Fiori is asleep, slumped on his expensive leather sofa with his phone still gripped in his hand. I swallow hard as I shut the door as quietly as I can. He starts awake and scrubs his unshaven face with both hands before he sits up and looks at me.
“What time is it?” he asks groggily.
“Seven,” I answer and set my purse on the little table by the door.
“Seven A.M.?” His eyes clear and his mouth presses in a firm hard line. “Where the hell were you last night?” he asks, his voice stabs me right in the diaphragm and crotch.
He’s angry— blood-boiling angry. “When did you get home?”
“I walked to Fran’s after work.” I didn’t think it was possible for his eyes to burn angrier but they do. “I didn’t come home.”
“You walked at eleven at night and stayed over without bothering to tell me you weren’t coming home? You knew I was waiting for you.”
“I feel bad today, Adam. Last night I was too angry to care that you were waiting for me. Don’t push me back into pissy.” I walk briskly to the kitchen and start the coffee.
“Apparently too angry to regard your safety, too,” he adds and yanks my arm to pull me to face him. I grit my teeth and glare at his hand on my arm. His jaw looks painfully tight, as well, but I don’t back down. He releases me suddenly and gathers a breath.
“I’m going to be late for a meeting, but I’m telling you right now, this isn’t over. In fact, it isn’t even close to started!” His hand finds my chin and forces my eyes to his. “You can be mad all you want, but we both know you were wrong. My mistake came from a place of care and concern and yours was vindictive and inconsiderate.”
I swallow. Adam’s right. I swear under my breath and look away.
“That’s right, little girl, you know it too.” He stalks off, and I take a moment to breathe before continuing to make coffee. He’s back before the machine even begins to percolate. He grabs me roughly again and this time, he doesn’t release me while he opens a drawer and pulls out a wooden spoon. He pushes my front against the counter and the spoon splats against my scrub-clad bottom. The material is thin and the spoon unforgiving—full force, I’m sure. I gasp and bite my squeals, thinking of the children on the other side of the condo. My fingers turn white as I grip the counter.
“Adam, the kids!” I manage through a hissed breath, but then I’m squeezing my eyes tightly and squirming to avoid yet another punishing swat. He presses further on me to keep me still and then his hand reaches around the front of me to once again pull the string that keeps my bottoms up. I whimper and wish they wouldn’t betray me by slumping down my legs so easily—again.
“I just checked. They’re asleep.” The spoon stings and bites my flesh and I have to lower my mouth to my forearm to cry out into it. I can’t wake the kids. I try to drop to avoid another punishing swat, but when I do, he pins me tighter. His swats increase and I start to sob dryly. He tosses the spoon in the sink and straightforwardly pulls my pants up. He spins me to face him, tying the strings quickly.
“That was just a taste of what’s coming.” His words bite out through clenched teeth. He clasps my chin between a finger and thumb again and even though I can see he’s trying to ignore my tears there’s compassion in his eyes, too. “You are getting a hell of a thrashing when I get you alone.” I nod through blurring eyes. “I’ve never been so worried in my whole God-damned life!”
“Okay. I’m sorry,” I say with a shudder. His hard look melts and he pulls me into his chest. He kisses my head and leans down to whisper into the crook of my neck.
“You undo me, Daniela Torkaz. I don’t know how or why, but you do.” He pulls back and looks me in the eye. “I waited at your bus stop half the night,” he croaks, and I can’t help but dissolve into tears and snuggle as deep as I can into him. “Clara made a fortune.”
This time, when he pulls me back, I cling like an octopus. “Please,” I beg. “Don’t go. I need you.” I let out a small desperate cry. “I fight it, Adam, fight it so hard, but I do. God, I do! I need you.”
He grabs both my shoulders and lifts me to my toes so he can take my mouth. His is hot and demanding, and I yield to his forceful lips and tongue. I’m molten and dizzy with want. I grab for his clothes, and he handcuffs my wrists like he did before with one hand.
He shoves me roughly against his gargantuan high-end refrigerator keeping my hands pinned above my head and torments a nipple through my t-shirt making me writhe. His mouth follows and heat blast through both the material and my core. His hand burrows in my hair and yanks my face to his. As our mouths mate, he releases my wrists and grabs my sore ass with both hands pulling me up, so my center presses against his hard bulge. I bury my hands in his hair, and his face burrows into my neck. I’m ready to combust when I hear the big bag of blocks crash onto the floor.
“The kids. The kids!” I whisper urgently. He drops my legs and cocks his brow. Adam’s gaze isn’t aimed at the living room where I’m sure Charlie is knee deep in blocks. It’s aimed at me.
“Dani,” he pants. “We’ll finish this later. First the spanking of your life and then your ravaging.”
Nadia comes into the kitchen, and we both pretend to be busy. Me getting two mugs and him grabbing the cream from the fridge. She eyes us both skeptically. I note how disheveled Adam looks and know I’ve been pawed far more.
“Good morning,” I say, still a little breathless. “What would you like for breakfast?”
Her brow quirks in the same high arch as Adam’s, but she finally walks out. “Charlie, what do you want for breakfast? It’s your choice today.” I hear Nadia ask. I let out a breath and lean my hip against the counter. Adam grins cheekily and hands me the spoon from the sink. “Bring that to your apartment.” When I look down at it in my hands, he swats my ass making me lurch from its tenderness. I rub it as he whistles out of the room.
About Kara Kelley:
Kara Kelley is a naughty Canuck (that’s a Canadian for those of you that don’t know), who loves spanks, a little bondage, tantalizing creative sex (trust me, honey this sh*t is gonna rock our world) and TIM HORTON’S. She’s full of playful mischief, loyalty and maybe some stubbornness, but she’ll never admit it. And she believes living in a secluded cabin in the woods (including good WIFI, a stocked Kindle, and plenty of chocolate) with her husband would be absolute bliss.
How to find Kara: