Birching_His_Bride - BN.jpg

Birching His Bride

Book 1 of the Domestic Discipline Quartet

Lady Eleanor Petersham knows exactly what she wants from her marriage - a man who will worship at her feet.

Instead, her father marries her off to her brother's best friend, the devastatingly handsome, authoritative, and devilishly dominant Lord Edwin Hyde.

It doesn't matter that he makes her entire body tingle when he kisses her, or brings her to heights of pleasure she's never known, or how he disciplines her when she plays nasty tricks on him - like throwing a dinner party which only includes dishes with ingredients he despises - she's not willing to give up on her version of marriage without a fight. 

Pain and pleasure struggle for dominance the same way husband and wife do in this relationship.

Excerpt

"Spread your legs," he ordered.  "And point your toes in."

Remembering the first time he'd seen Eleanor birched, in a position very similar to this, he couldn't stop the throb of heat that went straight to his cock.  Perhaps he shouldn't be enjoying her punishment quite as much as he was but Eleanor was an extremely attractive and sensual woman, and even a punishment became an erotic experience with her.  The creaminess of her skin around her rosy bottom, the flash of wet pink flesh at the center of her cuntpurse, the swollen lips pouting enticingly from their frame of damp, honey-gold curls. All of it seemed designed to raise a man's ardor, no matter the circumstances.  As he raised his arm he wondered if she would be as wet and aroused after her birching as she was after her spankings.  

The birch fell across her pink bottom, leaving streaks of darker red as Eleanor let out a gasping cry.  Her body bowed backwards a little, her fingers digging into the bed sheets.  A second blow fell across her quivering bottom, slightly higher than the first, leaving new dark welts across her flesh, stinging like a thousand angry bees attacking the already sensitized skin of her bottom.  With every strike her body jerked, although the birch fell five times before she truly cried out, her muscles flexing as she did her best to hold herself in position. 

"I'm sorry!" she said, her voice muffled by the bed sheets, desperate for the punishment to end, hoping a spontaneous apology might end the lashing across her burning skin.  Still, even now, contrite as she was, her pride couldn't quite allow herself to speak clearly or to face her husband.  Another stroke fell across her already flaming bottom and she choked back an outraged protest.  Eleanor was becoming quite heartily sorry she'd provoked her husband in such a manner; why couldn't she have been more patient?  Why did she have to make a production of things?  She'd regretted the menu almost as soon as her fantasy had been made into reality, why hadn't she realized beforehand that such a plan would not only result in a disciplining from her husband, but also the uncomfortable guilt? 

A blow landed diagonally across the pouting folds of her sex, making Eleanor howl and causing the pouting lips to plump, an angry pink beneath the thatch of golden hairs.  The tension in her body seemed to collapse and Eleanor no longer braced herself against the bed but lay across it, submitting to the birch as Edwin delivered the last three blows across her welted and burning red bottom.  

By the time he was finished he was breathing heavily, staring at his wife's lusciously tormented flesh as he dropped the birch to the ground beneath him.  Kneeling behind her, blood seemed to pound in his ears as he gripped her bottom cheeks in both hands, squeezing the tender cheeks and making her writhe.  The heat seemed to sear his palms, the musky humidity of her quim calling to him. Everything about her was hot and squirming, inflaming his loins in a way that savaged his self-control. 

"Edwin..." she said in a shaky voice as her husband squeezed her bottom, bringing with it a fresh surge of pain and yet something else too, something tingling along her nerves all the way up her spine and left her feeling breathless.

But surely... surely he couldn't want to do that right now. 

His hands pushed at her skin, separating her buttocks and she could feel his hot breath on her open sex.  Eleanor cried out a protest, trying to push herself up as Edwin leaned forward and planted his mouth onto her swollen folds, his tongue sliding up the center and wreaking havoc with her senses.  Bent over, completely exposed, her bottom throbbed painfully as Edwin began an erotic assault below it, his weight on his hands pressing her hips into the bed and making it impossible for her to escape this new humiliation as her body betrayed her. 

"Edwin, no... we can't... you just punished me..." Eleanor clawed at the bed sheets, her legs trembling with weakness as his tongue pressed into her.  If she had been supporting her own weight she would have fallen as pure pleasure lashed through her with stunning swiftness, mingling with the ache in her buttocks and confusing her utterly.  Despite the tears of pain still clinging to her eyelashes, the flames of desire in her core were already igniting, craving the tender tracings of his tongue, the rough abrasion of his hands against her skin.

"And now you're forgiven," he purred from behind her, slipping two fingers into her sopping heat and groaning with lust as she contracted around him.