She wanted to say something but he seemed determined to keep silent. Well, that was fine.
* * *
They reached their room and Marcus unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stepped aside, allowing her to enter first. He watched her walk in, her body language one of complete resistance. She was mad about him not telling her where they were going, but her not knowing would keep her safe. Period. What if she was wrong and couldn't control what this creature could read and what he couldn't? He couldn't take the chance. Her life depended on it.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, folded her arms across her chest and looked straight ahead. Then seemed to change her mind because she picked up the remote and turned the TV on, flipping through channels.
Marcus shook his head, put the bags down and went into the bathroom to wash his hands and face. He looked at his reflection in the mirror knowing what he had to do, not knowing how she would take it.
He made up his mind and walked into their room. When he did, she switched off the TV before he had to. He watched her, glad he hadn't had to do it. She stood, fidgeted for a moment, then turned to him.
"I'm sorry. You are right, my not telling you was as good as lying, and I did it because I was mad. That's all. I understand you not wanting to tell me but I also … well I just don't like it."
Marcus went to her and took her hands, smiling a little. "I'm happy you said that. I only want to keep you safe, Rachel."
"I know," she said, letting him pull her into a hug.
Holding onto her, he sat down on the couch and pulled her along so she stood between his legs, her small hands in his. Looking up into her eyes, he unbuttoned the top button of her jeans. She looked back, a little nervous, growing more nervous as he unzipped them.
"I'm glad you understand," he began, wanting to establish this part of their relationship now, let her know what she could expect from him. "But I want to be sure that you also understand that there are consequences to actions," he said, never breaking the link between their eyes. The slight shift in her expression wasn't exactly confusion but something else. "I know Elijah spanked you," he said.
Her face flushed red and she dropped her gaze to the floor.
"Look at me." He touched her chin, making her meet his eyes.
"He told you?" she asked, so embarrassed she could only manage a whisper.
Marcus nodded. She dropped her gaze again, her face still bright red.
"I am sorry I haven't been here for you and that you needed my brother to … "
She pulled free and turned away. "Oh my God, can we just not talk about it?" she asked.
He stood and took hold of her shoulders, forcing her to face him. "He was stepping in for me when I should have been here. He was taking care of you for me."
She only looked at him.
"I want you to know that from now on, I will take care of you, I will be the one to discipline you when you need it and … "
"Pardon me?" she asked, stepping back and folding her arms across her chest once again.
Marcus didn't waver for a moment. This first spanking would be the hardest, he knew that, but they just had to move beyond it. "I'm going to spank you now for disobeying me earlier, Rachel. Take your jeans and panties down and come here," he said, sitting on the couch and turning on the TV. He could feel her watching him as he flipped through the channels and found a children's cartoon loud enough to mask the sound of the spanking, of the resistance he expected this first time. He then turned back to her and raised his eyebrows.
"You're not spanking me," she said. He could almost smell how nervous she was.
"I am. The part you have a say in is where you get to decide how easy or how hard this will go for you."
"Marcus, be reasonable," she began, taking a step back when he took one toward her. She glanced behind her, gauging the little bit of space she had left before she hit the wall, her proximity to the door. He thought of her trying to run for it, of catching her and forcing her over his knee. His cock grew hard at the idea.
* * *
Rachel looked at him and he looked back. The thought of him spanking her, she had to admit, was arousing. It was just the fact of it being him disciplining her that she couldn't wrap her brain around. She felt embarrassed at the thought of it. The image of her bent over his lap with her bottom bare … no, she had to get that one out of her head altogether.
"Rachel?" he began.
She didn't answer. She couldn't.
"Here are your choices: you can, in the next few moments, take down your jeans and panties, lay across my lap yourself, and take your punishment. That would be the wise choice. Or you can fight me, have me take down your jeans and panties, have me lay you across my lap, and then take your punishment, which would be more severe. Which do you choose?"
Every nerve in her body tingled, her stomach tensed, and her heart pounded while her clit throbbed as she stood there looking up at him, fully aware that in a few moments time, she was going to get a bare bottom spanking whether she liked it or not.
She glanced at his giant hands and knew instantly that she would not.
"Marcus?" she asked, her throat dry. Tears began to fall from her eyes and he moved in, hugging her to him.
"Shh," he said, rubbing her back. "Let's get this over with. You're a good girl, Rachel." He pulled her along, rubbing her back the entire time. This was so different than when Elijah had spanked her; this was Marcus, the man she loved, the man she hoped one day to have children with. The only man she could imagine herself with.
She didn't put up a fight when he sat down on the couch and set her between his knees, still holding her hands and looking at her. But when he reached for the waistband of her jeans, she grabbed his hands, trying to push them off.
"Let me go!" she called out.
He gripped her harder. "This is happening Rachel. Be still."
"No, it's not!" she said, trying to slap his hands away but failing as he tugged both her jeans and her panties down just a little ways. She tried pushing at his shoulders but he was too strong and she was unable to free herself from his grip. "No!" she yelled once more, desperate as he pulled her down across his lap.
"Let me go!" she called out, twisting and turning, trying to fight him, which was useless given his size and strength on top of her position. "I'm not ready!"
He pulled her closer, gripping her to him by her waist with a strength she knew he had but had never before felt.
"Shh, be still, Rachel. You'll never be ready for your first spanking. This is happening now."
"Why?" she called out as with his free hand, he tugged her jeans farther down to fully expose her bottom and thighs. "Please!" she said, kicking when he trapped her hands at her low back and swung one leg over the backs of hers, pinning her to him.
"Don't make this harder," he said. "Last chance."
"Screw you!" she yelled, using everything she had to twist away but failing.
One hard smack landed, forcing her to be still.
"Oh, God. Marcus!"
"Shh," he said, his hand on her bare bottom, rubbing a circle before it was gone and then back again with that same sound that echoed round the room. Now she knew why he had turned the TV on! Once the sound of his hand slapping her bottom faded away, the pain registered and she clenched her legs and bottom together and resumed her battle with him.
He slapped again, her right cheek this time and with this one, she exhaled a small cry. He struck again, alternating from one side to the next without any break for what seemed like an eternity, although as she unconsciously counted, she was up to thirty strokes before he paused and began rubbing circles all over her bottom. Her heart was racing and tears wet the cushion her face rested against.
"Are you ready to take your punishment now?" he asked, stilling his hand on her bottom.
"Isn't it over?" she asked, talking into the cushion, unable and unwilling to look back at him.
He chuckled. "No," he said. "If you're good and don't struggle, we'll do another thirty and it will be over. If not, I'll stop when we've hit sixty more."
"Sixty?" she asked, unable to fathom another thirty, much less sixty!
"Sixty," he repeated.
This was happening too fast. She couldn't process but she knew thirty was the much better option and somehow managed to relax her legs.
"Marcus?" she asked, just able to turn her face and meet his eyes.