A SATURDAY SPANKS SNIPPET #satspanks

When it finally comes--that moment you might have fantasized about, the moment you may have pushed for without much conscious effort, the moment you swore you really didn't want--it's quite a shock. Just ask Rowan Delaney.
(Click on the picture to visit other blogs)

---

He opened the door and pulled Rowan inside. She would pay for this, and she would pay dearly. Vincent Girardi did not suffer fools, and he found that he suffered foolish women even less. The door banged shut under his foot, and after setting his gun down on the side table, he dragged her struggling form into the living room. He did not think he’d met a stupider woman, and if her stupidity did not get her shapely ass killed, he’d gladly do the job. He sat on the arm of the couch and hauled her over his knee.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed.

“Let’s test your theory.” He swung his hand back and landed hard over her tightly-encased backside. “Any more thoughts?”

“I am my own woman,” she screeched. “I can do what I want!”
“Oh, really. Well, so can I.” He pulled his hand back and swatted her again.
“Oh! I’m not going to stand for this, Vincent!”
“You won’t be sitting for it, either. Maybe you can levitate.” He swung again, delivering
another stinging smack.

Rowan grunted and attempted to push up off his lap. He gripped her around the waist and
placed her right back into position. She fought, kicked, and squirmed, grasping for escape by any means necessary, all to no avail. She was well and truly caught.

“You can’t do this to me!” she howled.

As mad as Vince was, that particular statement amused him. “I can’t, huh? Holler when the reality of the situation has reached your pea-sized brain.” And with that, he wound up and brought his hand down in a staccato rhythm that shut her up quick.