I can’t think of Eve, can’t compare her.

I was a different man then.

I haven’t been with a woman since… I can’t think of it. If I do, I won’t go through with this, and I need this. We both do.

All this time, I was mired in grief and pain, and this gorgeous woman’s been right under my nose. But I didn’t see her, then. I couldn’t see anything but darkness and pain. I’m not sure what’s changed.

I take her hand and walk her to my room.

“A drink?” I offer.

“Aye, bring the bottle,” she mutters.

She sounds a little nervous, jittery. And for the first time, a little voice in my mind whispers, Good.

I’m glad she’s afraid.

It’s far too dangerous for her if she isn’t, if she thinks I’m one of the good guys.

It’s better for her if she fears me. If she knew what I’ve done, what I’m capable of, she might run. She can’t get too close to me. If she fell for my seduction, I could harm her.

But hell, I want this woman.

We pour Jameson into shot glasses in silence. Holding each other’s gazes, we each drink a shot.

Then another.

Then another.

I take her shot glass out of her hand, slide it on the bedside table, then go to draw her onto my lap.

To my surprise, she pushes me away. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m too heavy to sit on your lap.”

I frown at her. Women are literally crazy about this one thing.

“You are not.” I reach for her hair, weave my fingers through the tangled waves that have come loose, and pull her head back. “I don’t ever want to hear you say anything like that again.”

I pull her onto my lap, and she pushes my hand away, but I cuff her wrist with my fingers and restrain her.

Before she can respond, I kiss her. Our mouths part and she’s moaning, or maybe I am. I’ve lost track of where her breath begins and mine ends. She tastes seductive and sweet, like cream-laced berries, and the soft, sensual feel of her mouth with mine makes me hard. She squirms on my lap, resisting, but I know it isn’t because she doesn’t want this. She truly thinks she’s too heavy.

Megan’s curvy and voluptuous, an Irish Marilyn Monroe, but hell I fucking love her full, voluptuous figure.

“Carson,” she pants when we stop kissing for a moment. “I may need another drink.”

“You have another drink, you won’t leave here tonight.”

She bites her lip, and my dick grows hard just watching her. She makes her decision. “I can deal with that.”

I pour her another shot, and one for me. Holding my gaze, she swigs it. I join her.

“Okay,” she says with a nod, like she’s just decided to take up a new hobby or go back to school. “And now I’m ready… I think.”

I grin at her. “Ready for what?”

She swallows hard. “My—my spanking. You said you were—”

But I don’t need her to finish. She’s given me the green light.

Wordlessly, I reach for the zipper of her dress.

“No!” she says. She grabs my wrist to stop me.

“No what?” I frown at her, while I detach her fingers from my wrist. Oh, no, we don’t play that way.

“You can’t… you can’t take my clothes off.”

I look at her in total shock. I can’t take her clothes off? How does she think two people are supposed to fuck?

“Are we on two different pages here?” I ask, unable to keep my voice from being harsh, stern.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I came here for a reason tonight and hoped that you would, too?”

“Which was…” I prompt. “Tell me the reason.”

She smiles, swallows hard, then says all in a rush, “One-night stand.”

Okay, so that’s step one.

“Aye. Then how do you propose we do that with your clothes on?”

“In the dark,” she says, her eyes wide and bright with conviction. “Under the covers.”

“No,” I tell her. “You’re not hiding from me.”

She opens her mouth to protest again, but I hold my finger to her lips.

“Do you trust me?”

She shouldn’t. She sure as fucking hell shouldn’t.

But still, she nods her head.

“Good,” I say with approval. “Now take off your dress and put yourself over my knee for your spanking.”Chapter 4MeganThis can’t be happening.

I’m absolutely, positively, plastered. The words he’s saying are far off in the distance, and yet at the same time, they’re somehow magnified. Everything’s heightened. My pulse races, my body trembles, and my thighs clench together of their own accord at the hard sound of his voice.

I feel like I’ve been seduced by Superman.

By the dark-haired, dominant, kinky as fuck, stern sex god of a man who’s fooled everyone with his wire-rimmed glasses and studious drive for perfection. He’s Clark Kent come to life. I take those glasses off, and he becomes a god-like superhero.

Oh, I am so totally off my fucking nut.

Tags: Jane Henry Dangerous Doms Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net