The Story of Odette by Anya Howard

Author:Anya Howard
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
Published: 2012-03-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-three

The familiar sound of spanked flesh brought Odette’s hand immediately to her bottom. Slowly, she grew aware it was not her buttocks that were receiving the punishment and listened with interest to the sharp clean blows that resounded from downstairs. The receiver was blubbering in apology, the giver silent, and several minutes passed before the spanking ended. Odette heard a masculine voice order the recipient to go out to the portico and await him.

Odette sat up and peered about. She was surprised to find herself alone. She glanced at the cage, its intimidating door left ajar, and at the possessions of her new Lord that lay on one of the tables. Her vagina ached dully, and when she pulled back the coverlet she saw a small stain of blood on the bedsheets and the insides of her thighs. She went to the table where sat the pitcher of water and poured some of it into the basin, taking a clean cloth from the stack to wash with. Her vulva lips were tender but the warm water eventually abated the pain. When she was clean again there remained the slightest prickling high within her vagina.

Uncertain what her Lord’s reaction would be to find her up, Odette returned to bed. She gazed at the drapes on the window as she nestled down on the pillow, but it was not the curtains she saw. Thoughts of her Lord possessed her. She blushed happily to recall his touch and the wondrous blend of pain and fear and pleasure he’d wrought in taking her maidenhood. She retraced the contours of his firm muscles, the headiness of his masculine scent, the smoldering glint of his dark eyes. Every word he had spoken was branded on her memory—all those endearing and tragic events of his life . . . and the sense of unworthiness of love that imbued what he had revealed. He did not realize he perceived himself this way, but the sense was there, a driving and dormant component of his character.

Yet it was not the most vital of his components. Cu’lugh was stalwart and loyal to his friends and family. Whatever loveless relationships he had pursued were none of Odette’s affair; still, she could see he was tired of shallow associations. His soul pressed him to venture to new horizons, and it was this affinity with his true self that Odette guessed had unconsciously goaded him to seek more than the fleeting adventures of the mercenary life and come to Athla. No matter what mistake it was he had alluded to that had brought him, the fact was some fate had led him down the path that had led him here. And even though he had no faith in the relic he’d donated to the temple he had been in possession of it.

Mistress Helrose was in tears as she told Odette that morning her Unveiling had been won by the very special donation. Odette’s breath was taken away by the news, but she listened, knowing it was right and meet, a thing sacred.

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