by Renee Rose
His flinty eyes turned to Zac. “I tracked you today to find out why you walked off your mission. I thought we’d discussed this unapproved relationship.”
Zac’s gaze was equally cold. “I want Marcus’s job.”
Beatty raised an eyebrow. “Negative. You are one of our best weapons. Your position is not negotiable.”
“Bullshit.”
Silence stretched between them as they eyed each other like two wolves fighting for the alpha position.
“You think I can’t ghost out as easily as he did?” he asked, jerking his thumb at her father.
“With a wife and kid?”
Becca felt a strange surge of pleasure at being called Zac’s wife and the thought of going on the run with him was more exciting than she cared to admit.
“Wouldn’t you rather know where I am and what I’m up to? Have me working for you, instead of someone else?”
“The organization has made a significant investment in you. You’re too valuable as a field agent to give up.”
“You’ll lose me either way. At least this way, you’ll still have me on your side.”
A muscle jumped in Beatty’s neck as the two men eyed each other. Becca held her breath.
“Finish the job you fucked up in Serbia.”
Zac nodded, once.
Another silence.
“You’ll be bored to death as an analyst.”
Becca sat up taller. Had he just conceded?
Zac gave her a sidelong glance and winked. “I’ll find other things to occupy me.”
Beatty fixed his dark gaze on her father. “I can’t hire you back,” he said, surprising them all with the news that he’d just considered it. “But I’d probably never think of looking for you right here in San Diego.”
Becca smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
He looked at her, his face a stony mask, and made her laugh when he, too, winked.
* * *
Becca looked radiant in her strapless wedding gown, hair falling in soft waves down her back, a wreath of white and peach roses on her crown. Parker wore a beige linen suit that matched Zac’s, with the pants cuffed so they didn’t catch sand. They stood on Silver Stand State Beach in the presence of Becca’s parents, who were on tenuous but increasingly warm terms with each other, Becca’s sister and her sister’s husband, and a justice of the peace.
“Friends, we have been invited here today to share with Zachary Casper and Rebecca Cavanah a very important moment in their lives. They have decided to live their lives together as husband and wife. They have written their own vows, which they will now share with each other. Zac?”
He swallowed and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, surprised to see that fingers normally steady enough to pick the tiniest lock, or disarm the wiring on a bomb, shook slightly. Though he’d spent a lifetime rejecting emotion, he relished the feeling now—the overwhelming love healing him as it coursed through his body in waves. He took a deep breath, hoping his voice would be steady.
“Becca, until I met you, life wasn’t real to me. I was like the walking dead. You woke me up.” He grinned, looking up from his paper to meet her eye, “I guess I was Sleeping Beauty, and you were the huntsman. Your kiss brought me back to life.”
She smiled back at him, tenderness etched in her face.
He glanced back at his sheet. “Thirty-five years never prepared me for the power of your love. I didn’t know my purpose in life until I met you—and now I’m sure. It’s to be your man, your husband. Today I commit to that role, knowing it is the finest honor of my life. There can be no greater privilege than to hold you in my arms, or sleep beside you at night. You’ve already given me the greatest gift possible in the form of our son, Parker, and I promise you, I will be the best father I can be to him, and to the rest of our children, if we should have more.”
He winked at Parker, who beamed with surprised delight.
“I love you. I dedicate my whole life’s journey to loving you, no matter what path it may take. I give you my heart, my body, my soul. I’ll be your man, forever.”
He gave her a solemn nod, reaching his hand out and she placed her palm in his, smiling and blinking back tears.
“Becca, you may now read your vows,” the officiant instructed.
Her sister handed her a piece of paper on which he could see her neat, loopy scrawl. “Zac, no one has ever understood me the way you do. I don’t think I even understand myself as well as you do.” She looked up and gave him a watery smile. “I am so grateful for your presence in my life and to have you—” she broke off, her voice choking with emotion, “—for real, for keeps, is a dream come true. I feel cherished when I’m with you and I know you would do anything for me. Already you’ve helped me grow and release my fears. I look forward to following your lead and discovering who I really am and who I can be.” She’d peeked at him when she said “following your lead”—acknowledging their own private meaning to the phrase.
His heart swelled even further.
“Do you have a ring for the bride?”
“I do,” he said, pulling out the giant black Sea of Cortez pearl he’d had made into a ring.
Her eyes shone as he placed it on her finger, repeating the vows the officiant offered.
“Becca, do you have a ring for Zac?”
Becca took the ring from her sister, but her fingers trembled so badly, she dropped it into the sand. Everyone laughed as Parker scrambled to snatch it up.
“Here, Mom,” he said with a grin.
“Thanks, baby,” she said, ruffling his hair.
She placed the ring on Zac’s finger, repeating the vows.
“By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss each other.”
Zac cupped Becca’s face and lowered his lips to meet hers, which parted in welcome, her hands coming to rest on his chest. Feeling the eyes of her family upon them, he pulled away, but instantly missed the contact, and pulled her back in for a lingering kiss, causing their guests to laugh. When he reluctantly broke away, he leaned down and picked up Parker, kissing one cheek at the same time as Becca kissed the other.
“Look!” Parker yelled, pointing out to the ocean. A pod of dolphins were flashing their graceful arcs, just a few hundred feet from shore.
Becca caught her breath, and he put his arm around her waist, as they all stood watching the magic together.
Epilogue
Six months later
Zac lifted her off his knee and turned her to sit on his lap, looking into her face. She set her jaw in defiance, refusing to allow the tears stinging her eyes to escape. As always, his face was an inscrutable mask, but she thought she heard a slight sigh as he tilted her torso back down to the bed, and rolled her back over.
Her panties were around her thighs, her bare ass glowing from the long hand spanking he’d just given her. They had quarreled over Kung Fu lessons for Parker. Or rather, she had quarreled while he remained steadfastly calm. His calm had irritated her, and she’d ended up stomping around the house like a child, slamming cabinets and finally, the bedroom door.
Which had earned her this spanking.
She tensed, listening to detect what implement Zac selected. The sound wasn’t a clue, but the loud slap of the leather tawse struck a jolt of fear into her. She clenched her buttocks and surged forward, as if she might squirm right off his lap. He held her easily with an arm around her waist and brought the tawse down across her cheeks again. She gasped with the pain of it.
“Ow!” she complained.
He ignored her and brought it down again, this time on her right cheek, the next on her left. Then he caught the backs of her thighs, which flooded her with rage. She kicked her feet and howled. “Owwww!”
He paused for a moment to let her settle, but didn’t say a word. The entire warm-up with his hand had been silent, as well. They both knew why she was being spanked and that she wasn’t ready to talk.
She caught her b
reath, a much easier feat these days. She hadn’t had an asthma attack since they’d married as a result of Zac’s patient tutelage of stress relief techniques.
The tawse bit into her flesh again, just as the second wave of pain from the stripes kicked in. She bucked on his lap. Another lash. As the cruel leather instrument stung her flinching ass again and again, she squeezed her eyes closed and grit her teeth. She was sweating with the endurance, fighting the sensations, fighting Zac in a silent, futile battle of wills.
As the pain was met in equal measure by endorphins, her panic receded, and with it her resistance, until her natural submission began to surface. She tried to hold onto her anger, but as he continued to stripe her raw cheeks, it became impossible to keep. She lost her focus, forgot why she was angry as all sensation exploded into the pain of his punishment and the helplessness of her situation. Nothing she could do or say would stop the spanking before Zac decided it was over.
The first sob came out quickly, like a bark, and then she knew nothing but the sensation of the leather biting her skin five more times before the second sob overtook her.
“No more,” she sobbed. “No more.”
He gave her exactly three more, harder than the rest and then stopped, the pliant strap resting across the cleft of her cheeks.
“Sorry,” she croaked.
He slid the heel of his hand inside her shirt, stroking up the length of her back. The gesture completed her surrender, and she sank into the bed, into his touch, weeping with the release of it all.
“Sorry.”
He removed the threat of the strap from her bottom and pulled up her panties, then rolled her up to cradle in his arms.
“I’m still mad at you,” she wept, pouting like a child.
He leaned his forehead against hers, rocking her gently. “Okay,” he said.
Okay. It was so easy for him to accept her emotions without any triggered response of his own. Sometimes it infuriated her, but she saw the blessing of it.
“Why is it every time we fight, I end up getting spanked?” she sulked, sniffing.
The corners of his mouth turned up as he gazed at her tenderly. “Because that’s the way we do things.”
“I still don’t think you’re right.”
Zac’s insistence on switching Parker to a more serious studio, where he’d take lessons three times a week, had upset her. As much as she adored Zac, she didn’t want their son to grow up to be like him.
“I didn’t spank you because I’m right,” he said mildly.
Some of the remaining resistance in her fell away. “Why did you spank me?” she asked, expecting an answer about her temper tantrum, or disrespect.
“Because it calms you down so we can talk.”
She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “You’re thirsty,” he said. “Go get your water bottle.” He helped her to her feet and patted her ass as she left to cross the room for her drink. She drank several gulps as she returned and stopped in front of him, feeling suddenly shyer than a unicorn.
“Baby.” He reached an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap, her sore bottom stinging at the friction of movement over his khakis.
“I don’t spank you because I know better, or because I’m right. I spank you because you need it.”
Her last defense flew away and she crumbled into another wet mess of tears. He was right, she did need it. It helped her release her frustrated emotions, broke down her defenses, and opened her heart. He pulled her against his shoulder and rocked her, rubbing her back. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you, too,” she sniffed. She buried her face against his neck until she’d recovered. When she lifted her head, Zac nudged her off his lap.
“Go stand in the corner with your panties down.”
“Wh-what?”
“You heard me.”
She stood, her legs still trembling from the spanking, and obeyed, putting her nose in the corner and pulling her panties back down. “This is a punishment.”
“It is,” she heard Zac’s silky voice approaching her from behind. “But I’m not doing it to punish you.”
“Why are you doing it?”
His arms wrapped around her and one hand slid down her belly in the direction of her pussy, which was dripping with moisture.
“Why do you think?”
She hid a smile, though he wouldn’t have seen it anyway.
His finger slid over her wet and swollen sex. “You’ve been a naughty girl, and naughty girls get corner time. With their bare, punished bottoms on display.” His other hand caressed her tender butt cheeks. “You know what I like to do with a punished bottom?”
“What?” she whispered.
“I like to fuck it. Would you like that, Becca?”
She couldn’t answer, wanting it, but not wanting to ruin the punishment feel of his threat by admitting she wanted it. Or to admit to him she was a little afraid, though he probably already knew.
“Go bend over the bed,” he murmured, pulling her panties all the way off.
“Yes, sir.” Heart thumping, she folded her torso over the side of the bed, presenting her ass to him. She listened to his movements as he opened and closed the nightstand drawer and then gasped when he peppered her bottom with a flurry of spanks. They hurt worse after the corner time break, as if her flesh had had a chance to register just how sore it really was. “Ow! Please, Zac!”
“No, Becca,” came his silky reply in her ear. “You’ve been a naughty girl so I have to be very, very strict with you.”
The words “naughty” and “strict” wound her up, and she gave a soft moan, just as she felt the cool application of lube on her back hole. Zac rubbed the rounded tip of a butt plug in her pussy, wetting it with her juices.
“Do you want me to punish your asshole?” he asked softly.
She moaned and he pushed the slickened plug against her resisting entryway.
“Open for me,” he commanded, and her body obeyed at once, the muscles of her pelvic floor relaxing, her pussy spasming and her tight sphincter spreading wide to allow the plug to slip in. It filled her, but there was no pain. Rather, it created a sense of urgency, making her desperate to come. Her legs shuddered as his fingers slid inside her and he pressed the plug deeper.
“Oh, God…”
“Yes, you’ve been a bad girl, Becca, and bad girls get punished.” He shoved the plug as deep as it would go with little pulses, fucking her with it. She made a keening sort of sound in the back of her throat.
“Please?”
“Please what? Please fuck my ass?”
He continued to push the plug in as his fingers plunged in her slick depths. She couldn’t answer. She was nearly delirious with need, her mind already exploded into a non-verbal consciousness.
“Yes, I’m going to teach you to be a good girl, Becca. Can you be my good girl?”
“Yes!” she gasped urgently.
“What will you do for me?”
“Anything!” The vague idea of serving him like a slave flashed through her mind, crawling on her knees, or being ordered to suck his cock, and a small orgasm ripped through her, though with the plug in her ass, she couldn’t tighten her pelvic floor the way she normally did.
He slid his cock into her pussy, and the sense of being too full, with the double penetration of the plug and his cock made her sob with need. He pumped into her, pushing the plug in deeply each time he filled her until the combined sensation of cock and plug had her clawing the bedcovers, offering soft sobs of desire. She felt his own desire growing as he increased his tempo and intensity, but just before she shattered, he pulled out, nearly making her weep. He removed the butt plug and pressed himself into her ass, sliding in easily, but filling her so much farther with his cock.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned. He gripped her shoulder and slid in and out, a careful gliding that was more satisfying to her than receiving him in her pussy, even as it was far too much. She squeezed her eyes shut and relished the sensation,
squealing each time it pushed her comfort, moaning for more each time he retreated.
“Yes,” Zac cried, increasing his tempo and she echoed him, triumphant over his pleasure, greedy for her release. He pounded into her, his strokes growing more reckless and she sobbed the word “yes” over and over until he pressed into the hilt and orgasmed, crying, “Now, Becca!”
Her body climaxed on his command, her legs shivering spasmodically as wave after wave of pleasure cascaded through her.
Dear God, that was amazing.
She felt barely conscious as Zac slipped out of her and lifted her limp body onto the bed, curling his body around hers.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He kissed her temple.
“We can try the new Kung Fu studio. I’m not afraid anymore.”
He ran the pad of his finger along her cheekbone. “It’s not my intention to raise a warrior—is that what you’re afraid of?”
She nodded.
“What I like about a serious studio is he’ll gain confidence and learn structure and discipline. He could get the same thing from ballet or soccer, but it’s Kung Fu he’s interested in.”
“What if it were ballet he was interested in?” she challenged.
He grinned at her. “I would not stand in his way.”
Her heart pounded in that inexplicable way it always did when she approved of him as a parent. It was like falling in love all over again, every time.
“Thanks for the spanking, too,” she said in a small voice.
He grinned, understanding her perfectly.
“Anytime.”
“Don’t you mean every time?”
He rolled her onto her back and climbed over her. “No sulking, sweetheart. I’ve got more of that where it came from.”
She giggled, lifting her lips for a kiss, reveling in the way he held her down when he met her lips, the dominance already rekindling her desire.
The End
Stormy Night Publications would like to thank you for your interest in our books.
