Lord Belden's Baggage

She opened her mouth to protest but closed it again, because she wasn't certain yet why he was going to spank her. And if it wasn't what she thought it was, then she didn't want to give him any more ammunition to use against her. Alisa had a feeling that he was going to find plenty enough reasons to redden her behind without her helping him, and she certainly didn't want to establish any bad habits like that which were likely to get her into even more trouble. Bram took her hand and led her to the edge of the bed. She expected him to tell her what to do, but he showed her, instead, taking entirely too much pleasure in touching her soft skin as he bent her over, placing her palms on the mattress, well apart, squatting down to do the same thing to her feet, arranging them much further apart than she had, then standing back to peruse her as her entire body blushed and flushed hot. He readjusted her a bit here and there, then, apparently was satisfied.

Alisa most definitely was not. She certainly hadn't liked lying over his lap-it was much too intimate-but at least, she'd been clothed-mostly-and not horribly exposed as she was now! Whether from nerves or actual cold-and she subscribed to the first cause she began to tremble, gooseflesh breaking out everywhere that it could, and, to her horror, tightening nipples that were already disgracefully peaked.

"Are you cold, Alisa? Let me light the fire."

And then he left her there for however long it took-it seemed like forever-to get the fire going, essentially on display for him and to him. She could feel his eyes on her occasionally, which kept her trembling and fearful. When he returned, he murmured, "It'll warm up in here quickly, I promise, and you're going to get a lot warmer in one particular area very quickly, I can guarantee."

After trailing his hand down the line of a backbone that was highly visible beneath her skin, he asked, "Do you know why you're in this position, Alisa?"

She only debated a split second before replying, "N-no."

"When I took your underthings down, I saw you reach towards them to keep them up, when I told you to keep your hands at your sides, didn't I?" "Yes, my lord."

"I think 'sir' will do in this situation, Alisa."

"Yes, sir."

He sighed heavily, as if he was already regretting what he had to say to her. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I wasn't trying to be funny when I told you that I intended not to spare the rod with you. I believe that a man's wife is meant to submit to him and that it is his duty to correct her whenever he feels she's misbehaved in any way."

Bram paused, and Alisa filled in, just in case he wanted her to, "Yes, sir."

"Although that is likely not the only time you might find yourself in this position, because, sometimes, I will punish you simply because I enjoy doing so."

The plaintive whimper leaked out from behind lips that were supposed to be clamped tightly together.

He paused again, and she said, through obvious tears, "Yes, sir."

"I'm afraid that I'm always going to be strict with you, in hopes that I will not have to repeat a lesson after having taught you once already. And you would do well to learn it, because the second occurrence of the same infraction will double your punishment. More nights than not, you are likely to find yourself falling asleep on your stomach because it won't be pleasant for you to lie on your bum."

"Yes, sir," she sobbed outright.

"I suggest that you grab a couple of fistfuls of the duvet, because you definitely do not want to move your hands or your feet while you're being punished, little girl, now or ever, especially when that is the reason you're here in the first place." Her "yes, sir" was almost indistinguishable as she blubbered it.

Bram was having to maintain an incredible hold on himself, especially when he turned away from the bed and looped his left arm around her waist to immobilize her more forcibly, which left him staring down at that perfect derrière of hers, which he was just about to thoroughly enjoy blistering.

"Unlike the library at the manor, you may make as much noise as you wish as there's just the two of us here this evening. There isn't even a hall boy to hear you, although, as you're now my wife and doubtless know, I need not worry that anyone will say a word against me or come to your rescue any longer."

At that bleak statement, she whispered an acknowledgement, almost wishing he'd begin, so that it would then end. His talking about it like this was only making her dread it just that much more. But when it started, she knew she should have wished for something-anything else.

He worked in a terrible, relentless rhythm that was so carefully metered as to be assisted by a metronome-first, her left cheek, then, her right, and back again. The first few swats weren't too bad, but it was the unfailingly crisp, hard delivery of one searing swat after the other that got to her very quickly. His hand marched up and down a relatively small amount of space on either side, and he might as well have given her all of those spanks in the same two spots.

Alisa never let go of the duvet, for which she was eternally grateful, nor did she move her feet closer together. That was the more likely of the two to happen, surprisingly, because he seemed to increase the heft behind each smack occasionally, which had her attempting to shift her butt out from under his palm. But his big, immovable presence next to her, along with his arm around her waist, kept her right where he wanted her to be as the force of the swats occasionally pushed her up onto her tiptoes.

Alisa remained silent as long as she could-she wasn't sure why, but as a matter of pride, she supposed. But she lost that battle in a humiliatingly short amount of time when, at first, squeaks eked out, then yelps, then cries that ran into each other for the rest of the spanking, only indistinguishable by the rise in volume when his palm cracked against her yet again.

At one point, she began to lift her heels and shake her head in vain protest, mouth constantly open, tears dampening the coverlet beneath her head as she fought valiantly to keep from begging him for mercy.

Just when she was about to lose that fight, he stopped, and she was entirely unprepared for what happened next.

He lifted her into his arms and sat down on the edge of the bed at the same time, reversing their positions, somewhat, and cradling her in his arms, holding her tightly to him. No part of him touched her throbbing, seared flesh anywhere. She was so small that he could have held her in one arm if he had wanted to, and sometimes he did, brushing the damp hair out of her eyes and the tears away with them.

Bram did his best to comfort her with soft words that didn't really mean anything but that he sincerely hoped soothed her, because he had given her a very severe spanking that was well beyond what she'd experienced from him in the library. He had firmly sublimated the desire, but he had ached to comfort her then, but really had no way of doing so. Now, he patted her arms, rubbed her back and kept her held tightly against him as he watched her try to come to grips with what she'd been through.

Alisa's mind raced nearly all the time; it always had. She had a bit of a nervous disposition and could be antsy if she didn't have something to do, even if that was just reading a good book.

But at that moment, as well as during the spanking, she hadn't thought about anything other than when and where his hand was going to fall next. Nothing in the world had mattered to her more than that. And now, afterwards, her mind was completely quiet. She couldn't think of anything in particular, nor did she care to.

And, although the punishment was horrible, and she never wanted to be spanked again, ever, being held like this by him was very nice, she had to admit. He was big and warm and despite his size and the fact that he was the cause of all of her misery-safe, somehow. His voice was low and a bit rumbly and very pleasant to her ears, especially the one that was pressed to his chest.

Eventually, he took the clean handkerchief out of his pocket and used it to dry her tears when it didn't seem to him that she was crying any more, then gave it to her to use to blow her nose.

When he made a move as if he was going to let her go, she couldn't help herself. She clung to him, an arm shooting up to curl around his neck, the other latching onto his waistcoat as best it could.

The thought flitted through Alisa's mind that those gestures probably weren't a lot different from wanting to beg him to stop, but she couldn't be bothered to think about that at the moment. He was there, and he made her-paradoxically- feel safe, and she wasn't at all ready to give that-or him-up at the moment.

"That's all right," he whispered against her damp temple. "I won't let you go. I was just going to move us up to the top of the bed, where I can lean back against the pillows and hold you even longer." Which was exactly what he did. He hugged her for so long that, all of a sudden, Alisa tried to pull away from him, although she didn't get very far, because, when she did, it came to her-for the first time since before the spanking-that she was naked. So, she ended up pressing herself back against him, even though her mind was not as clear as it had been, and worry and tension were seeping back in. "Where are you going, little one?"

She couldn't possibly meet his eyes when she was nude in his arms like this.

Bram watched her bite her lip and play with the button of his waistcoat. "I" Her voice was understandably hoarse. "I was just thinking that your arms must be getting tired. You've been holding me for a long time." "That's not something you ever need to worry about, honey. You barely weigh a thing, and I could hold you forever and never notice it."

She blushed prettily at that.

"But I should move."

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"No."

"Do you need to visit the water closet?"

Alisa took offense at that, swatting ineffectually at his arm. "Bram! I do not!" Only after she'd already done it did she remember to worry that he might not appreciate her hitting him, even if it was only pretend.

He chuckled, although he didn't like her sudden stricken look. "I like hearing my name on your lips. I do believe that was the first time, in fact. I'll have to ask you about the privy more often!"

That actually made her laugh, transforming what had been a tremulous expression into one of sheer amusement and making her already beautiful face even more so.

It also made his chest ache peculiarly.

Her hand lay curled against him, and he caught it with his. "Well, one of us is dressed for the occasion, and one of us distinctly isn't," he commented casually.

"But you were the one who undressed me!"

"I know, but I wasn't referring to you."

That obviously confused her, and he liked watching her try to work it out. "For what we are about to do, it is advisable for us both to be naked."

Those stark green eyes went wide. "Really?"

Bram couldn't help but grin at her utter disbelief. "Yes. I suppose, since you're my wife, that I should be gentlemanly and only take you at night, in the dark, under the covers, having removed or rearranged only the necessary clothing, but I am unwilling to live the rest of my life like that."

"I don't understand what you're saying at all." Then she peeped up at him from beneath long black lashes and asked softly, "Are you making fun of me, Lord Belden?"

A small smile spread over his face as he bent down and gave her a soft kiss. "I am back to 'Lord Belden' again, so soon?" he teased. "And, no, I am not making fun of you. I'm just referring to something at the moment you know nothing about but that, within the next hour or so, you will."

That was a very mysterious thing for him to say.

"It can be arranged that you remain the only one of us who is naked, if you would prefer, wife," he offered, but it sounded very much more like a threat, although she wasn't sure why.

She did feel very vulnerable being like this with him. "No...I...no, please."

He let her slide down him, keeping her on her tummy and his arms loosely around her waist. "Then why don't you start with my vest?"

Her little fingers worked the buttons adeptly, and she even helped him off with it, then she set to work on his shirt, occasionally looking up at him for reassurance, which he eagerly gave her. But once it was unbuttoned, she looked unsure of herself, her eyes avoiding his, as if she couldn't imagine actually relieving him of it.

"Do you want me to take it off myself, little girl?" he prompted, watching her avidly. Her responses were so pure and genuine that they were positively intoxicating.

Alisa nodded, although she did try to help him some, but as his chest and broad, muscular shoulders were revealed, she seemed to forget that she was doing that altogether and ended up just staring at him in rapt wonder.

Bram schooled his face to be serious so she wouldn't think he was laughing at her. She resembled nothing so much as a country girl in the city for the first time-not sure where to look first.

He reached out and crooked a finger beneath her chin, bringing her eyes to his and making her blush becomingly.

"Oh, dear-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare at you."

"Yes, you did," he teased. "And I don't mind you looking at me at all."

She wiggled a bit. "I don't know if I can say the same thing to you." She lowered her eyes and fidgeted a little, but still, bravely, said what she was thinking, "When you look at me, I feel all strange, inside and out." While he was trying to digest that little confession, her eyes swept over him as she revealed something equally as telling. "When when you're holding me, it's easy to forget how big you really are."

He wanted to explore that further, but not at the moment. "Did my mother come to you last night, love?"

"Yes."

"And what did the two of you talk about, hmm?"

Alisa, who was curled up atop the part of him that was yearning for her the most, became more animated at that question than he thought she would, moving around on him until he had to admonish, "Sit still, please, little one." She froze. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry."

He smiled down at her. "No, you didn't. I don't think you could if you tried, honey. Now, tell me what you two chatted about."

"Honestly, nothing. I thought she had something really important to say to me, and I think she tried to say it once or twice. But in the end, she just said that, if I gave you the chance, you could be very nice and that she loved me and hoped that I'll let myself try to be happy with you. Then she left."

Bram nodded. "That sounds like my mother. She very much wants us both to be happy-but you, mostly."

Alisa demurred. "Hardly. You're her son."

Bram tilted his head to the side. "Remember what I told you about wanting a daughter? You are the embodiment of her dreams, and she told me that I had damned well better do everything I could to make you happy." "She didn't!"

He nodded. "She most certainly did! And in exactly that language, too!" He didn't look very offended, but rather, amused.

She just sat there, blushing.

Well, that told him that she probably had absolutely no idea what was going to happen between them. Not that he minded, but he had wanted to gauge what she might know, which appeared to be nothing. "Have you ever seen a naked man before?"

"Oh, no!" she breathed, as if it was the deadliest of possible sins. "Of course not!"

He thought she might be surprised by what some of her friends probably got up to in the darkened recesses of the inevitable empty rooms that were available in all of those mansions where all of those balls she'd attended were held, but he decided not to mention that.

Bram lifted her off him and proceeded to divest himself of the rest of his clothing, lifting her back onto him when he was through, although it was going to test his mettle severely to have her sitting where she was.

But Alisa had hidden her head in her hands when she'd seen what he was doing and continued to do so, even when she was sitting atop him again.

He tugged them away from her face, scolding mildly, "Hands," then putting her palms on his stomach, near his chest, and noting that they were no longer frozen, which he hoped meant that she was at least a little less nervous than she had been.

Her hands remained right where he'd put them, though, but her eyes were closed.

"Alisa, open your eyes."

She huffed out a small sigh, opening first one, then the other, seeing that not much had changed, and beginning to move her hands on him. "You're hairy."

"I am not as little as some men are, not as much as others."

"All men have hair like this?"

He chuckled lightly. "I haven't seen a lot of other men's chests, but, yes, I believe so."

"It's softer than it looks, but I bet it's not as soft as the hair on your head." She gazed up at the locks almost longingly.

"You can touch me there, too. You can touch me anytime or anywhere you want. I like to be touched, and you're my wife, so I will especially like to be touched by you."

Still, despite his assurances, she bit her lip tentatively as her fingers delved into the hair on his head, massaging his scalp lightly, and he groaned, which made her snatch them back. He thought quickly, then said, in a very bad imitation, "Purrrrrrrrr. Purrrrrrrrr."

She dissolved into giggles at that, and he decided he really liked making her laugh. "There is no way that you're a domestic cat, Lord Belden. I'm sorry. You're much too big. Do lions purr?"

He scrunched up his face comically as he thought. "I'm not sure."

"Well, they do roar, and so do you."

Bram gave her a somewhat insulted look, then said, "Fine, I'm a lion who roars and purrs." Then he brought her fingers back up to his head and plopped them down onto it, "purring" loudly as she did so.

As she slowly became more familiar with him, he did so with her, too, and having him there to draw comparisons and touch, too, seemed to make it less of a trepid experience than it might have been, especially considering his size and the unfamiliarity of what they were doing-especially what he was doing to her.

"Your nipples are a lot smaller than mine," she observed.

"As are my breasts," he said, cupping one of those generous curves. "Because yours are meant to nourish our children, and mine are not."

Her head jerked up at that, eyes flying to his as if that was something she'd never considered before. "Oh," then the word dissolved into an "ooooooohhhhhhhh" when he brushed the sides of his thumbs over those berried peaks.

He was just about reaching the end of his patience, though, and, in one graceful move, he laid her beside him on the bed as he rose up on his elbow. "That isn't the biggest difference between us, though," he said, bringing her small hand to a large cock that had been weeping for her since even before they were married.

"Oh, my God, it's beautiful!" she said, running her hand up and down it.

Leave it to Alisa not to react in the way he had expected.

"It looks like marble-does it hurt you?"

"No, it aches, because it because I want you, but it's a good ache. I want to fit us together and make the both of us feel very good."

With that, he rolled slowly, covering her completely and nudging her legs apart.

Bram felt her pushing against him lightly and looking a little panicked, and he did his best to calm her. "Shhhhh, Alisa."

"But-should we be doing this? Is it right?" she asked.

He kissed her passionately, then answered, "It is exactly right, I promise you."

As he used his own body to hold her legs open, Bram's large hand covered her mons at the same time he brought his mouth to her nipple, and Alisa cried out, trying to arch her breast into and her lower body away from him at the same time. She couldn't decide whether she should yield to the sensations he was creating within her or rail against them. Surely, he shouldn't be touching her there! It was positively shameful, as was how he was making her feel in doing so! And his mouth definitely shouldn't be where it was-hadn't he just said that her breasts were for feeding their children?

But the way his lips were tugging at her nipple-the delicious suction of their softness as the harder tip of his tongue flicked over the barest end made the hands that had been pressing-futilely-against his chest relax-if tentatively-against it instead.

His hand, though, was in a scandalous place on her person where no one should ever touch her! And yet, her body didn't seem to agree with her about that, either, as his insistent fingers parted her nether lips, marauding gently between them as his mouth came up to cover hers and his suddenly, generously dampened fingertips glided over what seemed like a well-hidden exposed nerve.

That was plain wrong. It had to be! It felt entirely too good not to be.

Alisa began to writhe beneath him, trying to twist out from under him or, at least, push him away from her. But almost as soon as she began to actively protest what he was doing to her, he collected her wrists in one hand and brought them above her head as he continued what he'd just started.

She couldn't seem to stop herself from stiffening, bucking and writhing while being held perfectly in place, her efforts all for naught.

"Please please don't-please stop-no!" she sobbed.

Bram was practically beside himself, desperate to claim her as his own, but he forced himself to concentrate on her, first, leaving off exploring those pretty breasts of hers, or even kissing her, in favor of trying to both soothe and excite her at the same time.

He made certain that his fingers were liberally coated in the wetness that he had been ecstatic to find, then brought them back up to where they had been, feeling her literally jerk beneath him as he drew them slowly over her clit. Just watching her respond to him was going to be the death of him, but he couldn't deny himself that heady pleasure.

"Stop that! Please! I-this isn't right-no-Bram-stop!"

She was so overwrought, though, her head thrashing back and forth in frustration, that he decided that soothing might not be the best solution at the moment.

"Alisa, did you mean your vows when you said them to me today?" he asked sternly.

That question brought her out of her frenzy a bit. "Y- yes," she sniffled.

"And one of those was to obey me, wasn't it?"

Her little whimper literally made his cock twitch. "No-please-Bram."

He quickly removed the hand that had been pleasuring her and slipped it beneath her bottom, instead, squeezed a still hot cheek cruelly. "Do I need to spank you until you answer me again?"

Through a fresh round of sobs, she admitted, "Yes, I-I vowed I w-would obey you."

"So, obey me and stop fighting me. It is a woman's place to submit to her husband, in this, most particularly. Your body is mine, to do with as I please, and it pleases me to touch it."

"But th-there?" she whispered pitifully, hopefully, as if him considering where his hand was on her person would get him to realize how terribly sinful he was being and withdraw.

But that was the last thing he was going to do. "Anywhere I like, for as long as I like, wife."

She sobbed a bit more, then, as if it was wrenched painfully out of her, she whispered, "Yes, sir."

He might have praised her then, but instead, he began to stroke his fingers over that utterly sensitive spot, feeling her body-which she held stiff, at first, as if in protest at what he was doing-begin to relax against her will, then to shudder helplessly beneath him. Those small hands struggled to get loose from his grasp and reach out to push him away in turn, as if she didn't know what to do about what he was doing.

Her feelings were incredibly overwhelming, especially held down as she was by him. They made her want to touch him or at least grab onto him for dear life, but even as she tried to reclaim the use of her hands, she knew he wouldn't allow her that freedom.

Bram watched her avidly, trying to judge where she was, keeping himself ready, his own leaking juices mixing with hers as he pressed himself against her entrance, waiting for just the right moment.

When she was barely getting any breath in because she was panting too hard, her movements frenzied and wild, when she was begging him to stop and then all of a sudden-her entire body went rigid beneath him and she let loose with a scream, he plunged into her quickly.

She was so astounded and bewildered by the towering bliss she'd been brought to, by the way her body seemed no longer to be in her own-under her control, but rather under his, instead that Alisa didn't notice the small amount of discomfort she felt when he took her maidenhead. Her entire body thrummed as the blood bubbled through her veins and she clenched around his unexpected invasion, and then, suddenly, she looked up at him in wonder. "You you're inside me!" she breathed..

"I am, indeed, little dove," he whispered hoarsely.

Alisa opened her mouth to say more, but then he began to move, the finger that had been dormant for a minute or two bringing her back to life again. Bram was careful of what was undoubtedly her added sensitivity, but he wondered if he could bring her to climax a second time and very much hoped so, preferably before he reached his own, although he wasn't sure whether or not that was possible for her. If not, he would be quite content with what she'd already given him, as so many women seemed incapable of enjoying the marital bed.

But she proved him wrong, although she begged him not to-in a manner that almost convinced him to grant her mercy, but not quite as he made her come again, anyway, almost just as violently as she had before, following her with the loud roar she'd already accused him of being able to make.

As soon as he collapsed onto her, she began to tug at the hand that was still holding her arms stretched out above her head.

Bram-who was left barely conscious by the experience released them, and then she started to push at his shoulders until he rolled off her, onto his side. She was out of the bed like a shot, not really sure, once she was free, where she should go or what she should do, feeling more helpless and alone than she had in her life, so Alisa merely stood in the middle of the room and sobbed.

All he wanted to do was to go to sleep, but he couldn't and wouldn't-do so while she was crying like that. He levered himself up onto his elbow with the greatest of efforts, saying, "Come back to bed, little one."

But he didn't think she even heard him through her weeping, and he didn't want to yell at her, so he forced himself to get out of bed and go to her.

Alisa put her hand out as she cried, though, as if that was going to stop him from getting near her.

He took it and kissed the damp palm while he watched her thin shoulders shake, and a lump formed in his throat while a painful pressure developed in his chest along with a slightly sick feeling in his stomach.

He'd certainly seen women cry before usually the ones who had thought that he might propose to them or the few he'd spanked. But the only other woman whose tears had ever made him feel like that were his mother's, whom he loved unabashedly. Even Alisa's-when he'd spanked her-hadn't made him feel like this. It was horrible to endure, and he'd do nearly anything to make her feel better.

Bram caught her in the circle of his arms before she knew what was happening and couldn't now escape, but she then just ignored him and continued to cry, as if someone had grievously injured her. But he knew that she had actually just achieved a level of pleasure that most married women would never even know existed, much less actually experience for themselves. But then again, she didn't know that.

He remembered his mother's words to him about it not costing him anything to try to make her happy and to try to put himself in her shoes. Something he thought was amazing and wonderful and fantastic had happened to her, but from her eyes, it might have seemed frightening and violent to have something even something that pleasant-rip through her. He'd held her down, not only with his own body and size, but actively restraining her hands, making her feel just that much more helpless.

Bram intended to be a very strict husband. He wasn't going to let her get away with much of anything-partly because he thought that would be good for her and was what she needed, but partly because he enjoyed spanking her. But he was finding that he very much enjoyed the other side of the equation, too-bringing her the kind of pleasure that he knew was a rarity and something to be treasured. And although he was going to do both of those things to her whether she wanted him to or not, he also wanted her to feel basically safe enough with him to not withdraw again, to be spirited-within the limits he set for her. And he knew he wanted to hear-and see her laugh again. It seemed to him that a little bit of affection, again, as his mother had said, might go a long way. He wanted her to respect him and his authority over her, but he didn't want her to dread being in his presence. He didn't think he could stand a lifetime of his wife hating him.

So, all he did, at first, was simply hold her. He didn't demand anything of her except that, and, eventually, she began to unfurl against him, nearly attempting to climb him to get into his arms. Bram took the hint and picked her up, cradling her against him as he had before and carrying her back to bed, settling her into bed with him. He noticed that she was shivering, even though the fire was warm, so he curled himself around her from behind while they lay on their sides, enfolding her into his warmth and hugging her as she clung to him, sniffling softly.

And he loved the feel of her hanging onto him. It-along with her calming trembles and lack of tears-went a long way towards soothing him, too.