Rebellious Bride by Lizbeth Dusseau Read Free Book Online Page B

selfish, and I don’t
think of you, and that really is the prob-lem , don’t
you think?”
    “Perhaps
so,” Aaron agreed. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses about
it,” he added.
    Sidling up to
him, she smiled again sin- cerely and gazed into his
eyes with a longing look. For an instant, she thought she had her husband
captured by her charm - he even reached out and fondled her hair, the back of
his hand caressing her cheek. But then he backed away.
    If only there
had been another thunder-storm, it might have saved her. But there was none.
    “Sometimes,
Abigail, you make it diffi -cult for me to see things
clearly, but,” he cleared his throat, “I still see this incident very
plainly.” He shook his head. “No sweet flirtation is going to alter
my decision. You can go in that stall,” he said pointing to one nearby.
“Remove your dress, I’d like you in your chemise and drawers, nothing
else.”
    “But
Aaron,” she protested.
    “What
happened in your father’s house was rash and brief, for your father’s benefit -
to show him who will be taking care of your disci pline , and for mine - to allay some of my anger. What you
did not get last night was the thorough punishment your behavior deserves,
something much more exacting. Now go.”
    Her eyes
already brimming with tears, Abigail scooted across the barn and into the empty
stall. Unbuttoning her dress, she was reminded of times with her father when
she was disciplined with such ritual. Wearing nothing but a simple shift, her
father found the task much easier without the worry of her bulky clothes to
impair his work. She could figure that Aaron felt the same way. It had been a
long time since she’d gone through this kind of disrobing to pre-pare herself
for a strapping, her father giving up the practice by the time she was
thirteen. Now a grown woman, doing it for her husband, she had so many savage
feelings rushing through her, she couldn’t decide how to feel, except scared.
    Removing her
dress, she folded it care-fully and laid it over the top of the stall. Her
heart was racing fast, her mind spinning wildly, thinking of Aaron’s slow
burning anger and how his sternness did such incredible things to her - even if
she hated that.
    When Aaron
finally appeared some min- utes later, he stood at the
stall door for several seconds just staring at her. Where his eyes had flashed
so hotly over the last day, they were sub- dued now,
even a little cold. Witnessing the long black strap hanging from his hand at
his side, Abigail shivered all the more. This scene bore no resemblance to the
sessions she’d had with her father - and for that matter, they weren’t
any-thing like the brief and turbulent sessions she’d already had with Aaron
the day before. She could see instantly that he was prepared to make her pay
for the reckless folly of her journey in a way she would not easily forget.
    “Remove
your drawers,” he said.
    “Those
too?” she queried meekly.
    “I’d suggest
you’d comply without balk- ing ,” he said. There
was not one ounce of com-passion in his steely voice.
    Turning
around, as if she had to be mod- est with him, Abigail
lifted the waistband of her drawers and pushed them down to her knees. Wobbling
a little on one foot, she lifted the other and drew the garment off her leg.
Repeating the process with the other leg, she stripped herself of her drawers,
left naked from the waist down, her quivering bottom giving away the terror
that raced anxiously through her aroused body.
    “I
suspect that if you grab the rail in front of you, that will do,” Aaron
said, pointing to the side of the stall, while she looked over her shoulder at
him. “And stand away from it, I’d rather just hit your bottom.”
    Bending over
as Aaron suggested, Abigail’s bottom was presented for her hus -band’s
view, the two white cheeks clenching and releasing uncontrollably as she waited
for the strap to strike. Strange, all the punishment she’d had