Martha, Book Five, The Marriage Market

Martha Jonas can’t seem to help feeling a bit sorry for herself. Her gentle Ethan, the man she plans to marry, has put his foot down, telling her what she must and must not do. It’s appalling! The very idea that, as her husband, the big Swede would feel justified – no, worse than that – entitled to pull her over his lap and smack her bottom when she displeases him is simply too much to bear.

Perhaps she won’t marry at all! Martha decides an independent woman is not a good match for a dominating man. She will show Ethan that she isn’t a silly woman and can take care of herself.

That, of course, is before all hell breaks loose.

In the space of a few days, everything changes. When the men find out about the secret plans for ‘that temperance nonsense,’ they are not amused. Jane’s children go missing on their way west, and their escort turns out to be less than desirable. Clara Webster falls into the hands of Lucas Armstrong, the owner of The Bucket of Blood, one of the most notorious saloons in Seattle. Mary disappears entirely, and Ethan finally decides he’s had enough of Martha’s wishy-washy attitude toward marriage.

Come along for the ride. Will the last bride bow to convention and accept the love and authority of the man who offers what might be her last chance for wedded bliss?

Martha is the fifth book in the Marriage Market series and while it can be read as a stand-alone, the reader would benefit from reading the books of this best-selling series in order.

Publisher’s Note: This book contains elements of power exchange, domestic discipline, and adult content. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.

Excerpt:
“Then take me now, Ethan,” she pleaded. “I am distraught and I want to look forward to my wedding and the wedding night with happiness and not fear.”

“Martha, you do not know what you are asking of me. It is not the way I was raised. I want you to come to me as a virgin bride.”

“Well I don’t,” she replied crossly. “Really, Ethan, I can’t believe you won’t do this one little thing for me. You say you love me, but refuse to consider how I feel about this. What difference does it make if we do this now? Wouldn’t you rather have me come to our wedding happy and eager instead of scared to death?” she demanded.

“Yes, of course I would prefer that,” he answered thoughtfully.

Ethan was surprised and completely tempted. At the same time, he worried that if he failed to perform properly, or hurt her unduly she might call off the wedding entirely and insist she would prefer to remain single. It was quite a dilemma, until she snaked her arms around his neck and began to nibble on his ear.

“Martha, that is not fair,” he protested weakly. “I am trying to think of all possible consequences of what you ask of me.”

“Ethan, for once can’t you be a little less thoughtful and a little more spontaneous?” she breathed in his ear before biting sharply on the lobe.

“Ouch, you are being very naughty,” he cried, rubbing his earlobe.

Martha said nothing; she simple lifted one of his large hands, slipped it inside her robe and placed it on her breast. He felt her pebbled nipple pressing against his palm, felt his member swelling faster than it ever had in his entire life and knew with one hundred percent certainty that he had lost this argument.

With a heavy sigh, Ethan removed his hand, after tweaking her nipple and lifted her from his lap. He placed her on the couch and rose to his enormous height, looked down at her and shook his head. He locked the front door; made sure the screen was in front of the dying fire and returned to the couch.

Reaching down with one hand he pulled her to her feet and right over his shoulder. She squealed out in surprise, but did not struggle. Halfway up the stairs, he swatted her bottom, hard.

“What was that for?” she gasped, lifting her head.

“For being so darn stubborn,” he replied as he continued up to her room.

“Ethan, I’m afraid of heights,” she cried, clutching his shirt fretfully.

“Then perhaps you should have married a stubby, little man,” he offered as he strode down the hallway.

“Perhaps I still will,” she sassed.

He swatted her again as he entered her room.

“Ouch!”

“You no longer have any such option,” he informed her before tossing her on her bed and following her down. “From this moment on, you belong to me and only to me, forever,” he breathed against her lips. “Say stop now, Älskling, for this is your last chance,” he warned.

“Take me,” she whispered.

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