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Authors: Sue Lyndon

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nobody with nothing.

Tears flooded her vision, and she blinked rapidly, hoping the brothers hadn’t seen. Brave

girls didn’t cry. She’d overcome so much adversity in her short life, she could overcome this.

She hadn’t kicked away groping men on the streets, fought off starvation on long winter nights,

and survived many a night locked in the dark, cold jail cells as punishment for thieving just to

become the plaything of a pair of Banded brothers.

“What’s her name?” Trent asked, raising an eyebrow at Gavin.

Gavin glanced over his shoulder at Amelia, and she bristled that they were talking about

her while she stood here quiet and trembling. She stepped forward with a hand on her hip, her

anger lending her the extra ounce of bravery needed for a confrontation.

“My name is Amelia. Not that my name even matters, because I’ll be leaving right now.

You can’t keep me here.” She beamed inwardly at the harshness of her tone, the sharp cut of

steel in her voice. She might not have their size to intimidate, but she had her mouth. Well, as

long as she didn’t start fumbling for words and stuttering out of fright.

Her hands curled into fists as Trent rounded the bed and came to stand before her, a smug

smile drawn on his face, giving him a careless look. Unshaven and with messy hair, not to

mention his wrinkled clothing, the grin took years off his face, and more of Amelia’s fear left.

But more anger soon took its place, bubbling under her skin. What right did they have to keep

her? Her hands itched to slap the smile off Trent’s stupid rugged face.

“Most people say ‘thank you’ when someone saves their life,” Trent said, his eyes

darkening a shade, yet still remaining an unearthly color of blue.

She sighed in frustration and threw her hands up. “Thank you for saving me from the

spider. And the cat. Now, I’d like my dress back.” The garment was nowhere to be seen. She

couldn’t traipse through the forest in a thin nightdress. “Oh, and my shoes too.
Please
. I’ll be

leaving at once.”

His smile faded completely. “No.”

“No?”

“I found you, and I’ve a mind to keep you, girl.”

Girl
. She shuddered when he called her that.

“Where are you from?” Trent asked, his eyes drooping. One of the light indeed. She

expected him to pass out on the floor at any moment and start snoring like a bear. “Which

village? You were far from any village when I found you, and I’d like to know where you call

home.”

Amelia pressed her lips together and looked at his chest, unwilling to divulge this

information. Where she called home had never felt like home anyway, and his asking only

reminded her of that lonely fact.

A laugh boomed through the room. “I think she must be a runaway. Or maybe a little

thief who doesn’t want her hand cut off. It’s fortunate we found you, sweetling,” said Gavin.

“The village I’m from might be considered backwards, but we do not cut off people’s

hands!”
Oh, no
. Her hand flew to her mouth. She’d said too much. They might be able to guess

her village now.

Trent stepped forward and tilted her chin up with one finger. Her stomach fluttered at the

contact, so gentle, yet so firm. “Tell me what crime you committed,” he said, his hot breath

fanning against her face. The close contact had her ready to come undone, and she wasn’t sure

why. As soon as someone dared touch her in the village, they got a slap to the cheek, or a knee to

the groin.

“I didn’t commit a crime,” she said. It was the truth. But if she tried to explain about the

murder and Beatrice, they might not believe her. They might haul her back to her village, to the

noose that awaited her neck.

Trent’s eyes narrowed. “You’re running from something, and I want to know what it is.

Tell me now, girl, I don’t have all night.” He yawned and swayed in place.

Her fury rose. Just because Trent had saved her life didn’t mean she belonged to him. Or

them
.

Oh, Goddess
. They shared their women. If they kept her, she’d be forced to spread her

legs for them both.

“Let me leave,” she said.

“No. You’re not leaving,” Trent responded with another yawn.

The second yawn did her in. Amelia snapped. She uncurled one of her fisted hands and

slapped Trent smartly across the face. The impact stung her palm, and she recoiled, stepping

back as she cradled her poor hand. She regarded Trent with fear, expecting retaliation. He

glowered at her, a red handprint marring the bare part of his cheek, right above his silvery white

facial hair.

“I am tired. I am going back to sleep.” He turned to leave. On his way past Gavin, he

paused. “See that she’s punished.”

Amelia’s heart picked up, and her palms broke into a sweat. She regarded the brothers in

shock, wondering exactly how Gavin would punish her. The knot in her stomach told her it

would be physical. As barbaric as the Banded Men were portrayed in all the stories, of course it

would be physical. She closed her eyes and prayed this was a dream, but when she opened them,

Trent was walking out the door. He pulled it shut with an ominous thud, leaving her alone with

Gavin. The one of the night.

“Well, Amelia, you’ve only been here for a few hours and it seems you’ve already been

naughty.” He clucked his tongue as he rounded the bed, backing her into a corner. She turned her

head, refusing to look at him even as he blocked her in. He grabbed her wrists and pressed them

against the wall as he leaned over her, preventing her from making the slightest movement.

“He deserved that slap,” she defended. “And if you didn’t have my arms pinned down

right now, I’d slap you as well.”

Gavin chuckled, and she fumed that he’d laughed in her presence several times so far, as

if she served as a newfound source of amusement for him. She tried to wrench her hands from

his grasp, but he tightened his hold. She felt vulnerable and small in his grasp, and his pitch

black eyes held her captive.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please let me go.”

“You have no idea how dangerous it is out there,” he said. “Females who live in the

forest require protection. If we let you go, it would be a death sentence.” He grinned. “Besides,

my brother believes you are a gift from the Goddess. Our new mate.”

“Why don’t you already have a mate?” She wasn’t sure why, but the question slipped

from her mouth.

“We returned from war not long ago. We claimed this abandoned castle, and we’ve been

preparing to take a woman. You fell into our laps like a gift from the Goddess herself, don’t deny

it. Perfect timing, I’d say.”

“Perfect timing, my ass!” She twisted in his hold, only for him to press his center against

her, and she stilled the moment his erection, rock-hard and huge, poked her in the stomach. She

shuddered to think how large his cock actually was, and hoped against hope it wasn’t in

proportion to the rest of his body, in case she had the misfortune of having to accommodate it.

“Well, speaking of your ass…” He began dragging her to the bed, and she pulled against

him with all her might, panicking in the face of an unknown horror. Whatever he was about to do

to her, she knew it would be awful. Traumatizing.

“Let me go!” she screeched, but soon found herself upended over his lap. Bottom up. She

froze, not quite believing.

Oh, no
. She was over his knee, and he meant to spank her.

This realization had her squirming and clawing at his legs, trying to force him to release

her, to let her run out of the room and far away from this punishment. Far away from this castle.

“You’re feisty,” he said, wrangling her wrists together, until he had her hands pinned at

the small of her back. “I like that.”

“Well, I don’t like you!” It was a childish thing to say, but it was all she could come up

with under the circumstances.

His hand came down, slapping her ass with an impact that stunned her. Even through her

drawers and the nightdress, she felt the full sting of the blow. He gave her a dozen more slaps in

this fashion, and she kicked her legs and tried to slide to the floor. Beneath her stomach, his

organ swelled harder. Larger. She kept kicking, wanting to escape his punishing hand and the

hard evidence of his arousal. What a beast he was to become aroused as he chastised her, and so

unfairly at that.

“You will apologize to my brother in the morning, sweetling. We might seem a bit

barbaric to you, but we aren’t so uncivilized and disrespectful as to slap you in the face, and we

expect the same propriety from you.”

“You can shove your propriety up your ass!” she screamed, unable to hold her tongue.

Her whole life, people had mostly avoided her due to her smart mouth. She was sweet when it

suited her, and sour and spiteful when it suited her as well. A personality for each situation. She

should’ve been born in a larger village with more culture, or perhaps a city far away, and she

could’ve been a fine actress. Instead, she’d grown up as an orphan in a poor village cut off from

all other villages, an outcaste among outcastes. Lonely among the lonely.

Heat seared her bottom, and the stinging blows didn’t cease falling. Gavin spanked her

thoroughly, pelting both her cheeks from top to bottom, and the pain soon caused tears to prick

in her eyes. The instant she felt moisture on her face, her tears finally falling, she hated him all

the more. Despite her increasing hatred, she didn’t have the energy to keep squirming. She was

exhausted, spent from the ordeal of her trek through the forest, almost dying, and then waking up

the captive of two strangers—Banded Men who thought she was a gift from the Goddess.

Her tears began to flow freely, and she buried her face in the clean, soft bedcovers. She’d

stopped thrashing her legs, and now she simply hoped Gavin would take pity on her and end her

punishment. No one had ever spanked her before. She’d been slapped in the face plenty, pushed

around, and even kicked a few times, but never spanked. It was horrible, but at the same time

different than all the other physical hurts she’d suffered through. This one hurt her heart the

most, and she wasn’t sure why. Was it because he meant to teach her a lesson in manners?

No. It couldn’t be. She’d just met Gavin. And she hated him. Oh, how she hated him to

the moon and back.

“Are you sorry for disrespecting my brother?” Gavin asked, pausing with his hand

covering her tender, flaming backside.

Amelia didn’t respond, keeping silent with her friends Pride, Anger, and Obstinacy.

“Very well.” He pushed her nightdress up until it bunched around her waist, and parted

the slit of her drawers. The cool air kissed her heated flesh, but instead of soothing the burn, it

seemed to reignite it. She whimpered at the pain, and shame washed over her. He could see her

bare bottom, no doubt bright red, and she felt his cock twitching and growing larger still beneath

her stomach.

“I—I might be sorry,” she said tentatively. She didn’t want a bare-bottom spanking, and

now she was beginning to question if her behavior had indeed been rude.

“You
might
be sorry?” he asked, rubbing her flesh. The skin-to-skin contact rattled her

senses. Why did his touch feel intimate? Was she so starved for physical contact? She brushed

the questions aside, instead focusing on her supposed misdeed.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have slapped Trent in the face,” she offered.

“He risked his life to save yours, sweetling.”

She sighed. “I know. But I don’t believe the Goddess gives people away as gifts. It’s

preposterous. She makes the world grow, plants, animals, and people, but I don’t think she

interferes in our lives that way.”

“Have you ever prayed to the Goddess before?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point. I can’t help it. When I’m in trouble, I sometimes pray. Or

when I’m thankful. It’s habit, I guess.”

“My brother and I prayed for a sign, a sign to lead us to the right woman we’d share the

rest of our lives with. None of the woman born to the Banded called to us.”

“There are more of you?”

“Yes. We’re scattered through the forest. Small communities here and there, mostly

located near the old castles.” He paused and continued stroking her bottom. She hated to admit it,

but it felt rather nice. She much preferred his tenderness to his harshness, though she still wished

to escape.

“Well, if you must know, I prayed in the forest for my life, and for my
freedom
. To say

the Goddess answers prayers is ridiculous if you think about it. Why should she answer yours

and not mine?”

He squeezed her mounds, pulling at each cheek as he did so, parting her until air rushed

against her cleft, down to her bottom hole and her sex. “Don’t be foolish, sweetling.” Humor

colored his voice. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“What?” she asked, frustrated.

“My brother and I are the answer to your prayers; you just don’t know it yet.”

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