Barrett shook his head. “Not yet. Mayhap they’ll sell off part of Hohenzollern’s holdings and I could build a structure.”
“If you’re going to build a house, would you consider the north fields ofRothburg? There’s eighty acres—that should be enough. Then you’d be close enough so we could call on each other to defend any attacks.”
Barrett looked elated. “Are you sure you can part with that much, brother? If so, I would gladly buy it from you. How much do you ask?”
Erik rubbed his stubbled face. “Consider it my wedding gift.” He smiled. “It’s my way of keeping you close.”
Barrett’s face reddened with emotion and he stood from the bed, clasping forearms with Erik, who also stood. “Thank you, brother. You honor me,” he said, bowing his head.
Epilogue
Daisy giggled and dashed ahead of her husband who thundered down the hall of their new home behind her.
Barrett caught her, as she knew he would, coming up underneath her and scooping her high into the air.
She shrieked like a child with fearful delight as he carried her, running, to their chamber.
“I told you to rest after dinner, did I not?” he demanded when they arrived inside.
“Aye, and I told you the garden should be weeded while the soil was still wet—ack!” She squealed as his huge palm landed on her backside.
“Little wife, when I give you a direction, I expect you to obey. And when you do not, you know perfectly well there are consequences.”
“I should think if you are so worried about my condition, you would not think of spanking me,” she said, placing her hands on her hips and attempting to look offended.
He swatted her again. “I’m not thinking of spanking you, I am spanking you,” he said, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and bending her forward while he landed several hard slaps to her backside. “Lift your skirts, little girl, and stand in the corner.”
She giggled, far more excited by his dominance than afraid. She loved to bait her bear, and gain some precious time alone with him, where she had his undivided attention. She stood in the corner, lifting her skirts above her waist.
“Hmm, which implement should I choose for a naughty wife?” Barrett said.
She peeked over her shoulder to see him standing in front of the box where he kept the little wooden paddle he’d made her, the strop—an old belt he’d shorted and split down the middle—the riding crop, and a wooden spoon from the kitchen. He picked up the strop. She ducked her head before he turned and caught her peeking.
“Come here, my naughty little wife,” Barrett said.
She turned to find him sitting on the bed, the strop in his hand. Despite the fact that she goaded him into this spanking, her stomach still did a somersault at the sight of him. In the two years since they’d married, she’d had every form of punishment out of him. Most were like this—he meant them, but his mood was light and they always included lovemaking.
A few times he’d been genuinely annoyed or angry with her. Thosespankings were terrible. It wasn’t about how long or hard he spanked, but about her state of mind during the punishment. She would inevitably end up crying, sometimes even before he’d started. Barrett would make sure she did not sit comfortably for the next two days, then hold her and speak gentle reassurances until she knew he had forgiven her.
She stood in front of her husband now, her legs beginning to shake.
“Ah, now she takes me seriously,” Barrett said with a smirk. He tugged on her dress, which she still held up to her waist. “Take this off. I want you naked before me.”
She pulled off her dress and chemise and covered her belly with her palms. Her waist had only just begun to expand—it hardly showed in her clothes, but naked, the new shape stood out.
Barrett’s face went soft when he gazed at her. He pulled her between his knees and stroked her hips, bottom, and thighs. “How do you feel, really?” he asked, peering up at her face with concern. He’d been monitoring her like a hawk since the first day her courses were late. That day he’d forbidden her to return to her work in the garden, insisting she rest, instead. She had waited until he’d left and returned to her work, anyway.
“I am a little tired,” she admitted.
“You need more sleep. And more rest. I appreciate your willingness to work so hard, but when I give an order to rest, I expect it to be obeyed.”
She wrapped her hands around his face and leaned down to kiss his head. “I love you,” she said softly.
He caught her hanging breast and squeezed it. “Over my knee, you naughty girl. I’m going to whip you and then I’m going to punish your bottom hole.”
She shivered with the combination of fear and excitement. She bent over his leg, resting her torso on the bed beside him.
He brought his hand crashing down on her upturned bottom in swift, firm strokes, warming her flesh and sending sparks of desire off in her core. “Naughty, naughty girl,” he said, continuing his steady beat.
