he wouldn’t hesitate to warm her bottom if she was naughty, though he’d sworn to only administer her discipline from a place of love. All things considered, he’d been rather gentle with her and now he was comforting her. Her heart warmed and she snuggled her head against his chest.

He stroked a hand through her long locks. “I love you, my little sunflower.”

She smiled. “And I love you, my big handsome prince.”

After holding her for a while, he withdrew slightly and peered down at her as a feral gleam entered his gaze. “Now, my sweet wife, I want you to go bend over the bed. Be a good girl and spread your legs nice and wide for your husband.” He lowered his head, placing his warm lips to her ear. “I plan to fuck you long and hard, over and over andoveragain. Until you’ve gone hoarse from screaming my name and your pussy is so sore you can’t crawl out of bed.”

She couldn’t obey quickly enough.

~The End~