right.
No sound.
No reason. What was the point of paddling him? Because he’d called her bluff? She didn’t endorse copying what men did if it made no sense. That wasn’t liberation. She threw the paddle on the bed. “I can’t do it.”
He rolled onto his back and rested on his elbows. Even flaccid, his penis was big, well shaped, and surrounded by dark curly hair that disappeared under his shirt. “Are you sure?” he asked. “This is your last chance.”
He should have appeared ridiculous lying there, his pants scrunched around his ankles, but he didn’t. He seemed at ease, a man comfortable in his own skin. She feared looking him in the face, but she couldn’t keep staring at his penis, so reluctantly she met his gaze. “I’m sure.”
He stood and pulled up his pants. “We have an agreement, then. I’m going to spank you now.”
Technically she hadn’t verbally said yes, but her consent had been implicit. She could inform him thanks but no thanks, she had no wish to proceed further, but her conscience wouldn’t permit it. She sensed he stood by his word. He would never lie, never cheat. And though his domineering attitude set her teeth on edge, he’d gone out of his way to attend to her comfort and her needs even after she’d angered him. He’d noticed immediately she didn’t like bourbon and got her something she did like. She didn’t like him, but she trusted him. No, that wasn’t true. Despite his arrogance, she did like him. Too much. That was the problem. He was all wrong for her, and she needed to get him out of her system. And what better way to do that but with a good, hard spanking? That would get it through her thick head and pulsing body once and for all that Mark was not the man for her. Then she could sail away undistracted.
Her knees knocked together. “Yes,” she said, wishing her voice sounded stronger, wishing the little pang in her heart would go away.
The leap of approval in his gaze zinged to her core, further weakening her legs. Never had a man looked at her with such pride. Oddly it kindled a desire to please him.
Chapter Six
At Stephanie’s quiet “yes,” lust and relief rocketed through Mark’s body. He had figured it was a long shot that she would allow him to paddle her. Logic told him he needed to give her more time to get to know him and to accept the notion of discipline. Except that he needed to get this woman over his knee. Needed it in a way he never had. With Ronnie and other women he’d been with, discipline, dominance, and spanking had been more of a concept. With Stephanie it was substantive, concrete. Her responses to him had revealed her submissive nature; his overwhelming attraction to her had demonstrated his dominant one. Heat curled in his stomach as he regarded her. She stood there, quaking yet courageous in her boots. Her willingness to bare her bottom represented no small act for her and for them, and he vowed to protect that trust. Though she didn’t realize it yet, she was taking the first step toward acceptance of her submissive nature. As he’d told her, the start of a relationship predicted its future.
“Take off your clothes, please. All of them.”
Her eyes flashed with rebellion. “You didn’t remove all your clothes.”
No, she hadn’t yet recognized her inherent submissiveness. He hid his amusement with a neutral expression. “You didn’t ask me to.”
“B-but—”
He folded his arms and waited.
She set her lips in a mutinous line but slipped out of the man’s vest and draped it over his leather-and-steel bench. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath. Her silk blouse had no buttons but toggles in loops, and she fumbled as she unhooked them. She shrugged out of the blouse, revealing creamy mounds spilling over a demi-cup bra, her erect brownish pink nipples visible under the transparent lace and nearly popping over the top. Her skin flushed the pale rose of embarrassment.
Her glance skipped off his nose. “What
No sound.
No reason. What was the point of paddling him? Because he’d called her bluff? She didn’t endorse copying what men did if it made no sense. That wasn’t liberation. She threw the paddle on the bed. “I can’t do it.”
He rolled onto his back and rested on his elbows. Even flaccid, his penis was big, well shaped, and surrounded by dark curly hair that disappeared under his shirt. “Are you sure?” he asked. “This is your last chance.”
He should have appeared ridiculous lying there, his pants scrunched around his ankles, but he didn’t. He seemed at ease, a man comfortable in his own skin. She feared looking him in the face, but she couldn’t keep staring at his penis, so reluctantly she met his gaze. “I’m sure.”
He stood and pulled up his pants. “We have an agreement, then. I’m going to spank you now.”
Technically she hadn’t verbally said yes, but her consent had been implicit. She could inform him thanks but no thanks, she had no wish to proceed further, but her conscience wouldn’t permit it. She sensed he stood by his word. He would never lie, never cheat. And though his domineering attitude set her teeth on edge, he’d gone out of his way to attend to her comfort and her needs even after she’d angered him. He’d noticed immediately she didn’t like bourbon and got her something she did like. She didn’t like him, but she trusted him. No, that wasn’t true. Despite his arrogance, she did like him. Too much. That was the problem. He was all wrong for her, and she needed to get him out of her system. And what better way to do that but with a good, hard spanking? That would get it through her thick head and pulsing body once and for all that Mark was not the man for her. Then she could sail away undistracted.
Her knees knocked together. “Yes,” she said, wishing her voice sounded stronger, wishing the little pang in her heart would go away.
The leap of approval in his gaze zinged to her core, further weakening her legs. Never had a man looked at her with such pride. Oddly it kindled a desire to please him.
Chapter Six
At Stephanie’s quiet “yes,” lust and relief rocketed through Mark’s body. He had figured it was a long shot that she would allow him to paddle her. Logic told him he needed to give her more time to get to know him and to accept the notion of discipline. Except that he needed to get this woman over his knee. Needed it in a way he never had. With Ronnie and other women he’d been with, discipline, dominance, and spanking had been more of a concept. With Stephanie it was substantive, concrete. Her responses to him had revealed her submissive nature; his overwhelming attraction to her had demonstrated his dominant one. Heat curled in his stomach as he regarded her. She stood there, quaking yet courageous in her boots. Her willingness to bare her bottom represented no small act for her and for them, and he vowed to protect that trust. Though she didn’t realize it yet, she was taking the first step toward acceptance of her submissive nature. As he’d told her, the start of a relationship predicted its future.
“Take off your clothes, please. All of them.”
Her eyes flashed with rebellion. “You didn’t remove all your clothes.”
No, she hadn’t yet recognized her inherent submissiveness. He hid his amusement with a neutral expression. “You didn’t ask me to.”
“B-but—”
He folded his arms and waited.
She set her lips in a mutinous line but slipped out of the man’s vest and draped it over his leather-and-steel bench. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath. Her silk blouse had no buttons but toggles in loops, and she fumbled as she unhooked them. She shrugged out of the blouse, revealing creamy mounds spilling over a demi-cup bra, her erect brownish pink nipples visible under the transparent lace and nearly popping over the top. Her skin flushed the pale rose of embarrassment.
Her glance skipped off his nose. “What
Similar Books
