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WITH HER PULSE RACINGand her knees weak, Emma leaned against him for support, closing her eyes as he slid down the zipper at the back of her dress.
“What a naughty girl, no underwear,” he softly scolded, lifting the skirt and smoothing his hand over her naked backside.
“It’s a surprise for you, Sir.”
“Good answer. Kick off your shoes.”
Using him for support, her heart thumping and her goosebumps popping, she pushed off her high-heeled sandals.
“I’m going to sit on the edge of the bed, and you will—very slowly—remove your dress.”
Placing his hands on her shoulders he languidly kissed her, then sat down and looked up at her expectantly.
Though her pulse was racing and her butterflies were wildly fluttering, Emma was in heaven. She’d imagined the simple fantasy for years, and he’d said and done all the right things, even the kiss before he sat down. Staring into his eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest, and as she took hold of the shoulder straps, she had only one thought.
I’m dreaming, and I never want to wake up.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
AS EMMA FINISHED HERsensuous, slow striptease, Zach instructed her to stand in front of him with her legs spread and her eyes closed. Every nerve in her body was sparking, and as he lightly rubbed her clit, she couldn’t suppressed a long, low moan.
“Do you know what they say about an ounce of prevention?” he asked, taking hold of her wrists.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me.”
“An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”
“That’s what you need. An ounce of prevention. A spanking every Sunday night at nine-o’clock should keep you in line for the rest of the week,” he exclaimed, abruptly yanking her across his lap eliciting a squeal. “What do you say about that, young lady?”
“Yes, Sir,” she gasped. “If you say so, Sir.”
“I do. That will be a standing appointment, or should I say, an over my knee appointment.”
