Ghislaine lay there, halfway on her back, as Gaetan knelt over her. She was panting heavily, having had the wind knocked out of her. But unfortunately for Gaetan, the wheels of her mind were still spinning. This fight wasn’t over by a long shot. Realizing that Gaetan was straddling her, she brought up a knee and managed to catch him in the groin.
It wasn’t a hard blow but it was enough to cause him some pain. She’d put a boney knee right into his manhood and he grunted in both surprise and pain, furiously grabbing her as she tried to use his momentary shock to crawl away. He had a leg, yanking her back to him even as she tried to claw her way from beneath him. But pulling her along the ground had lifted her tunic, exposing her legs and buttocks that were encased in the leather breeches. Her buttocks drew his attention; bringing down a trencher-sized hand, he spanked her hard.
Ghislaine howled in pain as he spanked her at least three times, harder than she’d ever been spanked in her life, but his swat had the desired effect – she stopped trying to escape him. She lay there and kicked her legs angrily, effectively trapped beneath him.
“You deserve all that and more,” Gaetan hissed, his groin still throbbing from her knee. He spanked her again, a sharp slap echoing off the walls of the tent. “And that is for trying to damage my legacy.”
Ghislaine had stopped trying to escape him because she knew she couldn’t win; he had her tightly, now with her buttocks exposed to his big hand. “You beast,” she breathed. “You Norman barbarian! I am not surprised you take pleasure in hitting a woman!”
Gaetan had a temper; his men knew it and soldiers who had served with him knew it. He was quick to temper when seriously displeased and, in this instance, he was more than seriously displeased. The little Saxon wench had tried to injure him and she was going to pay the price.
“We Norman barbarians only strike animals, of which you are most definitely one,” he said, his grip tightening on her when she twisted angrily. One hand had her pinned while the other reached down to yank on her breeches, pulling so hard that the ties either broke or pulled loose, sliding them down to expose her naked arse. “And disobedient little mice must be punished.”
With that, he slapped her nude flesh with his palm again, leaving a perfect hand print across both already-reddened buttocks. Ghislaine screamed as if he were killing her.
“You are… evil!” she cried. “How do you dare do such a thing? Let me go!”
Gaetan wasn’t about to let her go. She had a few more spankings coming as far as he was concerned. Any woman who would try to shove her knee into his manhood would get nothing less. But when he lifted his hand to slap her buttocks again, a strange thing happened; he hasn’t really looked at her arse before but now that he got a good look at it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to slap it again.
He’d never seen anything so perfect.
White, heart-shaped, and smooth, her buttocks were exquisite. Mouth-watering, even. It was utterly strange that as he sat there and stared at them, he could actually feel his aching member becoming aroused. More than aroused, in fact – hungry. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman, since his first bedslave had not accompanied him from Brittany. He was, in fact, a man with an insatiable sexual appetite and he had more than one bedslave, but only one that he bedded with regularity. He called her Prima.
Now, gazing down at Ghislaine of Mercia’s perfect naked buttocks, he could imagine sliding his aroused member between those perfect cheeks and finding great satisfaction in the warm folds. Perhaps he’d found a Saxon bedslave now that he was in their country. If that was his intention, then perhaps he shouldn’t beat her so hard.
He didn’t want damaged goods.
“You deserve nothing less than a good beating,” he said, but his spanking hand had ceased. Shifting his body weight, he yanked her over onto her back again so that he could see her face. But the moment he looked at her, he could see the tears on her face. He peered at her curiously.
“Why do you weep?” he demanded. “If you are going to fight like a man, then you must take your punishment like a man. And those who are defeated do not usually weep unless they are idiots who have no business fighting in the first place.”
Ghislaine was trying very hard not to burst into tears; she was hungry, exhausted, and now with the added pressure of being embarrassed on top of it. He was dealing her a ration of insults, which she more than likely deserved at this point for trying to knee him in the groin. It was a struggle to keep her composure.
“You have no right to keep me a captive,” she said hoarsely. “I have only tried to help you find your knight and, for that, you hold me captive and beat me. I should have never come to you, Norman. I should have kept my mercy to myself.”
Gaetan looked down into that sad little face. He couldn’t agree with her because had she not come to him, he would still be wondering what had happened to Kristoph. So, in that sense, he owed her a great deal. It was enough to soften him, just the slightest, but not too much. She was still the enemy as far as he was concerned.
“You came to me to betray your brother,” he pointed out. “I wonder if there were really ever any altruistic intentions on your part.”
She scowled. “I told you that I showed your knight mercy because you had shown it to me upon the field of battle. But now I wish I had not!”
He nodded faintly. In truth, he didn’t want to start a big battle with her again, but she had to know who was in control. He could tell that she was used to being in command and not being contested. That being the case, this was going to be a harsh lesson for her because he intended to dominate her any way he could.
She would not get the better of him.