“You spanked me,” she told him.“I did.” He lifted her shoulders high enough to push a wedge pillow under the pad. “And I enjoyed it very much. You have a very spankable ass, no?”

“Look at me, sugar.” She lifted her eyes, and he wiped away the tear that spilled over. “I could tell you what I do and don't do, but you wouldn't believe a word I said. So let's get this over with.”

“You're very lovely, gatita."Her brows pulled together, and she gave him a skeptical stare."Do not look at your master as if he's an idiot.”

“You're allowed to look, sweetheart, he murmured, running a finger down her hot cheek. I enjoy having your eyes on me.”

“I wouldn't do this if i didn't care, but you mean everything to me, and if this is what you need, then this is what you'll get. But we're damned well going to work on changing this association between caring and spanking.”

“the easiest way to keep a woman over your shoulder is with a hand on her ass, and the other between her legs.”

“She couldn’t take her eyes from the dancing flame. No, this was so wrong. Candles should be used for meditation…for romance. Or on a birthday cake at least.So where was the cake? The present? The song? As he stepped closer to her—as the damned flame got way too close—she started singing. “Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me…” Marcus paused, looking at her in disbelief. See. I knew he didn’t have a sense of humor. “Happy birthday, dear Gabi”—she lifted her head and blew out the candle—“happy birthday to me.”