In Thrall - The Viking's Virgin Slave: BDSM Historical Erotic Romance

He roughly grabbed her then, and bent her over his knee. He pushed her down with ease, so that her body was prone over his lap, her head hanging down.
“What-” She began, panicked. Then she felt his rough hand slide up her leg, under her skirt.
She had told herself over and over not to resist, to just give him what he wanted. She had prepared herself for it while pacing his room. Or, she thought she had. Now, with his hands on her and her body helplessly laying over him, her instinct took over and she began to struggle.
“You have to learn your place.” He growled. His hand continued its journey up her thigh. Then he lifted her skirt, throwing it over her back and exposing her backside.
“No!” She wailed, and kicked hard, trying to get free of his hands. She flailed her arms, trying to find purchase.
He made an angry sound, and grabbed her wrists in one hand, crushing them together as he effortlessly held her arms still, right above her head. His other hand suddenly left her thigh, and then there was a shock of pain and a loud SLAP as his palm came down hard on her bare ass.
Zahira cried out, her body jerking. Tears sprung to her eyes. The skin of her backside began to sting and burn, heat rising in the area.
“I'm sorry!” She cried.
He put his hand back on her, and she flinched, but he just cupped the cheek of her ass, and slowly massaged it. As he firmly kneaded, the sting started to subside.
“You may have been some pretty, pampered ornament in your previous life,” Leif said mildly, “But you are my thrall now. You will learn your place.”
She bit her trembling lip, and tried to concentrate on anything but the distracting feeling of his hand massaging and caressing her ass.
Suddenly, he took his hand away, and it fell on her again, with the same SLAP and shock of pain.
“Answer me!” He shouted.
“Yes, My Lord!” She gasped. “I will try to please you. I'm sorry!” She squeezed her thighs together, writhing in pain and anguish.
“Good...” He said, and began massaging her again. He kneaded the burning flesh, and stroked it gently, until most of the pain had receded.
Zahira closed her eyes, anticipating another slap. Suddenly, she could feel him pressing underneath her. She knew what it was - his manhood was hard and pushing up into her belly. She shivered, a curious bolt of excitement coursing through her. He was enjoying this. He wanted her.
Her breath was coming in short gasps, her body tingling with energy and alertness. She felt his hand move lower, and squeeze between her thighs.
She didn't dare protest or even make a sound, as he forced her legs slightly apart and ran a finger down between them. She could feel the wetness between her legs as he traced it lightly. She tried to squeeze her thighs around his hand, to stop him, but he continued as though he hadn't even noticed, his strong fingers invading her, touching where no man had ever touched.
“Mmmm...” He purred. “It seems you like me after all, no matter what you pretend.”