Turquoiselle by Tanith Lee (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

the first time in his life, he had something to lose. He would have to live without her, knowing what it was like to have her.

He hated it.

And he took it out on her delectable body.

They both liked toys, so he fitted her with one of her favorites, then made her walk down the stairs with it in. He made her keep it in, so that even the act of standing with him in the kitchen while he calmly made coffee made her blush and shift from foot to foot, moaning a little.

“Do not come without my permission,” he said as he poured the Turkish coffee into two cups and then carried them outside. Where he had her sit in the sun, letting the light dance all over her skin while she squirmed in her seat and looked at him like he was the best kind of monster. “Or you will regret it.”

“I already regret it,” Indy retorted, her voice rough and greedy, just the way he liked it. “It’s torture.”

“It is not. But it could be. Is that what you would like?”

“I would like to talk—”

“A spanking it is, then.”

Stefan pushed back his chair and patted his lap, lifting one brow.

Indy stared back at him, naked but for the way her hair tumbled down over her shoulders. And oh, he loved to watch the expressions that moved over her lovely face. At first she looked mutinous. He saw the distinct flash of her temper. And then, almost despite herself, the heated awareness that became a flush. Her nipples hardened. Her lips fell open.

She muttered something beneath her breath but she got up, crossed to him, and draped her naked body over his lap. Deliberately making it awkward when he knew how graceful she was, as yet another level of protest.

“I’m not really into this, you know,” she told him as he widened his legs to keep her where he wanted her. But could feel the way she melted into him, no matter what she said. “Not when you seem mad. Which, by the way, you do.”

“Yes, I can see how not into it you are,” Stefan murmured, his hands playing between her thighs. He gripped the base of the toy and fucked her with it until goosebumps broke out all over her back and the sweet curve of her ass.

He was not mad. But he did not wish to tell her what he was.

Maybe he didn’t know where to begin.

“Stefan...” she started. Again.

“I told you to be quiet,” he reminded her. “But there are some lessons you do not want to learn, Indiana. Maybe today, you will.”

He removed the toy. And then he paddled her. He didn’t go easy on her, either. He spanked her until her ass was red and she was sobbing with a mixture of outrage and pleasure. And the more she sobbed, the slicker and hotter she got between her legs.

When she melted against him again he pulled her up to bend her over the table before him, fumbling with his trousers before he thrust himself inside her.

Inside her, where he belonged.

Stefan pounded into her, making sure he smacked up against her reddened ass with every thrust.

Then she was coming, sobbing out his name. Then he was too, and it was all heat and intensity and how could she walk away from all this?

Because she was Indy. That was what she did.

He pulled out of her, but she stayed where she was, looking thoroughly debauched, tossed across the table.

“Will you make it?” he asked her dryly.

She didn’t open her eyes. He bent over her, wiping away the moisture beneath each eye, and found himself tenser than he ought to have been—at least until she smiled. Sleepily, but smugly, as if she’d gotten exactly what she wanted.

“That’s almost as good as your Turkish coffee,” she murmured.

Stefan didn’t keep her in the sun too long, but he did keep her naked.

He took her back inside and commandeered one of his sitting rooms. He let her recover from their first round, but when she was awake again and sitting up—if gingerly—he started all over again.

And this round, he really took his time.

Indy finally screamed out her release and shattered. He followed, but recovered far more quickly. He brought her a tall glass of water and some crackers, setting them down near the couch where he’d left her, seemingly dead to the world.

Then he watched her as she slowly came back to life.

First she opened her eyes. Then she slowly pulled herself up to sitting position. She gazed back at him for a time, almost without comprehension. Then she looked a bit more like herself, and reached out for the water. She drank deep, ate a few crackers, and frowned at him.

“I get that you like intensity, Stefan. But this seems over the top.” She considered him for another long moment. “Even for you.”

“Then let us make it more intense,” he suggested. He was already sitting across from her, so he settled into his seat. Then waved a hand. “Make yourself come.”

“Now? Really?” She sputtered a little. “When we just...?”

“Now,” he ordered her quietly. “It may take some time. And I do not want you to close your eyes, Indiana. You will look at me. The whole time.”

He could see what she thought of that. Not much at all. Her cheeks were almost as red as her butt as she shifted around on the sofa. She shoved her hair back from her face, then stared at him as if she didn’t have the slightest idea how to find her own pleasure.

That was no problem. Stefan was happy to tell her.

“I want you kneeling,” he said. “Right there on that sofa. Thighs apart, breasts thrust toward me, and your hands between your legs. Go on, Indiana. I won’t ask again.”

She shivered, and he knew her too well now. He knew she wanted to fight him. He knew she was even now weighing whether the punishment might well be more delicious