Molly finds herself wanting more in this #SatSpanks

The exciting conclusion of The Dark Necessities is coming and I am excited to bring you this #SatSpanks with an excerpt from Entwined. Take a peek and then preorder Entwined on Amazon!

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Connor swatted her again, pausing to admire the way the impact passed over her cheeks. “Do you need this spanking, kitten?” he demanded, noticing his voice had fallen to little more than a growl. He didn’t know why he asked, having already determined for himself that the answer was yes, but somehow, there was always something so bloody satisfying about hearing it from Molly’s lips.

“Yes, Master,” she breathed as he landed a fourth strike, followed by another three in fast succession. “Yes, I need it.”

“Yes. You. Do.” Connor agreed, accentuating each word with a new swat. “Just think about how many months you’ve gone without my discipline.” Connor landed another hard spank, conscious of his cock throbbing gloriously at the groan that left his kitten’s lips. “How many spankings have you needed?” he asked her. “How many have you missed?”

“Too many, Master,” she panted as he continued, spanking her gorgeous backside time and time again as if to reinforce the point.

“Yes, too many,” he agreed. “I know you, kitten, and naughty little pets like you need regular spankings to keep them in their place.” He paused, watching as her hips rose of their own accord. It was as though Molly’s body was actually looking for his palm. “Don’t they?” he demanded.

“Yes!” She was almost screeching now, though Connor didn’t think he’d been very hard on her so far. Allowing his gaze to drink in the length of her body, he concluded with a wry smile that his pet’s desperation was more to do with her burgeoning arousal, than her pain threshold. He knew from experience that she was well-equipped to deal with a lot of pain.

“Yes, Master. They do. I do!”

“Yes,” he agreed again, and as he spoke, Connor shifted his palm and aimed his next strike directly at her pussy. Molly yelped at the new strike, but the sound morphed quickly into something of a moan. “You like that, kitten,” he mused mockingly. “Don’t you?” Her wide-kneed stance made it easy to access her wet seam, and even the swat he’d just delivered hadn’t made her legs close.

“Yes, Master,” she admitted, her voice a strangled sound which conveyed her very obvious misery on the subject. “Tell me, then,” he commanded as he smacked the area again. “Tell your Master what you like, you naughty little pet.”

Molly moaned at the instruction, her hips grinding against his legs as he gave the order. Her body language was more than clear; Molly wanted more. Much, more more.


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Taken is now live!
Click here for book 1 of The Dark Necessities!

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Entwined is coming! Take a look at THIS cover. :-)

Can a monster ever find redemption?

Free from her captor, author Molly Clary finds herself back at home, but she’s just as lost as ever. In the isolation of her new-found freedom, Molly makes a startling revelation; she can no longer function without Connor Reilly. She can’t write without him; she can’t live without him.

The admission leads Molly into the most intense and dangerous chapter of her twisted love affair yet, and by reaching out to Connor again, she must decide if she can really leave her old life behind to venture into the dark and mysterious confines of the organization known only as The Syndicate.

For a couple whose love is built on lust, and fear and submission, there should be no happy ending. But as Molly helps her kidnapper lay his ghosts to rest, the question beckons, can they forge their own brand of happiness regardless? Can Connor finally be delivered into a consensual union with his kitten, and will it be enough to satisfy both of their dark needs?

Buy the captivating conclusion to The Dark Necessities trilogy, and devour this tantalizing finale.

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“Don’t look at me like that,” he told her without looking up from the buttons.

Molly screwed the bedding up in her fists. “Don’t do this!” she implored him for what must be the twentieth time that day. “Please, Master. I don’t like it. I don’t like this, at all.”

“Kitten,” he cooed, pacing toward the bed and falling to his knees beside her. “You’re the reason I’m doing this. You’re the reason I need to do it.”

Molly blinked away the tears which were threatening to fall. “No,” she gasped, as she reached for his shoulder. “If that’s true, then I’m sorry, but I’ve changed my mind. Don’t go…”

She hated how desperate she sounded, but there it was; every word was true. All of her emotions were laid out there. Her heart exposed and vulnerable, just as it had been since the day she’d started to fall for the man who’d captured her.

Connor’s expression melted a little at her display of emotion, but his determined eyes told her the real story. He was going to do it. He was going, and he was going to do whatever this thing was he’d arranged with Malone, and as per fucking usual, there wasn’t a thing Molly could do to change it. Inside her, her heart began to break.

“Don’t upset yourself, pet,” he purred as he stroked the side of her face lovingly. “I want you to stay here and rest, because when this is over, I’m going to need you like I’ve never needed anyone before.”

The knot of tension in her belly tightened at his words. If Connor was going to need her so badly, then her intuition must be spot on, and whatever this was must be absolutely freaking awful.

“I’m worried,” she conceded in a flurry. “I have a bad feeling about this, Master.”

He offered her a small smile. “Honestly,” he admitted, “I have a pretty bad feeling, too, but it will be okay. I have Dalton with me. He’ll look after me.”

She was sobbing as he pulled her in for one last embrace, apparently trying to soothe her with hot, torrid kisses.

“Promise me you’ll stay here like a good, little kitten,” he whispered. “I don’t want to have to lock you in anymore. I think we’ve moved past that point now, don’t you?”

Molly nodded. She didn’t want to be locked in either, but she’d accept those terms from now on if it meant he was going to stay.

“Lock the door behind me,” he warned her. “And stay put!”

Connor’s hand reached for her chin, forcing it up to meet the intensity of his gaze. “Promise me, kitten. Promise me you’ll stay put.”

“Let’s go, Connor!” Dalton’s voice yelled from just beyond the door, making Molly jump instinctively.

“Promise me,” Connor demanded, resting his forehead against her face.

Molly raised her head to meet the strength of his gaze, and she knew he meant it. She was going to have to promise him. That compelling look in his eyes was never going to have it any other way. “Okay,” she sobbed quietly. “I promise, Master.”

But even as the words slipped from her lips, Molly knew she didn’t mean them. Whatever was going to happen to him, there was no way she was just going to lie here and wait.

No fucking way.

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Preorder Entwined on Amazon


Start the romance with Taken, book 1 of The Dark Necessities

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Continue the journey with Tamed, book 2 of The Dark Necessities

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Taken as Theirs by Kryssie Fortune

In this week’s NeverEnding Blog Tour, Kryssie Fortune has a new release!

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As a breeder–one of the few fertile women left in a ruined, plague-ravaged world–Cassie would fetch a handsome price at auction, and selling her to the highest bidder was exactly what her captors had in mind… until two fearsome beasts decided to take her for themselves.

Eli and Dane have chosen Cassie for their mate, and when she makes a foolish attempt at escape she quickly ends up tearfully promising obedience as her bare bottom is soundly and shamefully punished. Her body’s response to their stern dominance cannot be denied, however, and it isn’t long before she is screaming out her intense, helpless pleasure as she is roughly and thoroughly claimed. But will Eli and Dane’s pack accept a human girl or will Cassie be an outsider forever?

Grab Taken As Theirs on Amazon

and read this sizzling excerpt

Eli smirked as he leaned against the nearest boulder. Beside him, Dane grinned like a schoolboy. Once he’d shoved his hair from his face, Eli turned to Cassie. “You owe us a forfeit. Lie on the blanket and make yourself come.”

They both growled when she shook her head and looked around for her clothes. “No way. Never. I can’t do that, not with you watching.”

Dane’s gaze smoldered with heat. “We won, and you owe us.”

Aware of Dane’s joy, Eli felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Around Cassie, his brother seemed freer and wilder, more the way he’d been before the incident scarred his face. If Cassie hadn’t already claimed his heart, he’d love her for making Dane smile. She was the perfect mate for them, and come the next full moon, they’d claim her as theirs. They just needed to bring their pack mates home. That and prepare her for public nudity and ropes.

“Do all humans welch on their bets?” he teased.

Cassie shook her head. “I’m embarrassed. Can’t I pay my forfeit another way?”

Face faux stern, eyes shining, Eli pulled himself erect. “Lie on the blanket. Let us see you finger your beautiful nipples until they bead. I want to see their red tips hard and pointy.”

Chewing at her lower lip, she sank onto the blanket. Eli’s eyes shone in excitement. Even Dane looked expectant and happy as he commanded, “Lie back and pluck at your nipples. Tease them until they turn hard.”

Slowly, hesitantly, she cupped her breasts. The delighted smile on his brother’s face made Eli want to turn cartwheels and cheer. Unaware of Eli’s scrutiny, Dane’s gaze never left her face.

“Pinch your nipples,” Dane ordered.

Closing her eyes, she stroked and pinched them as he’d demanded. Her nipples hardened instantly.

Eli sounded hoarse when he commanded, “I want you looking at us when you come. Open your eyes.”

Her cheeks turned scarlet, but she did as he’d said.

“Good girl,” Eli praised. “Is your sweet cunny wet yet? Spread your legs and let me see your cum smearing your thighs. It’s thick and creamy, a delicious treat that spills out of your pussy.”

About Kryssie Fortune

Kryssie lives by the beach and loses track of time when she writes. Her days are full of dashing regency rakes, former soldiers so handsome they make her drool, and the sexiest werewolves ever. The odd vampire makes it in there too, but when he does, he’s drop dead gorgeous.

Her pet hates are unhappy endings and cliff hangers. She guarantees you won’t find either in her books. Her books sizzle with sensual heat, but story always comes before sex. Even when part of a series, her books can be read as stand-alone romance. 

Kryssie Fortune Social Media

Website      http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie
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Amazon Author Page  http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO

 

Delia learns there are rewards too in this #SatSpanks excerpt

It’s Saturday, so you know what time it is. Take a peek at this #SatSpanks excerpt and grab Duty Bound!

2

She collapsed from Medlock’s lap, crawling towards Turner instinctively. Cardinal Turner met the crying women with open arms, scooping her up against his body, and holding her there. Solace. That was what she needed now, and that was all he offered. For the longest time there was silence, save for the throaty sobs which escaped Delia’s mouth from time to time, but after a while, even those began to calm.

Medlock and Brogan roused, shifting from their places and taking up new locations as they waited to see what would happen. How would Delia be feeling when her head cleared? Would she be receptive to the new ideas the three of them had in mind now that her daily penance had been observed? But they knew better than to force things. Serving God had taught them patience, and they waited for the little lamb to stir.

After a while, her face lifted from its place against Turner’s vestments, the scarlet of his robes wet from her tears. She blinked down at the wet patch she’d created, blushing lightly in acknowledgement.

“I’m sorry, Cardinal.” Her words were little more than a murmur.

“No more apologies today,” he told her softly. As he spoke, his right arm shifted from its place around her and meandered to her hot, tear-stained face. Turner brushed away the dark hair sticking to the side of her face, the soft caress capturing her attention immediately.

“Your absolution is close, Delia. Just a few more days and we feel sure you’ll have earned God’s forgiveness.” Her brows knitted at his words, and the hand at her face travelled lightly to her right cheek, Turner’s thumb stroking the flesh there tenderly.

“A few more days?” she croaked. “But, Cardinal, I don’t know how much more I can bear.” Delia’s hand slipped reflexively to her punished backside as if to reinforce the point.

“I know,” Turner replied. “You will be sore, but that is the point. A punishment which does not sting will not change your future behaviour. But you have done so well already. We know that you will bear it, Delia, and then your sins will be cast aside.” She sighed, the sound loud in the silence of the room.

“I hadn’t expected this to be so…” she hesitated, searching for the right word. “Tough.” Turner smiled.

“Nothing good comes without effort, little lady.” He drew her face closer towards him, and to his relief, she didn’t offer any resistance as his large fingers guided her forward. “There shouldn’t only be effort though.” Turner’s words were a low, sensual whisper, vibrating over her body. Delia’s eyes widened, and despite her obvious discomfort, she shifted on his lap.

“No?” she asked, biting her lower lip. “What else should there be, Cardinal?” Turner’s loins stirred at her question, and he noticed how large her pupils had become. If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn the little lamb was open to his advances.

“Reward,” he told her. “A reward for all your efforts. God is merciful, remember?”


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Taken is now live! 
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Is it bad when Delia doesn’t even notice the spanks stop? Find out in this #SatSpanks

Check out how Delia reacts in this #SatSpanks edition, an exclusive excerpt from Duty Bound. Grab this hot anthology fast to find out what happens!

***

Delia’s breath caught in her throat, her anticipation building. The room was filled with a new energy, which seemed to pulse around her. Her belly knotted with anxious excitement. Why was he making her wait? This was too…
She never got to conclude that thought. In a flash, Turner’s hand had vanished from her body, and he had brought his palm crashing back down against her vulnerable arse. Delia yelped out of instinct, not because the swat was painful, but just because there had been one. He had finally spanked her, and despite her embarrassment and discomfort, she was glad of it.
“We will only use my palm.” Turner’s voice was like a soft, insistent thrum, the sound vibrating over her body to find her ears. “And for now, you may stay clothed, Delia. This is just a warm-up.”
There was a definite gasp at that, but he had already landed the second swat, and this was harder than before. A warm-up? Is that what he’d said? And what was that about clothing? Surely, he couldn’t think to strip her before she was spanked? That ignominy seemed too great for anyone to bear. Turner struck her upturned behind again, following with three fresh swats, all in fast succession. With each new spank, the sting intensified. She wasn’t sure if Turner was intentionally landing them harder, or if it was the cumulative effect of receiving one after the other, but by the time Delia had counted the tenth in her head, she could absolutely feel the weight of each impact.
As the cardinal settled into some sort of rhythm, the onslaught came harder and faster, until Delia reached a point where each new strike began to take her breath away. She squirmed over his lap as the swats rained down, instinctively reaching behind her and trying to protect her punished behind. His hand paused at once, one of those large palms catching her smaller wrist and holding it in place as Turner chastised her.
“No, thank you, young lady.” This time his voice was stern, reminding her of the way her father had once spoken to her before his untimely demise. “You shall not interfere with God’s work. You have confessed your sins, and come here for forgiveness. Now, you must endure your penance.”
“But, Cardinal!” she gasped. “Please.”
The hand which had trapped her wrist pulled it away from the curves of her behind, and drew it back towards her shoulders. Delia twisted awkwardly over his robes. The position wasn’t hurting her, but it was certainly less comfortable, and she instantly disliked the weight of his free arm against her back. As soon as her bottom was cleared of her self-imposed obstruction, his palm resumed, peppering her arse with cruel, loud swats which seemed to fill up the office like rolls of thunder. And still Delia resisted. It was like she couldn’t stop, as though she had temporarily lost control of her own body. The more he spanked her, the more her body rolled and countered him, her bottom searching for a way out of its penance. Yet the cardinal’s will was strong, perhaps even stronger than her own, and her wilful display did nothing to quell his ambition. The arm at her back held her steady, while his other hand worked relentlessly, spanking her over and over again.
The loss of control was maddening, but in her mind, the fight was not futile. Delia imagined herself, as Turner might see her, draped over his vestment; prone and exposed, and she despised the mental image. She hated how weak she was, and how vulnerable she felt. She resented the power these men held over her. Or at least, that’s what she told herself as she writhed over his body, that’s how she convinced herself that she wasn’t enjoying the surrender. But it wasn’t true, and if Cardinal Turner was right about God, then He would certainly know the deceit. The truth was it did hurt, and it was uncomfortable, and yet for all her protestations, Delia was secretly beginning to revel in it. The whole scenario was uniquely compelling. For the first time, she was being held to account for her actions, and it was all happening like this; she was being spanked by the gorgeous cardinal in the red robes with the mesmerising blue eyes.
As the realisation dawned over her, the fight left Delia’s body in an instant. She felt the miscellaneous energy rush from her body, and she slumped forward, panting as she finally began to understand. This was all part of the punishment. First the anticipation, then the resistance, and now, the resignation. And resigned she was, her eyes closing as she accepted the brunt of Turner’s palm as it punished her bottom over and over. At that moment of concession, her body relaxed, despite the wall of pain which was being built at her behind. At that moment, her mind was quiet, and as she slipped away from conscious thought, Delia realised it was perhaps the first time her head had ever been free. She no longer had to think. She no longer had to worry about what to wear, or do, or say. She no longer had control. She’d given that up to Turner, or to God, or whoever the hell was orchestrating this bizarre ritual, but whoever it was, Delia felt sure they could keep it. This quiet freedom was good. Better than anything she could have imagined, maybe even better than the simmering thrum of arousal which kept its insistent throb between her legs.
“Good girl, Delia,” crooned Turner from above her head. “There’s our good girl, brothers. She is finally capitulating, and submitting to the will of God.”
“Praise be His name,” murmured Cardinal Medlock from beyond her head.
The sound of their voices stirred her from the peculiar tranquillity Delia had found in the punishment, and she wished at once that she could return to its warm folds. But now another urge was coming to fore. The weight of sensation at her core was building, centring her, making her focus only the weight of the cardinal’s palm as it struck her jeans. She imagined the impact, envisioning the reverberations as they spread outwards, down towards her legs. Down between her thighs.
A small moan escaped her lips, and reflexively she raised her free hand to cover her lips at the sound. Delia swore she had not consciously meant to make it, but then she remembered, nothing about this act was conscious anymore. She’d had control at the start, when she consented to the penance, but since then; since she found herself draped over Turner’s vestments, Delia had none. There was no say over the timing or intensity of each swat, no ability to protect herself, and now, apparently, there was no control over her own body’s responses. A hot blush engulfed her face as she realised what she’d done, and yet it was already too late. She’d moaned gutturally over the Cardinal’s lap, and they must have heard her. At least Turner must have caught the sound, and probably Medlock and Brogan, too.
Oh, God…
It was then that she registered the change. The spanking had halted, and in her embarrassed state of mind, Delia hadn’t even noticed.


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Taken is now live!
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Happy release day to me, Duty Bound is live!

Duty Bound is now Live and ready to steam up your kindle!

Duty Bound (Sins)

When their uniforms come off…

Bossy, dedicated, overprotective, super complicated. A woman needs a man like that in her life like she needs a temporal lobe headache, right? Think again, because when the uniforms come off and the temperature skyrockets, it’s time to forget Hell and take a trip straight to Heaven.

How about multiplying that by three, four, or more? You get the picture? This set of panty-melting reverse harem stories will have you gasping, panting, squirming and sweating. Read late into the night with these steamy tales featuring priests, military men, S.W.A.T. officers, gardeners, waiters, and more.

For a limited time only, grab your own harem of hot men who are determined to be the best of the best, especially when it comes to adoring their woman.

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The three of them made their way through the narrow halls, Delia trapped between the leading figure of Brogan and the even taller Cardinal Turner, who seemed to tower over her. As they walked, Turner insisted on asking her a variety of inane questions, none of which had anything to do with the reasons she was actually here, or what in the hell they were planning to do with her.

Nervous butterflies stretched their wings as her mind considered what the options could be. Her uncle had been disappointed at her behaviour—angry even—but surely, he wouldn’t leave her in the care of men who would hurt her? And anyway, she reassured herself as Turner chatted on, there were laws against that. They couldn’t touch her, but they could intimidate, and if she was honest, they already had.

It was true, no overt threats had been made, but still there was something. Something imperceptible, something in the air here like a lingering scent. Delia could sense it instinctively, although she couldn’t give the sensation a name. The worst of it was though, it wasn’t just trepidation that the atmosphere produced in her tightly-wound body, it was also arousal. Delia hadn’t had that much experience with boys her own age. Uncle Nicholas had always made that prospect practically impossible, but she had dated a couple, breaking out of the house after hours when her aunt and uncle had believed she was sleeping.

Neither Timmy Blore, nor Steve Furst had been much to talk about. They had really just been fumbles in the dark, but the experiences had taught her one thing; she enjoyed a man taking control. And every time Brogan and Turner had stood up to her today, Delia had felt the tension in her core, and that hot, slick arousal which had collected at the apex of her thighs. The thought of whatever was about to transpire in Turner’s office made her feel giddy, though she realised that was stupid. Whatever was on the cards for her, these men were priests. They didn’t see her that way. No doubt she was little better than a naughty school-girl to them, although she’d been in college now for nearly three years.

“And you’re at college, Delia,” Turner asked. “Is that right?”

His question cut through her internal monologue, and she nodded, trying to compose herself before she answered the hot-looking priest with the astonishing blue eyes. He was older than Father Brogan, but every inch as tempting.

Stop it, she chastised herself. Stop thinking that way. This is the sort of shit that landed you in trouble in the first place. If you hadn’t been trying to impress Steve, then you’d never have stolen the damn cigarettes in the first place.

“Yes, Cardinal,” she replied, unable to meet his piercing gaze as it drilled into her. His eyes were like the colour of a tropical ocean, and were quite unlike anything Delia had ever seen before. “I had been thinking of going on to university.”

“So, you’re a bright young woman,” he responded, flashing her an absolutely devastating smile. “Pray tell, why it has taken you so long to complete your college course?” Delia grimaced. Perfect, now she had to admit yet more misdemeanours.

“I’ve had to retake one of the years,” she admitted, lowering her gaze to the floor.

“Why?” Turner asked in a knowing tone which made her wonder if he didn’t have the
answer from her uncle already.

“I didn’t take my studies seriously at first,” she conceded, the words falling from her
in one, long rush. “I was distracted.”

Delia lifted her chin, catching Turner’s haunting gaze still fixed on her.

“I see,” he replied. “Perhaps you have been in need of our guidance for a while,
Delia?”

She nodded, uncertain what she should say. She still didn’t want to be here, but there
was something disturbingly alluring about being around these men. If she was forced to endure this social isolation, then at least she could enjoy their company and easy-on-the-eye aesthetics.

“We’ll do our best to help you,” the cardinal assured her, “but you have to promise me one thing, Delia.”

The sound of her name on his lips made her gulp. It was like a reflex. “What’s that, Cardinal Turner?”

“You have to promise to be my good girl, Delia,” he told her in what sounded like a deliberately seductive tone. “No running, no fighting and no more speaking out of line. You will take your punishment, and then you’ll receive atonement.”

Turner’s words washed over her like a wave, sending her thoughts scattering.
Punishment? Had he just said punishment? Sure, Uncle Nicholas had inferred there would be consequences; he’d said that was what she needed, but what the fuck did that mean? She was a grown woman, for God’s sake! What were they going to do to her? Throw her in the dungeon? A shiver ran down her spine at the prospect, its resonance connecting with her sex in the most delicious way. Delia didn’t know what was wrong with her, but somehow the idea sounded magnificent.

“Delia?” Those blue eyes were boring into her again. “Delia, can you do that? Can you be my good girl?”

She turned her head to see Turner’s perfect gaze again. Fuck. How can you resist temptation like that, she wondered? He might be dressed like a priest, but she bet under that robe was all the equipment she wanted.

“Yes, Cardinal.” Oh God, she was practically panting now. What must he think of her? “I can try.”

1-Click this steamy reverse harem anthology now!

Submitting to the Rancher by BJ Wane

This week in the Never Ending Blog Tour, BJ Wane is celebrating their newest release!

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One look into his intent, cobalt gaze and her heated response made her forget her troubles.

Sydney Greenbriar finds more than she bargained for when she gets lost on her way to report for a new job and finds herself at a BDSM club. Peering in through the window, her attention, and libido are both snagged by one man delivering some old-fashioned discipline to a young blonde. After he runs her off, both are surprised to discover she is the new cook he’d hired for his ranch.

Caden MacGregor wanted to turn away the cheeky woman he’d caught spying on his club without remorse, but desperation for a cook forced his hand. Sydney proved to be a definite asset to his employees, and a royal pain in his butt. Somehow, her penchant for getting lost and landing in trouble, along with her determination to return to the club as a guest, soon slid past his resistance.

It took a threat to Sydney and unearthing the truth about what made her flee her home in Missouri to force them to admit their feelings and get her to stay as more than his cook.

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The cheeky grin Sydney flipped Caden shouldn’t have surprised him, or her easy compliance when she turned her head back down and waited for his retribution. Had she kicked and screamed for him to let her go, he would’ve done so, but when had the girl reacted as he thought she should? Knowing it was a mistake and may very well end up crossing a line he couldn’t cross back over, he swatted her right buttock, the red imprint he left behind showing with vivid brightness against her lily-white skin. The terror that sent him speeding down to the corral wouldn’t abate, his mind still reeling from all the injuries she could’ve sustained with that foolhardy stunt. He spanked her other cheek and enjoyed the bounce of the soft globe and her shifting hips way too much. “Had enough?” he asked, rubbing his hand over the warm, smooth flesh.
“Would you stop if we were at The Barn and I was your sub?” she returned with a slight catch in her voice.
“Hell, no.” He refused to lie even if doing so would be in his best interest.
“Then pretend I am and don’t stop… please.”
He sighed, her whispered plea sealing both their fate. “Remember, I warned you to be careful about what you ask for.” Caden proceeded to give her what she thought she wanted ever since he’d caught her spying and caved to what he’d been itching to do.
With a volley of sharp smacks, he peppered Sydney’s ass until the pink tinge turned a deep red, her warm skin grew hot and her quiet mewls erupted into louder cries. She shifted with a moan when he stopped to rub the abused mounds. After soothing the sting, he gave her time to adjust to the soreness by palming the plump curve of one crimson cheek. She had a perfect shaped ass with soft, malleable buttocks that had clenched with each spank then softened as she adjusted to the pain. Then she shifted again, lifting into his hand, and he barely heard another whispered entreaty of ‘please’ that drew his eyes to her glistening seam. “You continue to surprise me, darlin’.”
Sydney whipped her face around, shaking her hair out of her drenched eyes. “Does that mean…”
Caden squeezed her buttock and drew a yelp from her by delivering a final, blistering swat. “You’re new to this and don’t realize how sore you’ll be. Sit up.” Her face mirrored the color of her ass, but it was the blatant need reflected in her dilated eyes that tempted him to change the tone of this lesson and reward her, and that would not do. His actions were meant as a deterrent, not a pleasurable interlude. “Next time you disobey a rule, you’ll get a taste of my belt.” Ignoring the desire to sink his fingers between those enticing, plump, damp folds, he stood her up and pulled up her panties and jeans. Standing, he lowered his Stetson and headed to the door, saying without looking back, “I have work to do.”
Connor stood waiting for him by the corral when he stepped outside, a knowing grin playing around his mouth as he handed Caden the reins to his steed. “Not a word, got it?” Caden snapped in warning.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, brother.”

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Learn more about BJ Wane

I live in the Midwest with my husband and our dog, a lovable Great Pyrenees/Standard Poodle.  I love dogs, enjoy spending time with my daughter, babysitting dogs and kids, reading and working puzzles.  We have traveled extensively throughout the states, Canada and just once overseas, but I now prefer being a homebody.  I worked for a while writing articles for a local magazine but soon found my interest in writing for myself peaking.  My first book was strictly spanking erotica, but I slowly evolved to writing erotic spanking romance with a touch of suspense.  My favorite genre to read is suspense.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bj.wane
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/BJWaneAuthor
Blog: http://bjwane.blogspot.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/bj_wane
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3420232
Email: bjwane@cox.net


 

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