His hand hurt like the dickens—like it belonged to a large animal. But a part of her wanted to feel something new. She wanted to cry. She wanted to release all of her emotions. And she wanted to feel safe. She hoped Bertram could come through for her. She relaxed her bottom and took a deep breath, releasing it as she listened to him behind her.
She heard the dull jingle and the sound of his leather belt sliding through his trousers.
He held the wide leather belt in front of her face. “You may kiss it and thank me for using it on your bare bottom.”
She felt the heat creep up into her cheeks as new warmth pooled between her legs. “Th-thank you, for sp-spanking my b-bare bottom,” she stuttered, suddenly out of breath, and kissed the belt in front of her mouth. The leather smelled wonderful and felt supple and firm against her lips.
He walked to her side, and she watched from the corner of her eyes as he raised his arm above his head.
She heard the swoosh as the leather flew through the air and bit into her cheeks.
“Ungh!” she grunted as another line of fire erupted on the right side of her bottom.
Stroke after stroke had her mewling and shaking. It hurt so badly. She was sure she would die from the pain. Thank goodness he had strapped her down or she surely would have fallen onto her head by now. She felt grateful for Bertram and all he had done to save them and to help her brother and now.This.
She felt the first tears escape her tired eyes, and she hiccupped. Another lash just below her bottom had her screeching in agony. “I’m sorry!” Another wide line of fire below that. She groaned and tried to kick her legs—to no avail.
“What are you sorry for, Jillian?” He struck her with the belt, catching her in between her bottom crack, and she choked on a sob.
He struck her three more times in rapid succession, and she screamed, “All of it! I’m sorry! I hurt him! All my fault!” She groaned and collapsed over the horse, unable to stop the sobs that shook her whole body.
She felt something warm engulf her body and felt his hot breath next to her cheek. He pressed his body against hers, giving her his warmth and his strength, and she finally felt safe. She closed her eyes and paid no attention as he quickly unstrapped her and scooped her up into his massive arms.She barely remembered him carrying her into her bedroom and bundling her into the warm fluffy blankets. She could scarcely feel the heat from her ravaged backside against the cool of the sheets as she fell into a deep sleep.
She awoke screaming at the memory of the wolves. She shivered and tried to slow her racing her heart but couldn’t calm herself.
She saw Bertram’s shadow from the corner he must have been sitting in. He rushed forward and took her shaking body into his arms, holding her tightly until she finally relaxed.
“I’m scared,” she couldn’t stop the pitiful cry that came from her mouth.
He lay her back down into the bed and spooned up against her back, holding her tightly into his chest.
“I promise I will protect you.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Go to sleep, honey.”
For the first time in a very long time, she felt loved and safe. She fell asleep to the rhythmic sound of his growl-like snore, his large palm and hairy arm wrapped tightly around her. Even though she had never before slept this close to another man, she felt the connection. It felt right. And she slept well.
CHAPTER 4
CORAL
Coral paused to blow some warm breath into her frozen fingers. She had to take her gloves off to fiddle with the aerator that had stopped working in one of her fish ponds. Of all the times for the damn thing to seize up, it had to be in the middle of a blizzard. She didn’t want to risk the chance of waiting until the snow had stopped falling since she wasn’t sure how deep it would be and if she’d be able to get out here. By then all of her fish friends could be dead.
She glanced back towards the lodge hoping Mr. Wolfe didn’t notice she was outside. He would make her come back in and then lecture her endlessly on proper dress during a blizzard. Mr. Wolfe ran the fantasy lodge and he really was an incredible man, but she couldn’t help but think she was just an addition to his collection of wayward freaks. He didn’t look at it that way, of course, and she actually believed he genuinely cared for her. Coral knew the truth, though. She was a “little girl lost” running from her checkered past and hiding out until her past stopped looking for her. But if she were really being honest, she was actually a “littlemermaid lost”, and her checkered past involved a bad deal made with a cantankerous old sea witch.
Mr. Wolfe knew all of this and still welcomed her into his lodge with open arms. At first she thought he had ulterior motives. In her experience, nothing in life ever came free, and he did run a sex lodge that specialized in making guests’ fantasies come true. At the time she first arrived, Coral was just damaged and vulnerable enough that he could have taken complete advantage of her. She was brokenhearted and lonely, with nothing left to live for. But instead of preying on her weaknesses, he suggested she take care of the aquarium that had just been installed in their main sitting room. Since then, two fish ponds had been added out back as well as two more aquariums in other areas of the lodge.
She had taken a room at the lodge—her defenses high and her suspicions even higher. But that had been over two years ago. She had finally slipped into a familiar routine of taking care of her extended fish family and playing in the lodge’s dungeon as a resident submissive when the mood struck her. She had sworn off love, but she wasn’t dead. She still liked to play.
She was broken out of her internal reverie as the aerator whirred back to life, the gentle humming startling her. She bid her fish a quick goodbye and promised to come back to visit as soon as she could cut a path through the snow. Bounding back into the house, her boots and pants caked in ice, she ran smack into Mr. Wolfe, who was walking with a tall and burly man. Mr. Wolfe grasped her by the shoulders, steadying her as she swayed from their impact. Coral’s eyes flicked from Mr. Wolfe’s stern look to the amused eyes of the handsome stranger. His head was wrapped up in a bandage and his dark hair was sticking up at odd ends, but it was the kind eyes beneath the bandage that drew her in. Blue as the ocean she once called home, and she felt lost in his gaze.
“What were you doing outside?” Mr. Wolfe gave her a little shake, snapping her focus back to him.
“The aerator went wonky again. I just wanted to get it going before the snow really started,” she replied.
He glanced outside at the ongoing blizzard then back at her, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and light leggings.
“Go get changed and get something warm to drink,” he commanded.
“Yes, s-sir,” she stuttered.
