Free from March 6 – 10
Is that…pleasure or pain?
Heidi is a strong, independent, professional woman—definitely not the type to fall for a macho, dominant alpha-male like her neighbor. Yet when she overhears his Mr 6F’s sensual escapades one evening, she finds herself as intrigued as she is horrified. Surely that’s not…spanking she’s hearing? She’s definitely not attracted to…whatever they’re doing. But when she has an unfortunate run-in with Mr. 6F himself, the connection is electric. To her great consternation, she finds herself imagining what it would be like to be under his authority…or bound to his bed.
Dominic thinks he’s tasted all the pleasures the lifestyle has to offer without the messy complications of an emotional connection or commitment, until he meets Heidi. The night she finally gets up the nerve to ask him to put her over his knee, he’s more than happy to oblige. This sassy, adorable woman draws out of him a desire to protect and lead, awakened with growing fervor as he introduces her to the erotic, intoxicating world of dominance and submission.
But when Heidi and Dom are thrown together in an unlikely series of events neither can control, they have to separate business from pleasure. Will the whirlwind of passion and high stakes end everything?
“Show me, baby,” he murmured. She licked her suddenly dry lips. He wanted her to strip for him? Good. Lord. She could feel a pulse low in her belly. Eyes on his, Heidi lifted her hands to the top button of her shirt and took a step toward the hall that led to his bedroom.
He moved a single step to block her path. “Right here, Heidi.”
Here? In the bright sunlight coming from the frosted glass windows?
As though he could read the questions in her mind, he repeated, “Right. Here. Right. Now.” He slowly shrugged off his suit jacket and tie, then leaned against the wall and folded his arms, watching her. If he had looked the slightest bit disinterested or aloof, if his voice had held even the slightest hint of the detachment he’d shown his other ladies, she couldn’t have done it.
But his eyes didn’t so much as flicker away from her hands as they carefully slid down the placket of her blouse, freeing each button from its buttonhole. And the tension that gripped his body belied his casual pose, as did the massive erection tenting the front of his pants. Mr. Angelico wasn’t disinterested.
“The camisole,” he rasped. Heidi was suddenly breathless. Crossing her arms in front of her stomach, she slid the edge of the silky material from beneath her skirt and slipped it up, up, up. Each inch of her belly heated as she exposed it, warmed by the blazing heat in his eyes. It glided softly over her skin, raising goose bumps, tightening her nipples to hard peaks, until she lifted her arms completely and let the material fall to the floor with a soft whoosh.
“Christ.” It was a whisper, a harsh release of breath.
Dom was breathing hard now—she could see his chest rising and falling, could almost feel the force of will required to hold him in place. Her own need was a savage thing—a clawing in her stomach stronger than anything she’d ever felt before. Still, she stood and waited for his next command.
“Skirt,” he barked, his eyes holding hers for a single blistering instant, before returning to watch her fingers work. Standing half-naked, following orders from a man who was fully dressed and thoroughly aroused, so eager to see her naked he hadn’t bothered to take the short trip to the bedroom yet, Heidi had never felt more powerful in her entire life. Every molecule of Dom’s focus, his every thought and every desire at this moment were concentrated on her, and she freakin’ loved it. There was no room for doubt or embarrassment when he looked at her that way. Heidi braced her heels further apart and reached for the closure of her skirt.
The zipper made a scratching sound as she slowly, slowly slid it down, and she could practically feel his anticipation as he waited for the skirt to fall. She hesitated a moment, deliberately holding the fabric in place, waiting for him to notice and make eye contact, thrilled when he did. With a slow smile, she let the fabric go, and felt it pool at her feet.
“Panties… slowly.” His command had arousal spiraling in her belly, made her head light and her knees weak. Hooking her fingers into the waistband, she slowly peeled the last garment she wore down her body. Once the silk had reached her ankles, she stepped out and tossed the panties aside. With knees shaking harder, she reached a hand behind her to brace herself against the door, and waited for him to speak. But he seemed to have lost the ability. He was vibrating with tension, his hands splayed out on the wall behind him in an effort to hold himself back. She waited breathlessly for him to regain control.
She saw the moment he decided to abandon this game. With a harsh indrawn breath, he took a deliberate step toward her, and then another, like an animal hunting its prey—a man pushed to the limits of civility by arousal. His hands skimmed slowly up her hip to palm her breasts, then further around to her back… then suddenly spun her around so her nipples pressed against the shockingly cold door.
“Are you my good girl?” he demanded, his hands skimming up her sides to collect her wrists and pin them to her lower back.
“Yes,” she whispered without hesitation, her body pliant as she rested her cheek against the cool wood.
“But you misbehaved, Heidi,” he said severely.
“But I thought… I thought we would work everything out? I thought we agreed…” Her thoughts had scattered like dust spiraling through the air.
“That was later. This morning, Heidi,” he reminded her, his voice a heated whisper in her ear. “You said you’d consent to punishment. You agreed.”
Heidi moaned. She needed him to touch her. She needed him to kiss her. She needed… “Heidi,” he whispered, tugging her hair in way that was too firm to be playful. That tug seemed to free her from her stupor, while it resonated all the way to her womb.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, I agreed.” And she did. She wanted that punishment. She wanted his focus and his control and his need. She wanted him.
The first slap of his hand on her bottom was a shock. The second seemed to light a fuse connected directly to her clit. The third… the third had her pushing back against him, waiting for it eagerly. And then his hand was no longer spanking her, but rubbing her bottom with slow strokes that went lower and lower and built the fire into a conflagration.
“Oh, Dom, please,” she begged, beyond caring how desperate she sounded.
“You won’t walk away again…”
Jane Henry
Jane has been writing since her early teens, dabbling in short stories and poetry. When she married and began having children, her pen was laid to rest for several years, until the National Novel Writing Challenge (NaNoWriMo) in 2010 awakened in her the desire to write again. That year, she wrote her first novel, and has been writing ever since. With a houseful of children, she finds time to write in the early hours of the morning, squirreled away with a laptop, blanket, and cup of hot coffee. Years ago, she heard the wise advice, “Write the book you want to read,” and has taken it to heart. She sincerely hopes you also enjoy the books she likes to read.
Maisy Archer
Maisy is an unabashed book nerd who has been in love with romance since reading her first Julie Garwood novel at the tender age of 12. After a decade as a technical writer, she finally made the leap into writing fiction several years ago and has never looked back. Like her other great loves – coffee, caramel, beach vacations, yoga pants, and her amazing family – her love of words has only continued to grow… in a manner inversely proportional to her love of exercise, house cleaning, and large social gatherings. She loves to hear from fellow romance lovers, and is always on the hunt for her next great read.
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