Betrothed to the Bandit

Chapter Thirteen

Lydia paced back and forth inside the hotel room. If Dean thought she paced too much from cabin fever, he would be shocked by her behavior now.

Every minute Dean wasn’t with her felt like torture. She thought of everything that could go wrong with the plan. How would Dean convince John to remove his name from the account? Dean hadn’t mentioned to her what he planned to use as leverage.

She wished she’d been able to convince him to let her stay with him, but he’d been firm in his desire to protect her. She thought of the many ways Dean had protected her since she’d met him, starting with saving her from certain death in the storm. She needed him to come back to her. She needed him to be safe and well.

Just when she thought she might burst with anticipation, there was a knock on the hotel room’s door. She ran to it, unlocked it, and flung the door open, revealing the person she wanted to see most in the world. His brows were furrowed and his expression stern when he said, “Did you just open that door without first asking whether it was me?”

“Um, yes? It’s good to see you too!”

He stalked in and closed the door behind him, locking it after he did. He folded his arms in front of his chest and glared at her. “I would expect you to be a little more conscious of danger.”

Lydia was practically giddy at the sight of him. She had a hard time taking his sternness seriously. “Oh, Dean, don’t be so strict with me. Tell me! Is all well? What happened?”

“All is well,” he said. He walked over to the bed and sat down. “I’ll tell you what happened while you’re bent over my knee getting a spanking.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead.” His stern expression left little doubt, and when he rolled up his right shirtsleeve to the elbow, all doubt was removed.

“A hard spanking?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes,” he said, crooking his finger. “Come and lay over my lap now, or it will be worse for you.”

She sighed haughtily and walked to him. Dean had spanked her with a belt before. She’d practically begged for it then, and she hadn’t doubted he would do it again, but she could hardly believe he would do it now, and over something so silly as forgetting to ask who was at the door.

He took hold of her arm and pulled her over his lap. He rested a heavy palm on her bottom, causing her belly to flutter wildly with anticipation. He swatted her with some force, but she felt little more than a dull pat through the layers of her frock and petticoat.

“John removed his name from my account. He won’t be able to get my royalties. He also handed over ownership of the mine.” He spanked her again.

“That’s good! How did you convince him?”

“I told him it was either that or go to prison. I pretended that if he did what I asked, I would let him have the miners’ money and escape with it, and he actually believed me. But tomorrow, if all goes to plan, the marshal will arrest John while he’s out trying to find money at the false location I’ll give him.”

He tossed up her skirt and layers of petticoats and laid them neatly across her back. Only her thin drawers protected her bottom from his hand, so when he spanked her again, it stung. She squeaked and said, “That was smart.”

“The swat or what I did?”

“Both,” she giggled.

“Thank you. And thanks for figuring out the conspiracy. If it weren’t for you, I would be ruined.” He spanked her a few more times, increasing the heat.

“This is what I get for saving you, a spanking?”

“No, what you get for saving me is my undying love and devotion. What you get for putting yourself in danger is a spanking.”

“I see,” she said, feeling warmth spread throughout her body. She looked back at him over her shoulder and smiled. “I love you too.”

His stern face relaxed for just a moment before it returned to serious. He set to work untying her drawers. “You won’t be needing these for what comes next.”

Lydia buried her face in the quilt as he bared her bottom. The cool air of the room brushed against her naked flesh, making her feel especially exposed and vulnerable. “A bare-bottomed spanking feels so embarrassing right now, Dean.”

“Good,” he said. He spanked each cheek with moderate force. “Maybe after this, you won’t forget to take your safety as seriously as you take mine.”

She had no response, so she remained quiet as he set to work punishing her poor seat. The swats were hard and layered one over the other on her sensitive skin. The sound of each slap was so loud in the sparsely furnished room that she wondered if other guests could hear what was going on.

“Ow, ow, ow!” she squeaked, as his punishing hand connected with the sensitive skin on the under-curve of her bottom, right where she sat. “Sitting will be most uncomfortable,” she told him.

“I hope so,” he growled. “I hope you remember this the whole journey home.”

Lydia clenched her fists, trying to absorb the pain of each swat. He wasn’t going easy on her, as she suspected he might, considering she’d just saved his life.

He spanked her right cheek a dozen times in a row, building the sting to an impossible level before moving to the left. “You’re a brute!” she cried, throwing back her hand to try to protect her poor bottom.

Dean caught her wrist and held it against her lower back without slowing the swats. “Just where your safety is concerned,” he admitted. He spanked a few more times, then stopped and stroked her bottom in circles.

Lydia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, relieved at the sudden reprieve from punishment.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” Dean said. “Your body is so sweet. I want to devour you every time I see you.”

“Mmm,” she murmured. Her stomach fluttered as his punishing hand, now turned gentle, stroked down her legs and back up again.

“Spread your legs,” he said, his voice low and demanding.

Her breath caught, and a flare of desire shot through her. She buried her face in the quilt and shifted. She moved her thighs apart slightly, barely an inch, so Dean took over. He guided her leg toward him, then gently pushed her other leg away so that it dropped down over his knee and her toes touched the floor. She felt obscenely exposed with her legs sprawled so far apart, and the fanning of cool air that brushed her sex accentuated her exposure.

She held her breath as the tips of his calloused fingers scraped over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, from her inner knee upward, touching her with such exquisite slowness she felt as though she might burst before his fingers reached their destination.

When his fingers finally dipped into her slit, she convulsed and grasped the quilt with both hands.

“It’s as I expected,” Dean said, his voice a rumbling growl. He slid a finger further, touching the little bundle of nerves and swirling his finger around it languidly.

Lydia arched her back and gasped. The touch was more than she could stand, but she also didn’t want him to stop. “What’s as you expected?” she whimpered.

His finger stopped swirling, and he removed his hand briefly, before landing two heavy pats to her sex. He grasped the entirety of her pussy possessively. “You’re wet for me. You enjoyed that spanking, and you’re aching for me to enter you, aren’t you?”

“No!” she protested. “Don’t get it into your head that I like spankings. You spank hard, and it hurts.”

“Don’t lie, or I’ll spank you again harder,” he said mildly, giving her mound another spank. This time the swat landed painfully over her little nub, but the pain was quickly followed by pleasure as he resumed stroking her sensitized sex.

Her toes curled. She moaned and shifted, trying to feel more of his touch, willing him to do something more, something rougher than the gentle tease of her flesh with his fingers.

“Tell me how you feel, Lydia,” he said.

“Please… I need relief.”

“Tell me you need to be spanked and fucked often,” he said, and slipped another finger inside of her.

Delicious humiliation washed over her as he pumped two fingers in and out of her, causing her to writhe and clench every muscle of her body. “I need to be spanked and fucked often,” she parroted back to him helplessly.

“Good girl.”

She was reveling in the sensations, eyes closed, mewling as he took her toward pleasure.

Then without warning, he removed his hand from between her legs and spanked her bottom, over and over. “And don’t ever tell me again that you don’t like getting spanked, little liar,” he said.

His hand blazed fire across her seat, causing her entire body to tense up. She gasped and clawed the quilt, desperate to escape his punishing hand, but his forearm against her back kept her tightly in place.

He halted the spanking, which brought some relief, but the reprieve was only to pull her body closer to him. He repositioned her legs so that each naked thigh draped on either side of his left knee. He resumed spanking, hard, causing her mound to crash against the muscles of his thigh in rhythm. The pain mounted along with the pleasure, and she couldn’t make sense of her desire to escape the pain and simultaneously squeeze from it the pleasure that seemed just out of reach.

Mercifully, he ceased spanking and moved his hot hand to between her legs once again. His fingers were as gentle on her velvet flesh as his palm had been hard on her bottom. She moaned and surrendered to his ministrations. Again, he entered her with two fingers. For a time, all that could be heard was the slick sounds of him sliding in and out of her along with her gasps as her arousal climbed.

All at once an orgasm burst through her like dynamite, and she screamed.

Dean continued to pump his fingers in her pussy, but he wrapped his other hand over her mouth. His harsh whisper tickled her ear. “Hush! All of Elkio doesn’t need to know I’m fingering your wet little cunt.”

She choked back her cry of pleasure, stunned by his crude language, which only managed to heighten her excitement and make it more difficult to stifle her moans. This was the same terrifying man who had held up the stagecoach, the one who was fiercer than any other man she’d seen in her life. But he was also Dean, her soon-to-be husband, who wouldn’t hesitate to punish and love her in the fiercest way possible.

She mewled against his hand, breathing hard as her orgasm receded. Still holding a hand over her mouth, Dean removed his fingers from where they were buried inside of her and stroked his hand lightly over her bottom.

Once she had ridden the last delicious wave of pleasure, she found herself unable to speak with his hand still covering her mouth. She nipped his finger, not too hard, but enough to cause his hand to jerk away from her mouth in surprise. “You little brat,” he growled. “You’ll pay for that.”

He stood with her and bent her over the bed. “Keep that bottom high in the air for me.” She could hear him unclasping his belt, and a shiver went through her. She braced for the sting of leather against her already punished flesh, wondering if she should protest. A whipping seemed a harsh sentence for a little bite.

He laid a hand on each of her hips and tugged her up against him. She felt his hardness and knew what he wanted. No whipping this time. He entered her slowly from behind, groaning as he pushed inside of her. “You’re so fucking tight, darlin’. Tight and wet.”

His thrusts were strong and demanding. He controlled the speed by holding her hips in place to accept every thrust of his cock. His body smacked against her sore bottom, igniting the sting each time.

“I love how you’re taking me,” she gasped. “It feels so good. So hot.”

He smacked her ass. The sensation of being spanked and fucked at the same time was too much to contain, and she shattered, her second orgasm even stronger than the first.

He came shortly after, flooding her insides with his seed, groaning as he held her in place to accept every drop.

They lay in each other’s arms on the bed after. Lydia’s bottom smarted, and her pussy felt sore, but never had she known such love and contentedness.

“Shall we finally get hitched tomorrow, assuming your headache doesn’t return?” Dean asked.

“No snow in the forecast?” she asked, cuddling up to him closer.

“Nope.”

“I’m almost disappointed. Being snowed in with you again sounds like just what I need.”

Dean kissed her forehead. “We have years of snowstorms to look forward to.”

She smiled and gazed into his eyes. “Good. All I want is to be stuck with my bandit forever.”

“Wish granted, my love. Wish granted.”