Page 23 of Bound

Again, he looks blankly at me.

“What if her husband smacks her around? What if he cheats onher with the local floozy? What if he calls her names and is generallyunpleasant to be around?”

Beck nods, finally getting my point. “If this happened in aFae marriage, then the female would beat the male into submission. If she istoo small to beat him properly, one of the larger women of her family wouldperform the task for her.”

“And the man stands there for the beating?” Somehow I can’tsee it.

“If he has any honor at all,” Beck replies with a frown. “Ifhis abuse of the wife continues, the males of her family would take care ofhim. As I said before, the only way out of a Fae marriage is death, but thatcan be arranged.”

I can’t help but smile because he sounds so very serious. “Ikind of wish those rules had been in play when I got married.”

Beck turns me so I’m forced to look him in the eyes. Hislips are down in a scowl, and his eyes pin me. “They were in play whenyou got married. I assure you, our marriage was properly witnessed. I signedthe paperwork with the gnomes before we left.”

He’d done what? “Marriage?”

“Yes. What did you think I was doing with you? I told you Ineeded a bondmate. You’re my wife now, and there is no divorce.” He says theword as though he finds it distasteful.

“I thought you were buying me,” I stammer, trying to wrap myhead around the fact that I apparently got married and no one bothered to tellme. I look at Beck, a bit panicked at the thought. He’s my husband? “You know,like a slave.”

“You have strange words, wife. I don’t know what a slave is,but we’re married, and nothing is going to change that.” He takes a deepbreath. “If you are angry with me for what I did today, you have my permissionto hit me. It might make you feel better. I can only promise I won’t do itagain. I was overwhelmed by the battle.”

An alarming thought strikes me. I wonder if the wholebeating thing goes both ways. “So if I step out of line, you’ll hit me?”

Beck shakes his head. “I would never beat you, Meggie. It’sdifferent for a man. We’re bigger. We could hurt you. I know after what I didto you earlier you must think me a man of no honor, but I would never, neverbeat my woman. I might put you over my knee if I thought you were stepping outon me, but I would only use my hand.”

“You would spank me?” The words are supposed to come out asan outraged question. They’re supposed to show that I will never put up withsuch a thing. Instead, they come out as a breathless, curious query. Thethought of being put over his knee, completely naked and open, and having thatbig hand smack my ass is stimulating. Though I can’t help but think about theone time I asked Michael to spank me. I was curious and desperate to put somespark into our marriage. He rolled his eyes and called me a pervert. Beck wouldlikely think the same thing.

“If I had no other choice, I would spank you,” Beck saysgrimly.

I nod, trying not to think about how he would trace the lineof my spine while I’m across his knee, open and vulnerable to him. I turn backto the fire so he won’t see how my cheeks are flushed as I think about how Iwould wait, anticipating the blow, my pussy getting wet at the thought.

“You talked about marriage and the Fae rules being in playwhen you got married. What did you mean if you weren’t talking about ourmarriage?” There is suspicion in his voice, like he already knows the answer.

It’s an effective way to shut down the arousal I feel.Thinking of Michael Starke immediately makes me think of humiliation. Despitemy ex-husband’s assertion that I’m a pervert, humiliation isn’t my kink. “I wasmarried once. We got a divorce.”

“He allowed you to get away from him?”

I laugh, but it’s a bitter sound. “He packed my bags andshoved me to the street. He literally did that. He needed me out of theapartment before his new girlfriend showed up. She was a nurse. She made moremoney than I did, so she could take better care of him than I could.”

“What?” Beck is on his feet, his hand rubbing his head as hepaces. “He forced you to support him? What kind of a man was he?”

The truth is I’m tired of being pissed off about thedivorce. Somehow the events of the last twenty-four hours make my rage at amarriage gone bad seem a small thing. Beck’s whole life was destroyed. At leastMichael had the good sense to divorce me before we had kids. Our marriage was amistake, and it’s past time to move on. “He was a young man. We were reallyyoung when we got married. I was only twenty-two. I was twenty-five when wedivorced two years ago. We were stupid kids trying to be grownups. I wanted afamily. He wanted to play Xbox and drink beer. It’s a typical American story.”

Beck’s hair is long and flows around his shoulders and downhis back. He took it down after he got the fire going. It was an oddly eroticmoment. His eyes were on me, and I watched as he brushed it out. Now, it’s asilken blanket around his body.

It’s also a fire hazard. I hold out my hand. “It was a longtime ago, Beck, and in a galaxy far, far away. Please come back over here. Idon’t want to have to put out your hair when it catches on fire.”

He looks back and seems surprised that he hadn’t caught thathimself. He sits down. When I hold open the blanket for him, he moves close andwraps it around the both of us.

“Sorry, love,” he whispers. “I can’t imagine anyone lettingyou get away.”

“You must have a very small imagination,” I reply solemnly.

“I am not known for my creativity.” Beck frowns and staresat the fire.

He’s so serious. I can’t help but laugh. “I was teasing you.You take things too literally. Don’t give my ex another thought. I don’t intendto. He was an asshole.”

Dark eyebrows draw together. “You sound so much like Dante.Are you sure you’re not from the Vampire plane? They are entirely obsessed withanuses, too. I don’t understand it.”