Bad Kitty Page 8

  Her heart pounded as she drew up her skirts and raced toward the hedgerow, throwing the letter into the thick shrubbery just as Bram bore down on her.

  Breathless, she whirled, fearing the massive beast would trample her.

  Bram’s expression was black. “Where do you think you’re going, my good lady wife?”

  She could never tell him the truth. “Back to my uncle’s,” she blurted, unable to think of another excuse.

  His eyes darkened. “He won’t have you, and I won’t have you blackening my name any further than it already is. Now turn around and march your arse back to the manor.”

  “Not until I get my things,” she added, hoping he would at least allow her to return for her belongings.

  Bram straightened in his saddle. The horse snorted as if its master’s foul mood were contagious. A wicked smile spread across Bram’s face and he walked the horse an impossible step closer.

  Kitty spun to get out of the beast’s way but when she did, she felt the sharp sting of Bram’s riding crop on her bottom. “I told you that you would not be needing any of your belongings,” he said.

  She gasped and shot him a hateful look while she rubbed her offended anatomy.

  “To the manor,” he ordered. “Move or I shall make you pull up your skirts so that I can swat your bare bottom while you walk back.”

  Kitty’s clitoris heated at the thought of it but there was no telling how many curious servants would see her backside displayed while Bram thoroughly spanked her with his crop. Still, the idea of exhibiting herself sent tendrils of desire through her limbs.

  Anger vied with the craving to be dominated. When he was like this, it was difficult not to challenge him, not to drive him to tear down her exterior and assuage that yearning between her thighs. Still, now was not the time. If she put up a fight, he might notice the letter she’d hastily hid in the shrubbery.

  “Very well,” she snapped as she started back toward the manor.

  After he passed his horse off to a footman, he followed her to the door, but instead of escorting her to her chamber, he took her elbow and led her to his study. Terror rose as he drew her behind his desk. He pushed on one of the wall panels and the bookcase swung open to reveal a dark, narrow hallway.

  Panic surged.

  “Where are you taking me?” she demanded.

  “To make certain you won’t try to run off again.”

  Kitty’s pulse pounded as she looked down the hallway with dread. She swallowed thickly. “What is this place?”

  “The bridal suite,” he said with a sarcastic edge as he ushered her in front of him.

  Kitty stumbled as he urged her along but his tight grip on her elbow kept her upright.

  When they arrived at the end of the hall, Kitty gaped. She was in a chamber—no, a dungeon—lit dimly by torches. On one wall hung chains. A small bed was pushed against another wall, and Kitty gasped at the sight of black sashes tied to the posts. Various other items lined the shelves on a third wall and although she had never seen such things before, Kitty knew they were devices designed to inflict exquisite tortures.

  In the middle of the room was a raised dais. It looked, to Kitty, like some sort of stage designed for…spanking. A smooth, rectangular block was positioned in the center and Kitty knew, without a doubt, she would soon be naked and on her knees, with only that block to support her as Bram punished her. Manacles tethered to chains were fastened down with big bolts at each corner of the dais. Kitty’s cream gathered at the thought of being chained there and at Bram’s complete mercy.

  “Take off your dress,” he said tersely.

  Kitty’s pulse rioted. She stared, shocked. “Here?”

  “I won’t have you running off again.”

  Kitty laughed, trying to hide her fear. “Do you propose to keep me naked for the rest of my life?”

  One black eyebrow arched wickedly. “If need be.”

  He snatched her dress at her hips and yanked it upward, chemise and all, pulling it just over her head and then twisting it so the sleeves caught her arms. She stood facing him, completely bared with the exception of her stockings and slippers, her arms trapped behind her head. A slight tug backward caused her to arch toward him.

  At once, her nipples tightened and swelled.

  He pushed his knee between hers and pulled her closer so that she was riding his thigh. “Now, you will be a good Kitty, won’t you?”

  Another twist of the fabric caused her breasts to brush the rough brocade of his vest. Kitty moaned, relishing the coarse graze to her nipples and the heat emanating from his thick thigh.

  “Won’t you?” he purred again.

  There was no use in fighting. She wanted to give in to what her body craved. “Yes,” she whimpered, wanting more.

  With a twist she was free of her dress but he spun her around so that she had to brace herself against the wall to keep from falling. A sharp swat landed on her buttocks.

  Kitty arched, ready for more as warmth spread through her sensitive backside and down the backs of her legs.

  “Have you forgotten how you are to refer to me?”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten!” she snapped and then bit her bottom lip, bracing for another blow.

  His palm caressed the curve of her hip as he leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “Climb onto the dais, Kitty.”

  She glanced once more at the imposing dais and the block. Her heart thundered against her rib cage. The idea of being restrained, bent for whatever punishment he wanted to mete out to her, both thrilled and terrified her.

  “Go and bend over the block and I’ll give you what you want.”

  Common sense screamed that she fight him but she did not want to do that. She wanted to bend over that block and be chained at wrists and feet, to subject herself to his whims. Before she could stop herself, she was walking toward the dais, climbing onto it and laying her body across the smooth, cool wood. It was just long enough to support her trunk and head and just the right height so that her hands and knees braced on the dais, the block slightly declined so that her backside was thrust higher into the air than her head.

  “Spread your legs.”

  Instantly she complied, trembling in anticipation of what he would do next.

  Cold steel clamped around one ankle and then the other.

  Her center pulsed maddeningly. She tried to swallow but could not.

  “Give me your hand,” he said in that velvet voice.

  Kitty stretched out one arm, allowing him to shackle her. She could not believe she was so willingly submitting to this but when he came ’round the dais, she offered the other hand without protest. In the back of her mind, she justified that if she got this over with as quickly as possible, she could escape once more to retrieve her letter and get it to the post office.

  As it was, she was now completely at his mercy. In this position, he could spank her, tongue her, fuck her anywhere he wanted and there was little she could do about it.

  Bram caught her chignon and lifted her head off the block until she was looking into his eyes. “You will not run from me again. Is that understood?”

  She stared defiantly, willing to play his game.

  When she didn’t answer, he snorted and let her hair loose before he went to the shelf.

  Kitty watched as he gathered several items and brought them back to her. He laid them in a row on the dais. A little whip made of ribbons. A leather paddle. Something that looked like a phallus with a belt on it to hold it in place. Curious little pieces of jewelry. “I’ll let you think for the time being about what your punishment might be.”

  Kitty’s eyes grew wide. He was leaving her here?

  Like this?

  No!

  But she watched him walk away, listening to the sound of his footsteps as they faded.

  Kitty wanted to scream. She ached for him to touch her, to torture her until she throbbed between the legs. She wanted him to shove his cock up inside her and bring her to that feel
ing again.

  Most of all, she desperately needed to get her letter posted.

  Damn him!

  * * * * *

  Bram returned to his study, trying to ignore the voice in his head that told him to go back to that room, unchain Kitty and fuck her in his bed.

  Such ideas were insidiously threatening. He had made her his wife against his better judgment. He damn sure was not going to let her under his skin.

  There was plenty of paperwork to do before he returned and gave her the sound thrashing she deserved for trying to make a fool of him. Had she merely been testing him, wanting him to ride her down and drag her back, or had she really wanted to get her belongings?

  There was only one way to find out.

  But first on his agenda was penning a letter to his father’s barrister to inform him of his recent marriage.

  The old duke would not like it but there was little he could do about it now that Bram had ruined her.

  She had gone willingly onto the platform. She had prostrated herself to receive her punishment. Bram inhaled. He could go back there right now and bury his cock to the hilt in her. Maybe filling her full of his seed would dampen this fire in his breeches.

  He had thought as much before but one taste of her had only made him mad for more. Then, he had been consumed with roiling emotions. He had made a fool of himself, rutting her like a hound to a bitch. But now…

  Now he was in control. He would show her what a good fucking he could give her and have her on her knees begging for more like a seasoned harlot.

  His cock lurched against his tight breeches and he shifted in his chair. The words on the paper in front of him blurred but somehow, he managed to write the letter to the barrister. There would be no looking over the accounts. Not today.

  Not while his newlywed wife was chained and waiting for her punishment.

  Chapter Seven

  After Bram dispatched a crew of servants to collect Kitty’s belongings, he checked his pocket watch. It had been a full hour since he had left her to contemplate her new surroundings—to grow wet and ready for anything he desired to mete out to her.

  As he made his way down the hallway to the dungeon room, anticipation set his every nerve on edge. He had toyed with more than one willing participant in this room. Why was Kitty any different? What about her made him as giddy as a love-struck teenager?

  Kitty jerked when he entered the chamber. “You bastard!” Fire danced in her dark gaze. Redness encircled her wrists and ankles where she had struggled against her bonds. Tendrils of blonde hair meandered wildly over her back and shoulders. With her thighs spread and her rump in the air, she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Her golden mons glistened in the dim light and although Bram chuckled, all he wanted to do was lose himself in her beautiful, supple body.

  “How does it feel to be chained and spread for your husband?” he asked.

  She growled.

  “You are absolutely beautiful, Kitty,” he said. Her skin was flawless and white and the thought of turning her bottom bright red made his cock rock hard.

  He moved around the front of the platform and watched her eyes as he reached down to the dais to finger the whip. While the ribbons looked rather benign and playful, the little knots tied along the lengths were deceptively lethal in creating the perfect sting. But her eyes did not widen with alarm or warm with desire when he touched that particular toy.

  He then reached for the phallus. “Would you like this fake cock shoved up you, Kitty?” he asked. “Perhaps I could fuck your arse with it and bury my own cock in your delectable little cunny. Would you like that?”

  He lifted it, holding it in front of her face. She twisted her head as he rubbed it along her cheek.

  “You’re the very devil,” she seethed, rattling the chains with her futile struggles.

  Bram placed the dildo back on the table and then he lifted the leather paddle. Kitty’s eyes widened.

  Her cheeks flushed pink.

  Ah yes. She did so love to be spanked. “This will be our plaything of choice today,” he drawled.

  Her body shivered as he slid the tip of the paddle up her arm, over her shoulder, down the length of the back, over the enticing curve of her ass and down the back of her thigh.

  “I want you to tell me why you ran away,” he said.

  “To go home,” she said. “To get my things.”

  “I told you that you would not need them.” Bram knew exactly how hard to apply the first swat. The sharp slap of leather on skin reverberated through the room.

  Kitty cried out but it was not a cry of pain. Instead, it was a tense cry of need.

  Behind her, he could see that the crevice between her legs was already damp. He inhaled, breathing in the sultry scent of her sex.

  “Does that feel good?” he asked. “Do you feel the heat, the sting of the paddle?”

  She moaned.

  “Would you like another?” he asked as he teased the tip of the paddle up her inner thigh and patted her golden mound with it.

  Her body tensed. She had obviously not expected to have a choice. And he had not expected to give her one. The power she held over him was intoxicating. Dangerous.

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  Bram drew the paddle back and swung it with a little more force. She sucked in a breath when it made contact with her bottom. Her fists clenched and her legs shook.

  The imprint of the paddle on her ass cheek deepened from red to crimson. Bram’s cock grew as stiff as a steel rod in his breeches.

  “You are the wife of the heir to a duchy. Whatever could you want with your old belongings when you have the world at your beck and call?”

  “Another!” she cried. “Give me another, Master.”

  Slap!

  “Tell me, Kitty.”

  “No! Another. Spank me!”

  Slap!

  “Oh yes,” Kitty groaned. Her nether lips quivered as she tried in vain to squeeze her thighs together.

  Bram ground his teeth. Damn, he wanted to sink his cock in her and give her the sound fucking she deserved. But no. He wanted her begging for it. He wanted to break her will, to have her crawling on her knees and pleading with him to grant her a climax.

  But Kitty was not broken. Not yet.

  Her breaths came in great heaves while her entire body trembled. “Another,” she mewled.

  This time he swung harder. The stinging slap echoed and when Bram withdrew the paddle, he saw the plethora of bright red marks left behind on her pale buttocks.

  Kitty sucked in a sharp breath and wrestled against her bonds. “Yes, like that, Master. Again and again. Do not cease!”

  Bracing herself, she laid her head on the block and gripped the chains hard in her fists while Bram paddled her cherry red ass. With her blonde hair askew and her teeth set hard in her bottom lip, Bram thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her willing submission affected him like the strongest liqueur, dragging him back to his past, back to a time when he had been forced to submit to such treatment.

  Only he had not enjoyed it.

  He had tolerated it. He had bit his tongue and held his tears while his father thrashed him for minor infractions.

  Cry, boy! his father had shouted. I will not halt until I see your tears.

  But Bram had not cried. Not once. He had never given in.

  And neither would Kitty.

  The fight gone out of him, Bram dropped the paddle and kneeled on the table behind his bride. By now, crimson welts had formed on her skin. She was so still he wondered if she had lost consciousness. He traced one with his fingertips and she shivered.

  Bram trembled himself as he began to kiss the marks marring her pretty flesh. The desperate need to comfort her inundated him and he felt tears stinging his own eyes as he kissed and caressed her heated skin.

  Kitty moaned. “I want you inside me, Bram,” she uttered, her voice but a whisper. “Fuck me. Fuck me now.”

  Still kissing
her bottom, he undid his breeches and freed his turgid cock. Out of habit, he slid his fingers through her folds to see if she was ready. Her cream dripped and Bram’s cock pulsed.

  He swatted his own tears away. “You want me to fuck you like this while you’re chained and at my mercy?” he growled, teasing her with his fingers.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re wet enough for me to slide my cock up your arse,” he said, raking the head of his phallus through her drenched lips and up to prod her anus.

  Kitty trembled.

  “I can bring you to climax like that,” he uttered. “With my cock in that hole.”

  Flipping her loosened hair over her shoulder, she twisted to look back at him. “I want you in my cunny.”

  He pushed inside her and she let out a sound that was more animal than human. Her tight sheath felt like wet velvet, drawing him deeper and deeper within her. Bram shook and clutched her backside, fighting the desire to explode.

  His wife. His lover…

  Fuck.

  How many women had he had over the years while they were tied, bent impersonally away from him? That was not how he wanted Kitty.

  He wanted to feel her touch, to watch her face, to kiss her mouth.

  Abruptly he withdrew his cock. She voiced her protest but Bram stood and unfastened her chains while Kitty watched, bewildered.

  “Get up from there,” he ordered.

  “No—” she began but he lifted her bodily off the block and stepped down from the low dais with her, carrying her to the bed.

  He laid her gently on the mattress and then he began shucking off his clothes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This is our wedding day,” he ground out.

  Kitty gaped. What had come over him? At once, the hard, controlling Bram had grown sentimental and…tender. And while Kitty thoroughly enjoyed his sexual domination of her, she wanted to explore this side of her husband as well.

  As he joined her on the bed, she reached for him, drawing him down to her. His knees parted hers and with one slow and determined thrust, he was buried to the hilt inside her. Kitty gasped. This was not like the last time. This time there was no pain. Only pure, pure pleasure that made her want to weep with joy.