The Last Rancher was released into the wilderness of Amazon on Saturday. I’m so excited to share this book with you, after all my excerpts and jokes about dead bodies. For WipItUp Wednesday, here’s one final excerpt from the book, when Ember realizes how she feels during her first spanking:
“If you’re getting turned on, I clearly need to spank you harder.” He brought his hand down across my upturned cheeks again, and at that moment he might have been a world-renowned tennis player whacking the ball straight across the court to catch out his opponent. When he spanked me again, I took a sharp breath. Over the top of my stiff glutes, this was really starting to hurt.
A dozen or more of these harder strokes and tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. The emotional wreckage from the last two days suddenly exploded into the air around me as I let out all my breath in one loud scream. Loss of my entire world. Death all around me. Shame at my failures. Anger with myself and the men who brought me out here. Betrayal of my trust in the system. Fear for the future. Desperation that I had to stop the hunt. Everything mingled together while my soul tore itself open and spewed angst in every direction.
He paid no mind to the bone-chilling noise while I emptied my lungs into the room, drowning out the sound of his hand striking my bottom, until there was no more air inside me. My stomach was still clenched so it was a second or two before I took another breath, during which the only noise was him spanking me. When I was able to get more air, it came out again straight away in a strangled sob, then another, until the tears tumbled across my face.
The sting in my bottom burrowed deep into my haunches, and it uprooted all my anger, my fear, and my sadness, casting it up to the surface and letting it all evaporate, until eventually I felt nothing anymore, just the distant burning of his hand as it continued to collide with my cheeks.
I was still crying when he stopped spanking me. Long after he finished, my rear burned. He let me lie over his knee as my tears kept flowing, and eventually the negativity finished working its way out. Now, I was calm, not because I was forcing my emotions down to survive, but because they simply weren’t there. They would return, I was certain, but for now they had receded.
“That helped?” he asked.
I recognized distantly that I should be angry at him. It wasn’t normal for someone to just throw another person over their knee and spank them. But I wasn’t angry. I felt better.
I had never, in all my life, thought about someone taking me over their knee and spanking me before. Punishment didn’t exist in Novara. When people disagreed, they separated. It wasn’t common for people to talk about their feelings. Emotions were for ball games and sports bars. It was the shared elation of a home win, or the devastation of a missed touchdown. Between people, feelings weren’t aired until someone decided they’d had enough and then they broke up. I could probably count on one hand the times when one of my friends had actually told someone why it was over. Or that it was over. Most times, they just froze them out.
When the sting subsided, all that was left was the warm glow, and my calmness was replaced by an overwhelming desire to be taken by this strong man. My clit throbbed, a reminder that it wanted to be touched, and my nipples pointed out that my pussy would have to get in line. Unwilling to tell him how much I needed him right now, I startled a little when his fingers lightly trailed along my bottom and ignited little sparks of need all over my body. A moan betrayed my desire, and he chuckled at my predicament.
“Are you going to ask me, or will I make you wait?” he prompted.
I shook my head fervently and decided I was innocent until proven guilty. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I retorted thickly, but my voice had dropped an octave and my lips struggled to form the words coherently.
The Last Rancher is available here on Amazon!