The Warrior and the Petulant Princess (12 page)

“Excellent. Thank you, Commander. We will sleep and eat, and be ready.”

Knowing his men were in capable hands, Larian hurried to Lizbett’s apartment and this time the guards did not stop him, but bowed their heads and opened the door as he approached.

Firmly gripping the riding stick he moved through the foyer, and without knocking strode into Lizbett’s bed chamber. She was standing by the windows, staring out at the mountains in the distance, and when she heard the door close she spun around.

“Larian, is everything all right? You took so long. I thought you were right behind me.”

“I had matters to discuss with Tholl, then my men arrived,” Larian replied. “Is there anything you’d like to say?”

“Only that I should have been able to take Scarlet out for a short ride,” she declared. “I’m very upset with Tholl for refusing to cooperate. I hope you put him in his place. The nerve of that man!”

Larian broke into a large smile.

“That was very good, Lizbett. Were I not trained in the wily ways of women I might not have seen through it.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she retorted, but even as she spoke she felt the betrayal of the red blush as it crossed her face.

“Your crimson cheeks betray you,” he said pointedly.

“I’m just excited about leaving!”

“Is your servant here?”

“Uh, no, she finished her work and has left to pack me some food for the journey. Why? Do you need to see her?”

“You know why, you also know you were totally in the wrong, and it is time to stop this foolish ruse and admit what a naughty girl you’ve been.”

He watched her struggle as the conflict raged inside her; his assessment was right.

The moment his voice had commanded attention when he’d arrived at the stable, Lizbett had known she was in trouble. Not only had Larian caught her fighting with one of his great teachers, she knew she was totally in the wrong and Tholl’s reasoning was sound.

It wasn’t the safest of times to be out on her horse, even with the guards, and she also knew the carriage was due to arrive and she shouldn’t be leaving anyway. She wasn’t even sure why she had thrown her tantrum and caused a scene; it was just something she’d felt compelled to do.

Now Larian was standing in front of her and had called her bluff, and still she was playing the game, acting the innocent, trying to distract him from her guilt. It was a game at which she excelled, but Larian wasn’t like everybody else; Larian could see right through her.

“Yes, all right,” she murmured. “I surrender. I was wrong, and just now I tried to divert attention from the scene I caused.”

“What do you think I should do about that?”

“Uh, well, since I’ve just admitted my wrongdoing, probably nothing,” she suggested, knowing full well it was a foolish response.

“Still you try? You are relentless. It’s a good trait to have, but sometimes it can get you into even more trouble. I’ll give you one more chance. What do you think I should do about it?”

“You are so hard,” she groaned.

“I’m waiting.”

“Since I am about to sit in a carriage for some time, I would think something other than spanking,” she said quietly.

“Just the opposite,” he declared. “I think sitting on a sore bottom is exactly what you need. Come over here and bend across your bed.”

“Sir?” she bleated.

“Yes, I am your Sir, and I’m pleased you addressed me as such. Quickly, there are things I must see to while my men are sleeping.”

As she shuffled across the room she spied the riding stick in his hand; her pulse quickened; it looked nasty.

“You’re going to use that?” she whimpered.

“I most certainly am,” he said firmly.

She paused for just a moment, staring at it, and he was happy she did; the fear of the thing rolling through her veins would only add to the anticipation, and anticipation was in itself a key element of any punishment.

Laying herself over the edge of the mattress, she cringed as her dress and the underlying petticoats were placed on her back, exposing her again in her thin, silky underwear.

“This will hurt,” he warned. “Face into the bed.”

She felt the stick lay lightly across the center of her cheeks; clenching her teeth she waited for the first stroke and it was a short wait; Larian dispatched the stick with a zinging swish.

Her leg kicked out, not as a conscious protest but an involuntary response, and as the burning mark radiated through her bottom she groaned into the bed.

Wasting no time he delivered the second and third, laying them close to each other, and seeing the angry red lines through the fine fabric he knew they were smarting keenly.

“Lizbett, you knew what you were doing was absolutely wrong, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Sir, I did.”

“Tell me why you did it.”

“I’m honestly not sure, Sir, but I think it might have been the bags.”

“The bags? What bags?”

“I became extremely frustrated and angry about the bags, I mean, being allowed only one. It was impossible, so I sent my servant to fetch two more even though I knew you would not allow them.”

“Ah, so your little scene at the stable was a rebellious act; you were angry about one thing, so you chose another to voice your discontent.”

“I, uh, yes, Sir, I think so.”

“You can’t always have things the way you want them, Lizbett. I understand this is new for you, but do you see where your moment of rebellion has landed? Directly across the seat of your bottom.”

“Yes, Sir, and it hurts very much.”

“You will not need gowns or fine clothes, and you will receive one more stroke for not following my instructions about the bag, then I will leave you. I will return when the West sun is about to set.”

“Sir?” she whimpered.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for making arrangements to bring Scarlet.”

“Do you think that will get you out of the last stroke?”

“No, Sir, I just wanted to say it.”

“Is it possible you’re really saying, thank you for punishing me? I deserve it and I want it?”

She paused, then moaned into the mattress.

How does he know these things?

He is a Zanderonian warrior, it has been said they understand women, and they are the only men who do.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“Then let me hear it. It will please me, and it will help you.”

“Thank you for punishing me, Sir, I deserve it, and…and…”

“Yes, go on.”

“And I want it.”

The fourth stroke sliced through the air, kissing her skin with fire, but before she had time to feel the depth of the stinging flame he had swept her up and was holding her tenderly.

“Dearest Lizbett, I must discipline you because I love you, because I want you to be happy and at peace. Any time you feel anger towards me because I punish you, please remember that.”

Surrendering into his arms she let out a long breath.

“Yes, Sir, I will, and I love you back, so very much.”

He held her until he knew she was feeling whole again, then gently kissing her he took his leave. He did have matters that needed his attention, and one of them was standing at attention in his pants.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T
he suns had set, and after tearfully hugging her father goodbye Lizbett donned a hooded cloak and hurried across the courtyard. Waiting for her at the door of the carriage Larian helped her inside then climbed in after her. Being an outstanding horseman, Zoltaire had been chosen to lead Scarlet as he rode his own horse until the mare settled down, then she would be attached to the carriage next to Thunder.

Flanked either side by the warriors the carriage rolled slowly out of the castle grounds, over the drawbridge and on to the road. The moons would be high in the sky when they crossed through the wall that surrounded Verdana, and then they would be in open country. They would be safe until the following day when they would enter the barren land where the marauders lived.

Larian wanted to travel the perilous part of the journey during the daylight hours. If the marauders did attempt to stop them Larian would see them coming; it would offer him and his warriors time to prepare, giving them the advantage. The barren land was flat and dry, there were no boulders the marauders could hide behind, only a few shrubs, so there was no fear of an ambush.

Larian wasn’t concerned about them per se; they weren’t a threat. They were weak fighters and even if significantly outnumbered the warriors would easily cut them down, but he didn’t want Lizbett to see battle; it was bloody and ugly. He also didn’t want them to see her; she would be the only reason they might risk a fight.

As they reached the outskirts of the kingdom, Lizbett curled up against him and nestled her head into his shoulder.

“Won’t we stop at all until we reach your house?”

“Yes, Lizbett, of course,” he replied pulling down the shades to block anyone peering inside. “The horses need the rest, and you will too. We will travel until we pass the barren land, then we will be guests of an elderly uncle of mine. He was once a fierce warrior and he is a legend in our Kingdom.”

“Why doesn’t he still live there?”

“He could, and he is always welcome, but when his days serving the realm came to an end, the Prince gifted him a beautiful home atop a knoll, with much land and many animals. It has a forest in which he can hunt, a lake in which he can fish and swim, and he is living his life in peace and harmony with the woman he married as a young warrior. He has grown children and they have many children, and there is always family coming and going.”

“It sounds wonderful. What a happy way to live out your life,” Lizbett sighed.

“He suffered greatly for it,” Larian remarked.

He fell quiet, and Lizbett saw there were painful stories about his uncle Larian held dear, and close to his heart.

“My bottom is so sore,” she complained thinking she should change the subject.

“I’m glad. What a naughty girl you were. I hope you’re ashamed of yourself, carrying on like such a spoiled child.”

“I didn’t tell it was sore so you scold me again,” she pouted. “I told you so you would hug me as you did after you whipped me.”

“There is a time for tenderness, a time for punishment, and a time for truth. You just heard the truth.”

“Oh, Larian, you can be so hard.”

“You said that earlier.”

“You were hard then as well!”

“I will be hard whenever necessary,” he said firmly, then suddenly gripping her hair he yanked it back and gazed his aqua eyes into hers. “And whenever I want to kiss you, I will do that too.”

His warrior’s mouth pressed on hers, then moved slowly, gently kissing, then artfully he slipped both his lips over her lower one and began to suck. His clutching hand prevented any movement, and when his other hand began to fondle her breasts she let out a cry of surprise, then a moan of need, then slowly releasing her lips he brought his mouth to her ear.

“That is one way I will kiss you, and I will do so whenever I choose. Just as I will caress these beautiful breasts when I choose, or touch your womanliness on the outside of her underwear when I choose, and the inside too, when we reach my house. I will rub your nugget when I choose, I will suckle your nipples when I choose, and pinch them,” he said, quickly tweaking her nipples with the tips of his fingers.

“Ouch..ooh…but it feels so good,” she moaned, “you are making me weak.”

“I know, and as I teach you the ways of your body you will grow much weaker, and that is how you must be. That is where your happiness lies, and also your strength.”

His hand was roaming over her stomach, moving lower, and she separated her legs, urgently pulling up the folds of fabric.

“Please, Sir, please rub me again as you did last night?”

“You call me Sir because you feel my authority when I have your hair clutched as I do, you call me Sir because you feel the power of my hand roaming across your body and you know it will possess you. Isn’t that right, Lizbett?”

“Yes, Sir,” she groaned. “Please, please touch me there again.”

“You ask so sweetly and so I will, but only for a moment,” he said softly, and moving his hand between her legs he whispered his fingers across the damp, thin gusset of her underwear.

“Ooh, more, please, more.”

“No, no more,” he replied pushing her hands from her dress so it would fall back around her legs. “Perhaps when we stop for our rest I will rub you and bring on that tingling moment, but only if you’re a very good girl.”

“But, Sir, I need it now, I really do. I feel hungry down there.”

“You must remain hungry,” he said firmly. “It is a good way for you to be.”

“But why?” she bleated.

“It is all part of your learning,” he said tenderly. “Now pay attention. In a moment I am going to release your hair, and you are going to do something for me.”

“Anything you ask, Sir, anything.”

“You saw my manliness when you crept into my bed, didn’t you?”

A hot flush moved across her face, but she couldn’t drop her head because her hair was coiled around his fingers and he was holding her tightly, so she lowered her eyelids.

“No, look at me,” he ordered giving her hair a tug.

“Oh, Sir, I’m…I’m…”

“Embarrassed? You needn’t be embarrassed. Tell me, what did you think?”

“I…uh…didn’t know what to think, not at first,” she stammered.

“And then?”

“And then I thought it looked soft, and kind of…sorry to say this, but…uh…weak.”

“At that time it was, but now, now it is hard and strong, and when I release your hair you are to place your hand there.”

“Sir?” she gasped.

“You will feel it through my clothes, then you will unfasten the patch that lays across the front of my trousers and you will pull it out.”

“Oh, Sir, I’m not sure I can,” she protested staring up at him.

“Of course you can, it won’t bite,” he smiled.

“I don’t know why I feel so strange about it.”

“You will do as I ask, or must I spank you again?”

“No, please, my bottom is so sore.”