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Authors: Jane Henry

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Tears
came to her eyes, and she felt them wet her cheek, moaning as he licked and
sucked the top of her thigh.

“I
need you,” he whispered. “Do you need me, Celia?”

All
she could manage to eek out was a loud sniff.

 
“God, Celia,” he said, sitting up.
“You’re crying. This was what I was afraid of. This is—”

“No!”
she said, a sob escaping as she sniffed
again, but he still held her hand and she couldn’t hide her face from him. “I’m
not crying because this is wrong, Maverick. I’m crying because this is so
right.”

His
eyes heated, and he was removing his jeans, his eyes never leaving hers.

There
was no more that needed to be said.

He
lowered himself on her, the warmth and strength of him intensifying her need.
He gently spread her legs and slowly, so slowly, entered her. The fullness of
him was so satisfying she moaned out loud and silently begged him to thrust
harder, take her,
claim
her as his own.

He
didn’t need to be begged.

Deliberately,
firmly, he built a rhythm, his head dropping to her chest as he groaned and
climaxed, her own shattering climax and moans mingling with his.

* * *

One
month later.

Maverick
glanced at his phone and growled. She was late.

She
was so getting a spanking for this. Three times in one week she was late, and
he’d told her in no uncertain terms, if she were late again when he gave her a
time to be home, he’d spank her.

He
didn’t want to spank her tonight, but he also knew he couldn’t let it slide.
She was a tough one, that girl of his, and she needed the dependency of his
sternness and consistency. Still, her timing sucked. His apartment was filled
with red roses and softly glowing candles, a tray in the fridge of food waiting
for her.

Maverick
had paid his neighbor to take Marianna and his mom out to a movie. Even though
the two of them were thrilled with the new arrangement, occasionally he and
Celia needed a little privacy.

He
was glancing out the window when he saw her peel into the driveway. He growled
and simmered. That would be another ten.

Her
gorgeous, jean-clad legs trotted down the stairs, and he watched from where he
stood, her lithe figure coming to him.

Home to him.

He
could kick his own ass for not having done what should’ve been done so long
ago. She was so right, here with him. She was fiery and sassy, but so very
perfect for him. And she told him he was everything she’d ever wanted. He would
try to be. Every single damn day, he got up with the determination that he
would be the man she needed. He sighed.

And
the man she needed right now was man enough to spank her ass.

The
door opened and she came trotting in. She froze when she saw him, and glanced
at the clock above the sofa.

“Oh,”
she said, her mouth forming a perfect “O.”

So damn cute.
Not fair, how cute she was.

“Oh
is right, young lady,” he said, arms across his chest. “What time did I tell
you to come home?”

She
bit her lip and her cheeks flushed. “Six,” she said.

“Mmm
hmm,” he continued sternly. “And what time is it now?”

Celia
glanced at the clock. “Um, I think that’s fast.”

He
growled.

She
sighed and looked to the floor. He worked hard at keeping a straight face.

“Six-thirty.”

“Try
that again.”

“Six-thirty,
sir,” she said, her voice dropping.

He
stood, and moved over to the sofa. He sat heavily and crooked a finger at her.
Still biting her lip, she walked over to him, dragging her feet.

“Pull
‘em down, and get over my lap,” he said. She moved quickly to obey, unfastening
and pushing her jeans down, bending over his knee so that her body was on the
sofa, her legs dangling helplessly.

Without
prelude he raised his large hand and brought it down with a resounding
smack
,
not too hard, but not too soft, either. She was little, much smaller than he
was, and he had to temper his strength when it came to spanking her. Fortunately,
their frequent erotic sessions had given him a good taste for where her
tolerance lay, and he knew just how hard to deliver.

Another
stinging smack on her upper thigh, and she yelped. Again and again, he brought
his hand down firmly, alternating where he spanked her.

“When
I tell you to come home, I expect you to obey me,” he said.
Swat!
“You
need to account for traffic, and timing, and if you find that you’re going to
be late, I expect a call.”
Whack!


Not
a text from your car!”
Smack! Smack
! She’d learned
that
lesson
just last week.

He
continued to spank her firmly, and she took her spanking like a champ. When he
was done, she was sniffling quietly, and he lifted her back into his arms.

“Am
I clear?” he asked, still stern, and she nodded repentantly.

“Of
course,” she whispered, humbled and thoroughly chastened. “I’m so sorry,
Maverick. I’ll do better.”

He
pulled her close to him and he kissed her forehead.

“I
know you will, baby,” he said softly. Now that the punishment was over, they could
put this behind them. He’d cleared the air and given her the discipline she so
desperately craved. He wasn’t angry with her anymore, and he was ready to move
on with the night ahead.

Why
was she crying?

“Celia?”
he asked, and she sniffed even louder, her head on his chest, the tears coming
fast and furious.

“I’m
not sad,” she said. “Oh God, Maverick. You have no idea. No idea how badly I’ve
wanted this. How badly I’ve
needed
this. And I don’t mean I’ll act out
so you’ll punish me. No! No, it’s not that at all... I’ll try so hard to please
you. I promise you, I will!”

She
sniffed, and he held her close.

“You
already do, Celia. So much, baby,” he said softly.

Lifting
her head, she suddenly looked around the room and noticed the candles and
roses. She blinked in surprise.

“Maverick,”
she whispered. “What is this?”

“A
special night.” He gently pushed her off his lap and onto the couch. “Get
yourself situated, and stay there.” He pointed a stern finger at her and she
nodded obediently.

He
went to the fridge and pulled the tray out, walked back to where she was, and
sat down with the tray between them. When he lifted the lid, she laughed out
loud.

“Creamy
select milk chocolate icing!” she squealed. “And the mini pretzel rods. You
even got the
crunchy
peanut butter,” she crooned. She reached her hand
out and then stopped, wide eyes looking up at him. “May I?”

“Help
yourself,” he chuckled. “I found wheat-free pretzels that don’t taste like
shit. But don’t overdo it, or you’ll end up right back where you were a minute
ago.” He placed a large finger under her chin. “You got me?”

She
bit her lip and nodded vigorously. “Yes, yessir, I promise, sir!”

He
chuckled as she took a large bite. “Yum. Oh my God, I swear this is the
antidote for post-spanking. Who knew?”

Celia
froze, pretzel halfway to her lips, as her eyes fell on something. “What’s
that?” she whispered. A large card and a small white box sat on the table in
front of her.

He
shrugged. “Oh, just something I should’ve gotten a long time ago,” he said
casually.

She
swallowed.

“Season
tickets to the Jets games?” she quipped, voice unnaturally high, despite her
bravado.

He
shook his head. God, he loved this woman. He reached for the small box and
card, handed her the card and watched as she opened it eagerly. Her eyes misted
as she read the card, and placed it down gently next to her.

“You
know I love you, too,” she whispered.

He
nodded. He dropped to one knee before her.

“This
is the one and
only
time you’ll ever
see
me
on my knees
before you, girl. So burn this in your memory. Okay?”

“Something
tells me I’ll never forget,” she whispered. He opened the box and she gasped.
He’d brought Marianna with him to pick it out, and she’d picked a ring fit for
a princess.

“I
love you, Celia,” he said, the words coming as naturally as if he’d been saying
them his whole life. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We’ve
waited too long, and I won’t wait another minute. Will you marry me?”

She
nodded, tears filling her eyes again, her snack forgotten.

“Yes,
Maverick, yes, a thousand yesses!” she said. He grinned, as he slipped the ring
on her finger. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she murmured.

“You
know I’ll expect you to obey me,” he chuckled, “none of these games or fooling
around. You’ll do as you’re told or you’ll end up over my knee. You know that.”

She
smirked up at him, a teasing glint her eyes that still glistened with tears.

“Love,
honor, and obey,” she whispered. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, big guy.”

 

 

The End

 

 

 

Jane Henry

 

Jane has been writing since
her early teens, dabbling in short stories and poetry. When she married and
began having children, her pen was laid to rest for several years, until the
National Novel Writing Challenge (NaNoWriMo) in 2010 awakened in her the desire
to write again. That year, she wrote her first novel, and has been writing ever
since. In 2012, she became interested in the D/s lifestyle, and has discovered
her love for writing romance with a D/s twist. With a houseful of children, she
finds time to write in the early hours of the morning, squirreled away with a
laptop, blanket, and cup of hot coffee. Years ago, she heard the wise advice,
“Write the book you want to read,” and has taken it to heart. She sincerely
hopes you also enjoy the books she likes to read.

 

Visit her blog here:

http://janehenrywriter.blogspot.com

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/JaneHenryAuthor

Facebook: Jane Henry Author

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100010937346139

Please contact her via email:

[email protected]

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BOOK: A Thousand Yesses
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