Transgressions, Carolyn Faulkner [black female authors .txt] 📗

leaned back enough to be able to look into her eyes. Her mouth was hanging open just a bit until she realized that it was and snapped it shut. Her cheeks were blushing almost as brightly as her butt was going to if she defied him.

"Nod your head so that I know you understood what I just said to you."

Unable to think of doing anything else, Ally automatically bobbed her head. Her mind was in such a jumble—his nearness was bad enough, but for him to say those things to her, putting images into her mind that made her blush all the brighter because they were far from new to her. Nowadays, they were tucked well back in her brain, only dragged out when she was feeling lonely and horny and she did her level best to keep herself busy enough that it didn't happen very often anymore.

But it used to, when she was a lady of leisure, a pampered and indulged daughter of the most powerful don in the city.

Son of a bitch. She wanted to stomp her foot—bringing her four-inch heel down on his instep came to mind—but she knew that would just get her into more trouble and she certainly didn't want to provoke him into spanking her here and now. The threat he had just made was mortifying enough. She'd never expected that kind of thing from him. She'd thought he'd give her a good talking to, perhaps even take out a man or two to show her what he was capable of—not that she didn't already know.

Had he really just kissed her breathless, then had the audacity to threaten to spank her if she disobeyed him?

Chapter 2

And now, more years later than she'd like to count, having gotten a bit complacent and glossed blithely over that conversation in her mind, letting Frank's surprising insistence about what an opportunity this would be for them convince her of something that she knew to be patently untrue. Enzo never missed a trick. Ever. She'd been able to convince herself, somehow, through the blessing—or curse—of time that he hadn't really been serious, when, if she'd thought about what she knew of him at all, she would have known that he never said anything he didn't mean. So, here she was, and she knew exactly what she had coming to her. She knew he was seconds away from tipping her over. Balanced, as she was, on his muscular leg, it would be depressingly easy for him to manipulate her so that it was her stomach in contact with his leg rather than her lady bits.

And she really had no one to blame but herself. It might have been Frank's idea, but she was the boss, and it was her decision. She should be the one to bear the consequences, and it looked like that was going to manifest itself quite literally.

When it happened, it was as if it was in slow motion, no matter his ease in accomplishing it. Ally's mind simply couldn't begin to process the fact that he was actually doing it. There was a chair right directly behind him that she hadn't noticed because his presence blocked it, but in one fluid motion, he both tipped her over and sat down, so that she ended up over both of his legs. Before she got a chance to gather her wits, she felt an uncommon breeze on the backs of her thighs that quickly extended up and over her bottom. The cause of the draft was the fact that he had swept the pretty floral skirt she'd thrown on this morning up around her waist, then hooked a finger under the waistband of her tights and peeled those down to the tops of her calves, expertly catching her boy briefs on the way down so that she was left naked to his gaze—and his hand, which came to rest possessively over the rounded flesh he'd just uncovered.

Ally wasn't the type to take such things lying down—so to speak—warning or no warning. And her efforts were very nearly rewarded the first time she tried to get up, rearing back and surprising him, which was darned near unheard of. Enzo had a reputation for preparing for any eventuality, but he hadn't anticipated just how hard this little wildcat fought the application of a sentence he considered completely just and that she had been amply warned about.

She almost made it off his lap and had her foot raised to take her first step towards freedom when he hauled her back down and lit up her fanny with ten fiercely hard swats. "Just so you know, princess, this doesn't even count towards the spanking you earned." She hated it when he called her that, as if he was dismissing her as some vapid, spoiled kid. "They're for trying to escape your punishment, pure and simple. I suggest you lie still and take what's coming to you, or it's going to end up being much worse than it might be."

"Fuck you! Let me go!" She struggled and twisted and turned until one forearm came to rest across her back, and with almost no effort on his part, she found herself almost completely unable to move, which only made her that much angrier and determined to escape. She exhausted herself trying to do so while he waited patiently for her to surrender.

When she finally hung—spent—over his lap, panting and growling, another ten or so fiery smacks landed on her upturned cheeks. "Again, not a part of your original punishment, but added because of your poor attitude and foul language. I know your parents didn't raise you to say things like that, and I don't want to hear them, either. And you definitely shouldn't be saying them when your backside is right there for me to remind you to be more conservative in your speech."

Ally frowned deeply, but considering how much her behind was already stinging, she didn't say anything. But she