Page 57 of Passionate Defense

This put her body at a forty-five-degree angle with her bottom at the perfect height for his hand. With friends expecting them, the first pitch less than two hours away, and traffic to battle, he didn’t waste any time. The first smack landed with a resounding crack that echoed up the wooden staircase, and man-oh-man did it sting.

Her voice hitched as she yelped his name.

“Quiet. There’s only one word getting you out of this punishment.” His hand landed again and again, keeping up a steady barrage while he lectured. “You’ve lived in Boston for years. You work here, your friends are here, and you married a man born and raised here. This is a lesson you should have learned long ago.”

Her cheeks had passed warm and were well on their way to blazing, but he didn’t let up.

“Perhaps you could explain, sir.”

“The Sox are playing the Yankees for the American League Championship. The series is tied 3-3 and we have home team advantage. Do you understand what that means?”

He paused for her answer. Unwisely, she gave it. “Um... I guess it means the boys from the Bronx better step up their game.”

“Wrong,” he barked, laying down a half dozen blazing swats on the sensitive spots where her cheeks met her thighs.

“Stop, Ethan. I was kidding.”

But stop wasn’t a word he recognized during punishment or role-play, and he resumed the measured swats to her heated backside as, in Professor Fischer mode, he continued teaching his lesson.

“If the Sox win tonight, they’ll be the American League Champs and the series will come home to Boston. That’s huge for the team, the fans, and the city. Boston loves their Sox. For a true Bostonian, they’re like a religion and what you are wearing is nothing short of blasphemy.”

A particularly sharp smack punctuated his statement, and her hand flew back to cover her bottom. “Ouch! Ethan! That really stung!”

His fingers wrapped around her wrist and pinned it to her lower back out of the way. He also ignored her protests because again, she had not said the magic word, and his palm continued to rain down fire from one side to the other.

“It also means you do not walk out of this house wearing a New York Yankees jersey. You got me?”

“Yes, sir,” came her watery response. “I got you.”

He stopped, but he didn’t help her up, or give her a cuddle, or pet her stinging cheeks like he usually did. He was that put out with her. Instead, she heard the clink of his belt and the next instant, he was inside her, his prodigious cock filling every scintilla of space. In the brief moment before he started moving, she felt the stretch deep inside. Her pussy spasmed in delight, tightening as if trying to hold him there forever. Even after he’d blistered her butt to a fiery burn, she wanted this man, and she wanted him now.

As if he could hear her thoughts, he pulled almost all the way out before thrusting hard. Lanie’s knees nearly buckled from the mind-numbing pleasure. She didn’t have to worry about falling forward and eating stair tread, however. He held her securely, the hand around her wrist and the other locked onto her hip, supporting her, and keeping her in place so he could drive his length inside her, deeper and faster. She grunted with each inward stroke as he took her hard, almost angrily. As if he planned to fuck the Yankee out of her once and for all.

Jolting Joe might roll over in his grave, but right then and there, on her stairs, with Ethan driving into her from behind, she vowed to die a devoted Sox fan if he would take her like this before each game.

With his hips and thighs smacking her stinging cheeks, his balls slapping up against her clit with each thrust—the spanking having done considerable prep work—he quickly pushed her over the top into a truly amazing climax. As she flew apart, so did he, both of them crying out as they came.

“Damn, baby.” Ethan huffed as his head came to rest on her back. “That might have been the best one yet. Thank you.”

She reached back to rub a still stinging spot. “You didn’t like my little dig about the Bronx, huh?”

His lips grazed her skin, asking, “Too much?”

Lanie could hear the concern in his voice and decided it wasn’t nice to joke about such things. “No,” she giggled. “I loved it.”

He chuckled, the relief palpable in his tone when he teased, “Who would have guessed beneath the Ice Queen exterior lies a complete spank-o?”

She snorted at that irony of his statement. “It takes one to know one, Professor Cool and Collected.”

“Fair enough. I guess we better clean up and get going. We’re supposed to meet Ray and Vicky for a beer before the game.”

She waited for him to pull out, but he didn’t move, holding her motionless while still wedged deep inside. She hardly minded savoring the warm glow their intimacy instilled within her. After several moments passed, she thought of the time and their plans for the evening.

“Honey, you’ll have to let me up if you want to go anywhere.”

“Hmm, I was thinking...”

He stood, his hands moving to her shoulders. Instead of helping her to stand, his fingers curled into the collar of her T-shirt and a ripping sound followed as cool air hit her back.

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