This book is rated R and is not suitable for anyone under 18 years of age, or 21 where country restrictions are different.
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by Addy Cooper
Elizabeth Radley had never been spanked in her life, simply because she had never met anyone worthy of such an important task – until one night she ends up being hauled across the firm, long thighs of the utterly charming and deliciously domineering, Tay Curtis.
After that her fate is pretty much sealed and Elizabeth embarks on a relationship with Tay, embracing not only her new life in New York but also Tay’s crazy entourage, notably: his twisted and bitter ex-girlfriend Jenny who wants her boyfriend back even if it does make her look like a whack job; Pip, her best friend and “suburban sister” who loves to invent spanking aromatherapy oils; Jake, Pip’s husband who for all his patience is teetering on the edge of believing Tay’s way is the only way and drug dependant Monica, Tay’s sister, who wants nothing more than to fill her days with daze riddled paranoia if only she could get her hands on her inheritance!
Add to that a Liverpudlian chef with an obsessive compulsive disorder and a PA who secretly has the hots for her boss and you could probably understand why Elizabeth sometimes gets herself into scrapes worthy of a good hiding.
...because sometimes it's important
New York, present day
I pulled on the shirt he had been wearing the night before and looked over at him sleeping soundly next to me, before I even attempted to get out of bed. He was so beautiful: rugged, broody but so, so beautiful that I had found myself frightened by the prospect of never forgetting his face.
Doing the two bottom buttons up on his shirt I tiptoed into the bathroom shutting the door quietly behind me and resting my head against its thick oak panelling.
He was the first ‘other’ man I’d slept with
since getting married ten years ago and in three hours time I would be single again and this had been my present to me: a single act of incompliance with my vows and something I’d neglected to tell him.
I took a deep breath. I knew I had to go, leave before he woke up: I was too vulnerable for him to leave me…but I wanted to stay...wanted this to be so real it could go on forever, even though I knew it couldn’t.
Scraping my long dark hair into a folded pony tail I stared back at my reflection in the long mirror, trying to see what he saw in me last night. He was ten years my junior, at least, and although I’d exercised like crazy over the last few years I still had the hips of a woman who had carried two children, even if they were toned up to a nice size 10. But surprisingly it hadn’t bothered him: in fact he seemed to enjoy the extra flesh; maybe from years of two many size zero girls. Still I was shocked when he flipped me over with little effort on his part and made love to me; slowly, tenderly as if it were my first time, never ever taking his eyes off me.
We ordered room service: fed strawberries to each other, drank champagne from each other’s mouths; fell asleep; woke up only to begin again.
I’d never laughed, screamed, gasped and squealed so much in my life. We broke the head off the shower and soaked the bed with champagne and ice cubes. At some point I remember him spanking me so hard I hadn’t been sure whether I was screaming from the pain or because it was turning me on. All I know is that I begged him not to, but I let him anyway and I melted across his knee, my bare bottom presented high enough for my discomfort but his convenience.