CHAPTER 11
Valerie
The realization should have brought pure joy. And it did, in a way. But it was tangled up with fear too—fear of disappointing him, of not being the wife he deserved, of this terrible wrongness inside me that made me dream such shameful things.
Around mid-morning, something else began to demand my attention.
The saddle.
Every step Daisy took created a gentle rocking motion. A rhythmic pressure against my most sensitive places; my still slightly sore whipped bottom, at first, and then further forward. At first it was just mildly pleasant—something I barely noticed. But as the ride continued, the constant friction and movement began to have an effect.
My pussy started to throb.
I shifted in the saddle, trying to find a position that didn’t press quite so directly against my clit. But every adjustment seemed to make it worse, as the lingering bruises from the switch demanded attention too. The leather rubbed against me through my jeans. The rocking motion of the horse created a steady, maddening stimulation.
Heat bloomed between my legs.
No, I thought desperately.Not here. Not now.
I tried to think about something else. Focused on the trees, on the mountains in the distance, on the conversation Chris and Joe were having about local wildlife. But my body wouldn’t cooperate. Every step the horse took sent another pulse of pleasure through me, reminding me of my whipping on the trail and Chris’s skillful hands between my legs and even between my bottom cheeks.
I became acutely aware of the seam of my jeans pressing against my clit. Of the way the saddle tilted forward slightly, putting pressure right where I was most sensitive. Of how the horse’s gait created a steady, rhythmic stimulation that my body was responding to with mortifying enthusiasm.
My face burned. Thank God Chris was riding slightly ahead now, following Joe up a steeper section of trail. If he could see my expression?—
The thought sent a jolt of arousal through me so intense I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping.
What would Chris do if he knew? If he realized I was getting aroused from riding the horse? Would he be angry? Would he punish me for being so naughty? I knew I couldn’t bear it if he decided to whip me again.
My pussy clenched at the thought. I squeezed my thighs together instinctively, and the pressure made everything worse. Better. I couldn’t even tell anymore.
I was going to come. Right here on this horse, on a public trail with my husband just ahead of me and a guide leading us through the mountains.
The wrongness of it should have stopped me. Should have been enough to kill the arousal. Instead, it only made it more intense.
I thought about the dream. About being displayed and watched. About Chris using me in front of an audience while everyone saw what a naughty girl I was. About the way my bottom looked with the switch’s marks across it… the way Chris had put his finger in my anus…
My breathing quickened. The pressure built and built, my clit throbbing with every step Daisy took. I was right on the edge, my whole body tense and trembling?—
“You doing okay back there, Valerie?” Joe called over his shoulder.
The interruption shattered the moment. The arousal didn’t disappear, but it pulled back from that dangerous precipice.
“Fine,” I managed, my voice higher than normal. “Just fine.”
Chris glanced back at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “You look flushed. Need to take a break?”
“No, I’m okay.” I forced a smile. “Just not used to riding.”
He held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded and turned back to the trail.
I took deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. But the arousal didn’t fade. It stayed with me, a constant throbbing presence between my legs, building and receding in waves as the ride continued.
At lunch, we stopped at a scenic overlook where Joe had packed sandwiches and cold drinks in his saddlebags. I dismounted on shaky legs, my pussy aching and sensitive, my jeans damp.
Chris spread out a blanket and we sat together, eating and admiring the view. He kept his arm around me, occasionally pressing kisses to my temple or my hair. The casual affection was so sweet it made my chest ache.
I listened to him talking to Joe about the best fishing spots in the area, marveling at how comfortable he seemed, how genuinely interested in what the older man had to say. There was no arrogance in him, no need to dominate the conversation. He just listened and asked questions and shared his own experiences.
