AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Rory studies me. Heat rises to my cheeks and I focus on eating my dinner.
“You want to cede control,” Rory says eventually.
“No, I….”
“Yes, you do,” he interrupts, cutting off my protest. “All this resistance, denying the spark between us, that was all because you want me to strip away your choices.”
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “I don’t.”
Rory arches an eyebrow at me.
“So, tell me, sweetheart, how did you feel earlier when I spanked you?”
I gnaw on my bottom lip, really not wanting to answer. Rory leans back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest, and says nothing. Eventually, I can’t bear the tension that builds and I have to speak.
“It hurt. I was humiliated.”
“And?” Rory prompts.
Showing no mercy, he doesn’t take his eyes off me. He’s going to make me say it.
“I was aroused,” I admit.
A wicked grin spreads across Rory’s face.
“You were drenched, sweetheart. I knew that wasn’t a purely physical response. Your body wanted me, but your mind did, too.”
“Perhaps.” I spear a piece of broccoli with my fork and stuff it into my mouth, chewing angrily. “So what happens now?”
“Now, we finish our meal, enjoy some ice cream for dessert, and then go upstairs and find out just how much you crave my control.”
He flashes me a wink that reminds me of the Irish charmer I first met at a wedding almost a year ago. All objections I harbored melt away. Whatever he wants to do to me, I’m going to let him. The worst of it is I’ll probably enjoy every minute of it.
CHAPTERNINE
Rory
GettingEleanor to admit she wants me feels like the sweetest victory. A part of me wants to drag her straight upstairs to my room, but now that we’ve got some of the bullshit out of the way, there’s no need to rush.
We finish the incredible meal she cooked and I go to the freezer to search for some ice cream.
“Salted caramel or chocolate cookie crunch?” I ask, holding up two tubs.
“A little of both, please.”
“Good choice.”
I get a couple of bowls from the cupboard and find an ice cream scoop among the utensils in a drawer by the sink. I serve up our dessert and put the tubs back in the freezer while Eleanor clears the dishes from the table.
“Leave those on the counter,” I tell her. “Janice will do them in the morning.”
Eleanor hesitates, obviously not liking the idea of leaving work for someone else to do, but as I head back to the table with our ice cream, she follows me.
“How come you got more than me?” she grumbles as she digs her spoon into her bowl.
“Because I’m the man of the house and I’m a sexist pig.”
“Are you?”
