Welcome to Saturday Spanks blog hop! Mastering Mariah by Maddie Taylor and yours truly has finally been released. Hope you enjoy this little snippet from Chef Byron’s kitchen. Happy Reading! ~Morganna
Though Dimitri De Luca is everything she could want in a man and in a master, the scars of Mariah Charmant’s past keep her from surrendering fully to his dominance and embracing the lifestyle she has always craved. Yet as her trust in Dimitri grows, so does the pleasure she experiences beneath his skillful hand, and Mariah soon finds herself submitting to him in ways she had promised herself she would never submit to a man again.
Her own romance is far from the only one on Mariah’s mind, however. As head of guest relations at the high-end BDSM-themed resort Dimitri owns and operates, she works hard to ensure that the kinky needs of the guests are satisfied, even if that means playing matchmaker from time to time. But when she goes behind Dimitri’s back to set the resort’s world-renowned chef up with a feisty little submissive who is just perfect for him, she ends up earning a thorough chastisement from the man who is both her boss and her master.
Mariah does her best to help each guest live out their perfect fantasy while keeping her own meddling behind from being draped over Dimitri’s lap too often, but her efforts are interrupted when trouble rears its ugly head in Pleasure Bay. With threats from a violent tropical storm and a dangerous individual from Mariah’s past both looming, can Dimitri battle man and nature to rescue the woman he loves before it’s too late? And if he brings her home safe will Mariah at last be ready to belong to him completely?
Publisher’s Note: Mastering Mariah is the sequel to Dimitri’s Desire. It is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, elements of medical play, and other BDSM content. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Excerpt:
She jumped, expecting to see him glowering behind her, but she turned to see him towering over Mindy, the one she secretly called Barbie—tall, slim, high pert boobs and a narrow waist. In a word, perfect. Barbie was staring up at him like a deer in the headlights, blue eyes huge and rapidly filling with tears. Kelsey mentally willed her not to break. If she cried, he’d have her for lunch.
Her powers of positive thinking failed miserably, however. Cringing inwardly, she contained a heavy sigh when she heard the first sob escape poor Babs. Crap, she’s done it now.
“Are you crying?” the chef asked in amazement, pointing out the obvious only making matters worse. “Crying in my kitchen is not allowed unless I give you a reason to cry! When I want you to cry, believe me, you’ll cry. Otherwise, suck it up, buttercup, and do as you’re told!” He issued this warning in an ear-splitting bellow.
“Maybe if you backed off and stopped acting like an asshole she’d wouldn’t cry,” Kelsey said sharply before she could stop herself. Well, there went her chance to work under him. But she couldn’t watch as he berated the timid little sous chef anymore. It was like watching someone kick a puppy.
He spun on her, his face frozen in astonishment. Slowly, his expression morphed into anger, a spark like blue fire shooting from his eyes as he demanded, “Did you just call me an ass?”
Tempted, she decided in for a penny, in for a pound and answered boldly, if not stupidly, “No. I actually called you an ass-hole. Emphasis on the hole. You are deliberately making her nervous and yelling with the intent to make her cry. Stop it. It’s not necessary to behave this way to determine the right fit for your sous chef,” she told him with a glare, crossing her arms over her ample breasts.
He tilted his head and studied her for a moment before giving a slight smile and nodding, “You’re right.”
She felt her jaw drop. “I am?”
“Yes. You’re going to be punished for the ass remark, but I’m sure you expected that when you did it,” he said almost conversationally.
“Punished?” Kelsey echoed. What had she done by bringing his attention away from the other girl?
“Good god, you’ve become a fucking parrot. Lose the pants and panties, then plant your nose in that corner while I deal with these two,” he ordered sternly, indicating Babs and Malibu Barbie, her fake tan counterpart. Both girls were crying.
“I beg your pardon?” she asked in outrage.
“You heard me, brat,” Byron said succinctly.
The term startled her, but something in his tone made her move. She quickly stripped from the waist down, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her chef’s shirt and rubber soled non-skid shoes, her hands crossed low in front of her. The top was long on her, but not nearly long enough. He would still be able to see her bare slit in the front and most of her ass in the back. She was horribly embarrassed, more so when she felt the tell-tale trickle of moisture leaking from her heated core.
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Morganna Williams Blog 
Hot snippet, Morganna. Congratulations on your new release.
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Good scene-thanks for sharing.
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