Page 68 of Claimed by the Clan Chief

The first strike landed, searing over her ass. She jerked forward and her back arched.

Much as she wanted to cry out, Isla didn’t. She held the sound in her chest.

He delivered another stripe, a fraction below the first.

Again she jerked forward.

“Keep still.” He placed his free hand in the small of her back. “Keep still and really feel your punishment, Isla.”

“Aye… sir.” She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the heat of the flames on her skin mixing with the sting of the cane.

He continued to smack the cane against her buttocks. Each time it connected a new layer of heat built up. Her pussy was weeping, her back and shoulders ached with tension, and she was up on her toes.

Eventually he’d delivered twenty canings and he tossed the implement aside.

“You understand why that had to be done?” he asked, stroking her hair and bending so his face was beside hers.

“Aye.” She sniffed. “Aye, I do.”

“I have to keep you and our child safe, and you’ve always known that means me keeping control of your spells and rituals, and your potions. We agreed to that, did we not?”

“Aye, we did.”

“I understand what you can and can’t get away with.” He pressed his lips to hers. “Getting tied to a stake once was enough, eh?”

“It was, and I’m grateful to you, for you keeping me safe and under control.”

He smiled. “I can’t risk losing you, Isla. My heart beats for you.”

“And mine for you.”

He kissed her again, softly, gently, then stood and ran his hand down her back. “Relax now, the worst is over, now it is only pleasure.”

He stood behind her and she rested her cheek on the bench. She belonged to him, her mind, body, and soul. And right now she just wanted him to do as he pleased with her hungry, desperately turned-on body.

He was between her legs and she hoped he’d got his cock out again. She was sure he’d be hard. Punishing her always did that to her husband.

“You’re wet,” he said, slipping two or maybe three fingers into her pussy.

She groaned and closed her eyes.

“So wet for me.”

“Aye.”

He pumped his fingers in and out, the way he would his cock.

Isla pushed back and forward in time with him and rubbed her clit on the bench. Aye, that was what she needed. It would help her forget about the burn on her ass.

With his free hand he gripped her right buttock.

Heated sting shot over her flesh. “Oh.”

“You’re on fire,” he said, speeding up the pulsing of his fingers into her.

“McTavish, I’m…” She didn’t try to hide the fact she was stimulating herself on the bench. Pleasure was building fast.

“You wee minx,” he said. “I can see what you’re doing.” He pulled out of her and grabbed both of her buttocks, his fingers damp on her skin. “Stop.”

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