Tristan's Temptation by Sabrina York Page A

her since Friday. He needed to bring her along in this raging desire. Draw her closer to the insanity he felt, secure her in his world so she couldn’t slip away again—could never, would never, show up on a date with another man, for Christ’s sake.
    What he wanted, rather desperately, was to stake his claim.
    His mind flew through his options and suddenly it dawned on him.
    He knew how to capture her.
    He knew exactly what to do.
    He pulled back and frowned at her. Sternly.
    “I was furious when you told me you had a date tonight. You should have told me it was with a friend.”
    “You didn’t ask,” she responded playfully. Then again, she hadn’t yet realized where this was going.
    He narrowed his eyes. “You knew what I would assume.”
    “I have no idea what you mean.” She tried to turn away. He stopped her.
    “Really? Do you know what I think?”
    “What?”
    “I think you were trying to make me jealous. Were you?”
    She fixated on the little crocodile on the left breast of his shirt. “Maybe.”
    “You don’t think that was a naughty thing to do?” Her gaze rocketed back to his and her dainty little nostrils flared as comprehension dawned. “You don’t think I have a right to be angry?”
    “I—”
    “No.” He cut her off. “No excuses. Was it a naughty thing to do? Yes or no.”
    “Yes?”
    “Are you asking me a question or are you telling me a fact?”
    “Yes. It was a terribly naughty thing to do, but—”
    “Ah!” He halted her words with a finger to her lips. “Then you agree, you should have a spanking.” It wasn’t really a question but he waited for her answer. It was difficult to wait because she was getting nervous and restless, which meant she was fidgeting and tugging at her lip with her teeth, and, frankly, both of those moves inflamed the predator in him.
    “I suppose.”
    “No. You don’t suppose. The answer is yes or no.”
    “Yes.” A whisper.
    She didn’t meet his eyes when she said it so he tipped her chin up. “What? I didn’t hear you.”
    “Yes.” She stared at him. Her lips trembled. “I should have a spanking.”
    Sharp satisfaction sliced through him and he dropped her chin. His cock twitched in anticipation. In a moment he was going to have Shannon Weiss draped across his lap with her skirt up, with her panties down around her knees.
    Frankly, he couldn’t wait.

Chapter Eight
     
    Shannon stared at Tristan as an unholy hunger welled within her. The thought of his hand coming down, hard and masterful on her ass, sent a wet gush of slick cream sluicing through her pussy. She shivered as she pressed her thighs together. Her clit throbbed. Her mouth went dry. She could barely look at him.
    “Come here,” he commanded in a hard voice and she complied. He led her to the sofa. He sat and patted his lap. Obediently, she draped herself over his thighs, quivering with anticipation. He flipped her skirt up, baring her ass to his view. “Mmm.” He drew his palm over the tight curves, tracing the edge of her panties across her lower back. “Take them off,” he rasped.
    She glanced up at him. His features were tight, laced with desire. Quivering, she slipped her panties down to her knees. His reaction quick and hard—a sudden, turgid swell against her left hip. He jerked her closer until she was fully on his lap, pressing against his cock. It was hot and thick, rigid and throbbing. He surged against her.
    He returned his attention to her bare ass, squeezing and caressing those quaking globes. “God, you’re gorgeous.” He stroked her reverently.
    And then his hand fell.
    She cried out at the first smack. It was harder than she’d anticipated and it shot through her like a bullet of lust. She moaned and buried her face in her arms. It felt incredible. Better than she’d ever imagined. His hand fell again and again and her ass began to heat under the endless barrage. The warmth coursed through her. Waves and tingles resonated from her throbbing clit