Chapter 5
JILLIAN
Jillian awoke with a grumble and a sigh. Her back was no longer covered by her large sleeping partner. She felt cold and lonely and turned over onto her back.
Ow. Her bottom ached from last night. She flung back the covers and found the large mirror in the bathroom. What did her bottom look like? Was it beet red, with lash marks and cuts and stripes? It certainly felt that way.
She turned around and inspected herself in the mirror. There was still a faint hue of pink and a few small red lines, but surprisingly no other marks or bruising. She thought her bottom would be a mangled mess of black and blue and purple.
Touching a sore spot, she shuddered as she felt the trickle of wetness between her legs.
Oh! The feeling from last night! It had warmed her core and caused her tummy to do flip-flops.
She had been too busy trying not to flinch at the pain last night to pay much attention to this other feeling.
But she could feel it now. It settled deep in her gut and made her feel fevered.
Her arousal strengthened as she smacked her bottom gently. She pinched her bottom cheeks between her fingers. Ow! The heat continued to build in her core.
After staggering to the bed, she flopped down on her tummy.
She thought of Bertram’s large hands and the hardness in his spanks against her bare bottom.
She ground into the mattress, while her hand lightly swatted her backside.
Being careful to miss the sorest spots, she warmed herself up with a minute of fast strokes and pinches.
What if Bertram were spanking her right now? “Mmm,” she groaned. Calling her a naughty little girl? Telling her he would spank her bottom so hard she wouldn’t sit down comfortably for a very long time?
Her pulse quickened as she reached around and found her most intimate spot. The wetness clung to her finger—sticky, moist, warm, and luxurious.
Fumbling onto her back, she pictured what she must have looked like over Bertram’s knee. Squirming over his lap. Her bottom bright and red as he spanked her soundly. She would cry and beg him to stop. But no, he would not stop until he was done with her.
She vigorously flicked her tender nub and distributed her wetness. Oh my heavens, what wonderful torture.
Continuing her stroking and exploration, she visualized her spanking. He would see the wetness between her legs and would tsk her. Naughty girl, getting turned on by your spanking. He would spank her softer this time. She would open her legs to him, inviting him in.
He would reach his fingers between her legs and slide them along her wetness. His eyes would darken.
She pressed her finger inside the warm, tight wetness, and her body trembled with excitement. “Oh, Bertram, please more,” she whispered into the pillow.
A violent fit of shakes erupted from her as her core spasmed and tightened around her finger. She groaned as she withdrew her soaking wet finger and shook from the pleasure, writhing on the bed until she had finally calmed.
Embarrassed at where her thoughts had taken her, she lay catching her breath on the crumpled sheets.
She had never done that before. Shaking her head, she went into the bathroom to start the shower.
She had never even thought about those sorts of things before Bertram, before her first spanking.
She climbed into the steaming shower and felt the hot water cascade around her body, soothing her sore muscles.
Spanking had aroused her. Was that a weird thing? Was she some sort of freak for feeling that way? Did others incorporate spanking with sexual desire? She hadn’t seen any signs of sexual activity during her brief visit through the lodge.
Oh God, what if there was something wrong with her? She lusted after the man who had spanked her!
Bertram had seen her naked body last night, and he must have seen the evidence of her arousal. Was he not attracted to her in that way? Had he just been being a gentleman? Or was he playing a gentleman in wolf’s clothes?
That’s stupid, she admonished herself. He had been nothing but kind and considerate the entire time she had known him.
That must mean he wasn’t attracted to her.
Oh, how embarrassing. He saw her naked and was not attracted to her in the least. That’s what he had said on their first meeting.
She wasn’t curvy enough. She knew her breasts weren’t as big as some of other women’s and that her hips were not as curvy.
She was petite and had a slight, athletic build.
Scrubbing her body vigorously several times still did not take away her anger. How dare he not be interested in her! How dare he judge her for being a freak and liking her spanking, and even more so, becoming aroused?
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became at her foolishness.
Well, she would have to play it cool. Pretend last night had meant nothing to her.
She would stay away from Mr. Wolfe for the rest of her stay.
And as soon as this blizzard was over, she and Jake would leave, continuing on their journey to find mates.
The matchmaker would help them find suitable mates, ones that did not include spanking in their lives.
She dressed quickly. Someone had been kind enough to leave her several outfits hanging on the door of the bedroom.
She threw her long dark hair into a ponytail and stormed from the room.
First, she would check on Jake. Then breakfast. Then she would spend the rest of the day avoiding that big, bad Mr. Wolfe.
BERTRAM
Bertram flung the lodge door open and pounded the snow off his boots.
He had thought a run through the snow would help him cool off, but he couldn’t get that image out of his head.
Tiptoeing into the room, not wanting to wake her, he had found her spanking and pleasuring herself.
It had taken every ounce of willpower he had to not storm into her room and ravage her with his own body.
His tongue had salivated at the thought of tasting the luscious nectar she spread with her own fingers.
He had watched from the shadows until he couldn’t take it anymore.
Then quietly hanging the outfits he had procured onto the door, he had crept out before she realized he was there.
After growling at a few of the employees, he had stalked outside and used his magick to transform into his other half.
, loping around for an hour before realizing it wasn’t doing any good.
Frigid temps and brisk exercise in wolf form weren’t cutting it.
It was time to try the human approach—by himself with one hand.
Afterwards, he finally felt able to talk to employees without biting anyone’s head off, and famished and tired, he entered the dining room.
Glancing around the busy dining area, everything seemed normal, and dominants were taking turns giving swats to submissive servants.
But something still seemed off. Where was Redd?
He had not seen her at dinner last night.
There was no way she would have gone out hunting, not after the specific instructions he had given her. Would she?
“Perdonami, Signore Wolfe,” Pino, his porter, addressed him with a shy bow. He carried a bundle of clothes, and if Bertram was right, the young man did not want him to see what he carried.
“Good morning, Pino, what do you have there?”
“Um, I, um…” the young man stuttered and looked around uncomfortably.
“Show me.” He leaned forward and couldn’t help the low growl that escaped.
Pino opened up the package and showed him the red Lycra leggings and jacket, Bertram immediately knowing whom they belonged to.
“Pino, did you see her come in?”
Pino swallowed and let out a quiet squeak, “You know I cannot lie, sir.”
“Then tell me.” He backed away to give him a little space. He could tell he was intimidating the poor man.
Pino took a huge gulp. “Well, I saw her leave last night when I was finishing my rounds. I was placing fresh towels in a few of the rooms at 10:00 p.m.”
He nodded for the nervous man to continue.
“Well, you should see this, sir.” The young man turned and fled in the direction of the suites.
Bertram had no problem keeping up with the gangly, puppet-like young man. His legs were almost twice the size of the smaller man’s. When they rounded the corner, he saw what Pino had been talking about.
Wet footprints, coming from the back entrance. Size 7, if he guessed correctly. Female.
He clenched his fists and willed himself not to lose his temper.
“Well, when I saw the wet footprints this morning, I knocked on her door to make sure she was okay.” Pino looked down and fidgeted with his hands.
“Continue.”
“She answered the door in her towel and said she had just gotten in, and um… she said not to tell you.”
Bertram nodded and clenched his fists, digging his claws into his palms as a low growl escaped from his throat.
Pino’s face turned scarlet red as his eyes widened in fear. “Mi dispiace, signore. I think I got all the blood out this time. I’m sorry, sir,” he squeaked, and his little legs trembled.
“I understand, Pino. Thank you for your honesty. You may return to your duties.”
“Grazie, signore.” He fled as fast as his legs would carry him.
Bertram counted to ten and inhaled, then released the breath. Then he knocked on the door, three quick raps.
“It’s about time, Pino. What took you so…” The young woman with the strawberry blonde hair stopped what she was saying when she saw it was him and wrapped the robe more tightly around herself. “Oh. Hi, Daddy.”
“Little Redd.” He strode into the room and shut the door. He took in the haphazard appearance of the room and watched as she nervously made the bed. “So, how’s your day going? Anything interesting?” He sat on the edge of the bed and watched her flit around, picking up dirty clothes and towels.