A Very Mafia Christmas: Standalone Enemies to Lovers Holiday Romance by L. Steele

Author:L. Steele [Steele, L. & Steele, L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-12-16T05:00:00+00:00

34

Aurora

"Fuck you," I yell over my shoulder as I slide aside to evade him. I run into the hallway, turning to look behind me, then scream again when I find him right there.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I race into the hallway and toward the front door. Am I actually going to do this? Run out into the cold and dark again to evade him. And if I don’t? He’ll catch me. Hell, he’s going to get his hands on me anyway, and damn, if I’m going to make it easy for him. I leap toward the front door, grab hold of the door handle with my bound hands, and twist it. That’s when a heavy hand descends on my waist.

"Let me go," I yell as he snatches me up and throws me over his shoulder. "Let me the hell go." I lock my fingers together and bury my fists into his back, but he doesn’t even flinch. He simply turns around and marches into the living room.

Anger thuds at my temples. I wriggle in his grasp, try to kick out, but he tightens his hold around my thighs. I raise my hands, and crash them down into his side.

His muscles tense. His shoulders go solid. Then his heavy palm connects with my butt. C-r-a-c-k.

I freeze. Not only did he catch me before I could make it out the door, but he’s spanking me? Anger crowds my mind. I squirm around in his grasp and—c-r-a-c-k, c-r-a-c-k—this time he spanks me on each butt cheek, then again. The pain coils in my belly and arrows straight to my core. My pussy clenches, my toes curl, and the flicker of lust that shoots through my veins is so intense that I freeze.

He takes advantage of my temporary acquiescence and marches into the living room. He throws me down on the settee. I spring up to my feet and brush past him. I’ve only taken a few steps before he grabs my arm and pulls me toward him. Once more, he pushes me down onto the settee. My hair pours over my face, and I shake it back. "What the hell?" I yell. "What’s wrong with you? If this is your idea of playing a game?"

"No game," he growls as he grabs the lapels of my shirt and tugs. The buttons go flying, then ping across the floor.

"What the hell! That’s the only shirt I have here, asshole—" I gaze up at him in shock, anger, and damn it,also arousal. My thighs quiver, and my chest hurts with the sensations that coil against my ribcage.

He thrusts his face into mine as he pushes against my shoulders. I fall back against the settee, and he plants his hands on either side of my face. "Do you still want to run?"

"Always," I snarl back.

"Try it then, Flower." he bares his teeth, and a shiver grips me.

I raise my hands, flatten them against his chest and push, and heave, and strain, but he doesn’t budge, not one inch.

"Cute." He smirks.

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