Saturday Spankings TAMING HER #eroticromance #spankingromance #BDSM #newrelease

 

Welcome to Saturday Spankings, here's a few from my latest release TAMING HER.

ABOUT

When they were still in college, Ava Sontag ran away from her feelings for Griffin Dix. It was the biggest mistake of her life, and she thought she would never see him again. Until today...

Today he put her in handcuffs.

He's a police officer now and she's under arrest, but he's not bringing her back to the station.

After watching Ava put herself at risk with self-destructive behavior twice in one day, Griffin has decided that drastic action is warranted. She is coming home with him whether she likes it or not, and once there she will be taken in hand and given the stern correction she clearly needs.

But Griffin is planning to do much more than just bare Ava's bottom and spank her soundly. She is going to find out just how much desperately intense pleasure a dominant man can wring from her naked, helplessly bound body, and when he is done with her she will be well and truly tamed.

Ava chopped tomatoes and tossed them into a green salad.

Griff was outside lighting a gas barbeque he’d bought online.

She smiled; he’d been excited about its arrival, never having owned one before. They were going to cook steaks and sausages to christen it.

She reached for another juicy tomato—Griff’s neighbor had dropped off a homegrown pile—and sliced it. Contentment had washed over her the last few days. Being at the cottage instilled a holiday feeling. The sun shone from dawn till dusk, and the surroundings were picture perfect.

Griff was also pretty damn easy on the eye and since that first kiss, he had been more affectionate, though still stern. At least she hadn’t had to go over his knee again. Her bottom had taken a nice break from his palm.

A tune she remembered from two years ago came on the radio. A happy song about sand, sea, and sangria. It reminded her of being in Ibiza with Mel. They’d had a wild time, partied all night, slept on the beach all day. They’d hooked up with some posh lads from Chelsea who’d had limitless credit cards and were happy to take them to all the best clubs to dance to the best DJ tunes.

She sang along, swaying her hips. Suddenly she was back there in the disco lights, her head spinning, the beat of the music thumping through her chest like a pulse. It had been great... the best.

Licking her lips, she could taste the cocktails, the champagne, the wine.

Mmm, that was what she needed now. A glass of wine.

She glanced at Griff. He was still fiddling with his new toy.

A few days ago she’d spotted a bottle of red wine at the back of a cupboard. With a splash of lemonade it would be perfect with their meal—homemade sangria.

She tossed the last of the tomatoes into the salad, then stooped into the cupboard and retrieved the wine. Griff would complain, of course he would, harp on about her getting healthy. But he had to lighten up. She had no intention of being teetotal forever.

And it had been ages.

She set two glasses on the island beside the salad and poured a couple of inches of the Shiraz into each. She then popped the ring pull on a can of lemonade and filled them up. Perhaps she should chop some fruit to add to the authenticity.

A shadow stretched onto the floor.

She looked up.

Griff was standing at the end of the island. His chino shorts sat low on his hips, a brown leather belt holding them there. His chest was bare, his shoulders glistening where the sun had been shining on his smooth flesh.

He glared at her. “What the hell are you doing?”

A rush of heat flared on her temples, spreading over her scalp. Her heart skipped a beat. “Just... making us a drink.” She shrugged, going for nonchalance.

“With wine?”

“Yes, only a splash.”

“You’re not drinking at the moment, Ava. You know the rules.” He tilted his chin, his eyes piercing hers.

Her jaw clenched as irritation took hold. “It’s a sunny day, I’m in a holiday mood. I want a glass of sangria.” She lifted one of the glasses and watched the light refract through the ruby liquid.

“Put. That. Down.” His voice was low and rasping.

“You need to lighten up, Griff.” Her mouth watered for the taste of the drink. There was a party here that needed to get started.

“I do not need to lighten up. I need you to do as you’re told.”

His tone irked her—so damn dictatorial. What was he going to do if she drank the sangria? Spank her? Yes, probably, but it would be worth it, and if she drank enough she might not feel it.

“I’m warning you, Ava. Do not take one sip.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Really?” He set his hands on the island, fists clenched, and hunched forward. “Is that what you honestly think?”

He looked like a giant, his face dark and menacing.

Well, she’d show him. She wasn’t scared. She’d do what the heck she wanted. She was an adult living in a free country.

She raised the glass to her lips. The sweet scent caught in her nostrils. She held his gaze. His eyes narrowed.

She took a sip. Her ass tingled—her body seeming to know what was coming. Oh, but the drink was divine. Fresh, cold, and fruity and as it sat on her tongue she was back in Ibiza.

But one sip was all she got. The glass was snatched from her hand and thrown into the sink.

It smashed with a loud, shocking crash.

The second glass joined it. Scarlet drips showering upward then raining over the white enamel and broken shards.

Ava gasped and scooted to the other end of the island. Her stomach clenched and a shot of adrenaline whooshed into her system.

He chased her, his jaw clamped.

But she was fast, and slipped farther away, sliding her hand over the granite and keeping the island between them. A barrier. She’d bet he wouldn’t jump over it to grab her. “Come here,” he demanded gruffly from the other side.

“No.”

“I mean it.” Fury dripped from every word. “Come here.”

“So you can spank me?” She shifted left then right, trying to judge which way he’d chase. “Not likely.”

“Too damn right I’m going to punish your naughty ass. You won’t sit down for a week.”

“Week, I won’t be here that long.” She really couldn’t be. She had to get out of the cottage. Flee back to Bristol. He was a madman. This had gone too far.

He rushed to the left.

She flew to the right and found the door to the hallway within reach. Quickly she raced toward it; she’d pelt along the drive, get out onto the road and escape.

She made it a full five paces before he wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her into the air, slamming her back against his chest. “You annoying little brat.”

“Big bastard. Get off me.” She tried to peel his fingers from her arms. “I mean it. Get off.” 

“Why would you try and sabotage all we’ve achieved this week?” he snapped by her ear.

“We? Where did me going on a health kick have anything to do with you?” Still she writhed but his arms were a vise. There was no escape.

“Since you gave me permission to make it my business.” He hauled her to the table. Plonked her at the end with her feet facing it, then shoved at her shoulders. “Bend over.”

“No!”

But she didn’t have a choice. He flattened her to the surface and kept one hand squarely between her shoulder blades exerting a strong pressure to keep her there.

“Griff!” She twisted her neck to glare at him.

“Keep still.” He flicked her short dress upward, exposing her knickers. “Or I swear I’ll tie you to this damn table.”

Shit. He was serious, she could tell by the glint in his eyes.

Oh, what had she done? She’d pushed him way too far. Just because he’d been gentle and almost sweet the last few days she never should have forgotten that he was a stern, rule-obsessed dominant.

He dragged at her small cotton panties, pushing them roughly down to her knees.

She wriggled, trying to slide to the right and escape. All that happened was the panties fell to her ankles, pooling there in a tangle.

“Last chance. Keep still or I’ll tie you up.” Using his free hand he released his belt buckle. After sliding the leather from the metal he tugged the length from the loops.

“What... what are you doing?”

“I’m giving your brain something else to associate with drinking.” A tendon jerked in his cheek as he folded the belt in half and gripped the buckle end.

Fuck. He’s going to thrash me with that.

Before Ava could make a last effort to wriggle free, he’d pinned her in place again. A real sense of doom went through her. This was going to hurt... bad. Much worse than his hand.

“I suspect you’re thinking this is going to sting,” he said. “You’d be right. It will.”

“So leave me alone. I’m sorry, okay?”

For a split second his face softened. She saw Griff, not her nemesis, and remembered how amazing he could make her feel when he fucked her, when he was tender with her.

Her pussy quivered, a strange combination of fear and being turned on by him. He was like no other man she’d ever encountered, unrecognizable from the teen she’d strung along years ago.

Now he was the one stringing her along. She craved him, his attention, and his affection.

And then his focus shifted from her face to her ass. “Six strikes. You can count them.” “No, please.”

But it was useless; he drew his hand back, the leather loop menacing as he held it in the air.

She screwed up her eyes, waiting for impact.

To find out how Ava copes with her punishment...

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