Chapter 6
Chapter Six
He’d planned to go easy on her, but the remark about hopping a bus sealed her fate.
When his big hand connected with her sweet little bottom, she stiffened with shock.
He had to hand it to her. He’d expected an explosion, but she did exactly what he’d told her to do.
She didn’t swear, scream or fight him for at least ten serious swats and he felt a little guilty.
Obviously, she’d taken him at his word and thought if she behaved it would be over quickly.
He had no such intentions, and even if he had, they’d gone out the window with her admission that she thought about running away.
God help her if he ever had to chase her down.
His hand fell over and over again; creating what he hoped was the worst sting with the least damage.
While he couldn’t call it fighting him, she did try to crawl away, and he pulled her back into place and tightened his arm around her waist. Whimpers escaped and he stopped for a moment to reach down and remove her shoes.
No sense risking getting clocked in the head.
At the eleventh smack, she turned and glared at him accusingly, but still kept her lips tightly pressed together.
She was very fair skinned and colored quickly.
He could see hot pink above and below her panties and wanted very badly to lift her cheeks and smack her good there as well.
How dare she think she could up and leave him like that?
The devil was on his shoulder the entire time.
Pull her panties down.
You’d better check for damage.
She’s going to be your wife, there’s no sin in looking at what will soon be yours anyway. Go on, son, give it to her good. Drinking, drugs, kissing other boys, she deserves it.
Better take her in hand now, son, before you put that ring on her finger or she’ll make your life a merry hell.
Sean fought it. He loved her. She deserved his respect.
Aye, she’d earned a proper skelping, but he didn’t need to humiliate her.
He reined in his anger and reminded himself he was teaching her a lesson.
It was instruction of a sort, and his intention was not only to punish her for poor choices she’d made, but to let her know what to expect should it happen again.
He gentled. She was already good and red.
There was nothing to be gained by going overboard.
But why wasn’t she at least cryin’? She hadn’t even asked him to stop. Maybe he was being too gentle with her? He could feel the anger radiating from her small body, but he didn’t sense a lick of remorse, nor had she asked for his forgiveness.
There was an old sayin’ ‘never grab hold of somethin’ you’re afraid to turn loose’ and he finally understood what it meant.
He had no idea what would happen if he released her, but he knew one thing for sure and certain.
If he did, Maeve Donahue would never become his wife.
He’d lose both her and his self-respect.
The devil won.
Sean didn’t allow himself time to think about the right or wrong of it, he just whisked down her panties, took a moment to admire her sweet bottom and commenced spanking her again.
She was covered with fingerprints blending together, but when he cupped her bottom in his hand, it was hardly hot at all.
No wonder she wasn’t pleading for forgiveness.
Her scream of indignation was music to his ears.
Increasing both the strength and speed of his smacks, he smiled when she broke into a steady stream of the worst language that had ever assaulted his ears.
He could envision a problem in the future with such words and made a mental note to keep a bar of soap handy.
Unless she was under severe distress, he would give her a good soaping for such an offense.
Right now, she was obviously under distress.
Her feet were drumming the bed, she fought like a wildcat and when she turned to snarl at him, her cheeks were streaming with tears.
“Have you somethin’ to say to me?” he asked, staying his hand. “An apology perhaps?”
“Go to hell, O’Malley,” she screamed. “I hate you.”
Sean shrugged and began to pepper her arse with short, sharp swats.
He made a point of smacking up from the underside of each cheek until she was howling.
Still he kept on, praying for her remorse.
A few simple words were all he required, I’m sorry, I’ll behave, forgive me, but they took a long time coming.
He really had to work for them and it made them all the sweeter.
“Oh, God, Sean. Please stop,” she cried. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I swear it.”
He was a bit disappointed she wasn’t sobbing. Good grief she was stubborn. “No more talk about runnin’ away?” he asked, slapping her bottom with gusto.
“No, never. I’ll never leave you.”
“And you’re going to be good lass?” Smack.
“Aye, always, well mostly…I’ll try my hardest,” she promised.
“That’s good enough for me,” he sighed, turning her over and lifting her to his chest. It only seemed fair to keep her bottom off his rough jeans.
That’s when the sobbing started, catching him off guard.
She threw her arms around his neck and soaked his shirt as she sobbed out her apologies, promised to love him forever and never leave him.
Frantically, she clutched him closer, nestling her face into his neck.
Rocking her gently, he crooned to her, telling her how long he’d loved her, how precious she was to him and a million other things it would seem strange to say out loud in any other circumstances.
When her sobs turned to sighs and hiccups, he laid them both down on the bed and cuddled her close, although it seemed she couldn’t get close enough.
One of her legs was thrown over his and the heat of her body pressed to his thigh was nearly his undoing.
Instead he took a firm hold of himself, rubbed her back and held her tucked under his arm and against his chest.
They must have dozed off as the next thing he knew, his mother was standing in his bedroom doorway holding Maeve’s bag as she stared at them with an open-mouthed gape.
“I found this in the drive,” she snapped before dropping it on the floor of his room and giving it a kick.
“I can’t say as I blame you,” she sniffed as she stared pointedly at Maeve’s blazing bottom which was fully exposed.
“At least not for that,” she nodded, “but I think we’d better move the weddin’ up.
” She slammed the door and Maeve jumped, looking at him with confused eyes.
“Shh, ’tis nothin’,” he soothed. “Go back to sleep, darlin’.” Her eyes slipped closed and she snuggled back up to him. Sean smoothed her skirt down and pulled a cover from the end of the bed. A triple bang came from the wall.
“What?” he called gruffly.
“Nice goin’,” his brother yelled.
Sean could hear him laughing. “Shut up,” he replied, smacking the wall. Thankfully, Maeve slept through the whole exchange.
* * *
Dinner was a stiff affair. His mother was barely cordial to his bride-to-be and he sighed in relief when it was over and they excused themselves from the table.
Sean decided then and there when it was time to look for a place to live after they were married.
He was going to make sure it was as far away from both sets of parents as possible.
The first year or two of married life was sure to be an adjustment and they didn’t need others stickin’ their noses in where they didn’t belong.
Maeve was quiet, bordering on sullen and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.
When she’d woken in his arms, he kissed her tenderly and she responded.
It took him a few minutes to find her panties and he gave them to her, leaving her alone to put things to rights.
In his mind it was over, a debt well-paid and he couldn’t understand what was wrong with her.
He wanted to put it behind them; she seemed to want to chew on it.
Apparently the sweet, repentant lass who’d fallen asleep in his arms, was long gone.
Instinct told him to find a private corner of the house and give her a few good smacks on the behind. He was not going to put up with a brooding and pouty wife, no matter how cute she was. Once a spanking was over, he expected her to be his sweet, witty lass again.
Of course, once they were married, he’d be able to love her back to good humor now and then if her offense wasn’t outlandish.
“I’m ready to go on home,” she said, drawing him from his thoughts. “I can walk; in fact, I’d prefer it.”
“No, I’ll take you in the car. ’Tis getting’ dark.”
“Sean, I’d really like to walk. I need some fresh air.”
“Fine, we’ll walk then. Let me get my coat.”
“I’d rather walk alone if you don’t mind,” she said, raising her eyes to his.
“I do mind, lass. It ’tis getting’ cold, your legs are bare, I’d much rather we go in the car.”
“The cool air will feel good,” she insisted, shifting from one foot to the other.
“Aye, I imagine it will,” he agreed with a grin.
She spun and took hold of the doorknob. “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. O’Malley,” she called out before she slipped out the door.
He caught up to her down the street and fell into step beside her, keeping his strides short. She could move quickly for a little thing he observed as she marched along. Leaves swirled around them in the brisk autumn air, but the chill coming from his Irish whirlwind was much more noticeable.
“Would you like to tell me what’s on your mind?” he asked calmly.
“Somehow I don’t think you’d appreciate it,” she replied. “’Tis not really necessary for you to see me home,” she sighed, stopping and turning to look up at him. “I’ve been walkin’ these streets all my life and not come to harm yet.”
“That subject is closed for discussion, Maeve. I don’t know what happened between the time you were cuddled in my arms and now, but I’d like to.”