The Sister and the Sinner Page 8

  The problem with that approach was that he hadn't yet asked her to marry him, but he wisely didn't mention that to his father.

  * * *

  Katie was standing in the hallway, which was cavernous in and of itself, until he came up beside her and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. "Let me show you to your room. It's right next to mine. I think you'll like it."

  She adored it, and told him so. It was done in pinks and whites and golds, and was probably bigger than both floors of the convent put together. The bed itself was enormous, and she couldn't resist jumping on it, as she had liked to do when she was a little girl, at least until she got caught doing so.

  J.D. just stood there watching her with a big smile on his face, then helped her down. "No more of that. We don't want to put the baby in any kind of danger."

  He stood her in front of him and began to undress her. "So. When do you want to get married?" He'd decided that, with a girl like Katie, it might be better to simply assume that she was going to do as he wanted rather than just ask her, because she might decide she didn't want to. "We'd better make it soon - there's no telling when you will begin to show."

  He had no idea when she might start to show, really - not having much experience with that side of females, thankfully, but the sooner they got married, the better, as far as he and his father were concerned. It wouldn't be a huge society thing; he wouldn't put his Katie through that. They would make it a small, intimate ceremony.

  Katie surprised him by not putting up much of a fuss about it. She was much more distressed that as soon as he had her undressed, he reminded her of the spanking she had coming.

  "I do not," she insisted, dashing around the bed to put its great expanse between them.

  "You lied to me about being a nun. Do you know that I almost didn't return for you? We would have both gone to our graves, lonely, old, and unfulfilled because of it? Do you know what you put me through!"

  "About as much as you put me through," she insisted saucily.

  He made a mad dash right across the mattress, snatching her by the wrists and pulling her onto the bed with him. "Katie Marie!" he scolded, trapping her. She wiggled, struggling to break free, but the motion made her breasts dance before his eyes. He rolled, pinning her beneath him, as he took one breast into his mouth and suckled.

  She cooed delightfully, then arched her back - the little vixen - and taunted him with the other breast.

  "If you think you can get out of a spanking that way, go ahead and try," he threatened.

  She tried. It was wonderful. Together they had wonderful sex, as they did whenever they came together. Gone was the fear of hurting her, of damning her soul for breaking a sacred vow. Gone was her fear that he would leave her, that she would lose her outlaw. Now, when they came together, there was only joy and perfect union between them. And when they lay, sated and satisfied, J.D. returned to the topic of her spanking.

  "No! You are not going to continue to spank me," she insisted, shaking her fist in his face.

  "Let's get one thing straight, darling. You are going to marry me. I am going to be your husband, and a father to our child. And I've been reading the Bible lately, a habit I picked up from Mother Agnes. Do you know what the Good Book says about husbands and wives?"

  She glanced away, shaking her head, but the flush that colored her cheeks said otherwise.

  "It's in the book of Peter somewhere. 'Wives, be submissive to your husbands...'."

  Katie wilted, her lower lip extending in a pretty pout. "Does it really say that?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Okay," she said, heaving a sigh.

  "Okay what?"

  "Okay, sir."

  "Good girl." J.D. patted her bottom and he would have sworn that it rose to his touch, although he knew she would have denied it if he'd pointed it out to her. "You had better get used to this, Katie, because this is what your life is going to be like from now on. I will be keeping you strictly in check, baby or no baby. You are going to be over my knee more often than not, I'm sure. Or over the back of a chair, or the edge of the bed, or my desk, or wherever we find ourselves at the moment - "

  Katie couldn't imagine most of what he was talking about, but especially the last of it. "Wherever we find ourselves? You mean out in public?"

  He swatted her upturned fanny quite firmly at her rebellious tone. "If you misbehave in public, you're going to be punished in public."

  "You're bluffing."

  J.D. turned her head so that he could give her long, luxurious kiss. "Do you really think you want to test that theory, Katie dear?"

  She didn't. She really, really, really didn't.

  "Do you know how wonderful we are together? How happy I am to have you back in my life? Do you know how close we came to losing it all, because of a lie?"

  She nodded.

  "You know that lying is a sin."

  She nodded, apprehension clouding her pretty features.

  "All right, then. Let's get this over with." J.D. moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and helped her to lie across his lap. He allowed her head to rest on the mattress, her legs dangled above the floor for the bed was that high. Then he took her hairbrush firmly in hand, and delivered a series of stinging swats to her tender flesh.

  She wiggled and writhed and tried to get away, but her struggles were nothing compared to his greater strength. He continued with the hairbrush, quickly bringing her bottom to a bright pink, and then cherry red.

  "Obedience," J.D. reminded her. "I know it is hard for you, but I'm going to help you master it. Do you trust me?"

  "J.D.! Stop! Please!"

  "No, darling. We're just getting started." And he wasn't kidding. Then he rifled around his pockets for his favorite implement. It was compact, and relatively quiet, but fairly lethal. It was a shortish, thin length of leather - so that it didn't wrap and hit areas that he had no intention of chastising - and braided so that it was somewhat stiff and forked at one end. It was modeled after a Scottish tawse. He liked it because he could take it anywhere with him, and no one really knew its exact purpose, except him and the person he used it on.

  The first stroke tore a surprised scream from Katie's throat. She had never in her life felt such a streak of fire across her bottom. She wondered if he had a hot poker he was using back there, although she knew she hadn't gone anywhere near the fireplace. The second stroke crossed the first and had her positively yowling, arching up and screaming his name.

  But that didn't stop him.

  He set every inch of her backside ablaze within twenty strokes, and then proceeded to do it again before he finally tucked the terrible implement back into his pants pocket, with a warning to her before he did so. "Remember. I carry this with me wherever I go, and I'm not in the least afraid to use it - in public."

  "Yes, Sir," Katie mewled, her bottom throbbing horribly from the effects of his little instrument. She couldn't believe how small it was, and what a wallop it packed!

  J.D. got up and quickly removed his clothing, then rejoined her on the bed, tugging her up against him tightly, stroking her back and hugging her, as he gladly comforted her.

  "There now, darling. You are forgiven. And now, we can begin our incredible life together. Do you know how lucky we are, that we found each other?"

  She nodded, still sniffling, but beginning to cuddle up close to him in preparation for a repeat of the love-making they had just recently enjoyed.

  "You are incredibly beautiful, you know that?"

  She blushed, and he loved it. He wondered how long she would continue to do so when he said that. Would she still blush many years from now, when they were both old and gray?

  Before she had even recovered from the spanking, before he checked to see if she was ready, before he'd even kissed her, he pulled her over him and put the tip of himself against her opening.

  Katie sat straight upright, as if struck by a bolt of lightning. J.D. had suspected as much, but his suspicions were confirmed when the he
ad of his cock was christened by her juices. The punishment - despite its severity, and it was relatively severe, especially for someone who was pretty new to it - had gotten her at least as hot as it had him.

  Slowly but firmly, he pressed her down onto him, not allowing her to withdraw, keeping her always traveling downwards on his scimitar spike, wallowing in every caught breath, every moan, every shaking spasm as she settled around him. He nearly embarrassed himself right then, and had to pull her forward and hug her tight, holding her very still until the moment passed and he didn't spill his seed into her before things had even started.

  "Put your hands behind your back, Katie, my love, sit straight up, and extend your legs."

  It was hard, but she did as she was told immediately. Her bottom was burning too badly to even consider the alternative. The change in position drove him that much more deeply up inside her, made her spread her legs to accommodate him just that much further, had her panting just that much faster.

  And then he began to roll his hips.

  Slowly.

  Damnably slowly.

  And he refused to be hurried.

  With her legs extended rather than folded, she had no leverage to move herself up and down on him. He had all the power, all of the control, which, of course, was exactly as he wanted it. Katie sat directly on his cock; it was about as deeply buried as it could get within her, and her seared bottom lay atop his thighs as he drilled himself into her.

  "Give me your arms," J.D. ordered.

  Katie unlaced her fingers from behind her back and J.D. claimed her biceps, just above her elbows, tugging down on her arms, not allowing her to bounce much as he slammed up into her, and that was what did it for her. He had stretched her almost to the limit, filled her again and again, forced her to take every bit of him, and that last stroke, with him holding her arms like that had her shaking and arching, clenching him tightly as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.

  J.D.'s pleasure followed hers; it was impossible not to find his own release when his woman exploded so completely in her own. When they had both come down a bit, he stood up beside the bed and reached down to lift her up in his arms, going to a door that she hadn't noticed in the room which seemed to lead to another bedroom suite that was even more luxurious than the one he had given her.

  Entering through the adjoining door, Katie saw that this room was done in cream, silver and gold. She correctly surmised that it belonged to J.D. His bed was, amazingly, even larger than hers. She swore it had to be the size of the entire dining room at the convent, and he set her down on it as if she was made of finest gold.

  "What about a nightgown?" she asked primly.

  "No nightgown," he replied.

  "What if I get cold?"

  "Then I'll have a servant stoke the fire."

  "But I'll be naked in here when they come in!"

  J.D. chuckled at the horror in her voice. "You'll be under the covers, well hidden from any prying eyes. Besides, they're not going to look, believe me."

  This time he made love to her slowly, very much as he had that time on the banks of the river that morning before he had abandoned her, leaving her aglow as she fell asleep in his arms.

  * * *

  Eventually, J.D. - with his father's help - was able to convince Katie that she needed to let them buy her a new wardrobe. They arranged a trip to New York, where she met with the best dressmaker in town. She was gifted with three complete wardrobes - one for wearing right now, one when she started to show, and a final wardrobe of darling little smocks for when nothing else would fit. They claimed they hadn't gone overboard, but Katie didn't believe a word of it.

  J.D. was there the entire time with her. He suspected that everyone there thought that she was his mistress, for very few men spent that kind of money on their wives - or even women who were going to become their wives - but what did he care?

  The poor woman who ran the shop had about had an attack of the vapors at what the mademoiselle had been wearing when she entered the shop. She had gone out and looked on the street to see if anyone had seen her come in, and J.D. had paid her extra to give them a very nice outfit in which they could leave instead of the one in which they had arrived.

  Katie was so overwhelmed by the entire experience, that J.D. took charge, approving or vetoing everything the dressmaker presented. He insisted the dressmaker stay away from the heavy brocades that might just swallow Katie whole, and go instead with the lighter silks and chiffons. No loud colors for his darling Katie, but softer pastels, and an emerald green gown that was the perfect complement to her red-gold curls.

  J.D. paid the couturier half of the amount owed, promising double the amount due if she had it ready in three days time. J.D. was eager to return to Boston, where his father had his headquarters. The woman practically licked her lips at the profit she would make, and J.D. knew that no one in the shop would be getting any time off for the next three days, but his Katie would have her wardrobe - or most of it, anyway. After the babe was born, he would take her to Paris to complete it.

  He adored spoiling her, because she had absolutely no expectation of any of it. Everything he showed her was new and unique - restaurants, waiters, carriage rides, everything. She had been so cloistered that he just loved watching her reactions as he gave her the world. They took a romantic carriage ride around the city, then ended up back at their hotel.

  On their last day in the city, he brought her to a jewelry store. Katie said she loved the name of it as they walked in. "Tiffany. It sounds like it should be made of cotton candy or something."

  There she was shown a selection of diamond rings that he was quite certain she had absolutely no idea as to the value of, but then that was his intent. He just wanted her to pick out something she liked and not to worry about what it might cost, since that was of no concern to him whatsoever.

  She settled on something that was understated but wonderfully elegant, a three carat solitaire, with emeralds forming a crown around it. Mr. Tiffany himself proclaimed it a perfect choice.

  It happened to be the perfect size, and J.D. couldn't help himself. He wanted to brand her as his before some other schlub happened upon her, so he slipped it onto her finger before she could say no.

  Katie couldn't believe it. She could barely lift her hand for the weight of the ring, and when they got back to the room, the rest of her wardrobe was waiting for her from Madame Renaud, and she gave her husband-to-be an impromptu fashion show. She had never even dreamed of having a life like this. She would have managed, had she been forced to take a teaching position, or become a governess or nanny after Mother Agnes passed. Instead, she was here, all the way across the country, flitting between New York and Boston, wearing the latest fashions, flashing an enormous new engagement ring that was worth more than everything she'd ever owned in her life and then some, getting married shortly and in a handful of months, to discover the joy of motherhood.

  She couldn't believe it.

  But she didn't want to just forget about the people who were still trying to carve a life out of the wilderness in Dakota Territory.

  "J.D.?"

  "Yes?" He focused his attention on her, because it seemed like she was going to ask for something, and she almost never did that.

  "There's something I'd like to do."

  "And what would that be, my love?" he asked, taking her left hand in his and kissing her ring. "If it's within my power, we will do it."

  "I never did thank you for sending me all of those things after you left. It helped me a lot. I want to continue to support the convent, if that's okay."

  A huge smile broke over his face. "I think that's a wonderful idea. I think we should support the convent in particular, but also the diocese, too. How about that?"

  Katie hugged him tight, and he thought it was probably the first time she'd hugged him impulsively like that. "Thank you. That would be wonderful!"

  "I'll call my accountant in the morning and get that set up. Do you have a pa
rticular amount in mind that you'd like to send them every month?"

  She bit her lip. "No."

  "Don't worry. I'll have him figure that out. That's why we pay him."

  "Thank you."

  "Now. Is there a glass of milk over there that someone was supposed to drink because it's good for the baby?"

  Katie sighed. "I don't think your baby likes milk. I think he'd rather I drank Irish whiskey."

  "Katie!" J.D. couldn't believe she would say that, or even consider doing something as irresponsible as that.

  She giggled, pointing her finger at him. "Got you!"

  He managed an indulgent smile, although he wasn't particularly amused. "Drink your milk, dear one. Don't you remember what you are supposed to do when I tell you to do something?"

  "Do it," she grumbled.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Do it," she repeated, although it came out very milky, since she had turned away from him and was finishing her glass.

  When she turned back, though, he had that look in his eye. "Don't think that's going to get you out of a punishment."

  "But I drank my milk!"

  "Not until you were reminded to do so. Now, do I have to get the strap out of my pocket?"

  "NO! You don't!"

  He had begun to teach her that when he deemed a punishment was necessary, she was to remove all of her clothing and take her place over his lap without having to be prompted or assisted by him in any way. Of course, as the baby grew and her waistline vanished, rules like that could be adjusted, but for now, they remained in place.

  So she was already standing next to the bed, stepping out of her stockings and underwear, her chemise and corset, and pulling the pins out of her hair, which he was happy to find was growing out very nicely.

  In short order, she was lying naked over his lap, her hands clasped at the small of her back, face turned towards him, legs crossed, where she belonged.

  Now came the hard part. She was required to say, "I'm ready for my punishment, Sir." But that was very hard to say, because she knew that the first stroke would land immediately after she said it. So there was absolutely no impetus to let those words tumble out of her mouth.