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Extended Extract:
He straightened and taking a deep breath, his voice became serious. “Look, Claire, I’m not proud of it, but you need to know. I’m naturally jealous, unreasonably so. It’s something I’ve always struggled with. The last thing I need is any encouragement from you.”
Claire dropped her head and said nothing. He tipped up her chin and she met his eyes. “No more games. Agreed?” She nodded and he sat back seemingly satisfied with her silent remorse.
He took a sip of his coffee and then his voice dropped to a low, gentle tone. “I wasn’t manipulating you, Claire. I did it to prove to you that I’m as capable of arousing your passion as much as any other man, including Blake. It was the primal instinct in me, I’m afraid. You’re my wife. Mine. I was convinced that if I conquered you sexually, you’d respond to that and Blake would lose his power over you.” The coffee in his mug appeared to hold a fascination for him once more. "If it's any consolation, it backfired. Not so much at the time, but the next day when it dawned on me that your response was due to more than my sexual prowess." There was a note of self-mockery in these last words, but his next words were spoken huskily. "It made me aware of the depth of your feelings."
Claire drew in her breath. So that was what started him running. That and the kiss the next morning, coupled with the overheard conversation at the party. Richard was just an excuse to withdraw. An excuse to himself more than to her. Sensing a slight tension in the air, she abandoned the subject. The admission was probably as far as he was prepared to go at present, and she’d no desire to upset the gentle truce that was growing between them. However, she did want to settle the subject of Richard. "Julian, since then Richard has left me cold. I really feel nothing for him except perhaps repugnance. When he tried to force himself on me last night..."
"What!"
She jumped as his mug was slammed down. She didn't waste any time observing that now she’d really seen him blazing mad, she was only grateful that the murder in his eyes was not directed at her. As he sprang up, his words supported the look. "I'll kill him!"
Claire blanched. This was no figure of speech. At this precise moment, he really meant it. Thank goodness he’d no idea where Richard lived. By the morning his fury should have abated. A lot sooner than that, if she’d anything to do with it. Right now, he was still in the grip of it. Striding over to the kitchen phone, he searched through the contacts menu. When it didn't provide what he was looking for, he searched again. Successful this time, he punched in the code.
Concerned, Claire stood up. "Who are you calling?"
"Mary-Jane, she'll tell me his address. I didn't think there was much point in asking you."
"Julian, he could charge you with assault."
"He won't be able to do anything ever again when I'm through with him."
"Oh great, I've always wanted to be a jail-widow."
Thankfully, he was receiving no answer. Hanging up the phone, he glared at it as if he wished it were human so he could injure it. Then he began searching through the menu again. She watched as he made two more futile phone calls and then he leaned back against the counter. His hands resting on the edge, he glowered at her.
Placing her hands on her hips, she challenged him. "What are you going to do now? Beat it out of me?"
"Don't tempt me! You've got it coming! You should’ve told me last night, as soon as I got home!"
He pushed away from the counter and advanced towards her. Claire didn't back off. His fury was fading fast. She could see his concern and tenderness for her crowding it out. Reaching her, he drew her close. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No. Julian, please don't feel you have to defend my virtue." Looking up at him with an earnest expression she continued. "I defended myself quite ably. He didn't get very far. He was the one who got hurt, not me."
"Good for you!"
His tone was full of savage satisfaction that alarmed Claire. She pulled away from him. "You will drop it, won't you? I do have to work with him."
The look that crossed his face left her in no doubt as to what he thought of that particular fact, but he shrugged and said resignedly. "Alright, if that's the way you want it." He gave her a fixed stare. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Determined to reassure him she nodded. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“Right, well in that case.”
Claire squealed in surprise when in a few swift moves, he righted the chair that had fallen over when he sprang up in anger, sat on it, and pulled her down across his knee.
Instinctively, she tried to rise. When his arm firm across her waist put paid to that, she flung her hands back to protect her bottom. It had been weeks since he’d spanked her and she reverted to her natural mode to protect her backside rather than adopt the disciplinary one that he was still cultivating in her. “No, Julian. Don’t, please.”
“Don’t? Seriously, Claire?” He shifted, settling her even more securely across his knee. “Let’s get this straight. You deliberately encouraged me to believe there was still something between you and your ex-lover. And instead of telling me immediately about what he tried to do last night, you let me storm off under the misconception that an attempted sexual assault was a lover's tryst. So? Seriously? Don’t?”
Claire relaxed and wriggled a little provocatively across his knee in the pajamas she'd donned for comfort when she arrived home from work. Here she was across her husband’s knee, in her pajamas, seemingly about to be disciplined. Now she was over her instinctive reaction, the implications of this were flowing breathlessly through her. If he was intending to punish her that meant maybe he was done withdrawing. Maybe this would clear the air. Bring them closer together as it had before.
Claire let out a long breath and pulled her hands away leaving his target clear. “I guess.”
“You guess what, Claire?”
His voice was stern in that strict, dominant tone he used on her at their first meeting and other times when he’d disciplined her. Claire’s heart flipped. She was coming to understand enough about domestic discipline to recognize that he was adopting a role to meet both their needs. She knew now what he meant when he’d told her at her office about performing his duty. It wasn’t the chore she associated with the word. No it was a profound sign of his love and affection for her. A love and affection she’d not had the pleasure of experiencing in well over two weeks.
He spoke again in the same strict tone. Well, young lady?”
Adopting her own role gratefully, even though it would mean a very sore behind, she told him in a suitably penitent tone. “I guess I deserve a spanking.”
“That you do,” he told her, bringing his hand down with a hard smack right in the middle of her buttocks.
“Yeow. Julian! No warm up?”
“Nope.” He agreed bringing his hand down again and again, hard and fast randomly over her pajama bottoms.
Claire squealed and howled, bucking frantically across his thighs. This was by far the hardest hand spanking he’d given her. It lasted a lot longer as well. After several smacks on her clothed bottom, he pulled down her pants and spanked her bare cheeks mercilessly for what seemed forever. She gave up her kicking and finally lay across his knee, limp and crying as he continued to spank her until she was a sobbing mess. Finally he righted her and sat her on his knee, curling her into his chest, rubbing her bottom and back until she calmed down.
“Don’t ever try to make me jealous again, Claire. I promise you won’t sit for a week if you do. Understood?”
