Page 44 of Punish Me

“What’s for dessert?” I ask, rolling my eyes and changing the topic as I lick my fork and then my lips.

“You if you lick your lips like that one more time,” he says, watching me closely as his eyes narrow.

“I didn’t realize that I did that,” I say, setting my fork down.

“Go ahead and enjoy your meal,” he says, sitting back in his chair and waving his hand at my plate.

I am almost finished, but the way that my pulse is racing and how heated I am between my thighs, I’m not sure if I can eat the rest of my meal without it turning into a sexual fiesta.

“I’m finished,” I say, pushing back from the table.

“Did I ruin it for you?” he asks, still sitting back in his chair, watching as I move to the trash to empty the remnants of my dinner.

There are only a couple of carrots left and a bite of spinach. The lamb and potatoes are completely gone.

Rubbing my belly, I answer, “No. I just want to leave room for dessert.”

I turn my gaze to the baked apple crisp that’s been cooling off for the last hour.

“Are you ready for it?”

“Actually, I am,” I say, rinsing my dish.

Ambrose comes up behind me and takes the dish from my hand. Slipping it into the dishwasher, he says, “You’re my guest.”

“Yes, but you cooked for me. The least that I can do is repay the favor by cleaning the kitchen.”

“No, the least you can do is repay the favor by giving me a kiss,” he says, standing and pulling me into his arms.

“I...my breath might not be the best right now.”

Ambrose leans towards me. “You’ve been avoiding this all day. I’m thinking you don’t want to kiss me.”

“Nothing could be further from the truth.”

“Then kiss me,” he challenges.

I give him a quick peck and pull back. His eyes grow wickedly teasing as he leans in and bites my neck. I moan, and then he moves from my neck to my shoulder, tugging at the t-shirt as he goes along. When he finishes that, he comes back up and captures my lips, catching me off-guard.

The kiss is smooth and sensual, yet sweet and slow. When he finally pulls back, Ambrose releases me. I’m still standing there with my chest heaving and my hands balled into fists.

He moves around me and heads back into the dining room. I watch him from the open kitchen as he grabs the rest of the dishes from the table and brings them back into the kitchen.

“See, kissing me isn’t so bad, is it?”

I know he’s playing with my senses. I know that he’s turning me on purposely to drop my defenses, hoping that I will weaken and forget about the proposal that I made.

I’m not doing it. It doesn’t matter how horny I am or how wet my panties are. I’m standing on this, damn it!

“No, it wasn’t,” I say, closing my eyes and breathing deeply. “Can we eat dessert now?” I ask, walking to the cabinet and removing two dessert plates from his overhead glass door cabinet.

“Grab a couple of bowls while you’re at it. I bought some ice cream to go with it.”

“What flavor?” I ask, removing the bowls.

“Your favorite, French Vanilla.”

“What? You remembered?” I gasp, turning around and smiling at him.

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