Claiming Her Innocence (12 page)

Lord Westcott smiled. “Yes,” he said. “You may have Betsy back as your maid. I trust you’ll be good enough to not need someone to mind you all the time.”

“Oh, I promise I’ll be very good,” she said. “And Betsy is so like a sister to me, even if she is a maid. I never had a sister, you know. And I do love her.” Penelope threw her arms around her husband’s neck. “You have made me so very happy.”

Chapter Thirteen: Downstairs Revisited

“Her ladyship’s maid?” The valet lifted the curtain of red hair from Betsy’s shoulder and dropped a kiss on the white skin. “Who’d have thought such a hot little piece would procure that position permanently?”

“Oh, really?” Betsy turned to the handsome young man whose hands now moved to her waist, even if his eyes remained fixed on the bountiful breasts with light pink nipples. “And this coming from a valet to his lordship with as keen a taste for pleasure as my own.”

He pulled her roughly to him. “Now, now, my sweet Betsy,” he said. “We both know what’s fine for the gander is not fine for the goose. Men are allowed their dalliances. It’s frowned upon for women.”

“Not in this house,” Betsy said. “In fact, I believe it may have helped me secure my position as a proper maid. In fact, I think my example brought the two of them together.” She giggled. “His lordship so much as told me so.”

“Well, now that he’s promoted you, you’ll need to be thinking of other ways to be a proper maid.” Tom moved his hands up to cup her breasts. “I’ve loved our adventures, sweet Betsy. I’ve had you alone and with a friend. But I grow jealous of sharing you, my sweet. I want to make you mine.”

“Do you now?” she asked, a saucy smirk on her face as her heart pounded at his words. “Well then, Tom, perhaps you should take a leaf from his lordship’s book.”

The valet spun her around, forcing her to grasp the iron railing of the footboard.

“And how so?” Tom ran his hand across the rise of Betsy’s ample bottom cheeks and then between her thighs, his fingers playing now in the damp red curls. She pushed back against him and smiled.

“Well,” she said. “It seems a woman only truly loves the man who masters her. Only that man can tame her, and it matters not whether she’s lady or maid.”

“Is that so?” Tom raised his hand and brought it down on Betsy’s wide bottom. She cried out and then moaned as he rubbed away the light imprint of his palm that had started blooming on her fair skin. “I’ve long suspected that this is the case with you, which is why I’ve secretly fallen in love with you. But it will take a fair amount of discipline to tame such a bold and adventurous girl as you, my headstrong Betsy.”

“Indeed it will.” She looked back at him, but her eyes had softened, for while she was a lusty woman indeed, her happy-go-lucky heart had been Tom’s all along. He’d always been the kindest of her lovers, the one she pictured when she was alone and there was no one to soothe the ache between her legs.

She’d never thought of settling down with just one man. Given her open enjoyment of sex, she thought no man would want her. That this man did thrilled her—and all the more because he was doing and saying all the right things to increase her longing for him.

“I’ll tame you all right,” he said. “His lordship’s not the only one capable of playing master. I may not have a title or lands, but I’ll cherish and protect you as surely as if you were a lady. But I’ll guide you, too, sweet Betsy. You’ve been allowed to run wild too long. You need the feel of a man’s hand on your bottom, not just for pleasure, but for honest correction. You need to learn to mind, and that will take a man who can give you patient, consistent correction. And
this
…”

He pushed into Betsy then, and although she was more than slick, the fullness of his cock thrilled her. It felt different now, with the tall, elegant valet leaning over and whispering in her ear that it was time she settled down, as his wife, with him. It felt better, right.

“No more roaming for you, my kitten,” he said, pulling his cock nearly out of her before thrusting back in. “From now on, you’re one woman for just one man. And I intend to drive thoughts of all others from your mind. And from what you’ve told me of his lordship’s unique relationship to Lady Penelope, won’t it be nice to relate to her, knowing you face the same thing at home…” He thrust into her again, hard. “With me?”

“Oh, yes! Yes, Tom!” She was pushing back against him now, her heavy breasts bouncing, her lush curves warm and soft under her lover’s hands. Betsy’s pussy gripped Tom’s cock tightly; the contractions now drew moans that mingled with hers as the pair continued to consummate their new relationship.

When they came, Betsy felt more than the usual release. She felt claimed, fulfilled, and happy. And when Tom gently raised her to standing and turned to enfold her in his arms, she smiled. She now had her own handsome guardian. Her ladyship had been right; happy endings were possible for everyone.

Epilogue

Eight months later

“Part your legs.” Lord Westcott raised his gaze from the glass in his hand to study his wife’s position. She was leaning over the sofa, but her stance, in his opinion, was wanting. “Wider.”

She looked back, her expression a mixture of saucy defiance and lust.

“Wider,” he repeated. “Or do I need to redden your bottom again?”

This time Lady Penelope Westcott obeyed, spreading her legs to better expose herself to his view. Between her thighs, her bare pussy lips were forced slightly apart by the engorged folds of flesh dripping with arousal. Above, the rosebud of her bottom twitched in anticipation of his touch.

He smiled. That this was the same woman who’d prepared to take vows of celibacy less than a year earlier seemed impossible to fathom. Since sinking himself into her lush body, he’d had no desire for any other. Ever curious and nearly insatiable, Penelope was all he would ever need.

If anything, the repression of the convent brought out her latent rebellion against convention. Penelope was ever eager to present any part of herself to her husband, be it her pussy, her mouth, or her ass. And Alton discovered that the submissive streak he’d detected in his wife early on was deeper than he’d imagined. In Penelope, he had a woman he could spank for both correction and pleasure. Today, he decided, it would be for both.

Lady Westcott had been in a mood, largely due to her husband’s absence. It was late spring—a busy time on the estate. The Westcott holdings included croplands and sheep, and Alton personally made rounds to oversee the production and visit the tenants. Although Penelope knew this was part of his duties, his time away left her moody. Upon his return, his sweet wife could be peevish, and nothing set her to rights like a sound spanking.

On this occasion, he had decided she warranted both the slipper and the cane. Penelope had cried prettily as he brought the leather down again and again, painting oval splotches across the white expanse of a round bottom that of late had grown pleasantly fuller.

Now he stood, putting down his brandy snifter and reaching for the cane resting beside the chair. He could see her tense as he approached to stand directly behind her. Holding the cane out, he touched the tip of it to her clit and then dragged it up her cleft as she shuddered and moaned.

“Do you remember telling me how Sister Agnes caned poor Susan for touching herself?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her voice was small.

“Tell me again how you thought of that in the night…”

It was one of Alton’s favorite pastimes to extract these little confessions from his wife, knowing she secretly enjoyed the humiliation of this new form of confession.

“I would close my eyes and think of how her bottom jiggled,” Penelope said. “I could see her pussy between her thighs. I’d never seen one, not even my own.”

“And what did you think of it?”

“I thought it was… intriguing. It made mine ache to see it. It felt wrong.” She paused. “I liked feeling wrong, even if I didn’t believe it at the time.”

“How did you feel when you saw the lines on her bottom?”

“Excited and afraid.”

He stood back, tapping the cane.

“Bad girls get the cane. Did you want it?”

“Not from a stodgy old nun,” Penelope replied.

“Good answer.” He brought the cane back and with a flick of his wrist landed the first blow. She hissed from the pain. “Of course, if you want your husband to cane you, you only need to ask. It’s not necessary to be churlish toward me for carrying out my obligations on the estate.”

“No, my lord,” she said. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

“I beg your pardon?” he asked, arching a brow.

“No, papa,” she corrected.

The cane fell again. Penelope whimpered and sank down, but he ordered her back into position. When she felt the cane tap her at the juncture of her buttocks and thighs, she looked back pitifully. “Oh, please, not there.”

He smiled, knowing, as scared as she was, that she’d be disappointed if he didn’t do just that. The cane drew back, then forward. As the line began to form across the tender crease, Penelope stamped her feet and rubbed her bottom.

“Three more,” he said. “And you will hold still.”

She put her feet down, and put her bottom up and out. The last three strokes fell hard, leaving reddish purple wheals.

“Will my little wife be more welcoming and less sharp-tongued on my next homecoming?” he asked.

“Yes, papa,” she sobbed. And now he stood behind her, his finger dipping down to her drenched pussy.

“All is forgiven, then,” he said thickly. “And now I shall make it better.”

He circled her bottom hole with his lubricated finger before pushing it in. He’d long used the last of the trainers, and Penelope had learned to take his cock with hungry ease. She groaned and pushed back as he slipped in the first digit.

“Is my wife ready to take my cock in her beautiful ass?” he asked.

“Oh, yes.”

She parted her legs and he sank into her pussy, pumping her several times and holding her hips tightly as she pushed back against him. When she was close to coming, Alton pulled out and lined the head of his shaft up against her dusky rosette. She pushed back, moaning and he watched, mesmerized, as she wiggled her bottom down onto his shaft. The sight of his cock disappearing between the punished bottom cheeks was one he never got tired of seeing.

Her ring of muscles gripped him as he began to thrust into her tight ass. Reaching beneath Penelope, he rhythmically squeezed her clit as he fucked her, feeling the walls of her pussy pulsing through the velvet tunnel of her bottom.

“Oooohhh… yes,” she said, and the sound of her encouragement, the feel of her, unmanned him. Alton held her hips as waves of pleasure rippled through him, forcing his seed into her upraised bottom.

Afterwards they lay on the bed.

“I love you, you know,” she said.

He smiled and kissed her. “And I, you.”

She turned to him. “Do you think we should start having you put your cock in my bottom—only my bottom—sometime around the end of summer?”

Alton looked down at her, puzzled by the question.

“After all,” she continued. “I still want to feel your cock inside of me. But by then I’ll be so full with child…”

He sat up suddenly. “Penelope, why did you not tell me sooner?”

“I thought you would be too gentle with me,” she said. “And I wanted to show you that none of what we do needs to be stopped, at least not right away.” She bit her lower lip. “Betsy’s mother is a midwife, and I had a word with her. She assures me our bed sports are quite safe until late in the pregnancy.”

“You saucy minx!” he said, pulling her into an embrace. “You are full of surprises. Promise me you’ll never change.”

She laughed. “Oh, my dear,” she said. “I am dedicated to keeping your interest. In fact, I’d say it’s my calling.”

The End

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More Stormy Night Books by Ava Sinclair

The Marshal’s Little Girl

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But Gage soon learns that his captive has a secret. Wilhelmina doesn’t just want to be his woman, she wants to be his little girl. She needs his love, his care, and his firm hand applied to her bare bottom when she is naughty. Though Gage is ready to oblige, the west is a harsh and dangerous place for a woman, even with a hardened lawman like him by her side. Can he keep Wilhelmina safe, or will the shadow of her past prove impossible to escape?