Claimed by the Beast(23)

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.