Page 43 of Just One More Night

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 than the obedience. And he saw the precise moment she decided not to test his will.

Not then, anyway.

Indy knelt up on the couch, arranging herself just as he’d ordered. He heard her breath leave her in a little sigh as she ran her hands down her thighs, then tracked her way up again. Then, holding his gaze again, she trailed her fingers up the length of her torso until she found her own nipples.