Morven Park

Leesburg, Virginia, USA

Simon waited as Dicky Weems, which seemed like a silly name for a man in his late sixties, trotted out onto the polo field in his white breeches, black and white striped shirt, black boots, and helmet. He nodded to the players before tossing the ball into the mix to start the last chukker. Mallets crashed into each other, and stirrups clanged as the most aggressive players tried for the ball.

Once the ball shot from under the mass of horseflesh, riders struggled to be the first out of the maelstrom of leather and sweat to get after it. The teams spread out as the number one position chased down the field, intent on sending the ball through the opponents’ goal. Simon galloped hard to get to the front of the other players, blocking a shot and sending the ball back up the field, riding hard to try and score.

The other team was playing dirty, attempting a two against one strategy to keep Simon from tying up the game. But they underestimated him. He didn’t want to tie the game, he wanted to win it cleanly which meant he needed to get it done fast. He swiveled his head to see who was open, and grinned. They’d left Harry open. Harry was such an unassuming, jovial fellow. Everyone loved Harry and never understood how much potential he had. Looking toward Roland Fellows, the London Pack’s attorney, Simon flicked the ball under Oz’s neck to Harry who pounced on it and easily scored the tying goal.

Time was stopped and the referee assembled the teams in the center of the field to restart play.

“Well done, Harry,” said Simon with a wide grin.

Dicky threw in the ball and play resumed. The ball was headed in the right direction and this time Roland was first out after it. They had less than two minutes to get that bloody ball through the bloody goal. If Simon’s team couldn’t win the game, there would be another break and they’d be forced to play a sudden-death chukker.

Simon galloped down the polo field after Roland, readying his mallet. There was no way that Roland could make that shot, and fortunately it appeared that he knew it too. Roland executed two changes of direction to confuse the opposition and managed a hard shot to the ball, sending it airborne toward Simon, who let it bounce and then went after it. Swinging his mallet, he connected with the ball and sent it flying through the goal posts as the horn sounded and the chukker came to a close.

The Tanglewood Wolves had won the game. While normally a cause for celebration and a couple of rounds at the closest pub, the Alpha of London had something else in mind. His cock became swollen and pressed hard against the fly of his breeches. There was no way he was going for a pint with the boys. No, Simon was headed for the Hamptons to formally claim his fabulous fated mate, Mariah Halsey.

***

She was going to kill him, Alpha of London or not. Honest to God she was going to kill him. If she could just get hold of the silver derringer her mother kept, she could shoot Simon with silver bullets—not anywhere that would cause immediate death, but where the toxicity of the silver would kill him slowly. She’d stand and watch him die. Yeah, that’s how she would do it.

Mariah and Simon’s bonding ceremony was scheduled for sunset that evening. It had sounded so romantic when her mother had proposed it. Who knew that unconscionable English prick she was engaged to would decide they shouldn’t see each other the day of the ceremony until her father walked her down the aisle? Or worse yet, that the bastard would decide to hold his sendoff from his bachelor days at a fucking polo match.

Last night when she’d told him in no uncertain terms exactly what she thought of him and his stupid plan, he’d given her an ultimatum—behave or he’d leave her handcuffed to the bed. She hadn’t believed he would put her in restraints at her parents’ estate. The worst part was their fight had degenerated into a fight between her parents and several other couples.

Simon had left her dressed in a gorgeous, gossamer silk nightgown with nothing else on but the padded handcuffs and a tether that was long enough for her to be able to move around the room, use the attached bath, and go out to the balcony. What she couldn’t do was leave their room or kill him.

She’d heard her father’s private jet land a few minutes ago. Simon, the rat bastard, was back. At some point he was going to have to turn her loose and then she would wreak havoc on him and anyone else who’d had a hand in this fiasco.

The front door opened and the sounds of people greeting and congratulating Simon drifted up from the foyer. He hadn’t locked the bedroom door. After all, there was no real need since she had no way to escape. But after her father had tried to reason with her to quell her anger for the second time, she’d locked it behind him and refused to open it.

There was a knock on the door. “Mariah, Simon is back. He and your father are having a drink in the study. Simon said that if you unlock the door and agree to behave, I can remove the handcuffs.”

She didn’t need to see the wolf on the other side to know it was her father’s beta, mate to her mother’s sister—her Uncle Bash.

“You can tell my miserable, rotten sire and his new best buddy they can go fuck themselves and explain to all the guests why the bride is not there,” she snarled.

“Mariah, honey, I don’t think that’s going to work. I know how your father deals with your mother when she decides to throw a major tantrum and your mate impresses me as a wolf who will deal with you in the same manner.”

“Fuck you, Uncle Bash.”

Even though the walls and doors were thick, she was fairly sure she could hear her uncle sigh. She didn’t care what he or anyone else thought.

She wasn’t coming out.

Mariah and Simon had exchanged their vows six months ago at their castle in England. So much had happened since then. The ceremony at Tanglewood had been very casual and informal, and her mother had begged her to do a formal ceremony here in the Hamptons. Well, it wasn’t her fault her mother was going to be disappointed.

Another knock on the door. “Whoever it is, fuck off and die,” she hollered from the bed.

No sound or words came through the solid oak door, but a fist broke through, right above the deadbolt. Mariah watched as it uncurled, and the fingers reached down to unlock the latch before withdrawing back through the hole and then turning the knob. Only one wolf she knew would have the power and temerity to do that—the one she was supposed to be taking her vows with.

“I understand you’ve had a rather challenging day,” he said in a cool English accent as he entered their room.

Anyone hearing Simon might assume he was only mildly annoyed with her. Unfortunately, as his fated mate, she could feel the anger rolling off of him. The fact that he hadn’t gotten laid since early last night and had just finished playing what she suspected was a tough game of polo, only added to the intensity of his emotions.

“I would like to have watched you play,” she offered as an excuse.

“Bullshit,” he said in a clipped tone. “What you wanted was to get your way and when you didn’t, you threw a tantrum and did your best to get the whole household into an uproar. If we were home, love, I’d strap you to the St. Andrew’s cross and put you under the lash. I, however, will not allow you to upset your mother any further.”

“You shouldn’t have left me tied to the bed, Simon.”

“As restraints go, it’s not much of one, and your father and Bash had instructions to turn you loose if you settled down, which obviously never happened.”

“It sounded like you won your polo match, but I won the argument to see you before my father walked me down the aisle, so I guess that makes us even. By the way, I’ve decided I want to walk by myself.”

Simon shook his head. “No, my sweet mate. I will not allow you to continue with your tantrum and to strike out at your father that way. And when I get through with you, you’ll wish that you hadn’t seen me before the ceremony.” He closed the door behind him, which seemed pointless since now there was a large hole in it. Simon sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his thigh. “Now, Mariah.”

She blinked her eyes. He couldn’t be serious, could he? “You… you can’t spank me.”

“I rather think I can. Over my knee, Mariah, or safeword out.”

“Out of what? Our bonding?” the idea of ending their pairing made her feel as though someone had shot her with silver bullets.

Simon shook his head and held his hand out to her. “Come, sit.”

She took his hand, allowing him to draw her into his lap and wrap his arms around her.

“The next time you see Oz, you’d best give him a kiss on the nose. If he hadn’t been on top of his game, we wouldn’t have won the match. Between that and formally taking our vows this evening, I’m in an exceptionally good mood, which is a lucky thing for you. Because if I wasn’t, that question would have earned you my belt instead of my hand. I will never let you go, Mariah. Never. There is nothing and no one more important to me than you.”

“Then what would my safeword get me out of, the spanking?” she brightened at that idea.

He chuckled. “I told you once that safewords don’t work in a discipline situation. All the safeword would have done is delay the spanking until you were willing to ask me for it.”

“You’d have been waiting a long time for that.”

“Think so? You should know when you’re due discipline, there won’t be any dick for you either and absolutely no knotting until you have your punishment. I’d make you suck me off twice a day and you would get nothing in return.”

“You are an evil bastard.”

“Yes, pet, I thought we’d established that several months ago. So do you want to use your safeword and get dressed for the ceremony, or would you prefer to submit to me, take your spanking, and get on with it?”

Simon’s anger had subsided, and he waited for what they both knew would be her capitulation. She was addicted to Simon’s lovemaking, and she also knew she’d acted like a total bitch and embarrassed him in front of a wolf he had nothing but respect and admiration for… her sire.

She knew he’d won and so rested against her mate, nuzzling his neck. “I’m sorry, Simon, and I’ll apologize to my dad before we walk down the aisle.”

Mariah stood up and placed herself over his knee, starting to feel badly about how she’d behaved. Not only because of how it impacted her parents and their pack, but how it reflected on Simon.

“That’s my good mate,” he crooned softly, lifting the hem of her nightgown up and over her back, exposing the curves of her ass to caress them.

The seductive tone of his voice belayed the anticipation of what she knew was coming. He was calmer than when he’d come in, but he was still angry. The sound of his hand connecting with her ass echoed in the room before she felt the heat and then the pain. She bit her lip to keep from cursing. Simon was serious and meant to ensure she knew the depth of his displeasure—those had been his exact words—at her actions.

Another strike to her backside and fire licked across her flesh. It didn’t only hurt where his hand landed, the pain radiated outward from there. But more than that, she felt the pain of knowing she’d disappointed him. And for what? Nothing. Nothing other than not getting her own way. That seemed a stupid reason to upset him.

Simon tattooed her ass, covering it evenly and effectively. Tears welled in her eyes. She loved him; she’d do anything for him. She’d even killed for him. And she’d do it all again. Mariah knew that if she pleaded with him to stop, he would. But she didn’t. She owed him this. She wouldn’t ask him to stop, but she didn’t have to stem her tears, so she let them fall.

Again and again, he spanked her, accepting her submission and her apology. She knew she needed this; knew she needed his loving discipline to feel safe. He was literally the wind beneath her wings. He gave her everything, supported her in anything she would ever want to do, and reveled in her success, not for his own pride, but for her accomplishment. He was her greatest champion. Her Dom, her lover, her mate.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over, and peace descended on her.

“Do you think you can get up, get dressed and behave yourself?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, and knew she meant it.

His hand began to caress her bottom once more. “In spite of your behavior, I appreciate you agreeing to honor who and what we are to each other.”

He helped her up and drew her back into his lap, seated this time. “Should I go to the corner?” she asked timidly.

Simon smiled. “Did I say you could get up from my lap?”

“No, Sir. I was just trying to be respectful of the time.”

“We have time enough for you to get dressed and meet me at the end of the aisle at the appointed hour.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. “Not if you’re going to forgive me properly.”

“Properly, is it? Didn’t I once warn you about trying to lead me around by my dick?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“But nothing. You may have managed to get me to see you, but that sting in your tail is all you’ll get from me until after we’ve exchanged our vows and enjoyed the celebration your mother and Aunt Liza have spent months planning.”

“But Simon…”

“If I hear one swear word, one protest, or one snarky comment, that’s exactly what I’ll have tonight—your ass.” Simon helped her up, kissed her long and hard and turned her toward the bath with an affectionate swat to her backside. “I’ll send in your attendants to help you get dressed. See you at sunset.”

He left her standing in the soft light of the afternoon and she thought, silver bullets. Definitely silver bullets.