Transgressions by Carolyn Faulkner (thriller books to read .TXT) 📗

Enzo kept her there through three more amazingly explosive orgasms, then flipped her over and beneath him, reaching down to release himself only seconds before driving into her, in real danger of losing control of himself before he found his goal. The moment he fully laid claim to her, he lost it, himself. Watching her come like that was something he'd never forget. He wanted it to be like that for her every single time, and he usually got exactly what he wanted, one way or the other.

He screamed her name when he came—not what he'd planned to do, but that was what happened. Neither of them mentioned it in the aftermath as he cradled her against him.

"What do you have to snack on? I'm hungry."

Food was the last thing on Ally's mind, but she tried to sit up a little more—not that he was letting her—and think. "I have bagel chips and cream cheese, tortilla chips and a very good salsa, uh, peanut butter and chocolate ice cream."

He was panting at everything she'd mentioned almost as hard as he did while making love to her.

Was that what they were doing? Making love? she wondered. Or were they just 'bosses with benefits'?

She didn't feel like pursuing that line of thought at all. He had reacted so eagerly to what she'd listed, she asked, "So, everything?"

Enzo nodded eagerly.

Ally reached for her clothes, but he began to tug them away from her. "You're too beautiful to wear clothes."

He didn't look at all happy at her derisive snort, or at the fact that she was still holding on to her end. "Drop. Them." He enunciated frighteningly carefully, and while his eyes bore into hers, full of the promise that she'd soon be holding an entirely different end if she didn't stop being so willful.

Her fingers released them long before her mind told them to. Her mind wanted to argue with him. Her bottom—still more tingly than stingy, but she knew that could change on a moment's notice—didn't, and her fingers sided with her behind, apparently as her clothes fell from her hands and she turned to get them a nosh.

After they'd sated themselves—or rather, he'd sated her yet again by refusing to allow her to feed herself, but instead keeping her on his lap and feeding her from his hand. He'd thought she might object to that, and he would have to give her a lesson in obedience, but she surprised him by relaxing in his arms with her head on his chest and letting him feed her what he would.

She did, however, refuse to eat any more, long before he would have stopped offering. "If I keep eating like this, I'll get fatter than I already am."

"You are gorgeous," Enzo said in a manner that did not invite discussion.

And he was already getting heartily sick of her derisive snort, especially when it called into question his good taste and her looks, so instead of letting her leave him to take their leavings back to the kitchen, he caught one of her wrists and removed the bowls and bags from the other one to set them on the coffee table. Then he gave one good tug and forced her off balance in a manner that he controlled completely so that she landed directly over his lap.

"Hey! This isn't right!" she complained loudly, trying to get up.

"Stop." One word. It was all he needed to say. Ally ceased struggling immediately, recognizing the vulnerability of her position, especially since she was still naked.

His palm took up residence over the fullest curve of her bottom.

"It occurs to me that we have several things we need to discuss."

She'd thought he was one of those men who didn't like to talk! Her heavy, put upon sigh didn't earn her points, but rather a stinging smack that had her humiliating herself by yelping.

"Firstly, I won't put up with talk like that."

She was smart enough not to pretend she didn't know to what he was referring.

"Secondly, I want you to know that, since we'll be sleeping together this evening, I expect you to be there in the bed, next to me, when I get up."

Ally couldn't suppress a soft chuckle. Putting one over on Enzo Matroni wasn't an easy thing for anyone to do, but she'd done it. Her sense of self-satisfaction was well worth the series of swats he gave her.

Sort of.

"How'd you do it?"

"Do what?" she asked innocently, not all that interested in telling him how she'd accomplished it, in case she needed to do it again.

No response except by that unbelievably hard hand of his, relentlessly delivering vicious smack after vicious smack until she practically screamed it. "I borrowed the Wellington's skiff and crossed the lake to Mendleson's!"

Instead of stopping, the spanking picked up pace in both frequency and intensity of swats as he realized how much danger she'd put herself in that night, just to get away from him. "Do you mean to tell me that you crossed the lake by yourself, in the middle of the night, without anyone knowing you were out there if something had happened?"

Oy. Ally bit her lip. Serious tactical error on her part—she didn't usually make them, but she didn't think so well around him—never had, and it seemed to have gotten worse since they'd become intimate. Much worse, and it always seemed to result in her getting into trouble.

Besides, at the time, all she'd wanted to do was to get away from him, and she'd accomplished her goal.

But she wasn't at all sure it was worth it, considering the fire he lit and fanned the flames of in her backside. She kicked, she twisted, she tried to rise up, but he ruthlessly suppressed every attempt to stop the spanking and made sure her bottom didn't miss a painful beat. Despite how mortifying it was to her, he managed to reduce her to abject tears in a very