Sweet Surrender (9 page)

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Authors: Maddie Taylor

BOOK: Sweet Surrender
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They both turned to stare at the smoking lasagna, trying to assess the damage. “Is it ruined, do you think?”

He took a step closer. “Nope, it looks good to me. The cheese is a perfect golden brown. I think the smoke was from the sauce overflowing. You’ve got a big mess on your hands. Next time, if you put the dish on a baking sheet, it will catch the drips. “

She tilted her head, staring at him in surprise. “What do you know about cooking? I thought you were a takeout kind of guy.”

“I’m Italian,
bella
. We know about splattering tomato sauce and bubbly cheese.”

“Hmm… I use a drip pan ordinarily, I must have been distra—” She caught herself before she finished that word.

“Distracted?” He grinned as she groaned. Tossing aside the towel, he hauled her back into his arms. “Dare I hope that you were preoccupied with a really good daydream about me?”

“If you’re in it, it’s always a really good dream.”

“What about early on, when I was giving you shit or teasing you all the time?”

“Oh, well, back then, you were still a distraction, but mostly a pain in my ass.”

Laughing, he dipped his face into her neck and kissed her until she giggled. He’d found her ticklish spot. His hand wandered to her bottom where he gave her a light swat. She yelped in surprise.

“Let’s get this dished up. I’m starved.”

Disappointment swept through her as he released her, grabbed the basket of bread from the counter, and disappeared into the dining area off the kitchen. Did he have an off switch or something? He was kissing her, his hands stoking the flames until she was ready to explode, then nada. He turned off the heat and said he was hungry, or it was late and they had to work early, or gave her a brotherly peck on the cheek and left her wanting. Muttering to herself about rumors being more fiction that fact, she yanked on her oven mitts, grabbed a spatula along with the messy lasagna pan, and followed him in.

Throughout dinner, he made small talk, complimenting her cooking, speculating about the recent change in hospital administration, the weather… Yes, of all things, the weather!

“What’s going on here?” she demanded as she put down her fork with a decisive clink.

Glancing up, he arched a brow and answered, “Dinner,” before forking up another bite of pasta.

She glowered at him. No way was he that obtuse. Just in case she was wrong, she decided to be blunt. “I’m not sure of the game plan here. Are we friends? Are you trying to prove a point? Or have you decided you don’t want in my pants anymore?”

He choked; coughing and wheezing followed as he reached for his wine glass. Obviously, dry red wasn’t the best thing to use for washing down shock because he coughed and wheezed more before reaching for her water and chugging it. She sat up straight, evaluating him closely. He was still moving air so the Heimlich maneuver wasn’t necessary, yet.

When he settled and was breathing normally once more, wiping his watery eyes with his napkin, guilt flooded through her for startling him so. She arched both brows at him. “Are you okay?”

“Aside from aspirating pasta into my lungs, yes.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you so suddenly, but I’d like to know what we’re doing here.”

“Jessie,” he began, still sounding raspy and strained. He took another sip of water and cleared his throat. When he was able to continue, his voice was low and smooth once again. “I thought I was clear from the beginning,
cara,
that I wanted us to go slow.”

“Yes, I remember you saying that six weeks ago, to what end?”

“Pardon me?”

“It’s obviously not sex. You could have gotten some already, more than some, as a matter of fact. Therefore, I’m trying to figure out what’s in it for you. Do you have a bet going with someone? How long you can string along the fat girl until she jumps your bones?”

“Jessica.” His tone had become brittle, his words clipped. “That is quite enough. Number one, you are not fat and I don’t like to hear you talk about yourself that way. Second, this isn’t college where sophomoric men make bets about sex.”

“Well, something is going on and I’d like to be clued in as to what.”

“Is it too farfetched to believe that I like you, enjoy being with you, and that there is no nefarious underlying plot?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. Men like you don’t go for women like me unless you’re interested in a cheap fling.”

“Women like you? You mean beautiful, smart, and intelligent?”

“No, more like lower class, uncouth, and gullible.”

He stared at her, his face taking on a sad expression before he murmured at a hint above a whisper, “Who did it, Jess?”

“Did what?”

“Hurt you and blew your self-esteem all to hell?”

She bristled. “Don’t turn this around on me. What’s in this for you, Marc? I don’t have money, not that you need it. I don’t have social standing or power, and it’s obvious you don’t want to fuck me. So, I’m sorry to say I’m at a loss as to what you’re getting out of being with me.”

As she spoke, she noticed his body tensing, which should have forewarned her, but whether from bruised pride or the two wine coolers she’d had on an empty stomach, she didn’t heed the warning and boldly pressed on. She should have noticed the darkening of his face when she threw down the F-bomb, but she’d let that pass unheeded too. She couldn’t miss him standing, though, or throwing down his napkin and moving around to her side of the table.

When he grasped her wrist and pulled her out of her chair, she gasped. Finding herself belly down and ass up over his lap the next moment, she stiffened. It wasn’t until he tugged her skirt up and her panties down to mid-thigh that she cried out in alarm. “Marc!”

“You,
cara mia,
need a few lessons and starting now, I’m your teacher.” His hand came down and popped her ass with two sharp slaps. The sound bounced off the walls, echoing like gunshots.

“Wait! You can’t spank me.”

“No?” Two more loud smacks followed. “It appears that I can. You’ve had your turn to talk, spouting your nonsense. I gave you your say. Now it’s my turn.” He peppered four more across her quickly warming cheeks.

“Ow! Let me up.” She wiggled and kicked, but his strength constrained her. Ripping fabric sounded next as her legs began to flail. It was her panties, which had slipped down her legs to her ankles while she struggled. He captured them easily and pulled them all the way off. He then hooked one of his legs over both of her own, pinning her without hope of going anywhere.

“I’ll let you up when I’m finished and you’re ready to listen.” As he spoke, he rubbed her warm and tingling skin with the palm of his hand, the fingers trailing lightly for a moment.

“I’m ready now.”

“I don’t think so
.
” Low and fluid, his voice was as smooth as his gentle massage. Both were soothing, calming her and despite her inelegant position, half-naked over his knee, she relaxed beneath his hand. It was then she noticed another warmth growing rapidly between her tightly pressed thighs. Unbelievably, she was aroused. Jeez-oh-Pete, she was getting turned on by a spanking, of all things.

Just when she thought he was done and ready to move on to what she’d been longing for, he spanked her more. Sometimes two swats, other times four, but always an equal amount on each side and followed by more gentle caresses. When his fingers grazed over the tender skin of her upper thighs, moving ever closer to her center, she stiffened.

Behind her, he shifted, lessening the weight of his restraining leg. He ordered in a deep, husky voice, “Spread your legs, Jessie.”

She shook her head.

With the tip of one finger, he traced over the split of her cheeks, slowly moving down the midline until it disappeared between her thighs. “Mm… is there something here you don’t want me to see?”

Yes,
she screamed silently. He’d see that she was soaking wet because she was more aroused than she’d ever been in her life. She was also mortified.

“Spread for me, Jess.” His finger delved between her lips, searching until she clamped them tight. His soft hum of disapproval preceded a flurry of spanks on her lower cheeks, at the curve where her bottom met her upper thighs. It stung more there and he set up a fiery heat across both legs before he paused. “I don’t like repeating instructions any more than I like hearing you put yourself down. Open. Now.”

Her pussy and ass were alive with sensation. Unsure whether from the spanks, or the caresses, or if it was all Marc, she was powerless to resist any further. Ever so slightly, her thighs parted.

“That’s my girl, but I want them spread wide apart, enough for me to get more than a fingertip in your pussy.” His husky growl made her heart race, his commanding tone and graphic words robbing her of free will. She shifted, separating her legs several inches this time and his disapproving hum changed to one of appreciation when he found her wet with arousal. Immediately, her obedience was rewarded as his finger slid lower and rubbed lightly across her clit. A cry of delight filled the air, becoming low groans of ecstasy when his broad finger circled her center and slid slowly inside.


Cara mia,
” he growled in response. “You, my love, are the distraction.”

Ever so slowly, his finger began to glide in and out. His touch stoked the fire within her, like a gentle breeze fanning the flames to keep it burning rather than a rapid gust of wind, which could put it out all too soon. As he continued, he added a second finger. “Let’s get a few things straight.” His tone was low and steady, almost instructive in nature. Then, like one of her professors, he began to lecture.

“First, I am with you because you are a beautiful, sexy, intelligent woman who is a joy to be with when you’re not being paranoid and suspicious. Second, I don’t have a hidden agenda. As I told you before, I’m not a kid anymore and although I’ve played the field for some time, I have been searching for someone special. I’ve been thinking in the past few weeks I may have found her. As far as getting into your pants, I’d like that a hell of a lot, but that’s not what we’re about yet. I wanted to prove that to you by not jumping in bed with you right out of the gate. Finally, I don’t know what bullshit you have in your head about social and financial classes, but for me, that’s exactly what it is, bullshit. You’re not a gold digger, not by a long shot. As a professional in a respected field, you’re making your own way, have clearly worked hard to get where you are, and can take pride in your accomplishments. All of this, I like very much, except for one thing.”

His fingers withdrew suddenly and his palm went back into action, landing swat after stinging swat upon her upturned ass. It was quick and so blazing in intensity that Jessie lost count. Was it ten, twelve, maybe twenty? Whatever the number, by the time it was over, her ass was blazing hot. She imagined steam rising from it and wondered about the state of his palm. Suddenly, she found herself upright and learned the answer to her question as his spanking hand cupped her chin. It was warm, though it had nowhere near the level of heat he’d ignited on her bottom. He tilted her face up and his eyes, flashing with emotion, captured and held her gaze.

“I don’t like the put-downs, the self-deprecation, and the criticism. I won’t have it, Jess, and if you do it when you’re with me, you’ll find yourself bare-assed and over my knee for another lesson. You are not fat; you’re lush. I like curves on a woman, that means tits and ass, which makes for a nice soft armful I can curl up with and sink into. Now that you know where I’m coming from, are there any more questions?”

“No, Marc.”

“Do you understand that I’m not playing games?”

“Yes, I understand you’re very serious.”

He helped her to stand. “Good, then strip for me and prove that you do.”

“What?”

“Show me your beauty. I’ve told you repeatedly how much I love your curves, your rounded breasts and full ass. You have to know because I can’t keep my hands off you. Right now, as part of your lesson, I want you naked and to see yourself as I do. I want you to know how beautiful you are to me.”

“Marc,” she rasped, finding it difficult to breathe at the beauty of his words.

“Do it. Strip for me,
bella mia
. Prove to yourself how beautiful you are.”

His intense gaze met hers in challenge. Waiting patiently, he didn’t make a move to help, leaving it all up to her. She bit her lip with indecision.

“What are you waiting for, baby?”

She released her tortured flesh and her lips parted. Taking a steadying breath, her fingers rose to the small, fabric-covered buttons of her blouse. Her hands trembled slightly under his scrutiny as he followed her movements, the heat of desire she saw gleaming in his dark eyes gave her confidence. She made quick work of the half-dozen buttons, shrugging the silky fabric from her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, the front-hook lace bra following shortly behind.


Sei bellissima
,” he growled, his hands reaching for her hips, sliding under her short skirt and pulling her onto his lap. Jessie went eagerly, her hands cupping his jaw as she angled her head and lowered her mouth to his slightly parted lips. Feeling bold in spite of the burn his denim-covered thighs caused as they chafed her bare bottom, she dipped her tongue between his lips. He tasted of sweet basil from the sauce and of the red wine he’d had at dinner. Underneath, she discerned the special flavor that was all Marc. Purring with pleasure, she slid her hands into the waves of his thick hair to keep him close, never wanting to let him go.

That was all he needed before he took charge of the kiss, in command of himself, and of her, as usual. She didn’t care, melting into him and surrendering to the pleasure of his mouth. Her arousal reached fever pitch as his lips possessed her, his tongue claiming her, his hands, eager in their perusal of her body, finding the warm and still tingling cheeks of her ass. He shifted her easily until she straddled his thighs.

Writhing against him, she was acutely aware of her near nakedness in contrast to his fully clothed form. It only heightened her arousal, making her ache with need. She didn’t think she could take any more of his sensual torture and asked—no, she begged—for him to ease her, to make it stop the only way possible.

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