Daring Passion Read Online Free Page A

slipped down her thigh.
    His hands traveled lower, palms flat against her stomach and
abdomen. Index fingers delved into her bellybutton in passing. When the edge of
his hands rested in the creases of her thighs, he rotated his wrists until his
fingers rested over the outer lips of her quim.
    She had to lean forward to rest her hands on his shoulder,
lest she fall over. Waves of fire washed up and down her skin, from toes to
ears. He drew apart the puffy outer folds of flesh between her legs and stroked
what he found within.
    Anne couldn’t contain a long groan. She was burning up,
fired to a glow to equal the torch’s, fueled by the play of his fingers over
the recesses of her slit. She almost screamed when he found the entrance and
pushed a finger into her body. She clutched at his shoulders and wiggled
against the intruding digit.
    He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her stomach. His
tongue dipped into her navel and licked.
    When she thought she would melt or die, he suddenly stopped.
He withdrew his fingers, then moved his hands up to her waist. He looked up at
her.
    “You have much to learn yet, my Lady Anne, but it seems
you’re like to be an apt pupil.” One corner of his mouth twisted into a brief
smile. “There are other lessons you must learn as well. At first they may seem
less pleasant, yet I think you’ll find something of comfort in them in the
end.”
    His hands tugged her toward closer, but instead of being
pulled into his arms as she expected, he tucked her down and flipped her over
and across his knees, so that she ended up draped across them, bottom up, hands
on the floor to support her.
    “My lord!” she said, startled and fearful.
    “I promised your parents I’d take care of punishing you for
the attempt to seduce me tonight. I keep my promises.”
    Before she could draw in enough air to protest, a large hand
slapped down hard on one side of her naked derriere. The sting made her squeal
and wiggle in an effort to escape. His arm came down around her waist, holding
her in place, then another hard slap set the other cheek burning.
    “Ohhh…ow!” she protested. “My lord! Please! That hurts.”
    “Of course it hurts. Punishment is supposed to hurt.”
    He whacked several times in rapid succession. Anne groaned
and begged him to stop. Tears gathered in her eyes. She thought she’d die from
the humiliation of it. She wished he’d let her take her father’s beating with
the rod. At least that was an adult’s punishment. She felt like a small child
turned over a parent’s lap. Only this was her future husband, which made it far
worse.
    He ignored her pleas, and smacked smartly down again and
again, alternating sides. She moaned and yelped, kicked and wriggled, trying to
get him to stop the assault on her derriere. She struggled to roll away or jump
up from his lap. His hold on her was too firm for her to get away.
    The strikes kept coming. His large hand could deliver a
solid wallop that covered most of the curve of one cheek. Her bottom grew hot
and sore and began to throb. Anne squealed at each blow and screeched on
particularly hard ones. She could hardly bear it as each slap sent waves of
pain shooting through her. Her derriere must be fiery red and felt swollen to
twice its normal size.
    “Stop! Please stop, my lord,” she begged, as it went on and
on, and the fire in her bottom grew to a blazing torment. “Please! I’ve had
enough. I can’t bear any more.” She was starting to fear he’d keep on until she
fainted or died with the pain.
    “Your bottom’s barely a nice shade of red,” Lord Richard
replied. “And we’ll stop when I decide you’ve been adequately punished.” With
that he spanked down hard again. Anne screeched.
    “Please, I’m sorry. I’m very sorry—yeooow!” The word ended
in a scream when he smacked sharply, his hand striking the most tender skin
right at the joint between her bottom and her thighs. Then he spanked the same
spot on the other