Page 92 of Shared By the Vikings

She bit on her bottom lip. There was no point arguing or pleading with him. This punishment was coming her way. It had been planned by the gods, and Raud was the one delivering it.

“Hurry up, Princess, it is this tide we wish to catch, not morrow’s.”

“Ja.” She pushed at her pants, exposing her bare buttocks to him. The cooler air of the shed washed over her skin.

He pulled in a breath and stepped close. She was aware of the heat of his big palm a moment before he set it gently on her ass.

“You’re so pale, and perfect,” he whispered, smoothing over first her right, then her left buttock.

She stared straight ahead, concentrating on a nail that had escaped Raud’s sweep and lay with a pile of sawdust on the table.

“A princess’s ass,” he said quietly. “For so long I have wanted you. Every part of you.”

“Raud,” she managed, her pulse thudding in her ears. “Please, just do it.” The anticipation was killing her. She wanted the spanking over and done with so the slate could be clean again with him, with her men.

“And now,” he said, cupping her right buttock and squeezing. “You are to be my wife and I am to be one of your husbands.”

“Ja.”

“And you will do better to protect yourself to protect our hearts.”

“I will.” She wriggled, moving her hips from left to right.

Why won’t he just get on with it?

“No. Keep still.” He released her ass and gripped her pants. In one fast move he yanked them down, then off, pulling them clear over her boots.

She struggled to maintain her balance, and when she tipped to the left he placed his hand between her shoulders and shoved her forward, so her chest hit the table and her bare ass was presented upward.

She gasped and writhed. Tried to stand.

“In the name of the gods, keep still, Ingrid.” He increased the pressure, pinning her down.

“Ja, sorry.” She stilled and clenched her fists, imagining what she must look like to him. Many occasions she’d dreamed of wearing a fine white gown, so sheer Raud would be able to see through it should she stand before a fire or the moonlight. That was how she’d hoped he’d see her naked form the first time—elegant, seductive, irresistible.

Not like this. Not in a boatshed, over an old table, her ass exposed and vulnerable and waiting for his hand.

Except it wasn’t his hand. She could see now that he held a short plank of wood. Smooth and polished, it was oblong with a handle, perhaps a small oar, or a serving board, she wasn’t sure.

“This will redden you nicely,” he said, when he caught her looking.

“No, I think... no, it will hurt.”

“As it is supposed to, so you learn your lesson.”

He was still pinning her down; she could try to fight him off, but what was the point? He was going to do this. It had to be done.

The paddle thwacked on her butt. It covered both cheeks and the harsh sound of wood on flesh screeched around the shed.

She cried out, the pain intense and the burn instant. When she went up on to her toes, he held her all the tighter and delivered another blow.

“Ouch!” she yelped and clenched her buttocks. “No more.”

“We have barely started, Princess.” He knocked her feet with his boot, spreading her legs.

The action made her feel even more open to him. She was sure he’d be able to see her pussy lips.

“I have no problem with you crying out,” he said. “It will prove to the others that I am capable of disciplining you.”

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