Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2011 Evernight Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-926950-47-1

Cover Artist: LF Designs

Editor: Bonnie Brown

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

MASTER OF MINE

BDSM Anthology

Edited by Bonnie Brown

Denied by Lauren Gallagher

Tempted (Dark Lust) by Jenika Snow

Spice It Up by Alexandra O'Hurley

Lady Blake's Tales for the Queen by Pepper Anthony

After the Honeymoon by Rachel Clark

Hidden Pleasures by Ashlynn Monroe

Mistake by London Saint James

Bad Romance by Melissa Hosack

Taken for Pleasure by Angelina Rain

DENIED

Copyright © Lauren Gallagher 2011

Her name wasn’t really Lady Roxanne.

Mine wasn’t really Elliott, so I guess that made us even.

We didn’t need to know each other’s names, though. In between weeks of lengthy online conversations, we’d met in the flesh at local munches and had a few mutual acquaintances. She was a well-respected – and deliciously sadistic – Domme, and presumably, she knew enough about me now to satisfy any concerns she might have had that I was an ax murderer, or an otherwise unsavory character.

It was also more than enough for me to be damned sure she was exactly what I’d been looking for. I wanted a Domme who’d make it hurt, and the more we talked, the more I knew Lady Roxanne was exactly the woman to do it. Pain play under her command didn’t mean a couple of slaps on the ass and some hair-pulling. Thud was for pussies as far as she was concerned, and if a sub didn’t want it to sting like hell, then she wasn’t interested. She talked about welts and bruises like they were badges of honor beaten into the flesh of her subs.

After much pleading on my part – she so loved to make me beg – she’d agreed to meet me tonight at the local dungeon. No more chatting. No more discussing what we wanted from each other. No more negotiating limits and rules.

“Do you want it to hurt?” she’d asked via instant message last night.

“Yes, Mistress. Please, please make it hurt.”

“Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”

In the room she’d reserved, I glanced up at the clock on the wall. Modern and unembellished, it was out of place here. It was the same crisp, black and white utilitarian device that hung above cubicle walls in every workplace in the city, with a thin red hand blandly marking the passing minutes. Out there, it informed people when it was time to leave their dull jobs and return to their dull lives. Here, it had become a necessity because it was so easy for a twenty-minute flogging to turn into a two-hour scene without anyone in the room realizing so much time had passed. Eventually, the dungeon owners would probably install clocks that were a bit more in synch with the ambiance, but for now, these eyesores would suffice, and this regimented keeper of corporate time kept watch over the pain and pleasure below.

It also said Lady Roxanne was fifteen minutes late.

No, that wasn’t right. She was the Domme. She was in charge, and she was not late. I was expected to be here at seven o’clock. When she arrived was her prerogative, and not my place to question, so I tried not to look at the clock. She would be here when she was damned good and ready.

Taking a deep breath, I wondered what awaited me this evening. She’d chosen one of the rooms that had a little of everything: A Saint Andrew’s Cross. A steel frame with dozens of holes and eyebolts specifically for hooking up ropes, chains, shackles, and God only knew what else. A table and couple of chairs, any one of which could be put to use by a creative top. Was she such a top? I’d find out soon enough.

I’d been disappointed the last several times I’d done this, but everyone said Lady Roxanne could dish out the pain like few other Dommes. She was relentless, and if there was a limit to be found and tested, she’d find it and test it.

We’ll see about that.

I had yet to find another Domme who could hurt me the way I wanted. Oh, the others made it hurt. They even got me into something close to subspace, at least far enough to make sure the resulting subdrop left me reeling for hours afterward, but it had been years since someone had beaten, clawed, and tortured me into knee-shaking, eye-watering, heart-pounding euphoria. Longer still since one had pulled it off without the jarring drop.

If what I’d heard and all she’d said was true, Lady Roxanne was the kind of Domme who would scratch my back to ribbons and whip me until I couldn’t stand it anymore. She wasn’t for the faint of heart, and faint of heart I was not.

At least, I thought I wasn’t, but my heart certainly did something when the door opened.

With a duffel bag over one arm and her curvy body poured into a skintight, black leather catsuit, Lady Roxanne strode in like she owned the place. Shoulders set back, eyes narrow, lips together in a straight, neutral line. Her high-heeled boots hit the floor with a rhythmic crack-tap that echoed through the room and down my spine. Blood pounded in my ears.

Damn, she was hot. Even when she was in street clothes, she was stunning, but like this? Jesus. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight, severe twist instead of spilling over her shoulders. Surreptitiously looking her up and down, my mouth watered. I was a hips-and-ass man, all the way, and she had the most amazing set of hips. What I wouldn’t have given to run my hands over the slick, clingy leather, but I knew that wouldn’t happen. Not unless she gave me permission anyway.

“Close the door.” She dropped the bag on the table with a thud, and the muffled clink of metal made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

Here we go…

Willing my legs to cooperate in her presence, I quickly did as ordered. The click of the latch sealed us in this sadistic room, and it was all I could do not to back up against the door. To shrink away from her. I wasn’t afraid of her, but intimidated? Nervous? Oh, hell yeah.

Lady Roxanne opened the duffel bag and, piece by piece, laid its contents on the table. Over her shoulder in a terse, sharp voice, she said, “Safe words?” I barely registered what she’d said over the clank, thud, clatter and thunk of the implements she dropped onto the table. Metal, leather, plastic. God, yes, she’d brought all kinds of pain.

Without turning around, she snapped, “Answer me.”

I cleared my throat. “Red and yellow, Mistress.”

She gave a single, slow nod of approval. Her back still turned, she said, “Strip.”

Shouldering myself off the door, I swallowed hard and started unbuttoning my shirt. I couldn’t decide whether to watch her and her bag of tricks, or avert my eyes and try to keep my nerves in check. When we’d met at the munches, she was chattier. Friendly, if a bit aloof. But here, in her natural environment, in the role of the sadistic Domme, she spoke only as much as was required to get the point across. She made every word count. I grinned to myself, glancing at the cane and cat o’ nine tails. Such a Domme probably made every blow count, too.

I folded my clothes and laid them neatly on the chair beside the door. Just as I put my boxers on top of the stack, Lady Roxanne turned around to face me.

I looked back at her. For a long moment, she didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Her expression hadn’t changed since she came through the door.

Finally, she pointed at the floor in front of her. “Come here.”

I obeyed, the hardwood squeaking softly under my bare feet. At her command, I stopped a few feet in front of her.

She walked around me, conspicuously assessing me up and down. The artist sizing up her canvas, the executioner deciding where to drop the ax. That, or she already had it all worked out in her head, and she was just fucking with me.

While she did so, I stole a few surreptitious looks at her. The black leather catsuit clung to her hips and breasts, but cut off at the shoulders, leaving her arms free and unrestrained. A stainless steel zipper up the center kept the material pulled tight across her chest, stopping just below the hollow of her throat. Much as I would have loved to be able to see the skin she hid, I didn’t allow myself to be disappointed. It wasn’t my place, after all.

When she’d finished her inspection or whatever it was she’d been doing, she pointed at the steel frame up against one wall. “Stand under that.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I murmured, and did as ordered.

Without a word, she pulled a length of rope from her duffel bag and went about tying my hands to the horizontal bar above me. We’d already discussed my limits and boundaries. She knew about the old rotator cuff injury that meant I couldn’t tolerate my arms being bound in certain positions, and she tied them accordingly: over my head, but at an angle that didn’t aggravate my shoulder.

She tugged the rope to make sure it would hold. Evidently satisfied it was secure, she said, “Too tight?”

I tested the restraints myself. They weren’t tight enough to cut off circulation or cause pain of an unpleasant variety, but I definitely wasn’t going anywhere. I shook my head. “No, Mistress.”

She walked around me again. Probably admiring her handiwork this time. Maybe a little more plotting and planning. Quite possibly just fucking with me. When she was behind me, I closed my eyes and gulped. Nerves and excitement vied for dominance. I was alone with her, bound, completely at her mercy.

God, yes.

Oh, god.

Contact made me suck in a breath. My restraints creaked against the steel bar, and my senses scrambled to figure out what had touched me, and where, and how, and if it hurt.

A single fingernail. Barely touching at all, just enough pressure to let me know it was, in fact, her nail drifting up the center of my spine.

And damn it, it didn’t hurt. I gritted my teeth. She’d get there. A little teasing, then she’d give me her worst.

As abruptly as it had begun, the contact ceased. The air above my skin thrummed with the absence of her touch, and my nerves searched for a strike, a slap, a scratch. Something. Please, Mistress, please. Something.

I jumped again, pulling in a sharp breath when she ran her fingernails down my side. The sensation almost tickled, my skin anticipating the switch from a light touch to claws digging in at any second. Any second. Any fucking second.

She traced light patterns on my skin. First with nails, then with fingertips, then nails again. Up and down my back. Shoulders. Neck. Into my hair. Along trembling, restrained arms. The absence of pain, of even the gentlest abrasion of nail to flesh, made breathing damn near impossible.

The backs of eight nails slid up either side of my spine in a single row, taunting hungry nerve endings to life, and when her hands stopped on my shoulders, her claws were poised to dig in and make the downward return trip. Eight edges, right there against my skin, with my breath stuck in my lungs while I waited, waited, waited. Rake them down, I silently pleaded. The ghosts of burning vertical streaks tingled in anticipation of the tracks she hadn’t yet left.

And she broke contact once again.

I exhaled hard, grinding my teeth and clenching my fists.

Oh, but she wasn’t finished.

Her footsteps echoed in my consciousness – crack-tap, crack-tap, crack-tap – as she came around in front of me. She stopped. I swallowed. Brow furrowed with intense concentration, she reached for my face.

The backs of her fingers hissed across my jaw. Drifted down my neck. By the time they passed the hollow of my throat and started down my chest, only one finger made contact. My abs contracted with the featherlight touch of that single, gentle finger, and although that moving point of contact was the focal point of my entire awareness, I still wasn’t prepared when she ran it down one side of my hard cock, then the other.

I groaned softly and closed my eyes.

Her hand stopped.

“Don’t close your eyes.”

I opened them. She looked right back at me, one eyebrow lifted in a “don’t make me tell you again” arc. I licked my lips. “Sorry…Mistress.”

She didn’t reply, but her hand started moving again, continuing down so she could tease my balls with one light fingertip. My knees shook more violently than before, my lungs couldn’t decide whether to hold onto my breath or force it out. Then she closed her hand around my cock, and I exhaled. She made slow, gentle strokes, the kind that would have been pure fucking bliss to any other sub who was thankful for the pleasure his Domme gave, but torture to someone dying for a hit of delicious, promised pain.

When she released me and went for that table and its scattered array of weapons, I had to fight to keep my breathing even. Especially when she raised her hand, and stainless steel between her fingers glinted in the low light. Nipple clamps were barely enough to make me flinch anymore, but I had a feeling she could make it hurt like hell.

She started toward me, every high-heeled crack-tap like a slower, amplified version of my heartbeat. I gulped. Nerve endings tingled with anticipation. Just a little sting to get things started. Then she’d move on to the real pain. I couldn’t wait. Jesus, she knew how to tease.

Stopping just inches in front of me, she held the clamp up between two upraised fingers. She squeezed it enough to open it, revealing the tiny teeth on the twin prongs. I bit my lip.

Like she had earlier, she reached for my face, and this time it wasn’t fingers that made contact. The smooth, cool prongs slid over my skin. Along my jaw. Down the side of my throat. Past my collarbone. As the clamp neared my nipple, I closed my eyes and let my head fall back.

“What did I say?” she snapped.

My eyes flew open. “Sorry, Mistress.”

A wordless nod indicated my apology was accepted, and she again focused on working her evil ways. She drew the clamp closer to my nipple. Closer. Closer still. She made progressively smaller circles around it, spiraling closer, and when she pulled it across my nipple, just enough to let the teeth graze sensitive skin, I damn near came unglued.

And it moved further away from my nipple. I expected – hoped – she’d do the same to the other, but instead, she let the prongs drift down my abs. Like they’d done beneath her finger, my stomach muscles contracted, and with every inch of ground she gained, my heart beat faster. She wasn’t really going…she wasn’t…not with a…

Smooth metal traced a meandering line from the head of my cock to the base.

Oh, god, she’s one of those sadists.

A preemptive rush of endorphins washed over me as the tips of the clamp teased my cock, then down to my balls. My heart pounded. I gulped. My senses were once again concentrated on a single moving focal point, ready for the tiny teeth to bite sensitive flesh. Every circle, every change of direction, every fucking move the little prongs made ramped up my pulse, and I was sure at every turn this would be the place she’d close the clamp. Here. Or there. Or, oh god, there.

I didn’t realize I’d stopped breathing until the clamp was suddenly absent. Something – relief? Frustration? A mix of the two? – pushed all the held air out of my burning lungs. Hell if I knew where the lack of oxygen ended and the pain-starved madness began, but my head spun and my knees still trembled. Had my hands not been balled into tight fists, they would have as well, I was sure.

“I won’t say it again,” she growled.

I opened my eyes, wondering when I’d closed them. “Sorry—” I cleared my throat and licked my dry lips. “Sorry, Mistress.”

Lady Roxanne took a step back. She reached for the zipper pull on her catsuit, and my mouth watered. Leather squeaked and metal creaked as she pulled the zipper down, and every inch of newly exposed flesh made my knees shake that much more. The “V” of the zipper widened, deepened, and when her hand passed between her breasts, there was no strip of fabric to indicate the presence of a bra beneath the sleek second skin.

The zipper stopped just below her navel. She slid her hand under her lapel and pushed the catsuit aside, revealing one breast, but that wasn’t the only thing that sent my pulse soaring. Eagerly watching her every move, I followed the nipple clamp in her hand as it headed to her nipple. Goose bumps prickled every inch of my skin when she ran the clamp around the rosy peak. She spiraled closer and closer, the prongs with which she’d teased me inching dangerously close and—

Oh. Fucking. Hell.

She clamped it onto her own nipple and sucked in a hiss of breath, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back. A rush of cool water flooded my veins like phantom endorphins. My own nipples tingled when she pulled the clamp. Twisted it. Pulled it again. A soft whimper escaped her lips, and thank God for my restraints because my knees damn near buckled.

She looked at me, eyes half-closed and lips parted, the face of pure bliss. When she bit her lower lip, the corners pulled up into a sly grin. She had what I wanted, and she knew it. Hell if I could decide if she looked more arousing or infuriating, especially when she took the damned clamp off and zipped up the fucking catsuit again.

Then she clipped the nipple clamp to her zipper pull, keeping it within easy reach, and it taunted and teased me as it swung back and forth, catching the light on its stainless contours. Out of my reach, just like everything I needed and wanted and craved.

Lady Roxanne reached up to touch my hands, and when she did, she frowned. “Your fingers are getting cool.” She unfastened one of the ties. Then the other. As I brought my hands down, my fingers tingled with the rush of blood. After I’d had a chance to flex them and get the blood flowing again, she bound my hands behind my back.

While she knotted the rope, frustration tightened my chest. I gritted my teeth, but forced my breathing to stay slow, deep, and even. Though I was glad she was conscientious enough to be vigilant about my circulation, this pause to reconfigure my bindings was an aggravating delay. Precious seconds between now and the pain she’d thus far denied me.

That momentary downtime also gave me a second to catch my breath. To relax muscles that had tensed with anticipation and frustration. I didn’t dare look at the clock, didn’t want to know how much time had or hadn’t passed. My stomach fluttered and my heart pounded. Cool sweat rolled down the back of my neck. My skin sizzled in search of sting, thud, burn, bite, something goddammit.

So this is what jonesing feels like.

She tugged the bindings, then let go. “Too tight?”

“No, Mistress.”

Silence. Stillness. The downtime was over. My heart beat faster and harder, waiting for her next move.

When at last she moved, she went – crack-tap, crack-tap, crack-tap – to the table, and I watched her look over her toys and tools. One by one, she picked up an implement, then put it back. Then another, and put it back. The cane. The cat o’ nine tails. Another nipple clamp. I doubted she was really being indecisive. A Domme like her would have had this entire scene planned from beginning to end. This was to unnerve me, I was sure of it, and it worked.

Finally, she picked up a crop whip. Long, black, with a folded piece of leather at the end that promised to hurt like hell if she permitted it to.

Standing in front of me, she looked me right in the eye, daring me to even think about breaking eye contact. Then she raised her hand, and the crop whistled through the air before hitting her other arm with a smack that reverberated down my spine. She bit her lip and moaned.

Oh, you tease. You evil, evil tease.

I pulled at my restraints, my mouth watering and my nails digging into my palms.

Three times, she hit her own arm. Each time, she whimpered, gasped, shivered, and I couldn’t take my eyes off that beautiful, darkening welt. I wanted it. God, I wanted it.

When she raised the whip again, it was definitely intended for me. Arm across her chest, hand above her opposite shoulder, poised for a backhanded, downward strike, most likely to my thigh. The target area tingled. The muscle quivered. I held my breath. She held the whip still. We held each other’s gazes.

Then she let fly.

The whip whistled through the air.

Arced toward me.

On a collision course with bare flesh.

And it stopped.

A half an inch shy of my leg, with the kind of precision and control that would make a fencer weep, it stopped. The leather flap met my skin with the feeblest of taps, and all the nearby nerve endings tingled almost to the point of itching, my senses confused by the lack of pain, the lack of anything.

And Lady Roxanne laughed. The woman fucking laughed. Behind my back, my hands curled into tight fists. I clenched my teeth so hard they hurt, and not in the way I needed.

She switched hands and raised it again, holding it above the opposite shoulder, and my senses went haywire. Would she? Wouldn’t she? Keep my guard up? Call her bluff?

I took the deepest breath I could. Whether she opted to hit me this time or keep teasing me until I was just this side of out of my mind, there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it either way.

She lowered her arm to her side. I didn’t know how the hell to react to that except to follow her with my eyes when she went to that table once again. All I could do was wait, and for what, God – and Lady Roxanne – only knew.

The whip clattered onto the table. “Get on your knees.”

My knees touched cold wood before my mind had even processed the command. What next? I breathed as deeply and evenly as I could. God, what next?

Crack-tap. Crack-tap. Crack-tap.

She was behind me again.

She dragged one fingernail down the back of my neck and down the center of my spine, pressing in just enough to hint at pain, that vague burn that wasn’t quite pain, and she drew it all the way down to where my hands were tied. Goose bumps prickled my back and arms, and that hint of a burn seared its way into my consciousness. Normally I wouldn’t have even felt pain that mild, but tonight it would have knocked my knees out from under me had I not already been kneeling.

Her hand moved up the length of my spine. I closed my eyes and exhaled as her touch once again raised goose bumps. As her fingers drifted into my hair, I shivered.

Her fingers suddenly tightened in my hair, and she jerked my head back. Surprise and pain – sweet, sweet, pain, oh god, yes – knocked the breath out of my lungs. I shivered, and I thought I heard myself moan. It burned, it stung, and it felt so…damned…good.

I was vaguely aware of her other hand trailing around my side to my chest, but it was the hand in my hair that held my attention. On some level, some remaining fragment of coherent consciousness, I couldn’t believe such minor pain had me so enraptured, but it did, and it didn’t matter if I—

The nipple clamp came out of nowhere.

For a split second, my vision went white, and I choked on my own breath. She pulled my hair harder. Twisted the clamp just enough to keep that fire going. So. Unbelievably. Intense. All the endorphins that had been waiting, waiting, waiting, released at once, flooding my veins and liquefying my spine.

“Is this what you wanted?” Her breath cooled the sweat on the side of my neck.

“Yes.” I paused to take a breath. “Yes, Mistress.”

“I thought so.”

She released my hair. Took the nipple clamp off. Untied my hands. Moved away from me. No, no, we can’t be done. This can’t be over. Mistress, please… I couldn’t even hear her footsteps this time over my thundering heart, but I was aware she was moving. Away, and back. Behind me again.

Something rattled. Familiar. Like dull raindrops. Couldn’t place it.

Leather against leather.

I glanced at the table and realized the cat o’ nine tails was gone. Oh, hell yes. The rattling ceased, but the implement was within her reach now, it had to be.

Flat, soft leather hit my shoulder. Lingered there. Slid down my back. Then the other shoulder. Then back again. It was a soft flogger, I guessed, to warm up my skin before she let me have it with the cat o’ nine. I barely felt it, was barely aware she even struck me with it or how much time passed while she did. All I could focus on was the space on the table where the more brutal implement had been, and the lingering tingle in my scalp and on my nipple. More pain. Soon, thank God, more pain.

The soft flogger stopped. Something rattled behind me. In my mind’s eye, I saw her switching from the flogger to the cat o’ nine, and I shivered.

Leather rattled again. I pulled in a breath. Finally.

Whoosh.

Tap.

How the fuck was it possible to hit someone gently with a cat o’ nine tails? How? I gritted my teeth. Again the knotted tails landed on my back with all the force of the dull raindrops they’d sounded like rattling against each other earlier. The third strike was just as aggravatingly painless. The hyperawareness in my senses faded, tired of my brain crying “wolf” and getting them psyched up for something painful that never came, never came, never came.

Another dull, lifeless tap.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

The tails whooshed through the air again.

A hundred beestings reignited those apathetic nerve endings, and I grunted. Before I could recover, a whole swarm stung me again. And again. And again. All the pain I’d craved and ached for and been denied came down, wave upon overwhelming wave of fire and bliss and oh, god, yes, yes, yes. My head spun faster every time she hit me.

“Elliott.” Her voice penetrated the delirious haze. “Touch yourself, but do not come.”

As ordered, my hand moving on autopilot, I closed my fingers around my cock. I hadn’t even realized how turned on I was until the first stroke almost set me off. The pain, the pleasure, the anticipation, the restraint. Everything I’d craved. Nowhere near enough. Too much to handle. More, please, more. Don’t come. Oh god, I’m gonna come. Don’t come.

Skin stung. Vision blurred. Spine tingled. Endorphins and adrenaline and oh god - oh god -  oh god surged through me to every nerve ending, every inch of skin, every place that hurt and every place that didn’t. There was nothing in the world but here, now, pain, her. The walls around us with their dungeon décor and out-of-place corporate clock, the hardwood beneath my knees, the air I couldn’t quite fucking breathe, it all faded into a hazy red blur, a cloud of irrelevance, leaving me in this sphere of sweet, sweet pain.

Here, there existed, no sound except leather on flesh, my own ragged breathing, and just when I couldn’t hold back anymore, came Lady Roxanne’s voice.

“Come.”

The force of my orgasm knocked me forward. I caught myself on one hand, still stroking my cock with the other as I screwed my eyes shut and fucking lost it. Strike after strike, pulse after pulse, stroke after stroke, it wouldn’t quit. Any of it. Hypersensitivity made the pain more intense. The pain made my orgasm more intense. Each fed the other, each was too much, and painful ecstasy brought tears to my eyes.

I shuddered one last time as my orgasm subsided. My supporting arm shook, barely holding me upright. I sat back on my heels, praying my spine didn’t collapse, and struggled just to remember how to breathe. I anticipated that crash, that moment when bliss dropped me on my ass back in reality and left me a shivering, exhausted mess. Every time I started to slide toward that drop, though, fresh pain burned its way across my back and kept the flow of endorphins going.

Then the tails came down with less force. Every few strokes, lighter still. Soon, the sharpness was gone, each strike dull and flat, so she must have switched back to the other flogger. The sting was still there as the tails struck raw skin, but no fresh pain came.

Eventually, the leather stopped, and now it was just skin on skin. Her hands kneaded my shoulders, pressing hard enough to keep the pain alive and the endorphins flowing. Then gentler. Gentler. A little gentler.

After a while, nothing. My senses searched for her and found her taking a few steps away. Crack-tap, crack-tap, crack-tap. Then returning. Crack-tap, crack-tap, crack-tap. Leather creaked behind me. Something soft came to rest on my shoulders, falling lightly onto my back. She wrapped the blanket around me, then continued gently kneading my shoulders through it.

I was tempted to shrug the soft fabric off my stinging skin, but I knew as the endorphins wore off, the chill that descended would have been uncomfortably cold without the blanket, so I let it be.

My back burned. Every nerve ending sizzled and crackled like live wires. Piece by piece, the room around me came back into existence. My eyes were closed, so I didn’t see any of it, but it was…there. My sphere of awareness slowly encompassed a broader space, a world beyond the pain.

I released a long, relieved breath. There would be no crash this time. She’d eased me back out of subspace, gently bringing me back to earth.

“Feel all right?” she asked, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

I nodded and licked my dry lips.

For a long, long time, she rubbed the back of my neck. God damn, that feels good.

“Can you stand?” she asked eventually.

“One way to find out.”

She offered her hand. I clasped her forearm and she helped me to my feet. Once I was upright, she held onto my arm while my trembling knees figured out how to keep me that way. I took a deep breath and let it go.

Finally, I looked at her and whispered, “Thank you, Mistress.”

Lady Roxanne smiled. “My pleasure, Elliott.” She ran the backs of her fingers down my cheek. “We’re done for the night.” She gestured at my clothes. “Go ahead and get dressed, but leave your shirt off. I want to put some lotion on your back.”

With a shaking hand, I picked up my boxers. Then I glanced at her. “Would I be out of line asking if you’d be willing to do this again?”

“Oh, I think I could be persuaded.” The smile turned to a devilish grin. “And if you’re good, maybe I’ll make sure that next time, it really hurts.”

The End

www.loriawitt.com

TEMPTED

Dark Lust

Copyright © Jenika Snow 2011

Chapter One

I had the worst fucking hangover imaginable. As my eyes slowly adjusted to my hazy surroundings, I tried to remember what happened. I could still taste the alcohol on my tongue from the night’s festivities. I tried in vain to remember what had happened, but aside from the wild party I attended with my friends and the many shots of whiskey I had consumed, everything else was a blank.

The next thing I realized, with clarity, was that I was butt-ass naked. I blinked several times and glanced around. I was in someone’s bedroom, if the monstrous king-sized bed and dark wood furniture were anything to go by. A fire was lit off to the side, the heat from the flames unable to penetrate the chill that surrounded me. A table was opposite the fireplace, a thick, velvety looking cloth covering it and concealing whatever was hidden beneath it.

A sharp ache settled in my arms and shoulders. I tried to move but I was immobile. I lifted my gaze above me and tried to move my hands, but realized some type of soft material was tied around them. A pulley type system was erected above me and the rope attached to my wrists was secured into it.

The chilled air brushed along my bare pussy lips and I glanced down, just now realizing my legs were obscenely spread open and the same soft material was tied around my ankles, keeping them spread wide. My heart pounded against my ribcage as I became fully aware of the situation I was in. I closed my eyes and tried desperately to remember what happened.

Loud music and laughter filtered through my mind. Images of people grinding to music and downing copious amounts of liquor flashed behind my eyes like a movie reel. I snapped my eyes open, my breathing becoming ragged as I tried once again to break my bonds. Either my captor was a sailor with a crazy talent for tying knots, or whoever kidnapped me had done this before. I voted on the latter.

The sound of a door creaking open had me snapping my head in that direction. I squinted, trying to see through the thick shadows that were scattered throughout the room. Light from the hallway suddenly spilled in and I blinked against the sudden onslaught of brightness. I saw a rather large profile fill the doorway. Whoever it was didn’t move and I couldn’t see their face, but I knew the person was staring right at me, could practically feel their gaze on my breasts and pussy.

I was suddenly conscious of my nudity and the way my nipples were pebbled hard. I wanted to snap my legs together because I knew my pussy lips were spread open and the pink flesh of my cunt was fully exposed. I swallowed roughly and watched as my captor walked inside. I could tell it was a man just from the sheer size of him, which I admit was quite intimidating.

He left the door open as he sauntered in and walked over to the fire. My eyes widened as the firelight glinted across his face and body, finally giving me a view of who I was really dealing with. An image from the previous night, or maybe it was the same night, slammed into my brain. I would have stumbled back from the force of it, if not for the fact that I was stringed up like some kind of sacrificial offering.

I remembered him from the party, remembered how he wasn’t alone, but with three other men. No, I reminded myself, they were far from men. They were vampires. You see, the world I live in is far from what someone might call normal. Vampires are real, living, breathing entities that hold jobs, run business, even own property in the wealthiest neighborhoods.

Vampires had only made themselves know for the last thirty years. I wasn’t nearly old enough to remember a time when vampires were considered myth and fable. Of course I had read about the world before vampires came along, read how movies portrayed them as seducers and killers. This of course was true as well. They were seducers, fabled to be the best at what they did, which of course was fucking and sucking. Not my words.

I shivered at the thought of this man, this powerful creature piercing my neck with his wicked fangs and lapping at my blood. The thing was, I had a secret, one I had never divulged to anyone before. I had always dreamed of being with one of his kind, fantasized about what it would be like to submit fully to them, give them what they wanted between my thighs and coursing through my veins.

The thought alone made my cunt heat and moisture pooled down there. I licked my suddenly dry lips, hoping my wetness didn’t trickle out of me and confirm my true desires. I should be mortified right now, scared shitless that I was alone in a room with a vampire. I wasn’t stupid or naive. I knew what he wanted. He wouldn’t have me tied up like this if he didn’t plan on doing wicked things to me.

“I would like to welcome you to my home.” His voice was deep and smooth, like the whiskey I had consumed at the party.

My traitorous body lit up like a firework. He turned to face me and I exhaled. I couldn’t help but feel an intense attraction for him. I tried to remind myself he had kidnapped me and probably planned on killing me, but still, I couldn’t help the ache that settled in my clit.

He smiled widely and I got the first real glimpse of his fangs. They were impressive, big and long and telling of what he used them for.

“I am pleasantly surprised at your reaction. I feared how you would truly react once you woke, but I see you are quite responsive to the situation.” He stepped closer and I smelled a powerful aphrodisiac-like aroma. It was potent, like crisp, clean mountain air. “You see, sweet Athena, I have been watching you for quite some time.”

The fact that he knew my name, a name that was older than time was a little unnerving. What can I say, my parents had a fascination with Greek Gods.

I had never seen him before, aside from the party, he was a stranger to me. Here he stood, smiling at me, his gaze skimming along my body, proclaiming he had been watching me. A chill raced up my spine and I made a small noise in the back of my throat.

“Why am I here? What do you plan on doing to me?” I tested my bonds again and heard him chuckle. His finger touched my lips, the cool digit causing my flesh to pebble with awareness.

“Shhh, in time all will be revealed.” He dropped his hand and dipped his gaze to my breasts. The next seemed to go in slow motion and I watched helplessly. His palm skimmed over my breasts, the roughness of it scrapping along my turgid nipple and drawing a moan from me.

“Ah, I see we aren’t quite the prisoner after all, are we?” He took my nipple and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. My whole body loosened and I realized I was arching into his touch, thrusting my breasts into his waiting fingers.

He pulled and tweaked until I was moaning loudly and panting with need. My cunt throbbed, my clit so engorged I swear my heart was beating in it.

“Please, I want to leave.” The statement sounded pathetic even to my ears. The way I felt, so hot and horny, I knew I had no desire to leave. I did, however, want to know what the hell was going on. Thankfully he stepped away from me. I took a deep breath, willing my body to come down from the high he had caused.

His face became stoic and I knew whatever was about to happen was either going to be very, very good, or horribly bad.

I gasped as three more men entered the room and made their way to the foot of the bed. They were the three men I had seen him with at the party.

“We have so many wicked things planned for you, sweet Athena.” They all smiled brightly, four sets of fangs flashing bright white and promising a night filled with either pleasure…or pain.

Chapter Two

“Oh, God,” I whispered, staring at each of them with a look I didn’t doubt was of horror. In all reality I wasn’t frightened of these men, per se, but of what their devilish smiles promised. Arousal was a hot poker inside my stomach, coiling tight and just waiting for the right stimulation to come to the surface.

“No, sweetness, God has nothing to do with what we are going to do to you.” The one who spoke stepped forward. He was beefier then the rest, but not as tall. They all wore casual attire that didn’t hide the raw muscles beneath the material. His muscles strained against the fabric of his shirt and hinted on power beyond imagination.

“You are not a prisoner. On the contrary, you are our guest, our very special guest.” He ran his finger down the side of my neck and inhaled deeply. He leaned close to me so that I felt his warm breath along my ear. “We have been watching you, Athena. Waiting for the right moment to bring you here and give you what you’ve been dreaming of.”

How could they know this was what I had fantasized about? How could they know I had always wanted to be dominated by a vampire since I knew what sex was? Although my thoughts sounded logical, the way they all stared at me hinted that maybe I hadn’t hid my own desires well enough. Am I that transparent?

I took a moment to really look at the four men. They were all gorgeous, each one having an otherworldly appearance. Two of them had midnight colored hair and chests so toned their eight packs stood out in stark relief against the shadows and firelight. The other two had lighter hair and physiques much like the others.

The one by my ear pulled back and I could see that his eyes were such a startling blue they reminded me of the Caribbean waters. We held each other’s stare for a moment and then he stepped back with the others. The one that had entered the room first took a step forward.

“Before we begin, I think it only proper to introduce ourselves.” He shifted to the side and gestured to the man that had whispered in my ear. “That is Eero and his brother Aram.” Both men inclined their heads as if this was just a social meeting, and I wasn’t nude and restrained with my arms above my head. “The dark haired fellow is Ibrahim, and I am Boden.”

They all stared at me, like they expected me to respond kindly to their pleasantries. “Let me go.” They all chuckled and my anger grew. “You know this is illegal.”

Boden took a step forward and once again his intoxicating scent washed through me. “We are immortals, my sweet Athena. Do you think the laws of humans can hold us accountable?”

I found his attitude very arrogant, but it also turned me on. Maybe it was my helplessness, maybe because there were four of them and they screamed dominance, or maybe it was just because this was actually my fantasy coming true. Whatever it was, I don’t think what I had to say held much ground. “If you don’t let me go then I am a prisoner.” Boden took another step forward until his lips were hairbreadths away from mine.

“You are our prisoner, sweet Athena. Tell me you want to go. Tell me you haven’t ached for what we can give you.” His gaze dipped down to my lips and I licked them involuntarily. “Your desires are easily projected on your face, Athena.”

“I don’t know any of you.”

“You may not know us by blood, but your body recognizes what it has lusted after for years. Have you not wanted to be with one of my species? Tasted what domination and submission truly is?” His hands landed on my hips and I shook from the force. “Let us open your eyes, give you a taste of what you have yearned for.” His lips slanted against mine and I moaned. His tongue swept along the seam of my mouth and I opened, tasting him, needing him.

He pulled back slightly. “Tell me you don’t want this and you are free to go.” His whispered words tickled my lips.

Did I want this? To be their prisoner and submit to them fully? Did I want to let my inhibitions go? So many questions slammed into my mind all at once that I felt the world tilt.

“Tell me what you crave. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

I knew what I wanted, knew that if I didn’t let myself feel this one surrender I would be missing something in my life. They may have taken me, or maybe they saved me. I didn’t know, but I was damn sure going to find out.

I leaned forward and captured his mouth. I ran my tongue along his lips and was pleased when he speared his fingers through my hair and titled my head. The kiss deepened and he pressed closer to me. I felt his hard cock press into my belly, realized how huge he was, and ached to feel him inside me.

“I want to hear you say it. I want you to say you’ll submit to us, that you want us to show you what it is really like to be with an immortal.” Boden stepped back and I watched in fascination as the four of them unbuttoned their pants. The cocks they revealed rivaled any I had ever seen. Not only were they hard as a rock, they were also thick as my wrist and longer then I thought possible. I swallowed in fear, wondering if those monsters between their legs would even fit in my pussy.

For a second I couldn’t find my voice, so I cleared my throat and tried to speak calmly. “I want it. I want to know what it’s like.”

All four men smirked, a small lift of their lips as they glanced at one another. As if they communicated without saying a word, Boden stepped forward and ran his tongue up my throat. Hot tendrils of desire spiked through me and I shivered. He started to suck at my flesh, right at my pulse. His hands moved over my hips and snuck beneath, until he cupped my ass. He curved his hips toward me and I felt the hard length of him rub along my slit. I was so wet, so soaked that his cock slipped easily between my folds and bumped my clit erotically.

I started to ride his cock as best I could, and realized I was so close to coming it would only take a few more bumps against the swollen bud of my clitoris and I would explode. As if Boden realized this he nipped my neck and stepped away. He was on his knees in front of me before I could even inhale. I looked down and watched as he untied one of my ankles and brought my leg over his shoulder. His moist breath teased my cunt and I wanted to press myself against him. His big hand on my inner thigh stopped any movements I might have had.

He started to lap at my pussy like a madman. He took his thumbs and pulled my labia apart while his mouth suctioned to my clit with fervor. I could see my engorged clit stand out and felt slightly embarrassed over the fact. As if he knew what my thoughts were, he ran his tongue over the bundle of nerve endings and then ever-so-slowly pulled away so only a light string of his saliva followed. I wouldn’t have thought I’d find that kind of sight erotic, but seeing it made my belly tingle with need.

I groaned and glanced at the other three men right in front of me. They held their cocks in hand, stroking themselves quickly, their gazes riveted to what Boden was doing to me.

Eero flicked his gaze to mine and smirked. “Do you like Boden sucking at that pretty cunt? Do you like it when we watch, baby?”

I nodded, his explicit words sparking my pleasure even higher. Eeron stepped forward and took a strand of my hair, running it between his fingers. His mouth was slightly open and I noticed his fangs, those piercing twin points, and a fresh gush of moisture trickled from my pussy. Boden groaned, which caused delicious vibrations to travel through my clit. Eeron latched his mouth onto mine and started flicking his tongue against mine. His kiss was more aggressive, wilder than Boden’s.

Boden’s hand skimmed over my belly, his fingers splayed as he applied some pressure. I hadn’t realized until now how hard I had been thrusting my hips forward, pressing my sopping cunt against his mouth. As Eeron kissed me, I felt a hot, wet tongue slide along my nipple. I gasped, but Eeron cupped the back of my neck and kept our mouths fused.

Eeron broke the kiss after an agonizing erotic minute and moved behind me. He brushed my hair off my neck and started kissing my shoulder. I glanced over and saw Aram licking my nipple while he looked up at me. His pink tongue came out and ran a circle around my areola and then his teeth followed by grabbing the engorged bud between them and biting down gently. The sight was erotic and had me arching my chest into his mouth, needing more, wanting all he had to give.

I gasped and tilted my head back. I closed my eyes, absorbing the multitude of sensations. Just when I thought I would come, they backed off on their ministrations. It was frustrating, but I realized, when they renewed their efforts my arousal grew even hotter, stronger.

I stared at Ibrahim, the only vampire yet to touch me. He was stroking his cock while his other hand cupped his balls. “Oh, God, I’m so close,” I whispered, my sight on the monstrous flesh hard and pointing toward me in Ibrahim’s palm. My breathing was so erratic I thought I would pass out from hypoxia.

Ibrahim stepped forward and cupped the breast getting no attention. He was surprisingly gentle with his caress, but I wasn’t fooled. He dipped his head and started sucking at my nipple, just as Aram did with the other. The dual sensations bombarded me and I couldn’t hold off any longer. My knees shook as my climax fast approached. I thought they would all back off, but they didn’t, just sucked harder, faster.

I threw my head back and groaned loudly, thrashing as the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced nearly paralyzed me. Juices poured out of me, and Boden sucked my pussy harder. The sound of deep male grunts and slippery flesh echoed throughout the room. When the pleasure descended, all I could do was hang my head and urge my heart to slow to a more normal beat.

They moved away from me, and I felt the air chill my overheated skin. I wondered if I would survive the rest of the night.

As if he read my mind, Boden spoke gruffly. “We’ve only just begun, Athena.”

Chapter Three

The ties binding me loosened and strong arms wrapped around me. I opened my eyes and realized I was being carried to the opulent bed. The first thing I noticed was the satin sheets. They were the color of midnight and caressed my overheated body like a lover. Although I had been sated, the image of the four vampires touching me so thoroughly made me wet all over again.

I lifted onto my elbows and watched Boden while he stood at the foot of the bed. The others were on either side of me, their glorious cocks hard and straining forward.

“Spread your legs, Athena. Let me see that pretty pussy.”

Boden’s words were tangible, touching every exposed part of me and causing my cunt to clench. I wanted his cock inside me. I wanted all of their cocks filling me, hard and fast.

I opened my thighs and heard a collective groan fill the room. I knew my pussy was swollen, could feel my pulse throb just under the sensitive tissue as if it were alive.

“Touch yourself. I want to see your fingers buried inside your cunt.”

Breathing heavily, I obeyed. I slipped my hand across my breasts and down my stomach. I moved my other hand down the same path and rested my fingers right above my clit. I bent my knees wider and used my thumbs to pull my pussy lips apart. I saw the hungry look in Boden’s eyes, heard the sound of flesh slapping together as the other vampires beat off. My cunt was soaked, my juices slipping down the crack of my ass.

Bodin climbed onto the bed, his eyes trained on where my finger was circling my hole. The way he licked his lips and groaned as I sank my finger inside my body, had me arching my back in desire. I thrust my fingers inside and gasped at how good it felt. I pumped them several times, holding on as my body rushed toward another orgasm.

“Come here.” His deep, commanding words were not to be disobeyed. I pulled my sopping fingers out and moved toward him. He snagged my hand and brought the digits to his mouth, sucking off my cream with enthusiasm. “Turn around.”

I looked at the other men, saw Eeron move onto the bed and realized what was about to happen. Trepidation and a sliver of fear lanced through me. I had never had sex with a vampire let alone a three-way. I knew a vampire’s desire could be lascivious, demanding and potent. How would it feel to be fucked by two at the same time I wondered? I got on my hands and knees, keenly aware that my ass and pussy were right in Bodin’s line of vision. Eeron’s cock was standing hard in front of my face, the slit seeping pre-cum and tempting me to taste. Eeron gripped the root of his dick just as I lowered my head.

“Put my cock in that pretty mouth of yours.”

He rubbed the slick tip along my lips and I hummed in approval. I opened my mouth to engulf Eeron just as I felt Bodin’s hands slip between my thighs, spreading them wider.

Eeron grunted and murmured his pleasure. “Oh, yeah. So good, Athena, so fucking good.”

I heard the rapid panting from all the men, even heard the sound of fists moving over hard cocks as Aram and Ibrahim jerked off. I wanted to watch them masturbate, wanted to see their palms caressing those heavy rods as they got off on what was being done to me. I opened my mouth as wide as I could, my jaw feeling like it would come unhinged as I tried to take as much of Eeron as possible. He held the root of his shaft firmly as I ran my tongue along the crested head. The skin beneath my tongue was smooth and steely, salty yet sweet. It was like nothing I had ever tasted before.

I gasped when I felt Bodin’s mouth at the apex of my thighs again, his tongue moving through my wet folds, licking, sucking. His hands had my ass spread wide, the air teasing my anus promised more things to come.

“You taste so good. I could fucking eat you out all night.” Bodin’s words were muffled against my wet flesh, sending delicious vibrations through me.

I closed my eyes and started to move my head up and down, feeling the crown of Eeron’s erection bump against the back of my throat. I held still and swallowed, feeling my muscles clamp down on the tip and hearing his growl of approval. I moved his hand out of the way and gripped the root, stroking what I couldn’t reach.

Hands caressed every inch of my body. I didn’t know who it was, didn’t even care. The magnitude of sensations was a sensory overload and I thought I would pass out from the sheer pleasure of it.

Bodin covered my back with his chest, his cock straining forward and running along my cleft. His skin against mine felt slightly chilled, hard and unmoving. I could positively feel the muscles moving just below his flesh, knew that the power he wielded, they all wielded, could destroy me with no more than a flick of their fingers. The thought was exhilarating, dangerous and arousing all in the same breath.

My eyes snapped open in shock when I felt him run his fangs down my spine, those wicked, sharp teeth lightly scraping my flesh, causing a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Are you ready? Ready to take both of us, Athena?” Eeron shifted beneath me until his cock slid free of my mouth. I still tasted him, felt the slickness of his pre-cum coat my taste bud. My lips felt swollen from sucking his shaft. I lifted my eyes to Eeron for a second before looking over my shoulder to see Bodin’s half lidded eyes. He looked feral and filled with dark lust. His fangs touched his bottom lip. For a split second I toyed with the idea of how it would feel to have those fangs inside my skin, piercing me until I was lost in sensation. I looked at the other two men, all of them having the same expressions on their faces. Heavy lidded lust.

I nodded, almost shyly. My pussy clamped down hard, excitement and trepidation waging a war inside me.

“Straddle me, baby.” Eeron helped me so that I was on top of him, my legs spread wide on each of his muscular thighs. His erection nudged my opening and I held my breath. I knew what was happening and I swallowed roughly. I had never had two men at the same time before, had never taken one in my ass.

I rested my hands on Eeron’s chest, felt his heart slamming against my palm in response. He gripped my waste tightly and I reached between our bodies. I gripped his cock and he groaned in response.

“Your touch feels so good.”

I bit my bottom lip as I angled the head of his cock to the opening of my pussy. At the same time I felt something cool and wet coat my anus. I didn’t bother looking back to see what Bodin was doing, for I knew he was preparing me for his penetration. I removed my hand and curled my fingers against Eeron’s pectoral muscles as I slowly sank down on his thick flesh. The burn was like nothing I had ever felt before, intense and explosive. I stretched around his girth and my eyes rolled back as ecstasy washed through me. There was pain, but the pleasure far outweighed any discomfort. He was just so big, so thick and long that I felt fully filled.

“Oh fuck, Athena. You are so tight and hot.”

We both moaned when I was fully seated on him. My pussy clamped down hard around him and his cock jerked in response. I licked my lips and felt Bodin’s large hand press down on the middle of my back. I leaned forward, felt someone caress my cheek, and looked over to stare into Aram’s heated expression. He was kneeling on the bed, his shaft aimed at me. I knew what he wanted, knew he wanted me to take his shaft into my mouth while I was being fucked. I leaned over and engulfed his cock with enthusiasm.

Just as I was really getting into sucking his dick, I felt Bodin’s fingers circle my anus. He slipped one inside, then another, until he was scissoring the digits inside me, readying me for his invasion. His fingers were thick and the burn of pain presented itself. If only his fingers hurt, I worried how it would feel when he actually stuffed his cock into my ass. He removed the digits and pressed the hot, hard tip of his shaft against my anus. I stiffened, waiting for the inevitable burn of pain to slam into me.

He started to press in and I closed my eyes and braced myself. I continued sucking Aram, trying to keep his pleasure going even though simultaneous things were happening to me. The pain seemed almost unbearable at first, but then an intense pleasure bloomed within me and far outweighed the discomfort. Eeron’s fingers dug into my hipbones and I felt his cock jerk again.

The sound of wet suckling resounded through the room. I renewed my efforts on Aram’s cock, feeling a shot of spunk hit the back of my throat and I knew he was close.

“Suck it, Athena. Suck my cock until I come in your mouth.” I heard Aram swallow roughly and glanced up to see him staring down at me, a heavy lidded look filled with dark desires.

Bodin continued to tunnel his cock in my ass and when he was fully inside me the three of us moaned loudly. As if the sound set off Aram, he started to fuck my face with fervor.

“So good. So fucking good, Athena.” His erection twitched in my mouth and when his body tensed, jet after jet of creamy cum slid down my throat. He gripped my hair, the sting of pain causing my own lust to intensify.

I swallowed all of his jizz, lapping at his shaft until his shaft grew semi-erect in my mouth and he pulled away. I looked into his face, my mouth numb, my jaw aching. He bent down and kissed me deeply, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, his flavor mixing between us. Then he withdrew into the shadows.

Bodin ran his hands down my back while Eeron gripped one of my breasts and started pulling at my nipple. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, moaning loudly from the intense pleasure. The sensations were indescribable and left my brain scrambled and my body on fire. Bodin started to pull out of my ass and when only the tip was lodged inside he slammed back in. Eeron stayed still, our eyes locked, his fingers twisting and pulling at my turgid nipples.

“Oh, Athena, you feel so fucking good.” I felt Bodin’s warm breath by my ear, felt his hand grab a chunk of my hair and pull ever so slightly. I opened my mouth again in pleasure and turned to look at him. He kept a firm grip on my hair, keeping my head back, my throat exposed.

“I’m going to fuck your ass so good you’ll scream my name.” We kissed then, his mouth devouring mine as his hips pistoned in and out. His cock was huge and, although the discomfort had been there, a slow burn of pleasure started to take its place.

Eeron moved then, retreating when Bodin slammed into my ass, shoving his cock into me when Bodin pulled out.

“Grip the headboard and don’t let go.” The command came from Eeron and it wasn’t to be disobeyed. I wrapped my fingers around the cold, wrought iron bars, the temperature so different from my own overheated body.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby. So. Fucking. Hard.”

They became madmen, pulling out and slamming back into me in unison. I squeaked in surprise and then moaned when Bodin smacked my ass, the sound and sting enticing.

“You like when we fuck you? You like my cock buried in your ass and Eeron shoved up your cunt?”

I couldn’t speak, only feel the stark pleasure.

Smack! Smack!

“Oh. My. God.” The feeling of his palm against my ass, the burn it created was incredible.

Smack! Smack!

“You like that pain, Athena? Like when I fucking smack this perfect ass?”

“Yes! Oh, yes!” Bodin’s words ignited me, heated my entire body and sent me to new heights of ecstasy. He kissed the side of my neck and I prayed for him to pierce my throat. I wanted to feel it, wanted to feel the connection between us. Eeron lifted up slightly, never stopping as he pumped into me. He licked the other side of my throat and I felt my climax fast approach.

“Oh, yes. I’m so close,” I panted. Their fangs grazed my flesh and I tensed as my orgasm started to peak. Just as the pleasure washed through me I felt them bite down. The pain lasted only a moment and then the most euphoric sensation I had ever felt had me bowing and screaming. I moved my hips, swiveled, pumped them, needing them deeper, wanting them to go harder. They grunted against my neck and I heard them sucking, felt them drawing out my blood.

When my climax started to descend, they retracted their fangs and both shouted out in unison. The wicked feel of their hot spunk shooting inside me had me gasping as another, smaller orgasm coiled within me. I collapsed on top of Eeron, felt someone release my death grip on the bars, as smooth hands caressed my back. I was slightly aware of Bodin pulling out of my ass, but exhaustion was heavy within me and my body was like a ragdoll.

Eeron pulled out of me next and I rolled off him to lie on my back, my stomach hollowing with every ragged breath. My skin was slick with perspiration, my body finally cooling. They flanked me, wrapping their arms around me and running their fingers over my body. My whole body pulsed with the feeling of being alive. My pussy ached, my neck throbbed, but those dual sensations left a smile of satisfaction on my face.

As I lay there, exhaustion lulling me to sleep, my last thought was that two had fucked the hell out of me, and I still had two more to go.

Chapter Four

I woke up to someone sucking on my breast and hands sliding over my thigh. I peeled my eyes open, immediately feeling the ache in my body from my earlier activities. Aram’s head was bent low, his tongue swirling over my areola and engorged peak. Ibrahim was watching me, his fingers deftly moving over my flesh and edging closer and closer to my pussy.

I don’t know how much time had actually passed, but for someone who had just been thoroughly fucked, I was surprised that my body heated all over again. Aram lifted his head and moved up my body. He captured my mouth with his and I lifted my hands to spear them through his hair, but before I could do the act, he had my wrists secured in his hand and moved them above my head. He kissed my jaw, running his tongue up and down, his teeth gently grazing.

Ibrahim spread my legs and caressed my inner thighs, his thumbs swirling over my skin. I became wet all over again. His warm breath puffed against my pussy, and I felt his desire with every flick of his tongue. I lifted my hips in invitation, desperate to feel his hot, wet tongue slide against me harder. To my disappointment, he moved up my body and started kissing the other side of my neck. Feeling both of their mouths on me, their tongues lapping at my pulse was enough to make me beg softly.

“Shhh. You are ours for right now. Let us make you feel good.”

I mewled, wanting more than the teasing touches they offered. “Please.” I didn’t know what I was asking for, but I knew it was more than what they were giving.

“What do you want, sweetness? Tell me, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

I turned and looked at Ibrahim, his midnight hair ruffled, his light eyes promising dark pleasures. “I want to feel you, want to feel both of you fucking me.” Never had I thought I would say those words. He smiled at me wickedly and bent down to gently bite my earlobe. I groaned, wishing they’d let me touch them as they were touching me.

“Come here, Athena.” Aram let go of my wrists and flipped me onto my belly. I turned my head and watched as Ibrahim took my wrists and held them in a loose, yet immobile grip behind my back. I turned and stared at Aram, could see just how hard he was and my mouth watered to taste him. We all must have been thinking the same thing, because Aram moved to the side of the bed just as Ibrahim helped me to my knees and pushed me toward Aram’s waiting cock.

I licked the length of him. His balls were heavy beneath his shaft and I ran my tongue further down to swirl around the soft skin. I sucked one testicle in my mouth, moving it around and then letting it go with a resounding pop.

“Fuck yeah. Suck me, Athena.” I sucked on the other one, then made my way back up his length, my tongue making a wet trail along the way.

Ibrahim was behind me, his teeth nipping down the length of my spine until he gently bit one of my ass cheeks. I lifted my ass, loving how his fangs scraped seductively against me. I sucked Aram into my mouth, lapping at him like I was crazed, starved for his cock. I was so hot, so ready. My pussy cream lubricated my labia and made them move erotically against each other. My nipples rubbed along his legs, the hair teasing my sensitive tissue so that I was pressing closer to him, needing more.

Ibrahim covered my back with his chest, his erection pressed against the crack of my ass. The tip of his cock teased my clitoris and I wiggled against him.

“Hold onto the headboard, Athena. Hold the bars tight and don’t let go while you suck Aram and I fuck you.”

I did as he ordered, shivering at his dark command. Ibrahim didn’t wait, didn’t tease me for agonizing moments. He shoved into me so quick, so hard that I was pushed forward, right onto Aram’s erection. His cockhead nudged against my throat and my eyes watered. The double penetration made me grunt in response.

“Suck me, sweetness. Suck the cum out of me.”

Oh God. Ibrahim started pounding into me, his mouth already at my neck, his teeth in my skin. I cried out around Aram’s cock, feeling him explode inside my mouth immediately. I swallowed his cum greedily and used my pelvic floor muscles to squeeze Ibrahim’s dick tightly. He groaned behind me in response.

“So good, Athena. Your little mouth on my cock feels so fucking good,” Aram murmured, feathering his hands over my hair. He pulled away from me, his flaccid shaft slipping from my mouth. I sucked in air and gripped the bars tighter as Ibrahim fucked me fiercely.

He pushed me onto my stomach and the burn of my hands being wrenched from the wrought iron bars momentarily dimmed the pleasure he caused. That discomfort vanished as soon as he covered me with his body, his cock never slipping free, his mouth still latched onto my neck. He removed his fangs and ran his tongue along the wound. I shivered in response.

“Yeah, baby. Take my cock. Fucking squeeze that pussy around it.”

“Oh. Oh. Yes. I’m going to come!” The feeling of my blood slipping down my neck made me acutely aware of who and what I was actually fucking. I squeezed my eyes shut and wailed out in ecstasy. I lifted my ass, hearing the wicked, wet sounds of his cock gliding in and out of my clenching pussy. The noises he made behind me were animalistic, wild and full of pleasure. He gave one loud groan before he filled me with his seed. I shuddered as some of it slipped down to coat my labia.

I felt like I was floating, like the world had left me and I no longer had a body. Slowly, the high left me and I fell back to reality. The bed dipped and I heard the door open and close, and then I let myself become comatose.

* * * *

The image of sweaty bodies, hard cocks, and blood dripping down pale flesh slammed into my mind and I sat up. Breathing heavily, I ran a hand over my face and blinked in rapid succession. The room was pitch black and I closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart. The dream had been so real, so graphic that I could have sworn I had been there.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and swallowed. “Oh my. What a dream.” I chuckled almost hysterically and reached over, blindly trying to find the bedside lamp. Pulling on the chain, a soft glow filled the room and I waited until my eyes adjusted. I put my head in my hands and exhaled a shaky breath.

“What’s wrong, baby?” A hand ran along my back and I looked over. I smiled and lay back down, moving closer to the warm body beside me. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.

“Nothing. I just had that dream again.”

He chuckled seductively. “Oh. You mean the dream about getting fucked by four vampires?” He chuckled again.

“Yeah. The same one.” I lifted my head and stared into his eyes. His hair was ruffled, his eyes heavy from sleep.

“We’ll have to try that little fantasy out again.” Bodin smiled, his fangs flashed white in the muted glow filling the room. “Who would have thought you were kinky, wanting to get fucked by four vampires as you pretended to be the helpless little human.” He rose up and pressed a kiss to the side of my neck.

“That was so long ago. We should play that little game again.” I looked at him, smiling, feeling my fangs lengthen in response to my arousal. Who knew a vampire as old as me could get off by pretending to be a human while four, potent vampires took advantage of me?

Of course, having the gift of immortality sometimes made us do wild, new and exciting things. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy my life or my four lovers, but every once in a while a little excitement was due. I thought of what I did all those years ago, submitting to my immortal lovers, and my body heated from the recollection, my wet pussy clenched in need.

“I think someone is thinking about it,” Bodin murmured, sidling closer to me so that his masculine scent made my nostrils flare with hunger.

“Where are the others?”

It was rare that we slept in the same bed together, even if it was big enough, but usually they visited for a little daytime fun.

As if my thoughts commanded them to enter, the door swung open and in walked Aram, Ibrahim, and Eeron. They were all nude, their cocks hard, straining forward. My smile was big as I spread my arms above my head and arched my back. Oh yes, this was going to be another experience that would wake me from sleep and have me aching for my four, addicting vampire lovers.

“I’m ready boys. Come ravish your innocent little human.”

The End

www.jenikasnow.com

Other Books by Jenika Snow in her DARK LUST series:

The Taste of Blood

The Craving

Coming Soon:

The Diary of Anna's Submission

SPICE IT UP

Copyright © Alexandra O'Hurley 2011

Chapter One

The hum of voices buzzed around her head, stuck in the depths of Hell. That is, if you considered Hell a cubicle lodged in a sea of other four by five coffins of corporate mediocrity. Luckily for her, Kellee’s cube was on the outer edge, and she had a visual of the bright blue sky that beckoned for her to come out and play. Perhaps that wasn’t lucky as her eyes blurred while she perused the long list of names on the bright white sheet in her hand, and tried to match them with the list she had on her computer screen.

Dropping her head in her hands, she pressed her fingers across her face, rubbing her eyes intently, hoping to wake herself from the late afternoon stupor that had engulfed her. Something had to change soon, she thought to herself. Between her boring job in human resources, and her ho-hum love life at home, she was beginning to feel trapped.

On the brink of frustrated tears, she took a deep breath, and turned back to her screen, but the outdoors beckoned once more and she saw the afternoon sun reaching out like a hand across the drab gray carpet, its fingers almost touching her toes. Pushing off one sensible heel, she stretched her stocking-clad foot out to capture the heat of its rays. Kellee sat mesmerized, thinking that if she sat long enough, the sunlight would bolster her flagging desire for life.

Beeeep.

Whipping her head back to her computer screen, her insides twisted in delight. One bored lunch break at her desk weeks before had become one of the most intense of her life, as she had been playing with instant messaging and struck up a conversation that had nearly left her breathless. An interesting stranger had simple topics quickly turning into much more private subjects, and had made her yearn for more. Each message thereafter had gotten her hotter and hotter.

He was back, to torment her once more, and make her squirm in her ergonomically correct office chair. Not exactly the best place to be tempted, but she so needed the diversion before she went insane. One quick look over her shoulder to ensure no one was close by; she pulled close to her desk, so her private little conversation couldn’t be seen.

Hi, sexy. In the mood to play?

A tingle radiated through her belly, and she sat up a little straighter. Damned right she wanted to play.

You know it, darlin’. More than ready.

A long pause. She felt her nipples grow tighter in anticipation of what he would say next.

I dreamed of you last night. I was touching your gorgeous body, standing behind you in the shower, spreading body wash all over your breasts and then lower to your pussy. Holding you against the shower wall, fucking you hard against the tile as the hot water ran over our joined bodies.

A throb centered in her pussy, envisioning the same thing as she read the words on the screen. She knew that the words should have shocked her and made her break away, but this was exactly what she liked about their conversations. She was tired of her white bread world, and he made her feel alive.

And then later, after I made sure you were good and clean, I carried you to my bed, bound your hands and feet while I did some incredibly delicious things to you. It was so good that I had to jack off in the shower this morning so I could get some relief.

Fingers trembling, she brought them to the keyboard.

So, you enjoy tying your women up? One of her biggest fantasies, visions of being tied and helpless under a big, strong man, surrendering to his whims as he touched and tasted all she had to offer, had graced her mind many a night as she brought her own fingers to her pulsing clit, lying in her steamy bathroom in a tub full of water and bubbles.

I do. And would you be a willing participant? Something tells me from our conversations that you would. Maybe even enjoy me spanking that tight, sexy ass of yours a bit?

Sitting back from the screen, she stared at the blinking cursor for a few moments, anticipation warring with the fear of the unknown. Flirting online was one thing, but his last response appeared to be a bit more like a question. A proposal to meet? And perhaps to allow him to do some of the decadently naughty things they had spent several afternoons discussing in earnest while they both should have been busy working.

Tapping her right index finger on the desk beside her keyboard, she knew she had to be insane to consider saying yes. But everything inside her told her to agree.

Was I wrong? Perhaps I have gone too far. That’s what happens when you assume, I suppose.

No.

No?

No, you were not wrong. I want you to tie me up and spank me.

Another pause. It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like time was standing still as she awaited his response to her admission. Anticipation was building within her, bringing her to a point where she felt her chest constrict and her breathing become difficult. The desire to bring a hand up to cup a breast overwhelmed her, thinking of his hands touching her body.

Still no word. Looking at the blinking insertion point, she saw her last comment and wondered if he was all about the thrill of the chase, and now that she had submitted, he wasn’t sure what to do. Or maybe she had read too much into his comment. A knot formed in her stomach, worried she had scared him off. Moving her mouse to rest over the bright blue X in the top right corner of the message box, she was about to click on it when she saw a new message finally pop onto the screen.

Sorry, my boss walked into my office for a moment to ask a question. Are you still there?

This was her out. She could go ahead and exit the message box and leave her response to another day, giving her time to cool off and rethink the possibility of meeting him. Staring at the words on the screen, she knew it was now or never. Perhaps a good fucking would get her out of this rut and prevent her break with reality.

I’m still here.

Good. I think it’s time for us to meet. Friday night, 7 pm, Club Domino.

She breathed deep, seeing the name of the club she had only heard about in hushed tones by one of her friends at work. Club Domino was a member only club, where just about everything goes. She had listened to her co-worker, Angelica, talk about a woman bound to some kind of sex chair and screwed by at least four different men on a stage as the entire audience had watched, many of them participating in sex acts with each other.

Are you a member of Club Domino? She became a little nervous, afraid he was a little too far ahead of her in experience, and wondered how deep his desires lay.

No, but a friend is. He has given me a password we can both use to get in and give the place a try. You can meet me there. Is it a date?

Trembling all over, she nodded—as if he could see her reaction through his screen.

Yes, it’s a date.

Chapter Two

Standing outside Club Domino, Kellee was not sure she would be able to go through with her plan. Sex with a stranger, hard and fast, with a little taste of pain, had been a fantasy for so long. What if it ruined the fantasy? Had she created this whole illusion of what she wanted in her head, and once she had the reality, would it be too much for her to handle?

She didn’t want too much pain, but just enough to make the pleasure that much sweeter. Her current lover was sweet and gentle, would never consider spanking her, or tying her to a bed, making her beg for what she needed to find completion. She needed more, to taste the darkness that dwelled deep inside her, and she was afraid to ask him for what she needed, afraid he would turn away from her and her needs.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she walked to the door and gave the burly bouncer the password she had repeated over and over again in her head the entire drive over in her car. Anything to settle her jangled nerves. He perused her, eyeing the low cleavage of her dress, down to her high-heeled feet, making her want to squirm. The frown carved around his features was enough to make her turn and run back for her car, but after a few moments of hesitation, he opened the door for her.

She walked into the club, which was far enough away from home to not create gossip, but close enough that her absence would not be missed. The thumping bass of the music was not her style, but in this place, deep in the night, with the adrenaline pumping through her veins, that tune coursed through her body like a drug, readying her for what she told herself she was brave enough to do.

Strobe lights had made it hard to see as she cruised through the long hallway to the inner sanctum of the club. Looking up, she saw the balcony lined, and in her limited vision, saw couples clasped in heated exchanges, and body parts bared for the world to see. At least the world which swirled within the confines of the blue lit walls. The color cast an odd, almost alien look to the interior, which was fine for Kellee, as she felt like she had stepped into a whole new world.

Arriving at the bar, she knew she needed liquid courage. She ordered from a topless female bartender, and she suddenly felt inferior. Gravity had not yet hit the young, pretty blonde who handed her the Cosmo she requested. Kellee was often mistaken for being in her late twenties or early thirties, but at thirty-seven, time was slowly catching up on her. Peeking at the woman’s perky breasts, she arched her back, trying to emulate her perfect curves.

“I think yours are much sexier.”

The whispered words at her left ear sent tingles down her spine, and that current flowed to her core as his lip briefly touched the shell of flesh. She felt his nearness, close enough to heat her back, but not close enough to actually touch; Kellee immediately fought the urge to press back into him. She didn’t need to look to know it was him.

Two hands came to rest on the bar, one on each side of her, capturing her to the spot. He still did not touch her, but his presence was formidable, as if he blocked out the rest of the world. Swirls of pleasure twisted within her tight nipples as she felt his breath whisper along her bare neck, just below her loose chignon.

Kellee attempted to look at his face, but he pressed against her, pushing her closer to the bar. She felt the heavy weight of his cock behind her, branding the curve of buttocks, its heat searing into her. Looking ahead, she caught the image in the mirror behind the bar, but with racks of fine liquors and the darkness of the club, it was impossible to see his face clearly. All she saw was the top of his head peeking behind her own, which said a lot, considering she was six feet tall in the four inch “fuck me” red stilettos. But he couldn’t be much taller, as she could only see him from the bridge of his nose up.

Short, dark strands were perfectly imperfect, tousled, as if he had just rolled out of bed, with eyes that appeared fair from the occasional twinkle that formed as the light swept by from the dance floor. He was broader than her, his shoulders wide as her eyes roamed over what she could see of him. The outline of a well-fitting suit was visible as his big body crowded her, those large shoulders narrowing down until liquor bottles hid the rest of his frame from her view.Catching his stare in the glass surface, she watched him intently as one long fingered hand worked its way up, snaking up her bare arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. An inferno was released within her, his heat stoking it from behind, his fingers dancing across her skin. Crossing over at her rib cage, his hand eventually cupped her breast.

As he weighed the flesh, she rose to her tiptoes, basking in the breathtaking pleasure. Not knowing his name, or his face, didn’t matter; his simple touch had her begging him to go further. The darkness flared within her, demanding more. But fear mixed with the desire, as she did not know what lines he would want her to cross. Would she be willing to cross them?

“Much sexier. I prefer my women real, natural as they were born. Yours are exquisite and she doesn’t compare.”

He whispered the words to the back of her head, refusing to let her see his face. She turned her head; she had to know, to match the words, the caresses, to a look. A hand came to her chin, turning her face. He captured her gaze once more in the mirror.

“I can feel your longing. It’s tangible. I can see it in your eyes, smell it on your skin. Just like I read it in your words. You want me more than any other man you have ever met. Don’t you?”

His words engulfed her, and she could not breathe. Nor could she answer.

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

Kellee looked at her reflection, her eyes wide, her breathing sharp. Swirls of blue colored light reflected off the plains of her face, casting an eerie pallor over her image, as if she were looking at a stranger standing in her spot, which was certainly apropos for the way she felt tonight. His eyes caught hers in the mirror again as he pressed his throbbing cock against her ass.

“I’m still waiting.”

Stifling a moan, she rubbed against him. Caught up in the beat of the music throbbing around them, she placed her drink on the bar and began moving to the sound, holding to the edge of the counter for dear life. Attempting to overcome her fear, she tried to play the seductress and turn the tables a bit on his overachieving domination act.

His hands moved to grasp her wrists tightly as he began to move behind her, and she wondered if he was showing her a taste of what was to come this night. If she agreed of course. Fear washed through her, and she began to pull against the fists holding her arms down. Releasing her, those same hands pressed into each side of her hip, stilling her.

“Is this the game you want to play? The little seductress, waving her rear like a red flag at a raging bull, getting me all wound up before you turn and leave? If it is, you had better be willing to finish what you start, because I already have plans to tie you to my bed and fuck you all night long, until you beg me to stop, exhausted from the pleasure. And even then, I might not stop.” Pressing his lips to her neck, he bit gently, licking the pain away. “But if you are unsure about proceeding, you need to walk away right now before it gets too intense.”

Her nipples and clit ached at the sound of his words, the visions they created within her mind, the tingling from his bite, and she had never wanted a man more than she did right at this very moment. Light sweat formed on her brow, and she grabbed the untouched drink and took a deep swallow to help calm her nerves.

Turning her face once more, she desperately needed to see him, to know what she was getting herself into. He caught her chin again, this time letting her keep it to the side, as he moved his mouth to her ear. She could smell the mint on his breath as he suckled the lower lobe, biting the skin.

“Does it matter that you see my face? The fire I have started inside you tonight, in a mere matter of minutes, is proof enough that I can take you higher than you have ever been before. I saw the need in your eyes the moment you walked in, and I can see the darkness too. I recognize it, as I see it when I look in the mirror myself.”

“And if it does matter?” Kellee wasn’t sure if that was her voice at all, it sounded too deep, too husky, and nowhere near her normal timbre.

“If it’s for the pleasure alone, it shouldn’t. Just say yes, and I will take you on a journey tonight.”

Looking back into the bar back mirror, she saw clarity in his eyes. He had made her feel more in ten minutes then she had felt in the past ten months, and she sensed from the fevered pitch of her body that this was but a taste of what he could deliver. Slowly nodding her head, she gave her acquiescence, and began to press back into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her, his lips once again tasting her neck.

Dancing into the curve of his body, she let the club music seep into her once more, moving to the rhythm, emulating the act she so desired.

“So my little spitfire likes to dance, hmm? So let’s dance.”

Moving away from the bar, he pulled her behind him. His long strides had her nearly running to keep up, which was never easy in four inch heels. As soon as they reached the center of the dance floor, he twisted around, capturing her front to his own. His hands flowed to her rear, squeezing her ass tightly, and pulling her closer to his thick erection, as he began to sway to the music.

Looking up, she got the first look at the man himself, the darkness interrupted by strobe lights did not help much, but what she could now see made her knees weak. A long straight nose above firm lips, the bottom made to lick and bite. Strong cheekbones and an angular jaw gave him a strong masculinity that was overwhelming. A tiny bit of creasing at the corner of his eyes told her he was probably closer to her own age. Her added height made her just inches from one of the most handsome faces she had ever seen.

Settling close to him, she inhaled. A warm, musky smell and the simple scent of clean, strong male was delicious. She was about to reach up and have a taste when he spun her around, molding her back to his front, his hands sliding to the front of her thighs, pressing her hard against him.

Kellee reached up, locking her arms around the back of his neck, arching her breasts high, and she turned her head to complete what she had wanted to do moments before. He leaned closer over her shoulder, and she captured his lips, a soft peck to taste him, feel him against her and test her theory about that gorgeous bottom lip. He returned the act, kissing her until she felt dizzy, while his hands rubbed the tops of her legs, so close to the heated spot of her center.

Pulling away, she swayed in the midst of other bodies, her whole world focused on this one human being and the sensations he brought to her body. He followed behind, and captured her again, imprisoning her in his tight grasp. Sliding his hands slid from her thighs, he moved them to her stomach, making her muscles tighten. She relished in his attention but wanted to direct his touches elsewhere. Where she was on fire.

Ever higher, his palms rested on her ribcage, the edges just barely touching the underside of her breasts. As she moved to the rhythm of the beat, she forced the occasional touch, offering herself to him and his caresses. A fine sheen of sweat spread across her body as she stirred, electricity connected them together in an endless circuit as their bodies swayed to the sounds echoing through the club. Nerve endings across her body screamed in delight with every touch, every nuzzle of his mouth along her neck, the underside of her raised arm, the side of her face.

Undulating together in their passionate embrace, they moved within the sea of bodies. After several mind-numbing songs, he pulled Kellee off the floor to an empty rounded booth at the side of the dance floor.

“You need a new drink, what shall it be?”

“Cosmo.”

“One Cosmo coming right up.”

Discarding his suit jacket on the seat beside her, he moved to the bar. Watching him walk away from her, she stared at the flexing muscles under the perfectly tailored pants. Physical perfection and he seemed to know a thing or two about pushing all her right buttons. She could not have asked for more. After their numerous conversations online, she knew so much, yet so little, about him. Tonight would prove if she wanted more.

As he ordered their drinks from the same topless bartender, she watched as a perky brunette approached him. Even from where Kellee was sitting, she could see the predatory glaze affixed to the woman’s features. The silky smile, the wide eyed, “fuck me” look, of course added to the barely there dress she wore, was enough to make the little green monster rear its head.

How in the hell could she feel jealous of some slut at the bar?

Yet she did.

Eyeing the two of them closely, she felt relief flood through her as he paid for their drinks and walked away from the bar…and the woman. A sense of jubilation flowed within her veins, as if there had been some unseen battle that took place between her and the other woman and Kellee had won.

And her prize was stalking toward the table, his eyes only on her. Her insides began melting all over again as she saw the lust in his eyes, his gaze intent. Various emotions flowed within her: desire, craving, and need, all still touched by fear. Enough fear to make her still a bit leery, but not so much that she felt the need to abandon her plans.

Grasping the stem of the offered glass, she smiled shyly at him. “Thank you.”

“After we heated up on the dance floor, I thought we needed something to calm our nerves a little.”

“You nervous?”

“Nope. Not in the slightest, but I can see everything warring inside you when I look into your eyes. You fear what I may ask you tonight, yet your need is overriding it. But not completely.”

“So, you plan on liquoring me up enough that you can have your wicked way with me?”

“Hardly. I plan on relaxing you so we can enjoy the night properly. I think once we have finished our drinks, we can go to my place. It isn’t too far.”

“Y-your place?”

“Unless you would like me to put you on display like the various couples across the dance floor, or on the balcony seats. Are you a voyeur? I would be glad to make any desire you have come true tonight, as tonight is your first here.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to be put on display.”

“So, does that mean you’re ready to leave?”

A nervous flutter moved through her, and her innate reaction was to stall. “What, I just got here. Can’t we get to know one another a little before we go? Heck, I don’t even know your name.”

The rich laughter that flowed from him warmed her, and she felt her nipples grow tighter.

“Too funny, all those conversations and we haven’t shared names, have we? I’m Jed. And yours?”

“Nice to meet you, Jed. My name is…um…Dee.”

“Nice to meet you…um…Dee. I think I will drop the um and just call you Dee, if that’s okay with you?”

A blush stung her cheeks, but in the blue light of the club, she doubted he saw it, for which she was thankful, although she knew his joking was intended to make her feel more relaxed. Looking down into the drink in her hand, she took a gulp to avoid commenting back.

“So you don’t want to be put on display. But how about watching one who does?”

“What?” Kellee felt her hand trembling as she lowered the glass back to the table.

A smile was his response. Moving closer to her within the circle of the booth, he pulled her close to him. Resting one arm around her neck and shoulders, he pointed a finger to the balcony and a show already in progress. Kellee had never considered herself a voyeur, but it was as if she were watching a train wreck. She didn’t think she should look, but felt compelled to anyway.

Watching the redhead being fondled by two large, sexy men, she felt heat pool in her pussy yet again. A rollercoaster of sexual desire all night, this was a new high, as she had never witnessed anyone being pleasured in public before.

“Watch her. Imagine that is you up there, each of your legs splayed across one of the men’s laps. Your pussy open and flowering for all to see. Thick fingers spreading you wide, pumping inside your lovely channel as another man presses his hand to your clit, circling the engorged flesh until you’re screaming in orgasm.”

The beautiful redhead had her head thrown back, completely lost in her passion, and the scene was just as Jed had described, the woman open to these men, to everyone. Her dress bundled around her waist, panties gone. Her bra was intact, but both breasts were pushed up and out of the lace, one engorged nipple being suckled by one of the men as he pressed several of his fingers inside her pussy.

Jed placed a warm hand to her stomach, rubbing in a small circle, as her eyes stayed transfixed on the woman, and the men loving her for all to see. Unable to hear the sounds coming from across the club, she imagined them, the deep moans of desire, as one of the men pulled her to his lap and began pressing his engorged cock into her. Sitting on the table, the second man lead the woman’s mouth to wrap around his thickened shaft, and the trio began working in tandem to pleasure each other.

The warm hand on her stomach moved slowly to a breast as she watched the encounter, making her short of breath as she found pleasure, something she never knew would be so incredibly stimulating. She wondered how the redhead felt; never having experienced two men before, she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle the overwhelming passion. Pressure built within her clit and she couldn’t remain still, moving within her seat as she felt the tide swelling inside her.

Lowering the hand from her breast, Jed raised her skirt a few inches, using his palm to gently open her legs before pressing his fingers to her clit.

“No panties?” He whispered into her ear, and she enjoyed the satisfied sound to his voice, glad she had pleased him in her choice. One finger pressed against the band of nerves, moving in slow circles as her eyes never left the three performing for all to see. Once Jed’s lips grazed her neck, she felt her orgasm but seconds away.

Jed quickly pinched her clit. Hard. She jerked, turning to look at him.

“You will come when I say you can come.”

Anger roiled through her at his high-handed action. Pulling away from him, he caught her before she could go far, pulling her back into his embrace.

“You will submit to me tonight. I am the master of your body and I will tell you when you can come. It will not be watching some slut getting fucked in the middle of the club, but when my cock is deeply embedded in your pussy, after I have ensured you are ready for me.”

Desire flamed within her, mixing with the anger over his actions. Part of her wanted to walk away, but another part, a darker part of herself she had never allowed out, wanted him to force her to submit to him. Pulling her arm from his grasp, she glared at him, but did not move from the spot.

“Just because you have not moved does not negate the look you are giving me now. I demand total submission, from your actions to your demeanor. Continue to glare and I will have to spank the look from your face.”

Kellee felt the first drops of wetness hit her inner thigh, as her pussy constricted in desire from his claim. Envisioning his hand on her bare ass, something inside her compelled her further. Lifting from the seat, she moved faster than he could, just missing his hand grasping her wrist. Planting her hands on her hips, she continued to glare at him.

“I believe we need to take this to my place, so I can teach you a lesson in respect.”

Chapter Three

Following his car, Kellee pulled hers into the driveway of the large two story brick home. The cultivated lawn and landscaping were immaculate, similar to the man himself. The tailored suit, the large, powerful SUV, and the clean, crisp lines of the house fit him, and showed a man in control of his environment. She felt the need to break his control a little, by pushing her own boundaries, and hopefully his as well.

The evening chill settled into her, and in her barely there dress, she shivered, wondering if it was all from the night air. As she moved to the front of his car where he stood, he rubbed huge hands along her arms, warming her.

Grasping one of her hands in his, he led her to the door, pressing the key into the lock as he caught her eyes in the light of the full moon. She saw a question, as if he were giving her a final out. The soft questioning look, allowing her this final chance to walk away, struck her suddenly, making her heart ache just a little. She felt safe, and knew he would take care of her.

Nodding her ascent, he turned the key, pushing the heavy wooden door open. Pulling her in behind him as he turned off the security system, once the final number was entered, he pressed her against the closed door and pushed his hard body against her, capturing her against the solid oak. Moonlight streamed through the glass windows that fanned along the top of the door, letting her see the bright green of his eyes, the open clarity of his stare.

As he bent his head to kiss her, she melted into his embrace, closing her eyes to the pleasure. He lifted one leg between hers, and she rocked against the thick thigh, feeling the pressure against her clit as he slipped his tongue between her lips. Riding his leg, she felt the tips of her toes lift off the floor as he supported her body completely, holding her tightly to the door as he devoured her mouth.

Jed pulled away, and lowered her back to the floor. She stood there trembling as he watched her closely; no words shared as she felt the weight of his stare flaming across her body. Kellee had never felt this incredibly sexy, wanted, or felt the fear of the unknown mixing with her need to be consumed by him.

“Take off your dress.”

The deep baritone command hit her like a wave. For a moment, she considered rebelling and telling him no, but after a long pause, she reached up behind her neck to untie the top of the red halter. Dropping it from her fingers once unbound, she let gravity take it down to her waist, revealing her breasts to him. Kellee enjoyed his quiet gasp, one he undoubtedly had not wanted to make, but it pleased her to hear her affect on him.

Running her hands down her body, rubbing her aching nipples as he watched, she slowly drifted down her ribs until she reached the gathered fabric at her waist. Grasping the silk in her hands, she pushed down as she shimmied her hips, slowly revealing the black lace garter belt she wore to hold up the black silk stocking encasing her thighs.

She couldn’t recall the last time she had undressed in this manner before a man—a man who wanted to watch her wanton act—and it empowered her. Stepping out of the pooled cloth, she stood straight and allowed him to peruse her body, leaving the undergarments in place, along with those red stilettos. She felt sexier than she had in years.

“Come here.” His soft command drew her to him, and he grasped one hand in his, drawing her into his living room as he undid his tie.

Seating her in a Queen Anne chair, he took off his jacket and laid it on the sofa before picking up a remote of some sort and clicking a button. A soft fire roared in the fireplace, casting a sensual light around the room. Grasping his tie in one hand he slid it off, moving closer to her as he did.

Jed stood ahead of her, nudging her thighs open with his legs then settled down to his knees before her. He grasped one wrist, then wrapped the tie around it, and gathered the other wrist to do the same. Once bound, he lifted her arms, and tied the opposite end of the tie to the curling woodwork at the head of the chair.

Her breathing increased as she pulled against the restraints. She looked at the soft knots, knowing she would easily be able to escape them if she truly wanted to, knowing he was pulling her into his world in steps, testing her readiness. Jed lifted one leg and hooked the knee over the delicate arm of the chair, following it with the other, opening her to his perusal.

She arched her back, spreading her slick, pussy lips, wanting to show him all of her.

“Beautiful,” he added, the sound low and husky, just before he swiped his tongue from the bottom of her pussy right up to the swollen clit. “We need to discuss a few house rules.”

“Rules?”

“Yes. Rule number one, I am the master here and you will do as I say.”

A tremor spiked through her, along with a little rebelliousness at the comment.

“Rule number two, I do not hear the word ‘no’.”

Fear struck her.

“Rule number three, I do hear your safe word. You choose what that word will be, and if it gets to a point where you feel you cannot take anymore, you say the safe word and I will stop.”

She smiled shyly, and considered his words.

“So, Dee, what will your safe word be?”

“Purple.”

“Purple it is.” He smiled at her and took another swipe at her moist sex with his tongue. “So sweet.” Rising from his knees, he looked down at her. “I need to go make some preparations, so I need you to wait here a moment. Don’t move.”

Looking over her shoulder, as the back of the chair was to the foyer, she watched him go upstairs. “Don’t move?” Funny guy. As if she could do that easily being tied to the chair. But after a few minutes of waiting, she became restless, wondering what preparations he could be making and why it was taking so long. She was impatient, and ready for his attentions, which she was not getting in the darkened living room alone.

Twisting her fingers, she was able to get a hold of the end of the knot, and after several minutes, she was able to release one of her hands. The other wrist was easy work after that, and she scooted off the chair, tiptoeing into the foyer to the bottom of the stairs. Just as she had gained three of the treads, he coasted into the hallway open to the downstairs, catching her where she stood.

“I told you to stay where you were. Apparently you don’t listen well. I will have to do something about that.”

Rushing down the stairs toward her, Kellee turned to run from him. Before she could get further than the living room, he captured her in his arms and threw her over his shoulder. Moving to the stairs, he reached up and swatted her ass with his large palm before taking the first step.

“I will teach you to listen, and to have patience. This is not a race to the finish line, but a stroll.” Slowly walking up the stairs, he then padded down the hallway, depositing her in the middle of a large bed on her hands and knees.

Candles flamed around the room, and her eyes went immediately to a chair hanging in one corner. Its metal chains hung from the ceiling, and she saw the leather straps that hung from it, ready to secure her. Beside the chair was a small table filled with oils and other small items, but her eyes narrowed on the small flogger. Intense yearning filled her, and she knew she would have to ensure he used it on her flesh.

Turning to look at him, she watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from his body, revealing the tight abdomen and chest she instinctively knew would be there. The soft swirl of hair between his pecs led down his stomach, ending in a vee that was hidden below his dress slacks. One broad hand grasped the dark belt he wore, as the other slid the leather from its home. He slowly pulled it from his waist, gathering and doubling it in his hands.

As he playfully swatted the belt from one hand to the other, Kellee felt electricity zip through her, centering in her pussy.

“I should spank you for being a bad girl. When I tell you not to move, I expect obedience.”

Closing her eyes to the intense energy swirling through her, she froze, knowing she wanted to feel the leather strike her skin.

He stepped closer to the edge, grasping her waist and sliding her close to him. She felt his heavy erection nudging her stomach as he raised the hand holding the belt, lowering it with a soft slap to her ass. It wasn’t enough, he was too tender, and she pushed against him, wanting more.

Raising his arm again, he lowered it more quickly, letting the belt cause a bit more of a sting, but it still was not enough and she struggled against him, hoping to push at his limits. Another swat, this one biting her skin, making her moan out loud as the hint of pain kissed her flesh. Raising her eyes to him, she tried to convey the emotion she knew her lips could not share, begging him silently for more.

Another swat and she moaned louder, feeling her own arousal sliding warmly down the insides of her thighs from the pure excitement of the pleasure-pain. Two more swats, stinging into her ass, and she felt the radiating heat, the flesh undoubtedly pink and shining. Bringing her mouth to his, Jed kissed her heatedly, his tongue invading her mouth as he continued to rain the swats on her, swallowing her moans of satisfaction.

Just as she was on the brink of orgasm, he stopped, pulling his mouth from her and looking into her face.

“You have twice robbed me of my climax. How is this about pleasure when you won’t let me have any?”

He laughed. “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever met. Your eyes shining in lust, your need etched in every line of your face. Don’t worry; I will bring you to completion. You just aren’t ready yet.”

Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the corner chair, seating her in the leather of the swing. Grasping one wrist, he attached the closure, following with the other. Standing back, he lifted one leg, securing both her knee and her ankle, before repeating his actions with the last leg.

Jed took two steps back and looked her over, from her face, sweeping down to her pointed nipples, to her open pussy, smiling the entire time. His eyes shone wildly which was at odds with the control he had tried to hold on to the entire night. Opening the button to his slacks, he slowly pushed the zipper down, all while gazing at her with that feral glare to his eyes.

Pushing the fabric down, she watched as his black boxer briefs came into view, and she shivered as she saw the outline of his hardened cock. She did not have to wait long; as soon as his pants were gone, he pushed his boxer briefs down, and his cock popped out from the cotton, making her salivate.

Long and thick, his erection was perfect, the dusky red hues with the vibrant purple veins snaking around the length. She wished her hands were unbound; she so wanted to touch him. Pulling her wrists against the leather restraints, Kellee wondered how she had gotten to this point. What darkness was inside her to demand she take her lovemaking to such a level, but instead of dwelling on it further, so relinquished herself to the pleasure he was creating within her. Tomorrow could be retrospect, tonight it was all about what he could do to her body.

Lounging in the swing, erotically sensual, her stranger caressed his nude body as she watched, his eyes never leaving the flowering lips of her pussy as he grasped his erect cock in his hand, pumping along the shaft. A glistening bead of cum rose to the tip, his fingers collecting it and swirling it along the thick staff, making her fingers itch to touch him. To taste him. She silently watched him as he grasped a tall thin bottle of what appeared to be oil. Popping the top, he tilted the bottle toward her, pouring a small amount just above her clit. A sweet scent wafted up as she followed his hands with her eyes. He set the bottle down and began to massage the oil into her flesh, ignoring the spots that needed the most attention.

After oiling her inner thighs, her reddened ass, and her lower abdomen, she was about to go completely nuts moments before Jed finally pressed his lower palm to her clit. After being denied two orgasms already, her heightened need had her on the edge of orgasm from the light pressure alone.

Kellee tilted her head back, enjoying the weightless feel of her body, along with the constant tingling of her rear, as he continued to manipulate her clit. Closing her eyes, she sighed, unable to manage the strength to attempt to move her limbs, she succumbed to the pleasure. As she let the sensation wash over her, she felt pressure at the puckered flesh of her ass.

Opening her eyes, she watched as Jed pulled the item away, and covered it with the same oil coating her pussy, showing her what he was intending to penetrate her with. Her eyes widened as she stared at the long anal plug, but need grew within her as well. He smiled as he looked at her, and moved to return to her ass, pressing the lubricated tool inside her.

Delighting in the pressure against her, she breathed deep, trying to relax herself as the rounded head slowly pushed past the thick band of nerves. Once it fit within her, she moaned aloud, loving the tight pressure it added to the fire already burning deep within her core. Jed pumped the thin shaft within her a time or two, before pushing it in fully, the flared base locking inside its tight confines. A small button was pressed and she felt the light vibration of the plug pulsing through her entire body.

Closing her eyes tightly, Kellee felt Jed’s cock slowly press into her pussy, and she pulled against the leather straps, the pleasure-pain of the dual entry too much for her to handle. Tears formed behind her eyes at the intensity of her sensation, and her back arched as she felt the deep penetration of his thick shaft.

Once he was fully seated inside her, he paused.

“We aren’t feeling purple are we?”

Holding on for dear life, she shook her head, even though she knew she stood on the precipice and was afraid to fall, crashing and burning when she finally hit bottom. Jed grasped the chains that held her aloft and began a back and forth rocking motion, pumping his cock into her as he utilized the swing’s motion to rock her back and forth.

Feeling the pressure of both shafts within her, along with the rhythm he built, and then the addition of a thumb circling her clit, she flew off that edge within moments. Loudly moaning her release, she trembled as he continued to press inside her, pumping a few more times before bellowing himself and jetting his hot cum inside her.

Jed pulled out, leaving her to hang weightless from the chains, returning to her with a warm damp cloth. He lovingly wiped her clean before removing the restraints and carrying her limp and lifeless body to the large bed, slipping her under the covers and wrapping her tightly in their cocoon.

She slipped into darkness quickly, feeling him slide between the sheets and pull her close to his body sometime later in the night, feeling him press his cock into her yet again, their first coupling apparently not enough to appease his need. He quickly built a fire within her, but it was far overshadowed by the overwhelming encounter they had had earlier in the evening.

As her eyes fluttered open the following morning, bright sunlight flooded the room, and she felt the warm enticing feel of him wrapped around her in the white bedding. Once the morning blurriness subsided, she noted that all the sexual implements from the night before were gone. The chair, the table of sexual toys and oils, as well as the candles, were nowhere in sight.

Had it not been for the warm, hard flesh pressed to her very sore rear, she would’ve thought last night was a dream. Turning in his arms, she saw he was awake, watching her intently. Heat flooded her face as she looked at him, and she cast her eyes down, looking at the soft thin patch of hair that curled down his chest. She ran her fingertip through those curls, not sure what to say to him.

“Good morning, um…Dee.”

She laughed. “I thought you were going to drop the um…?”

Finally able to look into his eyes, she could get lost in the glittering emotion she saw there. Before she had the opportunity to return his morning greeting, or thank him for the night before, she heard the front door pop open and a set of feet running quickly up the stairs. Pulling the sheets up to cover themselves as quickly as possible, the pair froze as the bedroom door opened, and a wave of air hit Kellee’s face.

“Mom? Dad? You bums! What are you still doing in bed? It’s nearly nine o’clock.” The eight year old mass of snips and snails and puppy dog tails jumped onto the middle of the bed. “You are such slackers!”

Kellee laughed to herself. “Have a good time at Grandma’s last night?”

“Sure did, we went to the game, and I had a hotdog, and the t-shirt shooter guy got into a fight with the mascot which was awesome, and we had pizza afterwards, and then nearly got stuck trying to get out of the parking garage because at least a million zillion people went to the game. Then Gram even let me stay up until ten o’clock playing video games.”

“Oh really now, I might have to talk about your bedtime with her,” Jed said as he grabbed his son, tickling him under his arms.

“No way, Grandma rules when I stay with her, she even said so.”  Pulling away, he reached over and kissed his mother on the cheek, before bouncing off the bed. “Well, I am going to go play my Xbox while you guys get dressed. I’m hungry! What are we having for breakfast?”

“Maybe we will just go out for breakfast.”

“Woo-hoo, score! See you downstairs,” Miles shouted from the hallway.

Jed, aka Paul, turned to her and smiled, grasping both sides of her face and planting a deep kiss on her lips.

“You are an amazing woman, and I am the luckiest man in the world to have married you.”

“Yes, you are lucky.” She smiled at his glare and kissed his nose. “I love you, Paul.”

“And I love you, Kellee.” Pressing a heated kiss to her lips, she felt his cock lengthen against her leg. Hearing his strangled sigh, she giggled to herself. “I suppose we had better get dressed and feed the kiddo.” Pulling himself out of bed, he stretched. “So, should I look into a membership to the club?”

“If you don’t, I will!”

The End

www.alexandraohurley.com

Other Books by Alexandra O'Hurley:

The Lottery

Lady Blake's Tales for the Queen

Copyright © Pepper Anthony 2011

Chapter One

In the Queen’s Chamber…

It was late, as always, when Lady Ferran Blake entered the Queen’s bedchamber, her slipper-clad feet silent on the thick carpet. She moved to the foot of the ornately carved bedstead and waited, head bowed, for her monarch to speak. Ferran knew there were at least two other people in the room, a pair of maidservants, who stood in the dark corners waiting to be summoned forward. She sometimes wondered what those silent girls thought of the stories she told the Queen. Did they know that once upon a time she, Lady Ferran Blake, had held the powerful office of Matcher? Had they heard of the crime she was accused of, the scandal that had cost her her true love and her position?

Was there anyone in all of Perrentine who had not heard?

Two years before, as part of her punishment, she had been demoted to the office of Taleteller. Every night the Queen would summon her here to her private quarters, and expect to be entertained by certain tales from Lady Blake’s past.

Certain...titillating tales.

At last the old woman in the bed cleared her throat and acknowledged her, black eyes winking like polished coal in her wizened face.

“Good evening, Lady Blake. How do they treat you in the tower?”

“Well, Your Grace,” Ferran murmured, not raising her eyes. She bent slightly at the knee in a quick curtsey. The Queen asked her this question every night, and every night Ferran lied. She was not about to complain of the moldy food and hard mattress. Her intent was to eventually win her freedom with her clever stories.

“And are there further accounts you have not related to me?” The Queen seemed to stifle a yawn. It pleased Her Majesty to pretend to be bored with their nightly ritual.

“I have a dark tale for you this evening, Your Grace, a tale of aberrance and lust. You will find it most unsavory, I am certain.” It had not taken her long to discover the type of stories the Queen enjoyed. And in fact, Ferran had many such tales to recount from her long history as Matcher. The Queen’s tastes were not so different, after all, from the tastes of more common women.

Her Majesty crooked her finger.

“Come forward then, Teller, and fill my ears with your words.”

Ferran advanced to the side of the bed and lowered herself to the small padded stool that was always positioned there. From this close spot, she could spin her fables in a hushed voice that made the Queen feel as if no one else was privy to her personal peculiarities.

“This is the story of Sir Devon McClare and Arrabelle, a couple I introduced in my seventh year as Matcher.”

The Queen nodded and settled herself more comfortably against her many cushions. “Tell me everything,” she whispered. “Spare me nothing.”

“Nothing, Your Grace? There are details that may offend your sensibilities.” It was more of the game they played, this pretense that the Queen might want to be protected from what she wanted so desperately to hear.

“Say all of it,” the old woman insisted.

“Very well.” Lady Blake nodded, and then she began her tale.

It was in the autumn, when the parents of the girl Arrabelle contracted with me to find a suitable First Compeer for their daughter. Arrabelle was eighteen, well past the accepted age for first matching. She was particularly comely, with long yellow hair and pert breasts and lush red lips that all the men noticed and longed to kiss. By her eighteenth birthday there had already been five petitions for a match from neighboring households, but her parents barred the petitions, pending her coming of full age. They hoped to contract a better match for her than what was available from local estates. A wise move, in my estimation. The girl was inordinately shy and needed firm – dare I say masterful - handling. I was fairly certain I already knew the perfect match for her.

On the day she turned eighteen her mother brought her to me, as was the custom, and left her in my care at Redhaven, where I lived at the time. That very evening, after sharing a fine meal of partridge and yams and sweet pudding, I began Arrabelle’s Instruction.

We stood near the massive hearth in the great room, with a strong fire alight, and I directed her to remove her clothing down to the last stitch. I had her sit in a heavy wooden chair across from mine, where her pretty body was quite nicely displayed in the flickering firelight.

The Queen’s black eyes glinted with interest and she leaned forward.

My first question to the girl – the first question I ask all the maidens – was, “Do you know your sexual nature?”

Arrabelle answered me in a small voice that she did not. She sat shivering on the hard chair, despite the fact that the fire crackled not ten feet away.

“How will you know what you desire in a compeer, if you do not know your own self?” I asked.

She dropped her gaze and looked as if she wished to disappear. She kept her arms folded over her naked breasts, her legs squeezed tightly together. I could see that the girl was entirely innocent. I don’t know why parents don’t begin their daughters’ instruction before they come of age. But then, the very heart of being Matcher is to help young ones learn about their true selves, their hidden passions, is it not? To draw out of each partner his or her natural propensities, and then bring together those whose passions compliment one another. That is the highest calling of any Matcher.

Already I had divined signs of Arrabelle’s submissive character.

So I told her, as I tell all my young ones, “Each of us comes to this plane with a unique set of innate wants and desires, which are further enhanced by the experiences of our childhood, the influence of our homes, families and social stations. Over time, our secret desires form a core of yearning within us that is just as vital to take into account as the size of a dowry, or the grandness of house and acreage a husband-to-be might possess.

“What we have learned over the centuries is that mismatches in material areas of compatibility can more easily be addressed and rectified than mismatches in the marital bed.”

The girl actually blushed!

Confident I was reading the signs correctly, I skipped straight away to the first of the Father Questions.

“On those occasions when discipline is meted out in your parents’ home, does your father take hand to you?”

“No. Never.” At first her expression was forthright and earnest, but after a moment her gaze slid away. I saw the pupils of her eyes expand as she further considered the question. A stain of excitement spread over her chest.

“Do you ever wish that he did, Arrabelle? Do you imagine it?”

“Oh, no!” Now her eyes darted back to her lap, refusing to meet mine. Her breathing became more rapid. I worded my next question carefully.

“If a father was to take hand to an errant daughter – some other father to be sure - should it be done through the layers of her clothing? Or should he first lift her dress and then lay his bare hand against her bare skin?”

By now her pretty face was quite flushed and she moved restlessly in her chair. I’m sure if I could have observed her breasts, the tips would be swollen into firm pink nubbins.

I waited for her response.

“I do suppose so,” she finally murmured. “I suppose his hand on her b – bare bottom would be the best way of – of teaching her.” When she looked up at me from under her golden lashes, her green eyes were huge and luminous, and her lips were parted as if she might just be catching her breath.

“And what if the daughter objected to being held in place for this discipline?”

Arrabelle mumbled something I couldn’t hear.

“Speak louder,” I commanded.

“Then the girl might need to be firmly bound,” she said, her expression avid, her little tongue flicking out over her lips.

I smiled at her. Already her words and her body language had revealed volumes to me. I was convinced that Sir Devon McClare would be the perfect First Compeer for Arrabelle. Which meant that Thurman would be the perfect instructor.

The Queen squinted. “Thurman? We haven’t heard of him before.”

“You will enjoy him,” Ferran assured her.

While Arrabelle waited, naked in the chair, I rang the bell cord four times. In a moment the chamber door opened and Thurman entered.

“Tell me what he looks like,” the Queen said.

Thurman was a huge man, as broad as an elm across the chest and shoulders, with long black braids and a handsome face. His lean good looks had always reminded me of a wolf. His face and arms bore the old scars of battle, but the flare of his nostrils and the flash of his gold eyes could make any woman’s pulse race. He crossed the room and stood next to Arrabelle’s chair. The contrast between her lovely white skin and his bronzed muscles was quite picturesque.

He bowed low to me and waited. Arrabelle looked as if she might faint away at any moment. His tight leather chaps and open vest, his musky male scent, were wonderfully intimidating.

“Thurman, this is Arrabelle. She has just turned eighteen. She tells me she believes that the sting of a man’s hand on her naked bottom might be pleasant.”

“Oh no!” the girl cried, her face aflame. “Not pleasant. I never said that.”

“Didn’t you? We shall see,” I told her. “Thurman, dress her in the satin robe. The blue one.” I knew the ethereal color would compliment her white skin, and the silky fabric would slide seductively up her long legs.

Thurman retrieved the blue robe from a cupboard on the far wall and brought it to her. She stood and faced away, and allowed him to place the robe around her shoulders. Then, her small hands shaking, she tied the sash at her waist. But the robe was cunningly designed for the top to remain open. Her naked breasts thrust forward most wantonly, no matter how much she tugged on the fabric to try to cover them. An expression of abject distress marred her perfect features as she realized the futility of attempting to hide her charms.

“Thurman, please proceed with the instruction.”

He gave me a second bow and then turned to Arrabelle.

“Lean forward, Miss, and place your hands palms-down on the arms of the chair.”

She hesitated, indecision stamped on her face. Her frightened gaze flew from his grim visage to the bolted door and back again. There was clearly no escape, so after a moment she did as he told her, her breath coming in ragged little snatches. He took a pair of soft leather cuffs from his belt and affixed one to each wrist. Then he flipped up the metal loops that were built into the arms of the chair, and attached the cuffs.

Now Arrabelle was firmly secured to the heavy chair in a standing position, bent forward at the waist with her backside to me, her body draped in blue silk. Thurman knew the routine as well as I did, so I decided to simply observe as he took over. As she waited, trembling, a single whimper escaped those ripe lips.

“Proceed,” I told him.

His huge, scarred hand touched the back of her leg, near the knee, ever-so-slowly lifting the hem of the robe. Inch by inch her shapely calves and thighs were once more revealed. Although she had been completely naked in our presence just minutes before, the psychological affect of being stripped again, while bound helplessly to the chair, was clearly stirring her submissive tendencies, as I was confident it would. As the hem of the robe brushed nearer to her buttocks, we could hear Arrabelle breathing erratically.

Gradually her sweet, rounded backside was completely exposed. Thurman laid the folds of fabric up across the small of her back and stepped away. Arrabelle kept her thighs pressed together as if her very life depended upon it, which was to be expected. I knew from experience that this pitiful effort at maintaining the last shreds of her modesty would most likely fall by the way in short order under Thurman’s expert tutelage.

“She has a most comely ass, don’t you think, Thurman?”

“Quite so, Lady Blake,” he said, his deep voice rumbling with masculine approval. As he spoke, he began to caress her bare buttocks, teasing the pale contours with his rough palm. At the same time, since her naked breasts hung like globes of ripe fruit from the front of her robe, he reached under and began to work them with a practiced touch, pinching and rolling her tender little nipples until she cried out.

As was customary at this point in the instruction, I got up and came beside her to make sure the girl’s cries were less from pain than from the beginnings of arousal. I placed my hand on her shoulder.

“Arrabelle, do you wish Thurman to cease his instruction?”

She seemed unwilling to meet my eyes. She gave no response save her labored, impassioned breathing. There was no denial, no begging to be freed. It seemed that Arrabelle was already coming to terms with the truth of her own nature.

I smiled at Thurman. A grin broke across his handsome face.

“Continue,” I told him, and resumed my place near the fire where the view was quite sublime.

Once again Thurman’s meaty hand caressed the shapely rounds of her bare bottom, and then, without warning, smacked her there with stinging force. Arrabelle shrieked, and then began to weep in earnest as Thurman treated her other cheek to similar disciplinary attention.

Heretofore, the girl had managed to hold her legs tightly together. But as Thurman caressed and then spanked, caressed and spanked again, Arrabelle’s hips began to move in a most restive manner. Just as I had predicted, she soon stopped crying and we heard the first unmistakable moan of pleasure escape her lips. And then, almost without volition, she began to push her buttocks up and back against his hand, meeting his slaps in a most eager and wanton manner. Her ass shone now with a rosy hue, and as we watched, her feet shifted and she widened her stance. She let her legs part ever so slightly, giving us a first glimpse of her pretty pussy.

It was the signal that Thurman recognized immediately. He stepped away from her, turned to me, bowed deeply a third time, and left us. The oak door swung closed with a thunderous crack. I let the room fill with silence as the girl waited, naked, her limbs still spread apart.

“You may close your legs now, my dear.” I said. “The display is quite lovely, but rather lost on me. Best to save it for Sir Devon.”

“Wh – who?” she finally asked, her voice quivering. She bit her lip as she looked back over her shoulder at me through the golden fall of her tousled hair.

“You have been matched with Sir Devon McClare,” I told her. I got up and went around front of her once more. I put my hand beneath her chin and lifted it so that I could see her eyes. There was a tear or two drying on her flushed cheeks, but also signs of raw exhilaration in her dilated pupils, and the still-unsteady cadence of her breathing. Her nipples remained quite engorged.

“Sir Devon?” she echoed. “When – how soon might I meet him?”

“In a few moments. I am about to summon him.” I turned toward the bell cord.

“No! Please! I beg you,” she implored. “Not like this.” She struggled against the bonds that held her fast, and clamped her legs tightly together once again.

Chapter Two

I pulled the bell cord three times, the signal for Sir Devon to join us. Then I returned to Arrabelle’s side. I combed my fingers through her tangled hair, gathering it back into a loose knot at her nape, the better to expose her dangling breasts and pretty profile to Sir Devon’s view.

“I believe you will be well suited to Sir Devon as your First Compeer,” I told her. “He is quite handsome and very wealthy. Most importantly, he will happily exert the sexual dominance you have secretly desired.”

“Please untie me before he arrives. Please, Lady Blake.” True distress rang in her voice. “I don’t wish for him to see me like this at our first meeting.”

“But this is who you are, little Arrabelle,” I crooned, stroking her arm. “Why would you want to hide your true self from your First Compeer? You must trust me, my dear. I’ve been Matcher for many years, and your compatibility with Sir Devon is obvious. He has been waiting a long while for one such as you, so lovely, so unspoiled and so sweetly compliant.”

Her eyes closed and she hung her head, falling silent as I returned to my seat and we awaited the man’s arrival. We stayed that way for perhaps ten minutes. From time to time I heard her sniffle as she shifted from one foot to the other.

Then the door banged open and he strode into the room, cape flying, and boots agleam. His dark eyes went immediately to the bound girl, raking over her with feral interest. Her head jerked up and she craned around, but he had made sure to stand well out of her view.

“What has the girl done?” he asked me, his eyes never leaving her pale charms.

“She has confessed to her true nature.”

“Ah. Then we are compatible?” His nostrils dilated as his tongue ran over his lips.

“Yes. Thurman has prepared her for you, and she has passed each test,” I answered. “You are of course welcome to ascertain the results for yourself.”

He advanced on her, his fingers flexing at the sight of her reddened bottom.  Thurman’s handprints were still visible on the tender white skin, and Sir Devon reached out to trace the outlines of the older man’s mark. Arrabelle shuddered at his gentle touch.

“Did he injure you?” he asked her softly.

“No. Not really,” Arrabelle murmured. She lifted her head and stared back at him. I could see their eyes meeting for the first time, her green ones wide and afraid, his full of animal hunger. It was vital that they meet that way – with Arrabelle bound to the chair, helpless and naked, with Sir Devon in complete command. There would be no pretense, no silly social posturing to obscure the glittering core of who they each were.

“Such a pretty girl you are.” His hand swept more boldly over her buttocks. She squirmed and let out a little moan. His caress slowed and moved closer to the apex of her thighs, which she still held firmly guarded.

“Open for me,” he said in a voice that was not to be ignored.

I heard the sharp intake of her breath. There was a moment of hesitation, and then she adjusted her stance.

“Wider.”

She began to sob aloud as she did his bidding, bracing her legs far apart, allowing Sir Devon and myself a clear view of her sensitive folds and the dusky petals of her opening, bathed in firelight. He let his finger stray close, tracing lightly around the perimeter but not yet touching her silky, damp lips.

“Do you like this?” he asked. “Do you like being spread open for my view, completely helpless to resist whatever I choose to do with you?”

In response, Arrabelle only whimpered, but she did not draw away from his touch. If anything, she opened herself a bit wider. Sir Devon chuckled.

His finger inched closer, the broad tip barely brushing across the lips of her pussy, then moving away, now dancing over her sensitive flesh once more. Was that another moan we heard? Wasn’t she rotating her hips flagrantly now, presenting her most intimate parts for his complete perusal?

Sir Devon laughed out loud and took a deep whiff of his fingers. Then he turned to me.

“You have chosen well, Lady Blake. Her basic nature is evident, and we are no doubt compatible. She obviously enjoys being tied here, where I might do as I wish.” His eyes roved over her possessively. “And I most certainly look forward to using her lovely body in every way imaginable.”

“I am glad you are pleased,” I said. But already he had turned his attention away from me and back to Arrabelle’s pussy. His britches strained with a massive erection. Although it was his option to wait until their wedding day, I couldn’t help but wish he would sample Arrabelle more thoroughly here tonight. One of the finer benefits of my position as Matcher was being present during these introductions. My own body heated and bloomed at the idea of observing Sir Devon taking the girl roughly from behind.

But for now he seemed preoccupied with her state of helplessness. His hand went back to her, stroking upwards on her thigh, arriving at the crease where it met her body, then shying away. She gasped and rocked forward. Again he made a bold stroke up her leg, changing course at the last moment. Another gasp.

“Do you want me to touch you inside, Arrabelle? Is your body aching for something to fill your sweet, empty pussy?”

Silently, emphatically she shook her head.

“No? Is there not a fire building here?” Pitiless in his bid to inspire her complete arousal, his fingertip scribed a maddeningly slow circle around the very edge of her pussy lips.

“Please,” she burst out at last.

“Please, what?” His voice was gruff as his finger continued to circle her pussy, relentlessly teasing, and then moving away. Her opening had begun to glisten with shameless passion.

“Yes. Oh. Please.” Soft little animal noises tumbled from her mouth. “Do something. I want – I want –”

Sir Devon gave a bark of laughter.

“You are such an innocent, my bride. You cannot possibly know what it is that you want. But your beautiful body wants something, yes?” He bent low beside her, capturing her face and turning her to meet his gaze. His thumb traced her plump lower lip as she stared back at him, panting, waiting for what he would do next.

“All right, little one, all right. You must trust me to take you where you long to go.” Keeping one hand on her face, he reached behind her and pressed his big finger into her gleaming slit, easing it into her up to his palm. She cried out sharply and then went still as he began to move the finger inside her. Now a second finger joined the first. As he moved them in and out, stretching her, his fingers glistened with her juices and a few streaks of red, proving what had been her virginal state.

“Oh. Oh,” she moaned, wriggling backwards against his hand. Her eyes drifted closed, an expression of rapt pleasure suffusing her face.

“Does that feel good little Arrabelle, my fingers playing in your wet pussy?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I’m glad you like it.” Letting go of her face, he reached deftly between her legs to find her clit. He delved between her folds, spreading them open, smearing her slick juices into every crease. Her sensitive bud perked up, and he rubbed across it, pinching until it was firm and swollen. Arrabelle’s breath came in broken gasps.

Observing how close she was to release, Sir Devon straightened and stood away, bringing his fingers to his face once more and inhaling deeply.

“You smell like heaven,” he said.

She mewed plaintively, left there on the precipice of her release. He watched her with dispassion for a moment or two, considering his options. Then he turned to me.

“As is the custom in my family, I will not bury my cock in her pussy until our wedding night. But I have been told there are other ways I might amuse myself with her this evening. Am I correct?” His pupils were blazing black, his erection even more prominent against the front of his pants. It was difficult not to stare; Devon McClare was well-endowed indeed.

“You are correct, Sir. But as Matcher, I must remain present at all times.”

“I understand. Tell me what other restraints you have that might afford me a view of my bride’s fair face and breasts while I play with her.” Arrabelle made another mewing sound. I glanced at her. She had not closed her legs, but stood with her pussy still fully exposed to our view, her face pink and anxious.

“Come with me,” I told him.

We crossed the room, into the shadows. I found the wrought iron handle of the secret panel and gave a yank, pulling the false wooden wall to one side. Mounted on the stone wall behind was a full selection of manacles and restraints, both of iron and of soft leather. Devon sucked in his breath and reached out to touch a pair of leather cuffs that dangled from a thick chain suspended from the ceiling. A matching pair of cuffs, spaced much wider apart, were mounted on the wall near the floor.

“Yes,” he murmured. “These will do nicely. Will you do the honors?”

I tipped my head. “Of course.”

Chapter Three

Within three minutes I had unlocked Arrabelle from her chair, removed the blue robe, and led her across to the stone wall. This time it was obvious she had no thought of escape. As I lifted her arms above her head and fastened her slim wrists into the new cuffs, she kept her eyes downcast, though I saw her glance once or twice at the virile man who lounged by the fire, watching avidly as I prepared her.

“Do you wish me to fasten the ankle straps?” I asked him.

“Perhaps later,” he answered, strolling toward us. “For now, let us see how cooperative she chooses to be. Let us see if she is learning to trust her master.” He stood just in front of her now, his eyes greedily taking in her plump white breasts and red mouth. When he lifted her chin, the expression in her beautiful green eyes was one of high arousal, tinged with uneasiness. No doubt the girl wondered whether her new master would treat her kindly or with an abusive hand.

“You won’t resist me, will you, my bride?” He cupped her naked breasts, kneading and squeezing. She sucked in her breath, then slowly shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face. His fingers closed on her nipples, finessing the tender tips until they jutted forth, hard and proud. She wriggled against the wall, whimpering softly as he fondled her.

“Your tits are exquisite,” he said, lowering his head to suckle one saucy tip as he continued to play with the other one. “I shall enjoy these immensely.” He kissed his way up her chest to her slender throat, and then took her mouth. Held captive by her restraints, Arrabelle stood stock still under the onslaught of his kisses. Open-mouthed, he plundered her lips until they looked tender and swollen. At last she returned his ardor, giving him several awkward, virginal kisses. This seemed to incite him, and his hand snaked down the front of her body and into the patch of golden curls. As his finger invaded her cleft once more, she gave a startled cry and tried to pull back. He pressed up hard against her, holding her body still against the cold stone of the wall as he probed, kissing her without abatement.

“Open, my little bride. Spread your legs again for me. Or would you prefer I force you to spread them?” Tentatively at first, she opened her stance, allowing him to explore her pussy once again. His fingers swirled and stroked, expertly orbiting her clit. She sagged back, letting her knees fall completely aside, inviting him with her sighs and whimpers to tease and pinch her engorged little bud. As he pleasured her, working her clit roughly between thumb and finger, she closed her eyes and let out a long, low moan. He grinned against her mouth, his tongue moving in a savage rhythm between her lips.

“You want to come, my bride?” he growled. “Have you a craving for release?”

Her eyes half-closed, cheeks stained crimson, Arrabelle swayed at the end of her chain, held helpless as once again her master brought her nearer and nearer to orgasm.

Then suddenly he stepped away, leaving her distraught, writhing. He watched her for a moment, a fond smile on his lips, then turned again to me.

“Lady Blake, have you any implements that might be employed to heighten my little bride’s pleasure?”

Knowing immediately what he wanted, I opened a nearby cupboard and brought out the blue basket. In it were a collection of short whips, a riding crop, a wooden paddle, a wide leather belt and several dildos of different sizes. A small box at the bottom of the basket held a selection of nipple clamps. He stroked each implement with care, as if imagining their use on the girl’s body. Finally he chose the riding crop and a very large false phallus of polished ivory. The size of the thing concerned me, given her virginal status. I decided I would wait to see how he introduced it.

As Sir Devon walked toward her with the crop and phallus in his hands, Arrabelle let out a little shriek and began a futile effort to free herself from her chains. I must say that she made a pretty sight; her arms stretched high above her head, with her naked breasts swaying and bouncing, and her long hair swirling around her in a golden cloud. Sir Devon stopped to admire her as well, his hungry gaze drinking in her vulnerable beauty.

“Enough!” he bellowed. Arrabelle froze. Heightened color decorated her cheeks, her breasts rising and falling with agitation. She waited, her eyes huge, fixed on the tools he held in his hands.

“Please, my lord.” It was barely a whisper from her kiss-swollen lips.

“Yes?” He extended his arm so that just the flexible tip of the crop trailed over her breasts. It circled one nipple, lifting and teasing, and then took a path down her belly.

“You do not trust me yet?” The closer the crop came to her pussy, the bigger Arrabelle’s eyes grew. She sucked in her breath as the tip of the crop nuzzled her cleft. Once again she had tightened her stance, her thighs closed. Sir Devon sighed, dragging the tip of the crop back and forth through the curls decorating her plump mound.

“I see I shall have to fasten your ankles apart, my bride.” At her fearful expression, he grinned. “It will only heighten your own pleasure, I promise you.”

In a flash he had knelt before her, affixing one ankle and then the other into the wide-spread leather manacles. She attempted to pull away, but her quivering legs were held most surely parted, the entrance to her pussy now completely unguarded. She began to whimper as he stroked up her thigh with the crop, tickling her tender flesh, working its way inexorably back to her exposed folds.

“Tell me, my delectable flower, shall I tie you like this every night in our boudoir?” The tip of the crop flicked across her swollen clit. She moaned and stood absolutely still, her face blooming with fresh arousal. He tapped her clit sharply with the implement and she cried out.

“Shall I?” he asked again.

Their gaze met and held. Her breath hitched as she waited for the next nip of the little whip. Her tongue flicked over her wet lips. When the sting came she nearly swooned, unable as she was to protect her most tender parts from his avid ministrations.

It was obvious to us both that the bite of the crop pleased and excited her, but Sir Devon wanted the girl to admit in words what her willing body had already betrayed.

“Shall I tie you thus every night, Arrabelle?” he demanded a third time.

“Yes. Yes!” Her voice broke.

“Yes, what? What is it you want me to do to you, my pretty one? Tell me.”

She was silent for a moment, staring at the ivory phallus he still held.

“Yes. Bind me like this, my lord,” she whispered. Then she grew bolder, her body trembling as he stepped forward and nudged her mound with the head of the phallus. “Yes, yes, my lord. Touch me as you will.” Her voice shook as she looked at her master’s face. “I am yours to use.”

“And you like it, don’t you, Arrabelle?”

“I do, my lord,” she admitted, dropping her gaze, spots of high color on her lovely cheeks.

He took her mouth again in a passionate kiss, rubbing the thick head of the dildo between her legs while she squirmed and writhed. At last he positioned it over her opening, and began to work it in. Further and further the dildo went in, until her slight body seemed impaled upon it. Then he withdrew the imposing phallus, wet and slippery with her juices. He pumped it slowly in and out of her pussy, while his other hand continued working her clit, stroking and strumming until finally her eyes rolled back. She squealed and bucked, her hips moving in the most primitive dance. Eyes wide, Arrabelle finally orgasmed around the ivory phallus, and then went limp, her manacles supporting her slumped body until he freed her.

Sir Devon carried her to the padded chaise near the fire, his eyes roving tenderly over her inert form. He smoothed the hair back from her face and kissed her lips. Finally her eyes fluttered open.

“What happened to me?”

“You had a sexual release—an orgasm.” He kissed her again. “You were beautiful.”

“I was?” she asked, looking up into his face.

“You were perfect, my sweet captive. I have seldom enjoyed myself more.”

“And I might have this release every night, my lord, when we are married?”

“Indeed little bride. I shall require it.” His laugh was rich and deep, and I knew then the seeds of a true love match had been planted here tonight.

Her hand strayed up and touched his face.

“What of you, my lord? Will you also have such a release?”

“You may be sure of it.” He took her hand from his face and cupped it over his erection. “Do you not feel how hard I am for you? Seeing your naked body tied and helpless was the most arousing experience I have ever had. You are more than I had ever hoped to find, Arrabelle.”

She reached up for him then and he bent low into her embrace, kissing her lips, her eyes, and her hair. And as they kissed, her hand began to move on his swollen member, stroking and caressing him until a ragged groan broke free from his lips.

“I do believe I shall have you after all, little wife,” he declared. He straddled her where she lay on the chaise. “If not in your sweet pussy, then between these red lips of yours.”

As he positioned himself above her and pulled his huge penis free of his pants, her eyes widened.

“What do you wish me to do with it?”

He touched the dark head to her lips.

“Suck it, Arrabelle. Take it deep into your warm little mouth and use your clever tongue to tease and torture me.”

Arrabelle’s red lips parted, and he pushed his cock into her mouth, only an inch or two at first, then further in. As she drew it in, her lips working, he gave a guttural groan and closed his eyes. Her fingers found their way to his member, fluttering and squeezing and petting. Soon she was suckling like a hungry babe, her tongue lapping and swirling at the swollen tip. I heard her give a deep sigh of satisfaction.

“Such delicious, salty elixir drips from your organ,” she said, licking at the eye of his cock, drawing his fluid into her mouth. After only a few moments of her eager attention, Sir Devon gave a great cry and braced himself above her. He came violently as I watched, pulling his cock out of her mouth to spew his seed on her breasts. Then he lowered himself to lie beside her on the couch, nuzzling and kissing her.

Although it went against all Matcher’s dictums, I slipped away then, finding some reason to be absent for a few moments so that they might seal their love bond in privacy. When I returned, Arrabelle lay alone on the chaise, covered by the blue satin robe. A faraway expression hovered in her emerald eyes.

“Is it always so magical, Lady Blake?” She propped herself on one elbow and watched as I put the room to rights.

“What’s that, my dear?”

“The leather, the chain. Being bound so helplessly before him.” She sighed in contentment.

“For you it is. And for Sir Devon as well. He has fallen in love with you already because you appealed to the part of him that longs to dominate.”

“I liked it,” she admitted shyly, “from the very first. Just as you somehow knew I would.”

“Then you are one of the lucky ones, Arrabelle. Come,” I said. “Let us go tuck you into bed now, and leave the rest of the mystery for your wedding night.”

The Queen leaned back, a satisfied smile quirking one corner of her withered mouth.

“Most instructive,” she murmured. “And what became of these two?”

“They married, Your Grace. After the third year, they cemented their marriage by becoming Prime Compeers, and soon had two children. They continue to this day to be most happily matched. I presented them with a set of golden chains and cuffs as a wedding gift, which I understand Sir Devon uses to restrain his naughty wife whenever he – or she - feels it necessary.”

Ferran rose from her stool.

“You are excused, Lady Blake. I shall await you tomorrow evening as usual.”

Ferran curtseyed and went toward the door. As she eased it closed behind her, she heard the Queen summon her maidservant forward.

“Fetch my basket, girl. I believe I shall require the blue one tonight.”

The End

www.pepperanthony.com

Other Books by Pepper Anthony:

Indecent Encounters

Naked Treats

AFTER THE HONEYMOON

Copyright © Rachel Clark 2011

Chapter One

Michelle watched as Ally breezed in the door with barely five minutes to spare. Marriage certainly seemed to agree with the woman, especially in the last few months. Ally had gone from working ten hour days, just like Michelle, to starting and finishing her work day on time. The rub of it was that Ally seemed to have boundless energy and usually got more work done in eight hours than Michelle could manage in ten.

“Good morning, Michelle.” The woman was becoming impossible to work with. Who on God’s green Earth could sound that happy on a Monday morning?

Michelle managed a nod and a half-smile but made sure to look away quickly lest her jealousy colored her expression. And that’s what it was, plain and simple—jealousy. The woman was ridiculously happy and Michelle wasn’t.

How the fuck had she gotten here?

Nearly thirty, married to a man who seemed more than happy to let her make every decision, follow her every lead in every choice, every stupid fucking day. Hell, the man was even happy to let her shoulder the responsibility for contraception and let her decide when they would be ready to start a family. Even despite the fact he loved kids and would make a wonderful father, Keith was willing to let her choose—now, later or never. He was more than happy to let her decide their future.

A cup of coffee appeared on her desk and she nodded her thanks, knowing without even looking that it was Ally.

“Are you okay, hun?”

Startled by the question, Michelle glanced up at the sweet, bubbly, enthusiastic woman and hated her even more. Why would Ally be nice to her? Even before the woman’s ridiculous happiness had tripled, Michelle had disliked her. Michelle was old enough and self-aware enough to realize that her emotions had little to do with Ally and more to do with her own frustration, but it didn't make it any easier to cope.

And unfortunately, her co-worker was waiting for an answer.

“I’m fine,” Michelle managed to mumble. “Just the usual Monday crap. Thanks for the coffee,” she said dismissively, but the silly woman had no sense of self-preservation and hovered on the other side of the desk.

“Actually, I wanted to invite you and Keith for dinner this weekend.”

“Why?” The question slipped from her lips before she could get a grip on her emotions. Damn!

Ally smiled serenely and shrugged. “Why not? Keith and Greg have known each other forever, and you and I work together. It makes sense that the four of us should be friends.”

“I….” Michelle hesitated, unsure what to say next. Some days she felt so dissatisfied with the way her life was shaping up that she really didn’t want to talk to anyone. Ally’s obvious happiness just made Michelle feel more miserable. But of course, Ally was still waiting for an answer. “I… Can I get back to you?

“Sure,” she said with a nod. She gave Michelle another concerned smile and wandered over to her own desk.

Michelle tried to stifle the deep groan that she felt all the way to her soul. God, she hated Mondays.

* * * *

Keith couldn't quite believe how happy Greg seemed. The man practically bounced with enthusiasm and it was really making Keith feel old. Greg and Ally had only been married a short time but they seemed so frigging happy.

“I think Michelle's going to divorce me.” Damn that was not what he meant to say but it did feel good to voice his fear out loud. Michelle was more and more unhappy each day and he had no idea how to stop the downward slide of his marriage.

Greg looked concerned, but like a typical bloke, simply waited for Keith to explain, or not. But something inside him demanded that he get a fresh perspective, a different viewpoint. Maybe Greg was the person who could do that. After all, he'd given up the lifestyle to marry sweet, innocent Ally just the way Keith had when he'd married Michelle.

“I'm not making her happy,” he said, running a hand through his short hair. “I've tried not to be demanding. I've given her every chance to make choices for herself yet she seems to grow more miserable. I'd hoped to start a family by now but any time I bring it up she just dismisses it as not a good time.” Keith glanced over to see the worried expression on his best friend's face. They'd met years ago, when they were both Doms at an underground fetish club, and even though they'd both fallen in love with women outside of the lifestyle they'd stayed good friends.

Greg stood there waiting for more, not commenting. He seemed happy denying his dominant side and Keith felt suddenly angry at his best friend for being able to do it, when Keith himself struggled on a daily basis. Giving Michelle final choice over every aspect of their lives was killing him. Hell, maybe she wasn't the only one thinking of divorce, and that thought was truly depressing. He loved his wife. He just couldn't see how things might get any better.

“How do you do it?” he asked.

“I don't,” Greg answered simply.

Not in the mood for cryptic answers, Keith crossed his arms over his chest, widened his stance and stood waiting for a more complete answer. Greg smiled but seemed to stifle a small laugh.

“We don't. Ally and I are living the lifestyle.”

“Ally's your sub?” Keith asked, unable to hide his credulity. Sweet, innocent, confident, verbally-kick-you-in-the-balls-if-you-piss-her-off Ally was Greg's submissive? Greg nodded and Keith had never wanted to punch someone more in his life. How the hell had Greg gotten so lucky that he could marry a woman like Ally and still get everything he'd ever wanted?

“When?” It was the only word he could work past the anger crowding his throat. He knew it was jealously, plain and simple, riding him at this moment, but he couldn't seem to rein it in. Hell, suppressing his dominant tendencies was messing with his head.

Greg smiled that happy smile again and Keith's hands curled into fists. Fuck.

Fortunately a good Dom could sense the moods of others, not just his sub, and Greg held Keith's gaze as he explained exactly what had happened last Christmas. By the time he was finished Keith had moved past anger and slid right into depression.

“Michelle would never go for it. She likes being in charge. She needs to make her own choices. She'd tear me a new one if I ever tried to dominate her.”

“But you said she's about ready to divorce you,” Greg reiterated. “Maybe at this point you have nothing to lose. Wouldn't it be better find out than to walk away from each other and never know what might've been?”

* * * *

The day seemed like a never ending barrage of problem after problem and it had all been preferable to going home. Michelle sat in her car and dropped her head onto the steering wheel. Her marriage was a disaster, but she couldn't seem to find the energy to end it. Lately Keith avoided her anyway, so she was a little surprised to see his car already in the garage.

She walked into the house and her stomach grumbled at the delicious smell. Obviously her husband had been home long enough to cook one of her favorite meals. A small curl of anticipation unwound in her stomach but she ruthlessly squelched the idea. For all she knew, he was cooking vegetable lasagna to make his request for divorce seem less callous. God, she'd almost welcome it. At least it would mean he was capable of making a decision without her.

Feeling very tired, she went into the bedroom, dragged off her work clothes and pulled on a pair of sweats. If she was going to get bad news at least she was going to be comfortable. Agreeing to a divorce with your panty hose riding up your ass just seemed that much worse.

She pulled her hair into a functional ponytail and then left the room to go face her soon to be ex-husband.

* * * *

Keith's first glimpse of his wife was not encouraging. Granted, they'd been married for several years, but lately she didn't seem at all interested in her appearance—at least not when he was around. It didn't sit well with him and he wondered if he had something to do with her choice of apparel. Had he, by accepting her choices in everything, left her feeling unloved? Hell, he hoped not. Despite the terrible ache in his chest he loved his wife more now than the day he'd married her. They'd just taken a wrong turn somewhere. Hopefully they could find their way back to each other.

Gut churning, he decided to greet her the way he'd done in the early days of their marriage. “Hello, beautiful.” He walked over to Michelle and pulled her into his embrace for a quick hug. She stayed stiff in his arms, not returning his hug but he tried not to let it discourage him. He dropped a kiss on her surprised expression but noted at least that she didn't pull away.

And then, simply because he couldn't help himself, he pulled the band off her ponytail and arranged her thick auburn hair around her shoulders. She watched him with a confused expression on her face, but again, she didn't pull away.

“Sit,” he said, pointing to the table he'd already laid out. She seemed bemused by his order but did as he requested. He turned to the oven and quickly slid squares of lasagna onto plates and carried them to the table. “How was your day?” he asked, as he grabbed the salad and joined her at the table.

“Same old, same old,” she dismissed as she picked up her fork to start eating.

Okay, so it wasn't the most original question but the non-answer was disconcerting. The fact that she didn't ask about his day was even more troubling. It seemed she'd given up on the social niceties as well as their marriage.

He started eating his dinner, trying really hard to ignore the quiet withdrawal of his wife. They'd been doing this for longer than he cared to admit and it seemed unlikely to change any time soon. Greg's advice pounded in his skull and Keith dropped his fork to the plate in irritation.

“Do you want a divorce?” He tried to keep the words even but they came out angry instead.

“Maybe,” she said, tearing his heart out at the same time she gave him a spark of hope. “Do you?”

Fuck, no! But the words that came out of his mouth were the ones he'd used far too often in this marriage.

“I want to make you happy.” His inner dominant snarled in frustration. What he wanted to do was throw her over his shoulder, tie her to the bed, spank her ass for being so goddamned frustrating, and then make love to her until she agreed they belonged together.

“Uh-huh.” Her answer was very non-committal, and the almost-smirk on her lips set his inner dominant growling like a caged lion.

“What the fuck do you mean by 'uh-huh'?”

Her gaze flew to his face and he was pleased at least that he'd shocked her into a reaction. He'd never sworn around his lovely wife but if that's what it took to get her attention then he'd use language that would make a sailor blush.

“I…I…uhm…I…”

“Explain exactly what you mean by 'uh-huh',” he demanded.

Her eyes widened at his tone but she began talking, “Just that you say you want to make me happy but, well, I'm not happy.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said in a quieter voice, “but I just don't know what to do. How can I make you happy?”

She rolled her eyes and he knew whatever came out of her mouth next was not going to be pleasant.

“You could make a fucking decision for once in your life.” The curse word rolled off her tongue so easily it was obvious it wasn't the first time she'd used it. That added to the inference that his willingness to let her choose the direction of their life together was somehow a weakness combined to make him just a little bit nuts.

He stood up so quickly that his chair hit the wall. He was barely aware of the clatter as he stalked over to his wife, pulled her to a standing position and lifted her over his shoulder. He'd taken five steps before she recovered from her shock and started cursing and kicking her legs. She landed a couple of good punches on his lower back, so he tilted her further over his shoulder so that she would feel her balance precarious enough to want to hold on, not fight. He'd never drop her, but she had no way of knowing that.

When he got to the bedroom, he sat on the bed and slid his wayward wife off his shoulder and face down over his lap in one smooth move. He managed to avoid getting kicked in the face as he pulled her track pants and underwear to her knees, but had to use both hands to hold her down as she screamed and thrashed and cursed his name.

He was starting to worry this had been a bad decision when she finally gave up fighting his hold and lay quiescent over his knees. He smoothed his hand over the perfect flesh of her ass. She was soft and curvy and he'd often imagined her buttocks and thighs red from his hand. A shudder worked through him as images of all the things he would love to do with his beautiful wife slid through his brain. His cock throbbed and he wished he'd thought to take off his own clothes first.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked sarcastically. “Just get it over with so I can pack your things and kick your ass out of my house.”

Chapter Two

“Your house?” Keith asked as he continued to caress her ass. “I suppose it is. I never actually got a say in the location, or the design, or the size, or the decorating. In fact, I'm pretty sure all of those decisions were made without me.”

“You didn't want to know,” she said, sounding annoyed. “You've left every goddamned decision to me. You're not even capable of making a decision. Hell, I'm almost surprised you didn't call and ask me what you should make for dinner. But then, you made my favorite so it's not like you made an actual decision.”

He rubbed his hand softly over her bottom, noticing her unconscious reaction to his caress. She'd practically melted over his legs and despite the irritation in her voice, she'd begun to relax whether she'd intended to or not.

“So,” he said carefully, hoping he was judging the situation correctly, “you want a husband who can make decisions for you.”

“Yes,” she said, but then quickly changed her mind. “No, I mean…hell. I don't know what I mean.” After a moment of silence she added, “I just don't want to feel alone anymore.” He stilled at her quiet confession. They'd made each other miserable even as they'd tried not to.

“You're not alone,” he said, smoothing his hand over her bottom once more. “We both have to be honest with what we need in this relationship. I've tried to respect your independence, but by letting you make all the decisions I seem to have made you feel like I wasn't there beside you.”

She nodded her head against his legs and he realized she was crying. Carefully he lifted her onto his lap and cradled her against his chest. “I'm sorry, baby. I've been denying my own need to be in control, but I never meant for it to hurt you as well.”

He smoothed a hand over her hair, running his fingers through her rich auburn curls. Her hair was her one indulgence. She paid good money for the multi-colored strands and wavy curls. The color suited her perfectly. Selfishly, he wanted her to wear it this way for him, not just for work.

“Why do you put your hair in a ponytail as soon as you get home?”

She shrugged. “I guess it's just easier.”

“Wear it this way for me, please?”

She leaned back so that she could see his face. “Why?” she asked looking perplexed.

It was his turn to shrug. How could he explain his need without sounding like a selfish, demanding ass? Any woman familiar with his old lifestyle would've done it without needing an explanation. But Michelle knew nothing of his former life, so he tried to find a way to answer.

“Do you know what a Dom is?” He held his breath. So much hinged on this conversation that a part of him really didn't want to tell her. But if they wanted to salvage their failing marriage then they both needed to be honest. Michelle needed to know the true man she'd married, not the watered down version.

* * * *

Michelle tried to hide her reaction, but he must've felt her stiffen because he started to run his hand through her hair and down her spine in comforting sweeps. She knew what a Dom was, she read romance novels all the time, but she'd never expected the word to come out of her husband's mouth.

“Yes,” she whispered, not really sure she wanted to know where this conversation was going. He seemed a little surprised by her answer. He shifted, moved her into the middle of the bed and stretched out beside her. He propped himself on his elbow and caressed her stomach for a moment before moving again. “Off.” He grunted the word as he lifted her top over her head, removed her bra and slid her pants and underwear off her legs.

He lay down beside her once more, his lazy caress sending tingles from her stomach straight to her pussy.

“How much do you know?”

She wanted to rub her legs together. It seemed like such a long time since they'd had sex that her libido was suddenly kicking back in with a vengeance.

“Concentrate,” he demanded. “How much do you know about Doms?”

Trying not to lose her train of thought once more, Michelle ended up blurting out the truth. “I read BDSM books all the time.”

“So you're interested in the lifestyle?” He looked like he was holding his breath as he waited for her answer. But she didn't want to give him the wrong answer.

“Maybe a little,” she said honestly. A lot of the books she'd read had been interesting and exciting, but she wasn't sure being spanked with a paddle would be nearly as pleasurable as it sounded in a fictional story.

He smiled at her response and his fingers slid lower, caressing the top of her mound as he asked his next question.

“Would you like to try some things from your books?”

When she didn't answer immediately, he lowered his fingers to swirl around her clit. The needy little bud throbbed for his attention but he refused to touch it. She lifted her hips off the bed, her need growing exponentially.

“Be still,” he growled in a voice that had her stopping her movement immediately. He continued his torture as he repeated his question.

“Would you like to try some things from your books?”

She nodded, words escaping her as the need to climax built to extraordinary proportions. Hell, she couldn't ever remember being this turned on so quickly.

“Sp…spanking sounds interesting, but,” she added quickly when his eyes darkened and his smile turned feral, “nothing too painful.”

He nodded. “What else?”

“Nipple clamps. The ones you can screw closed,”—his fingers ran over her clit and she dragged in a lung full of air—”n…not the spring loaded things. Th…they sound harsh even in books.”

He nodded and ran his fingers over her clit several more times. She was about to explode in orgasm but he immediately pulled back. She growled her frustration but he just smiled serenely.

“What about anal play?” he asked as his fingers dipped lower to slide through her labial lips and press at the entrance to her pussy. She shook her head even as she lifted her hips off the bed straining to get him inside her. “No?” he asked as his finger swirled in her juices and then slid lower. He pressed against the rosette of her ass and she moaned at the strange pleasure.

“You may be saying no, but your body is saying yes,” he whispered in her ear as his finger pressed harder against the sensitive skin. She tried to stifle the needy moan working its way up her throat.

“Sounds painful,” she said again.

“It can be,” he whispered in a dark, seductive voice full of promise. “But done right it can also be incredibly pleasurable for both of us.” He wriggled his finger, the muscles loosening just a little as he pressed harder. “One day I want to watch my cock sink into this beautiful ass and then fuck you until you beg me to let you come.”

* * * *

He watched Michelle's eyes darken with need as he promised to teach her the darker pleasures of anal sex. Hell, maybe Greg had been right. He felt closer to his wife at this moment than he had in three years of marriage. But, as much as he wanted to follow through on his darker needs, he needed to ease Michelle into the lifestyle.

He sat up, taking a seat at the end of the bed again. He grabbed her ankle to tug her toward him. She looked slightly amused until he said, “Time for your spanking, sub.” Keith held still, waiting. It had to be her choice. He refused to do anything his wife didn't want to do, but he wasn't above offering a little encouragement.

“Come here, baby, and I promise you will get that orgasm you so desperately need.”

She looked undecided for a moment but then slowly shuffled to the end of the bed and stood beside him. He wrapped a strong hand around her wrist and guided her to lie face down over his lap. “Good girl,” he said as he caressed the soft globes of her ass. “We'll start slowly.”

She nodded, visibly relaxing as he rubbed her skin, warming it with his hand. He watched her reaction carefully as he delivered the first few slaps. Slowly he made the blows harder, sharper and she moaned in pleasure as his fingers grazed her pussy lips. She began to move into his hand and he suddenly realized that his beautiful wife enjoyed pain a little more than she thought.

Chapter Three

Michelle could barely feel the slaps anymore. Her clit buzzed and her legs quivered all on their own. She wanted to rub herself against his knees, desperate to claim the climax that beckoned. She gasped as he sped up, the slaps getting harder, faster, sharper. Her clit throbbed, her pussy wept juices, and her breasts rubbed against his leg.

“Come for me, sub,” he growled. The last blow landed on her pussy lips and she cried out as her orgasm burst. Every muscle quivered and she panted as the incredible feelings continued to bounce through her. Just as the electric shocks settled into delicious tingles, Keith pushed his finger straight into her ass and she exploded in orgasm once more. She rode the wave of ecstasy as he slowly gentled her with loving caresses and soothing sounds.

Finally spent, she lay exhausted over his lap and tried not to think about the strange sight she must make. God, she was head down, ass up, with her cream gliding down her thighs and her butt probably red enough to glow in the dark, yet she felt more satisfied than she ever had before. And that included their honeymoon when they'd basically fucked like bunnies.

“Bath time,” he said as he rolled her over and then lifted her against his chest. He moved into the adjoining bathroom, sat her onto the counter top and fiddled with the taps. The cool counter felt wonderful on her hot bottom and she moaned quietly at the soothing feeling. Still a little stunned from the intensity of her orgasm, she watched his movements for a few moments before she realized he was still fully dressed. How had she missed that major detail?

“Keith?” she asked, not really sure what she wanted to say.

“Yes, baby?” He sounded happier than he had in quite some time.

“I…uhm…You've never called me baby before.” It wasn't what she'd had in mind when she'd opened her mouth, but she really wanted to know why the sudden change. He'd called her 'babe' early in their relationship, but in the last few years it had all been “Michelle”, no endearments at all.

She watched, unable to hide her fascination as her husband seemed to blush. Surely there had to be a problem with the light in here, Keith was many things but she'd never known him to color in embarrassment.

“I'm sorry,” he said, confusing her even more. “I guess I forgot you prefer Michelle.”

“No, I don't.”

“You don't?” He shook his head, looking very confused. “But I've seen your reaction when people call you Shelley or Shell, you hate it.” She nodded. That was true, but it didn't mean she didn't want him to use an endearment just for her.

“I like it when you call me baby. Makes it feel like I'm special to you.”

“Oh, hell,” he said. She was in his arms in an instant and he held her pressed against his heart. She relaxed against him as she listened to the familiar lud-dub sound. There was a time she'd slept with her head in this spot every night, but she couldn't even remember the last time they'd touched in their sleep. How had they drifted so far apart?

“I'm sorry, baby. I didn’t ever mean to make you feel unloved. You are special to me. You always have been, and I really just want you to be happy.”

Tears filled her eyes and she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight.

* * * *

Keith could feel the tremble in his arms as he held his wife against his chest. He'd come so close to losing her and hadn't even known why. Shit, just about everything he'd done had worked against them. He'd denied his dominant tendencies, and she'd felt like she'd been left alone to make decisions for both of them. He'd curtailed his need to call her by affectionate names, and she'd felt unloved. And he'd reined in his possessiveness and she'd felt unwanted.

What the hell had he been thinking?

Even as he rocked his wife in his arms he knew exactly what he'd been thinking. He'd worked hard to become the man he thought she wanted, not the man she needed. She'd married him long before he'd overcome all of his dominant tendencies, so she'd been attracted to his strengths. It didn't matter that she'd insisted on getting her own way more often than not, he shouldn't have let her have the final say in everything. In the end she hadn't even consulted him on anything at all. She'd just assumed he didn't have an opinion.

He glanced around the bathroom. It was decorated in soft pastels and girlie colors and he'd often felt uncomfortable shaving in here because it was so opposite to his own tastes.

“I hate this bathroom,” he said.

She seemed shocked by his abrupt change of subject, and lifted her head away from his chest to glance around the room as if she'd never seen it before.

“What's wrong with it?” she demanded, that familiar defensive tone sharpening her voice.

“I don't feel welcome.”

She looked at him as if he'd grown a second head, but glanced around the room again. After a few moments she let out a soft sigh and looked directly at him. “I suppose it is rather feminine. I could probably make it more welcoming with a coat of paint and a few less ruffles.”

“I'd appreciate it,” he said, feeling relief slither through his veins. His instinct had been to not upset her, but if they were serious about fixing their marriage they needed to give and take in this marriage. “Now, baby. Time for a bath.”

He lifted her in his arms and helped her to stand in the bath. He held her hand to steady her as she lowered into the coolish water. She seemed a little surprised by the temperature but smiled when she lowered to sit on her sore bottom.

“How do you know about Doms and spanking and stuff?” she asked curiously.

“I used to be one,” he said without preamble. Hell, in for a penny…

“When?” Again her tone was curious and he felt a moment of relief that she wasn't angry.

“I gave it up around the same time I met you,” he said quietly. He didn't wait for her reaction. It hadn't been a chore, but a willing sacrifice. He'd loved her enough to walk away from a lifestyle that had suited him. It was only now that he realized it had been a mistake for both of them. He leaned over and started washing her down with a soft washcloth and her favorite bath gel. She seemed embarrassed by his attentions but he refused to back off. She needed this. Needed to feel loved, cherished, and special to him.

She grabbed at his arms as he went to wash her inner thighs and pussy. He growled softly and caught her hands in one of his own. “No, baby. Relax.” It wasn't a request but a full-on bossy order. For a moment she seemed willing to fight him on it, but then she took a deep breath and relaxed. He moved the washcloth over her thighs and then paid extra special attention to her pussy. She was panting and practically rubbing herself against his hand by the time he finished.

“Stand up.” She did so quickly and again he felt a measure of satisfaction. This time, at least, his instincts seemed to be leading them in the right direction. He helped her step out onto the mat and then grabbed a soft towel to dry her down. He took his time, making certain that every inch of her was properly cared for. By the time he was finished her eyes were glazed with need and she seemed ready to pounce on him. He smiled and lifted her into his arms once more.

Back in the bedroom he placed her on the end of the bed, positioning her bottom right on the edge. He knelt between her legs and pushed her knees wide apart. She wriggled to get closer and he slapped her inner thigh sharply. “Enough! Lie back sub or I will tie you down and refuse to let you orgasm until you behave.” She moaned as she complied and he laved his tongue up her slit in reward. Her hands fluttered for a moment but then she must've realized the implicit demand and dropped her hands by her side.

“Good girl,” he hummed against her clit. “I think my baby deserves a reward.”

He slid his thumbs through her wet labia and separated the flesh to expose her clit. The tiny nub looked full and swollen and he knew it wouldn't take much to tip his wife over the edge into climax. He laved his tongue over the stiff little bud and she groaned at the intense sensation. Feeling particularly wicked he blew a stream of air over the wet flesh and held her thighs still as her muscles quivered and she tried to close her legs.

“I think my sub likes that,” he said and then did it again. Wet lick, cool air, massage her quivering thighs, he did it over and over. She writhed against his hold, her body begging for completion but he held her there as long as he could stand before growling against her swollen clit and demanding, “Come now.”

A surge of pure male triumph poured through him as his woman did exactly what he'd demanded. Michelle gasped and shook violently as the climax he'd long denied her rippled through every muscle. He soothed her with long slow licks and the muscles in her legs popped and jumped with every swipe over her clit.

Finally she lay still and he surged over her to kiss her lips. She hesitated when she saw his face shiny with her juices, but he didn't let her retreat, merely covered her mouth with his own and forced her to taste her own cream. She held still for a moment but when she didn't get the gross taste she'd so obviously been expecting, she kissed him back and curled her tongue against his own.

He pressed his jean-clad cock against her sensitive flesh, grinding against her as he felt her arousal start to climb again.

“Stay still,” he said as he levered away from her and went to the closet. A long time ago he'd bought a deluxe bondage and fetish kit for them, but he'd given up on the idea when he'd realized Michelle's need to always be in control. But some niggling little doubt had never let him give it away.

He dragged his own clothes off, then grabbed the padded cuffs and Velcro straps and headed back to his sub. She lay in the same position he'd left her and he smiled at the way she lay sprawled for his enjoyment.

Keith grabbed her left arm and wrapped the cuff around her wrist, making sure the fit was snug but not too tight. She watched him, not saying anything, not protesting but certainly not blinking either. He grabbed her other arm, repeated the process, linked the cuffs together and then dragged her up to the top of the bed. He threaded the Velcro strap through several of the rungs of the wooden headboard and then secured it to her cuffs.

She jumped in fright when he grabbed her ankle but she didn't pull away when he attached the cuff and secured it to the end of the bed with another Velcro strap. He shuffled her across the bed a little so that he could pull her legs wide and then fastened the last Velcro strap. “Are you comfortable, sub?”

She looked a little shell shocked, so he stepped closer to her head to be certain she was okay and not about to scream blue murder. She nodded slowly and relief did a giddy little dance in his head before he managed to fully consider her response.

“The correct response is 'Yes, Master'.” She gave him an almost incredulous look but dutifully repeated his words. “Good girl,” he said and watched as her expression softened. Yes, that was definitely a term of endearment he planned to use often from now on.

He crawled onto the bed and knelt over her lower abdomen and caught her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Gently he tormented the erect nubs, gratified to notice that his lovely sub wasn't able to move in her bonds. She was his for the taking and he'd make sure she never forgot who she belonged to.

She breathed heavily as he shuffled lower and took a nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his lips as he tugged at the other with his fingers. She yelped as he bit down, and she moaned as he soothed the sting with his tongue.

“You are so beautiful like this,” he said, running his hands all over her delicious body.

Her eyes were glazed with need, her whimpers music to his ears as he slid lower and fit his cock against her open pussy lips. He rubbed the head against her wet curls, enjoying the warm slippery welcome and then slid slowly into her pussy. Fully seated in her body, he held still and lowered his full weight against her for just a moment, trapping her to the bed, imprinting her with his possession.

Then he lifted onto his arms and slid his cock into and out of her welcoming heat several times. She moaned at the lazy pace but he continued to fuck her slowly. Michelle was his wife and his sub and he intended to enjoy every moment together. Her pussy muscles fluttered around his invasion and he couldn't help but increase his pace. Need built rapidly and he could feel his orgasm boiling in his balls.

He fucked her harder, mindless with need, desperate to claim his sub. She was with him every step of the way, but a moment of clarity stopped him.

He'd promised one day he'd take her ass. Not today of course, but he had something that would help prepare her for his possession.

* * * *

Michelle was on the verge of another incredible orgasm when he pulled away. She heard herself whimper at the loss, but bit her tongue against crying out. She didn't beg. She'd never begged for anything—not since the day her father had left her and her sister and mother without a backward glance. It hadn't helped then and she sure as hell wouldn't resort to it now.

She felt the strap on her left leg loosen. Not knowing what he planned, she let him move her whichever way he wanted, willing to give into his demands even if she wouldn't beg. He loosened the other leg and then lifted her hips into the air and rolled her onto her stomach.

“Up,” he demanded as he lifted her onto her hands and knees. She quickly complied but was a little disconcerted when he pushed pillows under her pelvis and pulled the leg straps tight once more. Face down, her ass and pussy in the air, she'd never felt more exposed—or more turned on.

She could feel her vaginal muscles clenching rhythmically in anticipation but he moved away from the bed once more. She lifted her head, curious about what he was doing, but her position made it difficult to see.

She heard something like a wrapper being opened, then the taps in the bathroom ran for a few moments. A moment later the bed dipped slightly as he climbed back onto the edge. She heard something squirt and then a cold slippery substance landed on her exposed anus.

“No,” she said as fear filled every corner of her mind. He said he would fuck her ass one day. She wasn't ready for it to be today.

“Shhh, baby, this is a butt plug. It will help prepare you for my cock.” He ran a soothing hand up and down her spine until she relaxed slightly.

“Can I see it?” she asked, sounding like a coward but unable to hide the wobble in her voice. She felt the bed dip again and then he was there beside her, a pink piece of soft-looking plastic in his hand. It wasn't much thicker than a finger at the tip, but flared a little wider toward the top before narrowing again. It had a part at the top that looked kind of like a handle.

“This is a beginner's plug. It will just help to relax the muscles. We'll gradually use bigger plugs until you can take my cock without pain.”

She nodded, not sure if she was nodding her understanding or giving her permission to stick that thing up her ass, but he moved back into position between her thighs and pressed the heavily lubricated plug against her anus.

“This will hurt less if you relax,” he said in a voice that made it clear that wasn't a suggestion. She breathed out and tried to unclench her butt muscles. “Push out with your muscles,” he said as he wiggled it against her puckered hole. It slid in a little as she pushed out and he patiently worked it in further. Her ass closed around the thinner neck of the plug and she breathed a sigh of relief that it was over.

But a strange thing happened. He tapped the end of the plug and a delicious pain traveled straight to her clit. She moaned at the sensation, barely aware of trying to grind her mound against the pillows.

“Naughty girl,” he said as a sharp slap landed on her ass. It jiggled the plug and sent another burst of heat straight to her clit. She groaned as he slapped her again. “Once more, sub, and you will be punished.” She shivered with need as memories of the last punishment he'd given her curled through her mind. She desperately wanted to come again and a naughty internal voice dared her to try it.

Undecided, she held still as he caressed her thighs and buttocks.

“Good girl,” he said again and suddenly pleasing him was more important than her own gratification.

She felt him kneel behind her, his cock tapping her ass as he kissed her back and shoulders gently. “Are you comfortable, sub?”

“Yes,” she said on a sigh even though she wasn't exactly comfortable. Forget comfort, she wanted to be fucked.

“Yes, what?” he asked in a commanding voice.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good girl.” And there it was again, that need to please him, the need to forgo her own pleasure for his.

“I'm going to fuck you now, sub,” he said as he pushed his cock into her aching channel. He slid deep, held still for a moment, letting her adjust to the feel of a cock in her pussy and a plug up her ass at the same time, and then he started moving.

Chapter Four

He groaned at the amazing feel of her wet heat wrapped tightly around his cock. Even with the beginners plug she gripped him like a glove. He slowly pulled out trying to control his impulses long enough to let her body adjust. He slid back in at the same steady pace but then he felt her pussy clench and he was lost.

He pulled out, only to pound into her harder, faster, more forcefully. She gasped as he fucked her like he'd never fucked her before. He pushed her hips down, grinding her mound against the pillows and hopefully catching her clit. A moment later she screamed as her orgasm ripped through her and gripped his cock even harder.

Keith ground his teeth, trying to delay his own orgasm but she writhed beneath him, grunting and panting as her almost violent climax pounded through her. Even with her bonds she managed to writhe and a small kernel of clarity spiked into his mind, and he fell forward onto her to hold her still.

“Shhh, baby,” he said as her pussy milked his cock. “Stay still. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Her internal muscles pulsed again and his cum shot from him, hurling deep into her body, marking her as his, claiming his mate.

As soon as she stilled he lifted his weight off her prostrate body and moved to undo her bonds. She moaned softly as he massaged her wrists and ankles, but he was happy to see that the cuffs had held her comfortably and not left any marks on her skin. He took her into the bathroom to remove the plug.

She practically fell asleep on him in the shower, and later, his heart swelled with love when she snuggled against him as he climbed into the bed beside her. Finally, they were heading in a direction that suited them both. Tomorrow they'd talk about starting their family. He fell asleep with visions of his beautiful wife with her belly swollen with his baby.

* * * *

Michelle stretched, still not quite awake and snuggled against the warmth of her husband. She could still hear his words from last night and the mantra 'good girl' played in her head. She was a good girl. She'd always been a good girl and last night she'd proved it in a very naughty way.

But she hadn't been called a good girl since before her father left them so many years ago.

Michelle practically jack-knifed to a sitting position. A moment later she scrambled off the bed. Good girl? Shit. Had she done all those things with Keith because her daddy hadn't called her a good girl often enough? Cold ice ran through her veins and she shivered in disbelief as images of last night ran through her brain.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What had she done?

She wanted a shower. She'd never considered she might have a daddy fixation—she'd married a man two years her junior for fuck's sake—but the moment he'd taken control and given her a few positive comments she'd melted at his feet and let him do anything he wanted.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Baby?” a sleepy voice asked from the bed.

“D…don't,” she said, holding her hand in front of her as if to stop that word. Baby? Good girl? Geez, all she needed was Princess and she'd have the full set.

“Don't what?” he asked, coming awake quickly.

“Don't call me that!”

“Don’t call you baby?”

She nodded frantically. “And don't call me good girl.” She could feel panic starting to build within her. “And don't even think about calling me Princess.” She still held her hand up in a very visual order for him to stop.

“Michelle?” he asked, looking really confused. “What's wrong?”

“I…I…have to go…” she said as she turned to leave, but then turned back a moment later, “to my sister's place for a while. I'll…uhm…I'll call you later.”

He sat on the bed and watched her pack. She couldn't look at the devastation on his face so she didn't look at him at all. But he was there watching and she could feel it and she had to get away. She quickly threw clothes on, shoved some into a bag and whispered, “I'm sorry,” before she fled out the door.

* * * *

“How long has she been gone?” Ally asked.

Keith glanced at his friend but Greg just shrugged at his sub's behavior. “It's something we're working on,” he said. Ally rolled her eyes and Keith felt a small smile tug at his lips. Ally may be Greg's collared sub, dressed appropriately and sitting at her Master's feet, but she was too independent to be truly submissive.

It was something that Keith understood well. He didn't want a woman who was submissive by nature. He wanted a woman who was strong and independent, a true partner in every way. Submission was a far more precious gift when it came from a woman who possessed a strong personality, even more so when submission was given out of love.

Ally just glared at him until he answered the question.

“Three weeks,” he said quietly. A part of him wanted to go to her sister's house and drag his sub home. At the very least she deserved a spanking for not explaining her sudden withdrawal. It was one thing to freak out over what they'd done together, but it was quite another to run away.

“She's been at work,” Ally said shaking her head, “but she hasn't said a word.”

“I wouldn't doubt it,” Keith said. If she was planning on divorcing him she wouldn't risk losing her job.

“What happened?” Greg's very unsubmissive sub demanded. Greg leaned forward, hauled his sub over his lap and smacked her bottom once. She grouched and rubbed the offended skin as if it had hurt, but both Greg and Keith knew otherwise. Ally's eyes had already darkened with arousal. Hell, with that as a punishment Ally was never going to behave.

“Keith is a Dom. You will treat him with respect, baby girl. You have permission to speak but be polite.”

Ally went to roll her eyes again but caught Keith watching her and lowered her face instead. Keith had no doubt that Ally rolled her eyes where neither of them could see. Michelle would be the same type of challenge, if only she'd accept the things that truly made her happy. There was no doubt in his mind that she enjoyed their night together, he just had no clear understanding of what had freaked her out afterwards.

Unable to hold back the details any longer, Keith described everything that had happened the morning Michelle had left.

“She freaked out because you called her baby?” Ally squeaked and then realized her mistake and apologized with a very unapologetic “sorry”. A heartbeat later she added, “Sir”, so he let it go for now.

“I've been going over it in my head for three weeks. The only thing I can think of is that maybe it's related to her father. He left her mother when Michelle was about seven years old. They're probably endearments her father used before he left and I triggered some sort of memory or worry or something that made her feel like we were doing something wrong.”

“That's just ridiculous,” Ally dismissed and after a moment added, “Sir”. This time Greg was the one to roll his eyes.

“As naughty as she is, my sub does have a point,” Greg said very seriously. “Endearments like baby, baby girl, good girl, even Princess, aren't just part of the BDSM scene. A lot of vanilla people use them in and out of the bedroom as well.”

“I think you should go spank her ass,” the most un-submissive sub in the history of un-submissive subs chimed in. “Hell, you tie her down and I'll spank her,” she said very seriously. His cock surged to life as images of Ally spanking Michelle played through his mind. God, even Greg wore an interested look.

Keith rubbed his hands down his face to clear the erotic image from his head. Hell, if Michelle didn't come back to him he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to spank another sub again. Michelle wasn't just his wife, she was also the woman he loved and the one he'd dreamed of having a family with. He couldn't even imagine a future without her.

Chapter Five

Monday fucking morning again.

The hateful mantra played over and over in her head stealing her energy and leaving her feeling queasy.

Michelle dragged herself from the car, gathered the files she'd taken home as a distraction from her misery, and walked stiffly into the office. She hadn't had a decent night's sleep since she'd left Keith and it was starting to play havoc with her mind. If she didn't need this job so badly she would've stayed in bed.

“Coffee,” Ally said as she plunked a mug on her desk. Black liquid slurped over the sides and Michelle glanced up to find one very pissed off woman standing in front of her. Fabulous. Keith had finally told Greg and Ally that she'd left him and they'd obviously come down firmly on his side of the fence.

“It's none of your business,” she said tiredly.

“Actually it is,” Ally said with a smirk on her face. “If your Dom doesn't have someone to spank, my Dom is likely to let him tan my ass.”

“What?” Michelle asked incredulously. She didn't know where to start. Greg was a Dom? Like Keith? And they'd share Greg's sub—his wife—if Michelle divorced him? “Not going to happen,” she said, enunciating every word very clearly. “You stay away from my man.”

Ally just smirked happily and sat in the chair opposite Michelle's desk. Fucking wonderful.

“Okay,” Ally said amiably, “now that we have established that you still love your husband, why don't you explain why you're not tied to his bed right now?”

“It's complicated.”

“No, it's not,” Ally disagreed cheerfully. “It's actually very simple. You two shared some pretty intense experiences and the next morning you freaked out. Is it because he called you 'good girl'?”

“Obviously you know quite a lot about my sex life. What? Did Keith give you a blow by blow description?” Anger was starting to spike through her again. Thank God they were the only ones in the office this early. This was not the conversation she wanted the rest of her co-workers overhearing.

“No,” Ally said looking a little hurt, “he told us that you freaked afterwards. That you didn't want him to call you baby or good girl or Princess.” Michelle wanted to tell her to mind her own fucking business but then Ally added quietly, “He's worried about you. He thinks maybe you're still affected by the way your father left when you were a kid.”

Tears filmed Michelle's eyes as she realized her husband knew her probably better than she knew herself. Through a watery blur Michelle saw Ally grab a tissue for her and then one for herself. It felt so silly to be crying in the middle of the office, but the stress and worry combined with lack of sleep held her captive and she lost the ability to hold her grief inside.

A moment later slender arms wrapped around her and held her tight.

“Michelle,” Ally said kindly, “do you know what Greg calls me?” She didn't wait for Michelle to answer. “He calls me 'baby girl'. It makes me feel special and cared for, especially when I'm feeling vulnerable and needy after an intense session. It has nothing to do with my father. It's a term of endearment between me and my husband.”

“But what if I'm unconsciously hoping for my daddy's approval? God, the way I react to Keith calling me good girl…” She let the sentence trail off, unsure how to verbalize the fear crowding her heart.

“Lots of subs melt when their Dom calls them a good girl. It means we've pleased them, that we've given them what they wanted, what they need. Did it ever occur to you that maybe Keith needs to say the words as much as you need to hear them?”

“No,” she said quickly, shocked at her own selfishness. She hadn't even given a thought to what Keith might feel when he spoke to her that way.

“Look,” Ally said as she stepped back to the other side of Michelle's desk, “maybe you should give it a lot of thought. Talk to your sister or your mother or maybe even go see a counselor, but I truly believe that you are mixing up the two issues unnecessarily. Is there anything about Keith that reminds you of your father?”

“Hell, no.” Her only memories of that poor excuse for a man were him drunkenly demanding money and then staggering back to the pub. Hell, she didn't even want that man's approval. Leaving them when he did was probably the kindest thing he'd done for anyone in his entire selfish life.

And suddenly the fear disappeared and Michelle could finally see her insecurities for what they were—baseless worries, nothing more.

“Oh, Ally, I need to fix this. I've hurt Keith so badly and all he's ever done is love me.”

Ally nodded sagely but ruined it with a wicked smile.

“I have just the plan.”

* * * *

Keith opened the door to the house he'd once shared with Ally and wondered what the hell to do now. This really was his wife's house. Very little of it was to his taste, but he'd happily indulged his wife at the time. Now he just had a house where everything simply reminded him of the woman he loved but would likely never see again.

He scuffed his feet as he wandered into the bedroom to change. He hadn’t even slept in this room since his wife had left. The memories were just too painful.

He had his shirt half over his head when he sensed another person in the room. Dropping his arms quickly, he spun around and found his very naked wife kneeling beside the bed. Her knees wide, her hands behind her back, her eyes downcast.

“Michelle?” he asked, not at all certain she wasn't a figment of his imagination.

“Yes, Master,” she answered without raising her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” It was a stupid question. He wanted her here, exactly where she sat, wearing exactly what she wore.

“Waiting for you, Master.”

Even though it was a very un-Dom-like thing to do, he dropped to his knees in front of her and lifted her chin. Tears glistened in her eyes and concern for her stole his breath.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I didn't understand. But Ally helped me to see that I had it all wrong. I love you and I want to please you. I'm sorry that I hurt you so much.”

He pulled her into his arms, helped her to unlink her fingers and encouraged her to hug him back. After a few moments he sat on the floor and pulled his wife into the cradle of his lap. He held her there, just breathing her scent, so thrilled to have her home that he didn't even know where to begin.

But Michelle did.

Moving slowly, she dropped onto her hands and knees, and lowered her shoulders to the ground in a very submissive pose. The purple butt plug was very telling and quite large. He tapped the base and she moaned in pleasure.

“Oh, baby,” he said stripping his clothes off as fast as he could, “you are a very good girl.”

The End

www.rachelclark.webs.com

Other Books by Rachel Clark:

'Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas

HIDDEN PLEASURES

Copyright © Ashlynn Monroe 2011

I came home from work tired, and a bit moody. I’d had a terrible day. All the computers shut down and we lost a day’s worth of data entry. The company where I work shut down early so IT could solve whatever caused the malfunction. Irritated was an understatement. Today’s little technical meltdown may have cost me a five-hundred dollar bonus.

I parked my car in its usual spot and noticed my husband’s car in the driveway. His BMW was never home this early. It was a Tuesday, there was no reason he wasn’t at the firm. Maybe he became ill. I hurried into the house, concerned. I didn’t see him in the kitchen, so I ran up to the bedroom. He wasn’t there either. I checked all three bathrooms, even the garage and basement. Finally, I went into the den. It was dim, and all the shades pulled down securely. What I saw made my jaw drop. I was unable to breathe.

Tyrone sat at the computer, with his huge, hard, black cock in his hand. I watched him stroking himself to a rhythm he seemed to be enjoying very much. Biting my lip, I leaned against the door and felt my pussy tingle, wet and hot. Watching him pleasure himself seemed so naughty. He was naked and I wanted to touch him like he was touching himself.

Ty was muscular and tall; the hottest black man I’d ever seen the night he walked into my favorite club. I knew he’d be the love of my life.

He still had no idea I was in the room because his focus was so complete. I wondered what inspired his lust. When I quietly stepped farther into the room, I saw the computer screen. A man had a woman tied up on a leash. She was sucking his cock. I was shocked. I didn’t know Tyrone even liked porn, let alone this type of porn.

I knew it could’ve been worse, yet I felt confused. In two years of marriage, he’d always been a missionary kind of guy. I’d considered asking him about toys or maybe something a little different, but he never seemed to be interested in anything like that. We enjoyed a good sex life. At least that’s what I’d thought. We always shared satisfying orgasms.

I watched the woman subserviently pleasure the man. She really seemed to enjoy it. I bit my lip, wondering if I should let him know I was in the room. I wanted to know what he enjoyed about the video. I wanted to understand why he felt the need to sneak home on a Tuesday to watch porn. Was there something wrong with our marriage? Questions swirled around my brain as I watched my husband play with himself. I decided to let him know that I was home. Walking up right behind him, I spoke quietly. Lust made my voice sound strained. “Hi, honey.”

He immediately stopped, and flipped the monitor off. Looking extremely embarrassed, he blushed. I blushed too. Yet I didn’t want him to feel ashamed. I like sex very much. I wasn’t a prude. I might not be experienced—Tyrone had been my first—but I still knew I liked sex. I enjoyed more orgasms that the average woman. Tyrone knew how to make me come. I knelt down in front of him. He tried to cover his cock, but I stopped him, and flipped the monitor back on. He looked terrified. I felt confused, but not angry.

Ty didn’t speak. I could tell from his expression he wanted to explain, yet I didn’t want an excuse. Instead, I wanted to understand. His cock had started to become limp, so I gently stroked it, almost petting it. Noticing that it immediately grew back to life, I touched him with more confidence. Shyly, I smiled up at him.

When I spoke, I knew my voice sounded husky. “Ty, why is this enjoyable to you? I’m not mad at you, but I want to understand. I want you to be satisfied with what we have.”

He seemed very uncomfortable. I decided I’d prove that I still felt attracted to him, even after catching him in his erotic secret. I took his cock in my mouth and sucked on it. He grew even harder and I smiled around his girth. Ty groaned. I looked up at him, delighted to see the smoky, hungry look in his eyes. He seemed to like what I was doing, but I still wanted to know what appeal the video porn held for him.

I removed my mouth and noticed his disappointment. Sitting back on the carpet of his home office in the den, I spoke cautiously. “I want to see what makes you horny. I didn’t know you’d enjoyed these types of interests. What do you like about this, in particular?”

He flushed. I could see his cock was still hard. From the beads of sweat on his forehead and the expression on his face, I knew he was embarrassed, but turned on. My question turned him on.

“Jill, I don’t want to upset you. I know you’ve had a very sheltered upbringing. You’ve never been exposed to porn. I’m sorry; I didn’t want you to know.”

Alarm spiked through me. How often did he watch this stuff?

“Ty, I want to pleasure you. However you’d like. Please tell me what you want. I’ve been curious about things. I want to know what you like. Maybe I’d like it too.”

He looked intrigued. When he spoke, his voice was raw, almost choked. “Jill, do you really mean that, or are you just saying it because it’s what I want to hear?”

“I’ve thought about using toys. A few of the girls at work talked about them. I thought a few of the things they said sounded like something I might want to try. I’m willing to try something new.”

He groaned in response to my words. The sound made a hot trickle of desire wet my thin, silk panties. I could smell my own lust and wondered if Ty could smell it too.

Ty took his cock in hand and stroked himself again. My words must’ve turned him on as much as the video did.

“I enjoyed watching you stroke your cock. I think I’d like to see what you’re watching.”

Ty appeared more sexually excited than I’d ever seen him. He took me into his lap and his hard cock nudged my back. Then he pulled my blouse out of my skirt. His hands rubbed across my flat, pale stomach. Ty was a very large man. I always felt safe and petite in his arms. He sat behind me, but he could still see the screen. His voice sounded harsh and raspy with desire, as he educated me about his fantasies. My pussy literally ached for his touch. I felt deliciously kinky listening to his sexy voice as I watched the strangers on the computer screen. They did things I’d never, ever considered before. As I watched, I suddenly understood the potential for pleasure.

“Jill, before you and I were together, you do know that I had been with other women, right?”

I nodded. As much as I hated to think about him with other women, I knew he was older than I, and more worldly.

“Baby, I was with a woman who enjoyed having sex in untraditional ways. She enjoyed being tied up; it was some of the best sex I’ve ever had. I enjoyed the things she asked me to do, let me do.”

He stroked my cheek tenderly.

“Then I met you. I fell completely in love with you and I stopped seeing her because I was committed to you. The first time we made love, I realized I was your first. I loved you even more, and just couldn’t tell you about the things I imagined doing to you. You’re too innocent to have me do those things to you.”

“I’m not too pure to not want you to do that to me.” I pointed at the screen. A man had a woman’s hands cuffed behind her back as he spanked her with a paddle. Her ass looked rosy and tender but she moaned with pleasure. I wondered what it would feel like to have Ty’s large hand smacking my ass.

A soft moan escaped my lips.

He kissed the back of my neck just below my ear. When he spoke, I could literally hear the gratitude in his sexy voice.

“I just want you to promise that if I ask you to do something you’re not comfortable with, you’ll tell me, right away.”

I nodded, unable to speak, curious about what he’d say next. He pulled up another video, silently waiting for me to watch it. There was a woman bent over a bed. Her hands were tied behind her back and her legs were spread. She lay submissively on the mattress as a man took what looked like a ping-pong paddle, and smacked her ass. Her ass was red where the paddle made contact. She groaned with pleasure when he rubbed her clit with his fingers. He hit her again, and then finger-fucked her. My soft moans continued as he paddled her more before rubbing her clit again.

I’d never been more wet in my life. A languid moan tumbled from my lips as I imagined lying on our bed while Ty did those things to me. His hand moved from my stomach up to my bra, skillfully unhooking the front clasp, and removed it before he cupped my heavy breast. He pinched my nipple. My soft moan encouraged him to do it harder.

Ty always touched me tenderly. This was the first time he’d been at all rough with me. I loved it more than I’d ever imagined I could. It felt wonderful. I groaned, hoping he’d touch my other nipple soon. He’d honestly told me what he wanted. It was my turn now.

Huskily, I whispered, “Ty, I wish you’d touch both of my breasts. Touch me roughly, please, Ty. I’d like you to do exactly what that man is doing to that woman. I really do, Ty. I’ve never felt like this before. I feel almost ill, and I want it so much my pussy hurts. Make the hurt go away. Please, Ty.”

As if he were in pain, he groaned at my innocent words. Both of his hands snuck around me to play with my tits. Desperately, I relished his rough touch. I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back on his shoulder. A low groan escaped my lips. He kissed the sensitive flesh behind my ear and I shivered in delicious ecstasy. I could feel how much his hard cock wanted to be inside me as it strained against my back.

“Do you really mean it, honey? Do you really want me to do it?”

I watched the screen for a moment before whispering, “Oh, yes please, Ty; I want so much. I want to feel you control me. Is it strange, that I want it? I hope you don’t think so. I’m burning up. It hurts. Can you make it better?”

He swept me up in his arms and I gave a startled shriek. He laughed, but there was darkness to the sound that made me shiver. His arms held me close, keeping me in his control.

I snaked my arms around his neck and I whispered in his ear, “I’m yours to do with as you wish.”

Ty held me tighter. He shook with sexual tension. He wanted this as badly as I did. A masculine growl was his only response, but it was the best answer he could’ve given me.

He sat me on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t move.”

I obeyed, anxiously awaiting what would happen next.

While he was gone, I took my clothes off. We’d never had sex during the day before. Being naked in the bright room felt deliciously naughty, I wondered how I should sit. What was the right way? The video hadn’t shown the waiting part. I wanted my husband to see I wasn’t too innocent to fulfill his desires. My heart pounded with excitement and a little fear. Was I ready to do something so daring?

I loved my husband and I loved making love with my husband. What he wanted was something that I’d never considered until now. Shivering with anticipation, I realized I wanted this. I wanted Ty.

He returned in less than five minutes, holding a few household items. I’d seen it all many times, but never considered any of it sexual. He held a spool of ribbon, some clothespins, my extra clothesline, a dishtowel, and a tray of ice cubes. Feeling very confused by this assortment, I didn’t know what to say to him. When he noticed my expression, all he did was grin. I bit my lip, too afraid to show how naïve I was by asking. His grin grew wider. I realized that very soon I’d have first-hand knowledge how these common items could be sexy.

Ty knelt down in front of me, taking my face tenderly in his hands. “Jill, are you sure this is what you want? Are you ready for me to show you how much I’ve wanted to dominate you? If you aren’t ready, it doesn’t matter to me. I love you. I’m happy with you in our bed. If you say yes, there’s no going back.”

His expression and words caused me to shiver. I ran the pad of my thumb across his lips and whispered, “Tyrone, I’ve loved you since the first moment I looked at you. You’ve been gentle and understanding, but I’m not made of glass. I’m a woman, even if I’m younger than you are. I know I’d enjoy it if you just show me how. Please, teach me to be like the girl in the video. She really looked like she enjoyed what was happening; I’d like to enjoy it too. Please, Ty, I feel desperate to explore this thing. I’ve never been so excited, nervous, and just ready for you before.”

My words hung in the air between us. I saw something change in his eyes. I saw the secret need he’d hidden from me all these years. Longing and need shimmered in his dark eyes, as well as his expression.

He spoke quietly. “I’m going to tie you up. This is not some kind of game to me. I’m going to slowly teach you how to be submissive for me.”

A strange gladness welled up inside me. I wanted him to control me. I’d always been very submissive. Maybe I recognized the control he had to offer. I wondered if my submissive nature had been craving this all my life. Modern sensibilities aside, this moment was all about sex. I could care less how it would seem to anyone else. I liked the idea of him commanding me. I needed it until I couldn’t breathe anymore. Throwing my fears aside, I looked into his beautiful, cocoa brown eyes.

My voice was a wispy plea. “Ty, I want you to dominate me. I want you to touch me as if I’m not going to break. I want you to tie me up and put your cock into me until I scream.”

He didn’t speak. I suspected he couldn’t speak. Ty started my tutelage immediately. I shivered as he stood me up while binding me for our mutual pleasure. First, he cut several lengths of the ribbon, securely tying my hands behind my back. I was panting, unable to hide my excitement. I saw his tight smile as he then took the long, thick clothesline and began to prepare the bed. He cut the line in half, tying each length to a separate leg of the bed. He put the other items on the dresser.

When he spoke, his voice sounded strained, harsh. It made me shiver deliciously. “Jill, at this moment you are my student. I’ll expect you to speak only when I give you permission, and do everything I demand of you. You may answer me.”

My voice cracked. I spoke in barely a whisper. “Yes, please, Ty, please…”

In that moment I realized Ty was the most perfect mate I could’ve ever wanted. Something about his very controlled and controlling personality had drawn me to him. All this time I’d known I was missing something.

Ty firmly pushed me to my knees in front of him. His erect cock bobbed only a few inches from my mouth. I was delighted and eager to get started.

“Suck my dick.”

I happily obeyed.

With my hands tied, I couldn’t hold on to him, but I did my best to suck him without the leverage. The head of his beautiful cock pushed gently into my mouth. First, I suckled gingerly, then I drew hard, while slowly pushing forward. It filled my warm, moist mouth. I relished the hard, salty cock between my lips and took him all the way to the back of my throat, eager to please. Back and forth, I sucked him deeply. He’d always loved that I had almost no gag reflex. I heard him groan when I picked up the pace, and his harsh voice rasped with every breath.

“Stop it, Jill, but don’t move.” I stopped immediately, leaving his cock in my mouth. Following his instructions to the letter, I could tell he liked it because he gave a satisfied groan. Then he lightly rubbed my neck as he pulled his cock from my mouth.

He walked over to the dresser. I watched him pick up two clothespins before he returned.

“I’m going to put these on your nipples. You’ll leave them there.”

I didn’t speak or nod, only waited, trusting him to fulfill the needs I was just discovering I had. I bit my lip as he clipped the pins onto my nipples. I gasped in surprise, then moaned. It was wonderful! The weight of the pins tugged on my nipples. He let them drop, and they pinched me even harder.

I’d never realized how much I’d enjoy a little pain. I hurt in a wonderful way, making my pussy throb. I wanted him to rub my clit. I had to bit my lip to keep from making the request, remembering he was the one in control. My only role was to obey. Knowing that I couldn’t ask heightened the pleasure. I loved to obey. I’d never think of sex the same way again.

He stood me up and looked into my eyes, before demanding my next action.

“Jill, spread your legs as wide as you can.”

Immediately, I obeyed him. He never took his eyes from mine as he began to rub my clit. He whispered, “Mmm, so wet and hot.
You’re such a good girl, Jill.”

I shivered and felt the heat of a blush sting my cheeks, yet I didn’t look away from him. He rubbed me for a wonderful moment. What he was doing to my clit felt so good that I shook. Then he removed his hand from my pussy. The only thing that kept me from begging for more was my desire to please him. He stepped around the side of the bed and removed the pins that hung from my nipples. It hurt terribly as the blood rushed back in them. Unable to hide my pain, I cried out. Suddenly, I realized what I’d done and glanced up at Ty. He didn’t look pleased.

“Jill, you will have to learn to endure pain. I can give you pain or pleasure, but it is my choice.” Ty smacked my ass—hard. Involuntarily, my body jumped. My cheeks heated. I’d displeased him. The spanking didn’t hurt as much as the knowledge that I hadn’t pleased him. He smacked my ass again, and I relished the correction. I deserved more, but he stopped at two whacks.

Ty barked his next command. “Jill, I want you to lie on your stomach on the bed and put that sweet little ass as high in the air as you can for me.” My excitement built until I thought I was going to have an orgasm just knowing what he wanted to do to me.

Awkwardly, I complied. With my hands still tied behind my back, it wasn’t the easiest thing I’d ever been asked to do. Knowing he was watching my awkward struggle left me feeling strange. I wanted to cry because my desire to please him was so great. My nipples brushed over the bed covers and I moaned from the contact. When I’d positioned myself, he stood next to me. He began rubbing my clit, and then his fingers moved inside me, fucking me deliciously. I tried not to wiggle or moan, but it felt so good.

His voice was very loud. “If you want to moan, you may, but hold still!”

I let out a long, low moan, but I held as still as I could. Even as I wanted to match the rhythm of him fingers. What he was doing felt so perfect; I suddenly felt shocked by a sharp pain. He had slapped my ass again. I’d been doing everything I could to please him. Why was he spanking me again? I stopped moaning and let the shock wash over me. After the third sharp and wonderful smack, an enchanted feeling swept through me. He began to rub my clit with one hand while he smacked my ass just enough to sting a little with the other. I moaned and bit my lip. I didn’t want him to stop. Ty was fulfilling secret needs that I’d never even known that I had.

When he gave me the next command, I reacted quickly, now falling into the routine of obeying easy. I wanted to make him proud of me. I wanted him to know I’d learn everything he’d teach me.

“Jill, kneel on the bed and spread your legs as wide, and I want you to stick that wonderful ass as high in the air as you can.”

I did just as he asked. Unable to see what he was doing, I could only hear him moving around the room. My pussy literally dripped with desire. I knew I’d tell him later how grateful I was. For now, I just obeyed his commands; they were the focus of my entire universe. When he stood behind me again, he rubbed my clit. I groaned. This was more like it! I hated it when he stopped touching me.

I felt something cold and I gasped, realizing with clarity what the ice was for. God, was it ever sexy! At first, he just rubbed the cube down my spine and then made small circles over my ass checks. I shivered. It felt wonderful. Then the ice touched the warm spot that he’d spanked. I knew that no matter how hard he spanked me I’d want him to do it harder. Gasping, I felt the cube suddenly touch my anus, and then I moaned from the wonderful switch of hot to cold. He’d never touched my anus before. I wanted him to keep touching my ass. Soon, there wasn’t much left of the ice cube.

The next thing he did was shocking, but I’d never felt anything so wonderful. Ty worked the little sliver of ice into my anus. It quickly melted. I groaned as the water dribbled down my leg. I’d never considered my anus as something to use during sex, but I suddenly wanted more. The attention to my ass was naughty, yet oh, so deliciously wicked.

Ty must have known from my moan that I wanted more. He wetted his finger by fucking my pussy with it, then he began to massage my clit in the rhythm he knew I liked best. Ty gently worked his wet finger inside my anus. I flinched from the beautiful violation of the moment. I knew that very second that someday I’d ask him to fuck my ass. I couldn’t resist disobeying him for a moment as I leaned back, taking more of his finger inside me. He smacked my ass very hard, so I leaned back even farther. Praying he’d spank me again, I was surprised when he punished me in a different way. Another finger joined the first inside my anus. The virgin hole stretched to its capacity, and I whimpered as the pleasure became pain, but I stayed very still.

Ty stopped finger-fucking my ass for a moment. I felt my body adjusting, and a moan of pleasure escaped me. It felt good again, but he wasn’t done yet. His fingers rubbed the inside of my anus in a way that caused me to orgasm. Loudly, I cried out again and again, as waves of pleasure gripped me like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

Tears wet my cheeks at the intensity of my orgasm. I’d no idea my ass could make me come. I wanted to beg him to take it further. I cried because I was so happy! He was doing things to me that made me feel more alive than I’d ever felt in my life.

He barked at me, “Jill, if you want more pleasure, you must obey. I’ll stop if you don’t obey me! You may speak for a moment.”

Immediately, I stopped wiggling against the fingers loving my anus. My voice sounded choked as I begged, “Oh, Ty, thank you for what you’ve been doing. I’m enjoying it all. I never knew I’d feel like this. Please, don’t stop! Let me suck your cock to show you how sorry I am.”

I’d have kept begging but suddenly he spoke harshly to me. “I’ll tell you when you’ll suck my cock. You can show me how sorry you are by being my perfectly obedient woman! Don’t speak, don’t move, and don’t think until I’ve given you permission. I’ve much more to teach you in the future. Your first lesson is yet to continue.”

I lay as still and quiet as I could. I wanted him to teach me the lesson. I wanted it all. He chuckled and slapped my ass again. I moaned, ever so grateful. He then pulled his finger out of my anus and I missed the way it felt. I hoped his next lesson would teach me more about ass fucking. I waited patiently as he walked across the room. He returned and got on the bed in front of me. Afraid to disobey him, I lay still as he untied my hands. I was terrified that he was done, that the passion was over. I wanted more!

He pulled me up to sit on the edge of the bed. He twisted a towel and tied it around my eyes, making sure I couldn’t see. I felt a primal moment of panic, but I trusted his knowledge of how to pleasure me, so I didn’t protest. I saw nothing, but I heard his voice and obeyed his words.

“Jill, I want you to shut everything out except the pleasure of my hands on your body.”

Ty started rubbing my back and neck. It was wonderful. I sighed as he trailed his hands over my shoulders and down my collarbone, until he caressed and pinched my nipples. I moaned, enjoying every second of his attention.

Ty pushed me back on the bed. I felt him kneel down and take my foot and ankle in his hands. He kissed the arch of my foot and then sucked on my big toe for a moment. I gasped, surprised that the attention to my feet could feel so erotic. He proceeded to tie my foot tightly to the bed. I shivered, waiting for what would come next. He repeated the whole process on the other side. Cold air touched my heated pussy and I moaned, needing more stimulation. He stood up and just stood over me. I wondered if he was enjoying the sight of my pussy and my bondage.

He took a clothespin and clamped it onto my clit. It felt wonderful. I wanted to cry out so I bit my lip. He chuckled, clearly knowing I enjoyed what he was doing to me. I loved him more in that moment than ever before.

“Jill, I’m going to get on the bed and kneel over your face. I want you to lick my cock and gently suck on my balls.” I felt the bed dip, then he gave me a new command. “I want you to pinch your own nipples while you suck me.”

A whimper burst from my lips.

I could smell his body and I felt his warmth. I stuck my tongue out to test the distance. He was very close to me. I flicked my tongue over his cock. I felt all of his veins and his silky skin. He tasted exquisite. A drop of his pre-cum dribbled onto my tongue and I knew he was ready for my pussy. I played with my tits as I took his sack in my mouth. His balls were tight and I knew my first lesson would soon be over.

I was so ready for my orgasm that my breath had become short and sharp. I tasted him for a long while, enjoying him, until he pulled away and got off the bed. I was still touching my breasts, feeling his presence close, obviously watching me for a moment. Then he unclipped the pin from my clit. Pain and pleasure mixed as the blood rushed back. I felt him step up to the bed and his thumb began to massage my clit. Without thinking, because I felt so close, I gasped out one word. “Please.”

Ty lifted my legs up and smacked my ass repeatedly.

My intense orgasm started to pulse through my core when he continued to rub my very sensitive clit. Then he removed his hand, and the bed dipped with his weight. The head of his hard cock nudged my needy pussy. I cried out when he slammed into me with more force than he’d ever fucked me with before. I screamed as I came harder, the orgasm pounding through every nerve ending. I clenched around his cock and my arms wrapped around his neck. He pumped into me until my orgasm slowly subsided.

I barely heard him whisper my name as he came inside me.

I’d never felt so wonderfully complete before. I was going to sit up and remove the towel when he pushed me back. “Jill, I’ll tell you when we’re done!”

I shivered, feeling my desire return again.

I lay there for a moment, wondering when I’d be released. I hoped he’d give me another lesson later.

He was watching me—I felt the heat of his stare on my face. His hot semen dribbled down my pussy lips, between my ass cheeks, but I didn’t dare move. I wondered if he was surprised at my willingness.

He left the room. I lay still, unmoving, waiting. I knew he was testing me. I wanted to pass because I wanted lesson two. I heard him return, moving around in the room. I still didn’t move. After a few more minutes, he left again. When he returned, he suddenly pinched my nipples hard. Then he stood me up, holding onto my arm to help steady me. Ty smacked my ass four times and I moaned. Then I felt him untie my feet. I still had the makeshift blindfold over my eyes. He turned me around and leaned over, kissing the red handprint on my ass reverently.

He murmured against my ass, “Oh, Jill, you’re more than I could’ve ever hoped for. Oh, darling, thank you. I’ll enjoy teaching you more. I don’t want you to talk to me about today until lesson two. I want you to think about how you belong to me, how you want to please me, but I don’t want to speak of it until I tell you that it’s lesson two. We might not do this again for a day or a week, but when I think you’re completely ready to accept my dominance, I’ll teach you your next lesson.”

I shivered and could hardly wait. He chuckled as he gave my tits another couple of pinches, before he removed the blindfold. I blinked up at him, but still didn’t move or speak. I wanted to show him just how ready I was for lesson two.

He smiled and leaned down so that our lips were just a breath apart. He whispered, “Your lesson is done now, Jill. You passed lesson one.”

Freed from his magic spell of pleasurable dominance, I threw my arms around him and kissed him wildly. I whispered with passionate conviction, “I love you, Ty, thank you!”

It was hard not to talk about the life-altering and amazing experience that he’d given me. Ty was perfect. He was my perfect lover. Our true sexual selves had come out and they fit perfectly together. He dominated me and I loved it. I’d grown up a little that afternoon. I had to restrain myself from falling at his feet and weeping my thanks. I knew that I’d never be the same again. Ty taught me what kind of a girl I really am with lesson one.

I couldn’t wait to learn lesson two.

The End

www.ashlynnmonroe.webs.com

Other Books by Ashlynn Monroe:

Fallen Angels

Protector Mine

Indecent Encounters

MISTAKE

Copyright © London Saint James 2011

THIS WAS A MISTAKE.

A mistake I seem to make over and over, I pondered while I sat on the foot of Xavier’s bed, gazing at the pale ghost of my face caught in the reflection of the glass. What am I doing here? Just fifteen minutes ago I was sitting by the pool, sipping on a Long Island Iced Tea, listening to Rachel, Lakin, and Suzann blather on and on about their vacation plans. I had made an excuse, faked a headache, left everyone behind at the birthday BBQ for my father and came here to see him. Always him.

I got up quietly. I shouldn’t be here. Daddy would go ballistic if he knew about Xavier. He would especially lose it if he knew I met Xavier while in a leather club. I was groomed to be the perfect wife to the perfect man. This debutant should end up with a CEO of a Fortune 500 company or the son of one of my father’s lawyer friends, not a rough and tumble man with a questionable past. I should be with a man who wears Versace, not with a leather clad grease monkey, who uses his muscles and hands for a living. After all I had the perfect life, the perfect house, and the perfect friends. I grew up in the perfect family, attended the perfect college. I ate in fancy restaurants, drove an expensive car and wore the very best clothing. I was pampered, daddy’s princess, and I lived up to that title. I had everything, right? So why did I always run to him? He was like a drug, a bad habit I just could not break.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting behind me.

My heart stuttered momentarily. The deep rich texture of his voice alone made my spine tingle.

“Home,” I answered.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well,” I huffed, “I do think so.”

I moved to the door. He stopped me. Hard, unyielding, his big body blocked my escape. My gaze swept down his large frame. His muscles bulged, flexed. He wore nothing but his belted jeans. A metal belt buckle, mocking death in the shape of a razor blade, glinted at me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the neon of his shop sign, blazing the red motorcycle logo just outside his bedroom window, reminding me once again where I was.

“You want to be here,” he said.

“No. This was a mistake, I should not have come.”

I turned my back to him. Xavier chuckled, a low, sensual sound, before he fisted my long blond hair in his hand. I wanted to jerk away but he knew what would stop me. I felt the movement of his mouth, his tongue, weaving down the curve of my exposed neck. He had captured my cord of wanting between his teeth. I could feel him, all of him, like music floating, drifting over every inch of my body. Strong arms enveloped me. The chills upon my skin began to subside, replaced by a familiar burn.

“You want this,” he rasped in my ear.

“No.”

He tilted my head, kissed the side of my mouth, then turned me, locking me in place. I now faced him.

“Yes,” he growled, “you do.”

“But I…”

“Yes,” he said, his dark eyes flashing like flint. “You want this, you want me. You belong to me.”

His tongue was not tentative. He delved into my mouth, searching for my surrender. I had no will but to give it. My hands ran down the muscular slopes of his back where wings of black barbed wire were tattooed. His grip on my body tightened, securing me against him. Our moist flesh tangled, danced and then retrieved.

“Remove your dress.” I lifted my hand in obedience to find the zipper on the side, but hesitated. “Now,” he demanded.

I heard the grinding of the metal teeth as I slid the zipper down. I saw the blackness in Xavier’s eyes surge, glimmer and transfix me before falling into the secret of shadow. I pulled my right arm free and then my left, grasping the delicate material within my grip, tightening before I released my fingers and let go. The dress glided down my body in a flowery red billow of desire before pooling at my feet in surrender. A smile began at the corners of his luscious lips. I should run from him, force myself to leave this place but I reached for the front clasp of my lacy red bra and with the flick of my wrist, it too, gave way.

His large hand palmed my breast before releasing me, only to take one urgent pink tip into his warm mouth. He wrapped his tongue like a coil around the hardness of my nipple before bearing down with teeth, lips…

“Ah…yes,” I moaned. I threw my head back and arched into his mouth, wanting—needing more.

He murmured against my breasts, “Your panties.” Then he licked the other taut nipple before engulfing, sucking, retreating. “Remove them.”

I hooked my finger into the side of my panties, pulling the silk and lace over my taught thighs before releasing them. The last vestiges of my clothing were now at my feet. I moved back from him. He took in the lines of my body, absorbing every detail and holding on to every curve, line, cut and contour before he stalked forward, veracious.

“Leave on the heels and turn around,” he told me.

I turned. His hands found my hair. He began to pet me from crown to ends, once, twice, then he moved my hair over my right shoulder. He was freeing the canvas of my back to his touch, to his mouth. He kissed the back of my neck, and between my shoulder blades, then with a bite, he bore down on the inner curve of my neck before he soothed the bite with a kiss, adding the flick of his tongue in two slow passes. Rattle. Clink. Plink. I heard the metal on metal of his belt buckle, then the buttons being released from as he pulled himself free of his jeans. I turned my head to gaze over my shoulder but he stopped me.

“No,” he said.

I drifted in the sound of his voice. I felt him move. I smelled the musky scent of his skin, mixed with soap, as something crossed over my face, my eyes. I was in darkness. He had tied something over my eyes, blinding me.

“You are mine,” he growled.

The sound fell from my lips in soft lament, “Yes.”

His large palm overtook the inner portion of my thigh. A brush of air teased my flesh. Then his mouth caressed the dimple at the small of my back. I heard his intake and exhalation of breath. His fingers danced up my spine, his breath heated my skin like a warm bath of flames wanting to consume all of me. His hand shimmied up my left side, followed the contour of my ribs, down my belly, around my navel, then stopped. He moved once more then he slid his tongue down the seam of my ass. I yelped at the unexpected sensation.

“You may smell expensive, but you like slumming, don’t you, baby? You like it here on the other side of the tracks, with my mouth on your body. You like to be naughty. You like to be fucked. What would daddy think about his little princess getting fucked by the big, bad biker?”

“Stop,” I said.

He slapped my ass. “You want my tongue, my fingers…”

I muttered, “No.”

Xavier’s warm breath gusted across me, laughing, low and sexy. “Liar.” He slapped my ass once more. I bucked, then squeaked a sound of what I hoped was protest but more than likely, sounded like acceptance. “You can’t lie to me. You like to be told what to do in bed. You want to be reckless. You want my rough hands covering your soft curvaceous body. You want to feel my big, hard cock deep inside your tight, hot pussy.”

A weak “No” fell from my lips.

Yes, I said inside.

He murmured against the soft star-burst pucker of my anus, “Every quiver belongs to me.” Then he lashed my forbidden hole with his tongue. This caused my body to writhe. “Yes,” he groaned, “you like my tongue here.” He flicked his tongue against me once more. “Tell me you like it.”

“I-I,” I stuttered, unable to speak. He licked me again; my head fell back with a soft, “Mmm…”

“Oh yeah, baby, you like it.”

I wanted to squirm but he secured me in place. He plundered me with his mouth while his hands grabbed at my hips. He pulled me back, securing me, mastering me with his strength.

“Place your hands on the wall.”

“No,” I protested.

“Now! Do it now, Sienna.”

The deep menace in his voice shot straight to my already buzzing clit. I complied, raising my hands to the rough coolness of the rock wall. My back was stretched out before him for his pleasure.

“Give me what I crave,” he demanded. I pressed my chest closer to the wall and extended my ass out for his bidding. “Yes…” he murmured his approval in a low hiss.

My body was taught with anticipation, and I felt the heady moisture of arousal between my feminine folds. Liquid lust filled the room. I ached for release. Every nerve ending within my body charged, holding on for his touch between my legs, but it didn’t come. I dropped a hand to my face.

“No,” he said.

I placed a shaking hand back above my head, pressing my fingers against the cool, rocky wall. “Please,” I begged.

I heard his low, sexy laugh once more. Xavier’s warm mouth moved up the back of my thigh, then his tongue outlined the under skin of my right ass cheek. He was following the curve and shape of me before lashing my white globe with his tongue. I moaned.

He slapped my ass and I jumped from the wicked sting. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh resounded in the room. I should not allow this, or allow myself to feel this much pleasure, but the decadence danced across the entire surface of my body. He knew what I would not admit. He slapped my ass again and again. My cunt rippled in excitement.

“You will take what I give and know that every inch of your body is mine. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” leaked from my lips like drops of water. “Yes,” flowed from my soul with a yearning only he could fill.

His mouth glided to my other cheek, licking, kissing, lulling me into the warmth of his mouth while his fingers pressed into my rounded flesh, parting me.

“Mine,” he said in a hungry voice, flicking out his tongue and imparting debauchery unbound onto my tiny pucker. My cheeks wanted to clinch but he held me, parted me, and kept me at his mercy with the tip of his tongue. “Mmm…” he groaned.

His mouth covered me, covered my anus and then released me. For a moment I felt nothing then he dipped his warm tongue into the opening of my cunt. I arched my back at the sensation, moaning as he lapped at my juices, drinking me in. When he groaned a low, almost guttural growl, the vibration was like flashpoint against my throbbing clit. His tongue swirled around my clit in a dance of wickedness which took my breath. He was pressing me into his mouth for a pulling suck, elongating the burn. My flesh stretched then popped from his lips.

“Mine,” he echoed roughly.

I wanted to deny his words but I couldn’t. I wanted to come apart, shatter into a million droplets of moisture, splinter into glistening shards frozen in the moment, but he denied me. He pulled his mouth back. I felt a sharp scraping down my inner thigh, teeth perhaps? Then nothing for a moment until his hands wrapped around my wrists. The strength of his chest pressed against my shoulder blades. He pressed his lips into the hollow just below my ear and kissed before he took possession of my earlobe and bit. Another quaking shiver overtook my body but he absorbed it. He wanted to make me shiver to prove his dominance over my body, my will, and he knew exactly what to do to make each shiver his own.

“Give me your mouth, it is mine,” he demanded of me.

I did what he asked. I turned my head to offer my mouth to him, and he took it. I tasted him; tasted us blended in his wicked mouth. The flavor of sex, lust, decadence. I wanted to be lost within the sensation, within the taste, the warmth of him, the feeling of his strength cutting into my body. I wanted him to absorb me, take me away from all I knew.

His hand pressed, his long fingers moved. Xavier had slipped them in-between my female folds, owning my wet heat. He twirled my clit, burning hot and throbbing, between his index finger and his thumb. I was lost within the undulation of my body in reaction. His mouth took my mouth once more, while his hand took possession of my burning desire flaming between my legs. His erect cock pressed against my rounded ass cheeks and I wanted to liquefy. I wanted to open my flesh to him.

“Take all of me into your sweet ass,” he whispered.

He grasped my neck, placed his fingers like manacles around the front of my throat. His erection hard and wanting, pressed in, parting my flesh to his will as he dipped his cock into my wet heat, and lubricated himself. Then he slid back to my anus. I could feel the exquisite burn when he pressed into my dark universe. My body quaked at the first intimate stretching.

“Oh…God!”

He growled against the back of my neck. Fire raced through my veins. Xavier pushed forward. I arched back, allowing his massive head to stretch my tight opening. I shook. It was exquisite, this feeling of forbidden entrance, of dark penetration. He possessed, he took, he bit down upon my shoulder while pressing into my darkness, inching deeper, probing further into my ass.

“Take me,” he growled.

He plunged deep, sending my body into a delicious trauma. My inner muscles locked around his cock in rippling waves. I wanted him to stop yet I wanted him to continue. He thrust forward, harder, impossibly deeper. He grinded his hard cock into my body, into my wanting flesh. He pulled back, almost out, then he slammed back inside me. My body rocked forward. His fingers tightened around my neck then he moved his hand. Pulling out slowly, an inch at a time, he then plunged in once more. His balls slapped my lower lips. His fingers circled my clit.

“More?” Xavier asked, probably already knowing my answer.

“Yes.”

He rammed into my orifice and grinded one last time.

“Ah….” I cried out. My thighs quivered.

He gripped my hips before he pulled his shaft out of my body, leaving me. For a moment I ached. The feeling of bereavement radiated though my entire being as I felt my body kiss him goodbye. I heard him move behind me, opening a dresser drawer, then he came back. In the next moment something cool, glassy-smooth worked into my ass. It was smaller than his cock.

“Arch into it,” he said.

He was fucking my ass with something I hadn’t felt before.

“Fuck, I love watching this.”

He fucked me with his toy, all the while making low sounds of appreciation as I fucked it back.

“I’m fucking your gorgeous ass, fisting my cock and watching you writhe while I do it,” he told me. I moaned at the visual, wishing I could watch. “I knew you would like that,” he said. “On the floor, now.”

He pulled the toy from my ass then guided me away from the wall. I knelt down, feeling the knotted bumps of the rug beneath me. Something clasped around my wrists. He had placed my hands above my head. I heard the sound of his belt. It echoed as the metal of his belt buckle made itself known. I heard the snap of his belt, harsh and demanding. Reverberation shot through me as the second snap echoed out, making strands of my long hair whip around my neck from the backlash.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

Snap!

I bit my lip then swiped my tongue over the sting I caused. “Yes,” I answered with tremulous breath.

“Lie down, on your back, and spread your legs, Sienna.”

I did what he commanded.

“Spread your legs, wider,” he instructed with another quick snap of leather against leather, his belt enforcing the command with punctuation.

I spread for him. I knew the exact moment he saw my pussy—he cursed under his breath. I could feel and hear him moving around me, the distinct touch of leather around my wrists, and then the pressure of being secured to the wooden spindle on the foot of the bed. He pulled my body down, pulling my arms taught. I had no sight, no use of my arms. I was stretched out, naked, wearing four inch blood red heels, spread before him like a gift. I quaked with lust.

The room was silent except for the slight buzzing sound of the neon sign which hung just outside his bedroom window. Suddenly, his mouth pressed against my navel. I shivered when his long hair brushed across my body as it moved over me.

“Mine,” he said again. His words soaked into my flesh along with the warmth of his breath. “I want to hear you say the words,” he demanded.

I exhaled, “I’m yours,” on a shaky breath.

Xavier’s fingers pressed into the warmth and wetness of my open body with a long, smooth glide. “Who owns this pretty, pink pussy?”

“You.”

His fingers plunged to the hilt, then he curved them, hitting a spot which made my hips shoot up. He was pressing against my g-spot, rocking with sweet pressure. He pulled his fingers out then plunged them back inside me, only this time adding more, stretching more fingers inside my tight sheath. Three maybe? I moaned, needed…

As if he could read my thoughts, he asked, “More?”

“Yes, please, yes.”

He inserted a finger into my ass, sliding it in to the hilt. He rocked my body intimately on his hand, fingering each opening, and then his mouth discovered my engorged clit. He flicked it once, twice, three times before feasting upon me. He dined with carnivorous hunger. His hand rocked, his fingers fucked, his mouth sent me to the edge of my sanity and then he stopped. Xavier pulled away, causing me to gasp. He held still, no longer giving me what I needed.

“Please…” I begged.

His warm, sweet breath slithered over my lips. “Do you love me?”

I shouldn’t love him but…“Yes,” I breathed, unable to find any other answer.

He moved his fingers again, pressing them deep inside my warm, slick cunt.

“Fuck my fingers,” he told me.

I did as he ordered, grinding on his fingers, clinching my inner muscles as he fucked me back. In and out, in and out…and then he stopped. He placed his mouth against the throbbing pulse in my throat.

“Tell me. I want to hear the words, Sienna.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer. “I love you!”

He pulled his fingers out of my body, hoisted my hips up from the floor with animalistic hunger. “Do you want my cock? Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, oh yes…”

He pressed his massive girth inside my twitching opening. I gasped at the wicked entry. My fingers held tight to the spindle above my head. The leather of the belt pulled against my wrists. He thrust in and out, rocking my body and filling me entirely, stretching me with his penetrating thrusts.

“Tell me!” he demanded, fucking my body while twirling my pulsing clit with his fingers.

“I love you,” I moaned.

He thrust into my tight pussy over and over.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he groaned, “you are always so fucking hot and tight.”

“Don’t stop,” I cried.

He fucked me hard, pounding into my body. He was everywhere, consuming me. His mouth was at my mouth, taking me. One hand was at my clit, flicking me. His hot, hard cock was inside my body, fucking me, while the other hand squeezed my heaving breast. Then he trailed his fingers down and plunged inside my dark, forbidden channel. One finger deep, then two.

I wanted to explode from the pleasure spiking through my entire being. Our union was always like the perfect storm, pulling me in its grip.

“Oh my God!”

“That’s it, baby. I can feel you. Cum for me.”

My body shook, I panted and gasped for air. My pussy tightened around his hard cock. I was going to explode.

“Xavier, I’m going to cum…”

He fucked me even harder. I knew his hands would leave marks on my hips where he gripped me, but I didn’t care. I came apart, screaming his name. My body shook hard in orgasm, and my breath was knocked from me. He ground his pelvis against me one last time, before pulling out.

“Open your mouth,” he said, panting.

Still shaking from my orgasm, I opened my mouth and took his cock inside. I felt the weight of him upon my tongue, and enjoyed feeling him pressed against the back of my throat. I sucked him hard, taking him as deep as I could.

“Fuck, Sienna,” he mumbled, working himself down my throat.

One of his hands was in my hair, while the other palmed a breast. I felt his body tense, and tasted the first dribble of pre-cum. Then he cursed and his body stilled as he pulsed in my mouth. I tasted him, his essence, before I swallowed every last drop. His body fell forward, like a canopy hovering over me. His hands worked the belt, releasing my hands before removing the blindfold from my face. I blinked; adjusting my eyes to the light, then rolled my shoulders as I brought my arms down.

I gazed up from beneath my lashes to see him. His chiseled face was perfection. Sweat glistened on his hard-wired body, and his chocolate eyes still blazed.

He smiled. “Come on.” Then he hoisted me up, pulled off my heels, and carried me into his bathroom.

“I really should go,” I protested.

“You really should stay.”

I glanced out the window as he carried me past to see the day turning into evening. He set me down just inside the bathroom door and backed me against the wall, kissed me long, hard and deep. He handled me like a master: taking, giving, but commanding at the same time. His cock rose to the occasion once again. It pressed with a need for attention against my lower belly. Xavier feathered his fingers through my hair and pulled my head back, exposing my throat to him. His mouth made the circuit over my throat, down my neck and over my shoulder. Then he licked my skin from the tip of my shoulder to the lobe of my ear.

I glanced down to see his dark head move lower on my body. He sucked one hard nipple into his warm mouth. He nipped, pulled, stretched my nipple then flicked it with his tongue. I moaned at the stinging sensation, caught somewhere between pleasure and pain, while my fingers wound into his midnight hair. He sucked my breasts, pulled at my nipples with his teeth, lapped my stomach with his tongue, making my stomach muscles twitch. When he finally slid all the way down my body, he lifted my right leg to his left shoulder, then took me with his tongue in two long strokes. He licked me from opening to clit. I cupped his shoulders to steady myself. My fingers squeezed, nails marking him as I shook.

“I love to see your pussy spread for me,” he said, before flicking my hard clit then sucking hard.

When I began to shake, he stood up and took me right there, back pressed hard against the wall as he slammed his cock eight inches deep into me. I gasped in pleasure, even as my body scraped up the wall behind me.

“Make me cum,” I breathed as we pumped and pressed against each other.

“Damn, baby, you are so fucking hot.” Xavier took me into his arms, away from the wall, fucking me as he walked me to the counter. My legs were wrapped around his waist, my arms wrapped around his neck. Our bodies slapped, grinded, pumped and pushed, our breath harsh and labored.

“Oh fuck,” he grunted while his hands pressed hard into my lower back and ass.

He fucked me standing, then pulled me off his cock, whipped me around, and bent me over the countertop. He entered my cunt with unerring ease from behind.

“Look,” he demanded, staring at me through the mirror. “I want you to watch me fuck you, Sienna. I want you to watch yourself cum.”

I moaned as electricity ran through the entire span of my body, flowing like sparks up my spine, and shooting out from me in a burst of heat. “Mmm…” I worked my lip with my teeth while watching Xavier fuck me. He was like a gladiator of old, hard, chiseled, tattooed, and beyond sexy. His long black hair fell around his face to his shoulders. The mirror was angled enough to see his hard cock glisten from my juices when he pulled out then plunged back in. His muscles flexed as he worked me just right. He grabbed my hips, pulled me back and went at me with untamed abandon. It was pain. It was bliss. He pounded into my body so deep, stretching my pussy to the limits that I would never forget how he felt, never.

I arched, pushing back. He fucked, pushing forward. My pussy throbbed, my body vibrated. I lifted up on my tiptoes. Our breathing turned into one panting moan.

“Oh…Xavier, fuck me…”

“You like to be fucked hard, don’t you princess?”

“Yes…”

“Squeeze that tight little pussy around my cock. Come on, baby.”

I went over the edge, a mind-shattering climax while I watched him fuck me as I came. My body trembled from head to toe. A rosy blush of satisfaction started at my chest and moved up my throat until it reached my cheeks. My nipples were rock-hard pebbles. I grabbed onto the corners of the countertop and I held on, but Xavier was nowhere near finished with me.

“Reach back and spread your ass for me.”

I did what he ordered. He pulled his hard cock from my sopping, wet pussy and pressed the tip into my ass. I moaned from the pleasure/pain. He was big. He worked himself a little bit deeper and deeper until every glorious inch was inside my ass…then he pumped. My forehead rested on the cool countertop, my ass lifted to him in offering as he fucked me faster. One of his large hands steadied my hip while the other snuck up my body underneath. He squeezed a breast, kneading it while fucking my ass. All I could do was hold on and take it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said.

“I can’t. I can’t cum again.”

“You can. Do it.”

I spread my legs and worked my clit, rubbing it hard. He fucked me while watching the reflection of us in the mirror.

“That’s it, make yourself cum. Rub that little clit.”

I wasn’t sure if I could cum again, but I kept up the pressure, rubbing, twirling and pinching my burning hot clit with my wet fingers.

“Fuck, yes!” he groaned.

Xavier worked my ass hard. My body hummed with need. I was going to cum again. I felt that first wave wash over me, but when he inserted two fingers into my wet pussy while fucking my ass with his cock, I knew I was going to lose it.

“Cum,” he demanded.

I pressed back, arching, rubbing, feeling my body explode. I bore down, constricting around Xavier’s cock as I shook in climax. His face looked hard with concentration, his thrusts became even harder. He pulled his fingers from my cunt, raised them to my lips and I tasted myself, sucking his digits eagerly. He cursed, growled, and pulled his fingers from my pouting lips.

“Fuck me, but I love you,” he said in a low rasp. He held onto me with both hands now, gripping my hips. “Be mine, Sienna. I can give you what you need, what you crave. I want you, only you. We were made for each other, baby.”

I watched our reflections in the mirror, framed in a tribute to desire, lust, and temptation.  I stared at his sexy frown of concentration, and I knew the exact moment he came. His hands moved from my hips, up my back, and then his arms wrapped around me tight. His warm mouth kissed the back of my shoulder as the last sensations of our orgasms rocked us, then Xavier’s hand twined into my hair, fingers massaging the base of my neck.

He was the chaos I craved within my calm, white picket fence world. He was the excitement to my dull existence in upper class mediocrity. He was the forbidden fruit I consumed. He was my secret sin. He was everything I should not want. He was everything I should not desire. He was everything I should not love. He was…my best mistake.

“Yes, Xavier,” I said, “I’m yours, only yours.”

The End

.

www.londonsaintjames.com

BAD ROMANCE

Copyright © Melissa Hosack 2011

Chapter One

Ashe Davidson entered the log cabin recently passed down to her through her mother’s will. She hadn’t even known about the cabin until eight days ago.

On her deathbed, mother had pulled her close and whispered, “Burn the cabin to the ground and never go back there.” Not I love you or I’m proud of you. She’d mumbled some nonsense about a cabin, and then she’d died.

After the funeral, she’d debated coming here. Not knowing what she’d find made her nervous. She and her mother had been close. Finding out there had been secrets kept between them made Ashe nervous about what she’d discover.

Ashe tossed her car keys onto the counter with a sigh. She’d written off her mother’s last words as the ramblings of a dying woman until the reading of her will. Ashe had inherited property she’d never known existed, property miles away from civilization. The phantom cabin.

“What junk,” she complained, as she flicked on the lights to survey the kitchen. Her critique wasn’t entirely true. The surrounding forest was lush and beautiful, and the cabin had potential. The exterior was stunning oak, though the inside had seen better days. Upkeep had obviously not been a concern of her mother’s long before she’d even gotten sick. The grass on the lawn was nearly waist high, windows covered in filth, and the porch planks were splintering and peeling. The most damning feature to Ashe was the location. Even if it was in pristine condition, the cabin was too far from civilization to be of any benefit to her.

She preferred the hustle and bustle of the city to nature’s serenity. Bugs and dirt weren’t her thing, and there were plenty of both here to go around. The only reason she’d driven out here was to assess the cabin’s worth and get it on the market as soon as possible. Unfortunately, she’d probably spend more in repairs than what she could sell the damn thing for.

“Nice inheritance, mom,” she grumbled as her heeled pumps crunched along dirt left behind from years of neglect. “A busted up cabin you want me to burn to the ground. Fantastic.”

She briefly wondered why her mother had never mentioned this place. Had she spent time here as a child? Why keep the cabin a secret for so long?

A frown touched her lips as she noticed footprints tracking through the thin layer of dirt. They looked recent. Following the imprints, she found herself at the stove. It was old and appeared to be on its last leg, but atop one of the burners sat a sparkling, silver frying pan. It was obviously new, much newer than anything else she’d seen. Which meant…

“The bringer of death,” a deep voice said behind her. “I thought you’d never come.”

Ashe whipped around with a gasp. Instinctively, she brought the frying pan to her chest, gripping it tightly as if it might protect her.

In the doorway to the living room stood a man more intimidating than any she’d seen before. He was well over six foot and muscled, but it was his body language that caused a tremor to slide an icy path down her spine. His eyes were cold and unfeeling. He stared at her with a contempt that made her knees quiver with fear.

“Do you think you can kill me before I rip out your throat?” he growled.

She sucked in a sharp breath. Even if she knew how to respond to such a question, she was frozen in terror and unable to speak.

“I guess we’ll just have to find out,” he added.

Parts of the man’s body suddenly changed. His arms grew bulkier, thicker. Hands transformed into claws with deadly nails gleaming at the ends. Brown fur threaded through his skin.

Ashe trembled as his nose elongated into a snout, and when his lips curled back, displaying a deadly set of fangs, her heart pounded wildly.

An animalistic snarl resounded through the open space, and then he lunged, his unforgiving claws aimed for her throat, just as promised.

There wasn’t a doubt in Ashe’s mind that he would kill her. As he closed in on her, she stumbled backward until her legs hit the stove and there was nowhere else for her to go. Just before he hit his mark, she swung the frying pan with all of her might into the side of his skull. Not accustomed to violence, hitting him with the pan had been pure instinct. She felt almost guilty at the resounding, metallic echo that rang through the air.

A sharp yelp tumbled from his lips. His eyes rolled back almost comically, and he collapsed to the dirty kitchen floor.

Ashe let out a squeak of fear as she stared down at the man-beast. What was she supposed to do now?

Chapter Two

Ashe stood in the doorway of the cabin’s master bedroom staring at the man chained to the bed.

After knocking him unconscious, she’d realized she couldn’t call the police. They wouldn’t know what to do with a wolf man. She didn’t even know what to do with him. In the small shed out back, she’d found a set of chains, probably used for a tractor or some piece of equipment. Trying not to think too much on what she was doing, she’d chained him to the massive four poster bed, looping the heavy steel around the bedposts.

Keeping the dresser between them for safety, she now gnawed anxiously at a fingernail as she watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. At least this meant she hadn’t killed him, a small relief if one could be found.

The man had returned to his human form shortly after she tied him down. Unconscious, he looked so peaceful. He looked…gorgeous. Blond, spiked hair topped a tanned face and a strong jaw with a hint of stubble. She’d seen his eyes before he’d attacked. They were a brilliant green.

She returned her gaze to his thick, muscular chest. She admired the way it rose and fell, watching the fabric of his shirt stretch as it molded itself to his abdomen. All in all, he wasn’t a bad specimen of the male gender. Had she met him under different circumstances…

He groaned, startling her.

The sound made her think of sex, hot and deliciously wicked. Even though he’d just tried to kill her, Ashe couldn’t deny the fact that the tone of his voice was unbelievably sexy. Just a mere groan from him had her toes curling in pleasure. It was low and deep, the kind of groan that made women weak in the knees. Forcing such thoughts from her mind, she cleared her throat, trying to get his attention.

He groaned again and slowly opened his eyes. He turned his head to look at her and smiled when she instinctively gripped the dresser in fear.

Trying to appear braver than she was, Ashe took a step away from the dresser and toward him. “Who are you?” she demanded.

He rolled his eyes and turned his face away from her.

She decided to try another angle. “What do you want?”

He didn’t turn his face back to her, but he answered, “You, dead.”

Ashe sucked in a shocked breath at his admission. “Why? What could I possibly have done to warrant that?”

The man snorted and turned his face back to her, hatred plain in his eyes. “I think you know exactly why I’m here.”

“I don’t,” she argued. She stepped closer until her fingers curled around the footboard. “I have no clue what you could possibly have against me. You must have the wrong person.”

“I know exactly who I have,” he said coldly. “Ashe.”

The sound of her name on his lips sent a spike of fear through her. “How do you know my name?”

“The man who murdered my father left a message with his mutilated corpse: Death will come in the form of Ashe. She will be beautiful to you, even as she annihilates your people.”

Ashe’s eyes widened, and her fingers tightened on the footboard. “What?” Her chest burned as she struggled to breathe. “You must be mistaken.”

“I’m not mistaken,” he said darkly. “It’s hard to forget or misinterpret a message like that. It kind of sticks with a person. Your name matches your intentions. You plan to skin us alive and burn our bodies until there’s nothing left but ash, no evidence of us ever existing.”

“Oh, my God,” she breathed in horror. “Why would I want to skin someone? That’s insane!”

“Because our pelts sell for a pretty penny on the preternatural black market, but I’m sure your daddy taught you all about that.”

Ashe tensed, her knuckles white as she gripped the footboard. “If you think my father taught me anything, you’re mistaken. That man wants nothing to do with me. I haven’t seen him in almost eight years.” She snorted. “Besides, he’s an investment banker. He wouldn’t know how to skin a potato.” She glared at him. “Also, my name is Ashe because I was born with ash blond hair and grey eyes. My mother, the only parent in my life, named me that because of my appearance, not because I take pleasure in burning bodies.”

“I don’t believe you,” he spat.

“You don’t believe me,” she sighed, the weight of defeat heavy on her shoulders. “I’m taking it that means you still want to kill me?”

“It’s kill or be killed,” he replied, “and I’m not looking to die anytime soon.”

“Neither am I.”

Their gazes met and held.

Ashe found it impossible to breathe as she stared into his molten eyes. Time ticked by until she asked again, “Who are you?”

“My people call me Wrench, because I’ve been known to wrench women’s arms out of their sockets when they misbehave, such as you are now.”

Ashe didn’t even bother to comment on such an obvious threat. He was just trying to frighten her…wasn’t he? She shuddered, picturing the gruesome scene.

“Unchain me, Ashe,” he demanded. “You know you can’t keep me like this forever.”

“Unchain you?” she asked in disbelief. “Why? So you can kill me? I don’t think so.”

He opened his mouth to speak again when his cell phone rang.

They both froze, eyes locked.

Thinking quickly, Ashe asked, “Which pocket is your phone in?” If she answered it, perhaps she could get some information on her would-be murderer.

“Why don’t you come find out for yourself?” he taunted. “Do you trust your skills with the chains enough to risk it? If you get close and I can get free, I will wrap these chains around your neck and strangle you to death. I promise I won’t hesitate.”

Heart pounding, Ashe took a tentative step forward.

He lunged at her with a snarl. His hands reached out, and he pulled against the chains.

Startled, she gave a yelp but was relieved the chains held. “Looks like I’m safe for now,” she said smugly. She knew she shouldn’t goad the crazy murderer, but she was proud of this small victory.

Moving to his side, she bent and tried to locate where the ringing came from. “You’re really not going to tell me where it is?”

He ignored her.

With a nervous glance at him, she reached into a front pocket of his jeans. She riffled around, trying to ignore how intimate it was to be rooting around in his pants. When she came up empty, she moved on to the other pocket. Again, she found nothing.

Stepping back, Ashe stared at him for a moment, uncertain. If the phone wasn’t in his front pockets, that meant it was in one of the back ones, which were not as easily accessible.

“Do you dare get any closer?” he questioned, a confident smirk tugging at his lips.

Her eyes narrowed. “Do I really have a choice?” Cautiously, she slid a hand underneath him and felt the pocket closest to her. Nothing.

Their eyes met again, and Ashe took the plunge. She didn’t see any other choice. Climbing onto the edge of the bed, she leaned her upper body over his, trying to reach his pocket.

He rolled to block her path, turning his shoulder to her. When he did, his arm brushed against her breasts.

Ashe shivered with unease at the intimate contact, but refused to let herself react any more than that. “Fine. If you’re going to be difficult…” She swung one of her legs over his and straddled his hips. “Just give me the damn phone.” Bracing her right hand on his chest to keep him from twisting, she plunged her left hand into his back pocket.

A low, inhuman growl escaped him.

The sound was so threatening she almost backed off, but then her fingers closed around the phone, and she pulled it free. Sitting back, she quickly pushed the button to accept the call and put the phone to her ear.

“Jason?” the male voice on the other line asked. “Jason, is it done? Are you alright?”

Now she had a name. “Jason’s a little…tied up at the moment. He’ll have to call you back.” With that, she disconnected. Knowing his name made him seem more human and less frightening to her. “So you have a name,” she whispered, staring down at him with curiosity.

“My first name isn’t going to get you anywhere,” he growled, clearly annoyed.

“No,” she admitted, “but I may have found something more valuable than your phone.” Lowering herself over his barrel of a chest, she reached once again into his back pocket. She licked her lips in concentration as she searched, and only when his eyes lowered to her tongue did she realize their mouths were mere inches apart.

Not one sexual thought entered her mind until that moment. Green eyes returned to hers, and she felt her skin flush with the heat in his gaze. Despite the fact that he was trying to kill her, he was a very attractive man.

His gaze lowered from hers in what seemed to be embarrassment. He avoided looking her in the eye, his gaze instead traveling down her neck and lingering on the cleavage dangling in his face. His interest in her breasts was just as telling of his thoughts as when he looked at her lips.

Her breath caught in her throat at this unexpected reaction of sexual interest from him. She let her fingers close over his wallet and shifted back almost reluctantly. “Your wallet should give me something good to work with,” she commented.

His gaze flicked up to her face and he let out another growl as panic flashed in his eyes.

Ashe let a hint of a smile touch her lips. “So you do feel something besides anger. Good to know.” Shifting to settle herself more comfortably on top of him, she flicked the wallet open. “Okay. Let’s see what we have here…”

She slid his driver’s license from its slot. “Jason Engelland of Hazlehurst Lane.” She flashed him a triumphant smile and wiggled on top of him with an air of victory. “Born August 15, 1978.  A Leo. Those tend to be pompous and patronizing. I can definitely see that.” Her eyes shot to his chest, and she took a moment to admire his physique. “You’re thirty-two. I must say, you’re in excellent shape for your age.”

Thirty-two put him at four years her elder and deliciously tempting if he weren’t set on killing her. Hell, he was still tempting. A part of that was probably because she was starting to question whether he would truly hurt her. She knew men well enough to know their threats were often a defense mechanism.

His eyes narrowed.

“You’re smiling in your photo,” she observed casually. “It looks good on you.” She returned her attention to his wallet. “Two hundred dollars, a receipt for a Big Mac, a receipt for a Double Whopper meal, and a gift card to Wendy’s.” She peered critically down at him. “Once again, you’re in excellent shape for someone eating so much fast food.”

“I’ll eat you if I get loose,” he growled.

“Promises, promises,” she said nonchalantly. She gave a shout of surprise and yanked a card free of its slot. Whipping it to face him, she slid down until their noses were practically touching. “A discount card for GameStop,” she accused, “and your cell phone ringer is Lady Gaga. Everything I’m finding points to you being a completely normal guy…besides the werewolf thing. You have no weapons, no other indication that you make a habit of hurting people…besides your lame attempt to give yourself a nickname, which I don’t even believe is real. Hell, the fact that you let me get the better of you is a glaring sign that you’re full of bullshit.”

On his stony glare, she bit her lip before letting it curl into a grin. “In addition, the fact that you’re totally hot for me tells me you’re not as dangerous as you’d like me to believe.”

“Hot for you?” he snorted derisively.

Tossing his wallet to the floor, she braced her hands on either side of his head and let her lips hover just over his. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice the way you’ve been looking at me? A stone cold killer wouldn’t be nearly as distracted by my breasts as you are.”

She saw his eyes flick there before he corrected his gaze. But they slid to where her bunched-up skirt exposed her thighs instead. He seemed unable to tear his gaze from her unclothed skin, making him look just as guilty as when he’d been staring at her breasts.

After a long moment, Jason stared up at her, his expression one of frustration. “The only feeling I hold for you is contempt,” he said, trying to sound harsh. “Don’t fool yourself.”

She shifted on his lap, rubbing her silk panties against the rough fabric of his jeans. She studied his face, watching him struggle to remain emotionless. Instead of seducing him, she knew she should be handing him over to the police now that he was in human form. This man had shown up here for one reason, to see her dead.

Chapter Three

Despite their initial conflict, Ashe felt they had some serious chemistry. He wasn’t a killer. She knew that to the core of her soul. Living in the city, she’d come to recognize dangerous men, and he wasn’t one of them.

Admittedly, something did have him genuinely spooked. She blamed this for his seemingly uncharacteristic hostility. It was survival instinct. He was just targeting the wrong enemy, something she intended to prove.

“I think you feel lust,” she said in response to his comment. She lowered her lips that fraction of an inch and grazed them teasingly across his. “I also think you like being tied up. Strong men like you enjoy the opportunity to be helpless. It’s nice to let someone else make the decisions every once in a while.”

She kissed him then. Her lips pressed firmly to his, and though his mouth didn’t respond, she felt his cock surge to life beneath her. She gently nibbled his lower lip before whispering, “Admit it. There are things you’d rather be doing to me than strangling me with those chains.” She rotated her hips, feeling him grow even harder. “Wouldn’t you rather fuck me than kill me?”

This time when she kissed him, he responded. His mouth was hot and eager. His hands struggled with the chains, and he gave a frustrated growl.

Ashe sat back with a giggle. She stared down at him, feeling wicked. “I’ve never had a man tied down and subjected to my every whim before. I think I like it.”

“Given our separate allegiances, I don’t think this is a wise idea,” Jason warned, but she observed the way his eyes darkened with lust as she slid her hands under his shirt and raked her nails along his skin.

Pretending not to notice, she sat back with a disappointed frown. “If you don’t want to play…” She trailed off and slid her hands seductively down his body until she reached her own. She slipped her fingers under her skirt and touched her panties, sliding her fingertips across the silken fabric. “I guess I’ll just have to play by myself.” She rubbed very gently at the material, her eyes on Jason as he intently watched.

His pupils dilated with arousal, and his breath became sharp and shallow. His thoughts were definitely worlds away from bloodshed and death.

Relaxing at this realization, Ashe let her eyes flutter closed, and she sighed softly, all for his benefit. Though she couldn’t see him, she knew Jason’s eyes watched hungrily as she touched herself. She purposely rocked her hips against his as she moved, rubbing against his erection for added stimulation. When she caressed one of her fingers persistently against her clit, she moaned her pleasure for him.

His cock grew so hard that it had to be hurting him.

Feeling she’d tortured him enough, Ashe opened her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to play?” She lowered herself over him once again. “I could really have fun with a kinky partner who doesn’t mind a little bit of rough sex.” She bit his earlobe, receiving a hiss from him. “What do you say?” She moved her lips once again to his, grazing them together ever so gently.

“This is torture,” he informed her, reiterating her earlier thoughts.

“Whose form of torture do you prefer? Yours or mine?”

“Yours,” he growled. He lifted his head, closed that small distance, and captured her mouth with his. He arched his hips off the bed, rubbing against the thin fabric that kept her hidden. The impression of his cock made her pulse with need.

Rewarding him, Ashe ground her hips against the erection that threatened to burst through the zipper of his jeans.

Jason growled in her mouth, once again testing the strength of the chains.

Ashe wrenched her mouth away from his and sat back. “Hey now,” she chastised. “No trying to get loose.” Pressing a hand firmly to his chest, she slid down his body. She kissed his bared stomach where his shirt had ridden up. Her breasts brushed along the front of his jeans as she moved. She finally stilled when her head was level with the object of her desire, while her legs straddled his knees. “Let’s see what we have to work with here.”

With sure hands, she undid the button of his jeans and slid the zipper down. With one last, quick glance at his eager face, she reached into his boxers and pulled his erection free. “Mmm,” she mumbled in approval. “So thick, so hard.” She gave him a squeeze and giggled with amusement when he gasped. “You don’t mind if I take a taste, do you, Jason?” she asked angelically.

He lifted his head to peer down at her. “You don’t mean—” He shut up abruptly when she slid her tongue along the length of his cock. His head fell back against the pillow, and an animal groan resounded through the room.

Ashe slipped the head of his penis past her lips, teasing the underside with her tongue. Spurred on by his drawn out groan, she slid him as far into her mouth as she could, pumping the rest with her fist. As she stroked and teased his engorged flesh, her panties grew wet and she pulsed with unrequited need.

“Now tell me, Jason,” she said in a seductive voice, “isn’t this so much better than anything you’d planned?” To help influence his answer, she drew him into her mouth and flexed her throat muscles.

“Yes,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “You’re amazing. Just…don’t…stop.”

She sat back. “You forget who’s making the rules here.”

His head lifted to shoot her a glare. “You’re toying with me.”

“I am,” she admitted, running a fingernail up the length of his trembling cock, “and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Slowly, she caressed the head of his penis with her thumb. “I have to punish you for your initial intentions for me.”

His eyes locked onto hers. “If you aren’t fucking me within the next thirty seconds, I will find a way to break loose from here. Once I’m loose, I will show you the true meaning of rough sex. You won’t be able to walk right after I’m done with you.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” She’d dated men in the past that pretended to play the part, but she could see in Jason’s eyes that he would follow through on his threats. It sent a delightful shiver down her spine.

Shifting so she was positioned over his erection, Ashe gave him what he wanted. Sliding her panties out of the way, she lowered herself onto him, shuddering with pleasure as he stretched her, her body adjusting to accommodate his size. She didn’t give him what he wanted because she was afraid. She took him in because she couldn’t hold out any longer.

As she moved on top of him, she slid her hand between her thighs and stroked her clit. Whimpering with ecstasy, her body clenched around him, drawing groans from the man beneath her. With a predatory growl, she lowered her chest to his, kissing him hard as she rode him.

After a minute, he broke the kiss. He moved his mouth to her throat and pressed his lips to the creamy skin. Before she realized what he was doing, Jason opened his mouth wide and sunk his teeth into her neck.

A scream tore from her mouth. Instinctively, she slammed her fist into his nose to break away. Ashe scrambled off the bed in horror as blood trailed down her neck, soaking into the collar of her shirt. She watched, stunned as his fangs retreated back to human teeth. Fear washed over her when she realized there was only one explanation for what he’d done. “You’ve infected me,” she whispered in dismay.

Jason’s laugh was cruel and heartless. “Oh, I did much worse than infect you, and you know it. A person can only become infected if the biter is in full wolf form, which you’ve yet to even see me in. You’ve only witnessed a half transformation, the classic wolfman appearance. What happened is that I marked you. I’m sure daddy will never invite you home with open arms when he sees my mark on your neck. You’ll be ruined to him. It was the least I could do if I’m meant to die tonight.”

Ashe held her bleeding neck and gaped at him in disbelief. “You still don’t believe me?” she screamed. “Even after what we just did, you still don’t trust me?”

“You own this cabin,” he spat. “This used to be our land, and your conniving family robbed us of it. Every time you set foot in these woods, it’s an insult to us.”

“I had every intention of selling this shit hole! If you want it so badly, it’s yours! I’ll sell it to you for twenty thousand.”

Jason blinked at her in surprise. “Twenty thousand? It’s worth ten times that.”

“I just want rid of it. I want rid of you,” she screamed. She was insulted—worse—humiliated. Maybe it was crazy to feel hurt by a stranger’s judgment, but she’d honestly thought they’d had a connection.

She saw the flash of uncertainty, of guilt in his eyes. His guilt worried her. What had he done to wear that expression? She pulled her fingers away from her neck to stare at the blood. “What have you done to me?” she whimpered.

“I mated you,” Jason answered slowly, searching her face curiously.

“What does that mean?” she whispered, heart pounding with anxiety.

“You honestly don’t know?” When she shook her head, he let out a sigh. “Then I just fucked up big time.” His eyes widened as if the repercussions of his actions just hit home.

“What?” Alarm shrieked through her body and soul. “What did you do to me?”

“I marked you as my life mate,” he said, clearly stunned with himself.

She stared at him. “That’s worse than being infected?”

“To someone like you—” He corrected himself. “…who I thought you were, that’s worse than death. To be the life partner of the monsters you hunt…it’s unthinkable, a scar for life. Anyone in the supernatural community would know you are the partner of a werewolf. I heard of a fur trader who took her own life, because she knew she’d never be accepted by her people again once she’d been marked.”

“You were hoping I’d kill myself?” Ashe squeaked.

“I thought you were going to skin me alive,” Jason explained desperately. “I didn’t see any other way out.” He sighed in defeat. “I fucked up, though. If you don’t kill yourself…” His green eyes held hers. “That makes you my mate. For life. No going back.”

Ashe sucked in a sharp breath. They barely knew each other. They couldn’t be expected to make that kind of commitment.

“I like you,” Jason assured. “You’re sexy and crazy. You seem like you’d be a lot of fun, but…” He shrugged. “I’m not even remotely ready for what I just signed us up for.”

Ashe nodded and silently fingered her bleeding neck. She couldn’t think of anything to say. It was common sense that she agreed. She was in no way ready to dedicate her life and heart to this man.

“Come here,” he said gently.

Suspicion clawed at her. “Why?”

“My saliva has healing abilities. Let me at least stop the bleeding.” When she hesitated, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t bleed to death out of stubbornness.”

Ashe knew her injury was not as severe as that, but she nodded and returned to the edge of the bed. She sat next to his shoulder, fidgeting uncertainly.

Jason motioned to touch her and sighed when the chains restricted his movements. “Could you wipe the majority of the blood away?” he requested. “I need to see the wound.”

Removing her suit jacket, Ashe wiped up the blood on her neck then stared at him expectantly.

“You’re going to have to get closer than that,” he said with a crooked grin. He nodded toward his lap. “Climb back up here and lean over me. I promise not to bite.”

“Fine,” she breathed on a sigh. She dropped her bloody jacket to the floor. Then, without hesitation, she swung a leg over his waist and climbed onto his lap. “I suppose there’s not much point to being modest at this juncture.” She leaned down and rested her elbows on the mattress next to his head. “Heal away.”

Jason stretched his neck as best he could while being tied down and lapped gently at the injury he’d caused. “You’re sure taking all this in stride,” he said in between strokes of his tongue, sounding impressed.

“Do I have a choice?” she grumbled.

“I never thought anyone would know about my secret outside of my pack, about what I am. I thought I’d have to take this to the grave.”

“No. Apparently just mine,” Ashe huffed. Despite her best efforts, the sweeping motion of his tongue dissipated her anger. “You’re really good at that,” she said, before she could stop herself.

“You have no idea,” he said wickedly, his mouth hot against her throat. “Unchain me, and I’ll show you.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Everything considered, I’ll pass.”

He chuckled in amusement, but when their eyes met, his laughter died off. “You have no clue how badly I want to be able to touch you,” he whispered, his voice thick with longing.

Ashe stared at him for a minute, heart pounding. “There are more things to feel with than just your hands.” Once again taking a risk with him, she covered Jason’s mouth with hers. She kissed him softly, gently.

When he deepened the kiss, she made a soft noise in the back of her throat, purring into his mouth. “Why don’t I hate you?” she asked, when his mouth moved to trail kisses along her jaw.

“Probably the same reason I hesitated in the kitchen,” he stated. “I’m afraid to know why I couldn’t do it. It possibly meant the death of my pack, but still I hesitated.”

Ashe slid her legs further around him, delighted to feel him growing hard once again. “It doesn’t make sense for me to want you this much.” She slid up his shirt, running her fingertips along his muscular chest.

“Agreed.” Yet he got even harder as she squirmed on top of him.

“I want to finish what we started earlier.” She stood long enough to slide her panties down her legs. “That is, if you still do as well.”

When she got back into place, her naked flesh against his, Jason groaned. “I definitely do.”

“Good.” With that, she guided his cock inside her.

Jason groaned, his hips arching off the bed. “You feel like heaven.” He lifted his head and stared at her. “Kiss me. Please. I need to taste you.”

Ashe obliged. She pressed her lips to his as she ground her hips over him. She kissed him fiercely, and opened her heart to him as well.

He bucked beneath her, driving himself even deeper into her welcoming body. As their rhythm became faster and more intense, he tugged on the chains in frustration.

With a growl, his arms suddenly changed into their wolf form. Then with inhuman strength, he ripped the chains from the headboard, the steel links snapping like twigs.

Ashe gasped in alarm as he shed the chains and rolled her underneath him. Her moment of fear dwindled when he kissed her, though, proving his actions had been in passion, not violence.

Jason’s arms returned to their human form, and then he caressed her. His hands slid lovingly over her skin as he moved his hips, driving her down into the mattress.

He cupped a breast through her thin t-shirt, and Ashe arched up into his hand. She slid her legs up his, wrapping them around his hips. They writhed together, Ashe arching up to meet his every thrust and Jason pounding down into her warm depths. An orgasm rocked them both simultaneously.

Jason cried his pleasure into her shoulder.

Ashe was unable to make even the slightest sound. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades, and she clung to him desperately. She had never been so speechless in her entire life. Tears sprang unexpectedly to her eyes, and she fought to keep herself from deteriorating into an emotional puddle.

Jason Engelland had just rocked her to her very core. She knew it was some kind of supernatural connection, but he’d just completely realigned her priorities in life. There was no logical explanation for what he’d just done to her.

As they came down from their high, Jason continued kissing her. He started slow. Then his kisses became more firm and passionate. She lifted her hands to his face and stroked his jaw, returning his kiss with just as much hunger.

Finally, he wrenched his mouth from hers to stare down at her with complete alarm. “I think I’m in love with you,” he said gruffly.

Ashe bobbed her head in agreement, her wide eyes matching his. “Yeah.” She could read the fear in his expression. In love with his enemy. How fucked up was that?

Finally, he collapsed to the sheets next to her.

She was tense for a moment. Then she scooted toward him, letting her cheek rest on his massive chest. It didn’t matter that he’d come here to kill her or that he was a supernatural ‘monster’. Illogically, she loved him. She knew it had to do in part with the supernatural bond he’d fused between them by marking her as his life mate. That paranormal connection had rooted itself into her so deeply that she didn’t think she’d ever be able to break its bonds. Yet it wasn’t just the involuntary ties that made her yearn for him. She felt as if she’d glimpsed into his soul during their short time together, and she liked what she saw. He was protective of those he cared about and loyal. He was a good man.  Closing her eyes, she listened to the steady, comforting beat of his heart. With that sound enveloping her, she drifted to sleep.

Chapter Four

Ashe drifted awake to the sound of Jason’s voice. He sounded unhappy. In confusion, her eyes blinked open, and she watched his figure pace just outside the bedroom doorway.

“Things got…complicated,” he mumbled quietly as he stalked back into view. “Yes. I understand what’s at stake. You don’t need to remind me.” He sighed, the hand not holding the cell phone to his ear curling into a fist. “You know I’ll keep everyone safe. You just have to trust me.” After a moment’s pause, he snarled, “I’ll do what I have to. You don’t have to worry.” With that, he tossed the phone angrily against the wall where it shattered into pieces.

When he reentered the room, Ashe sat up. “Is everything alright?” Still half asleep, it didn’t register what he was doing as he picked up the discarded chains and began wrapping them around her wrists. It wasn’t until he tossed the chains over the canopy bar of the bed that fear finally began to register. “Jason?”

He avoided eye contact as he tightened the chains, forcing her arms above her head.

“Jason?” She hated the way her voice trembled, how vulnerable she sounded.

Moving behind her, Jason pulled her gently back against his body, hugging her tightly. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear. After a moment, he sucked in a shaky breath. “I have a responsibility though. People depend on me. There is a little girl’s life at stake.”

He pressed a kiss to her ear. “I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.” He pressed his cheek against her hair before pulling back. “Your last name matches his,” he said in a cold voice which startled her. “I went through your wallet. I saw. You’re his daughter.” With that, he pulled away and went to a duffel bag hidden in a shadowy corner.

Ashe’s fear had started off as a small ball in her stomach. Now it seemed to dissolve like a pill, becoming liquid. It spiked through her entire body as she watched him remove something long and black from the bag.

When he turned to face her, there was a belt in his hands. “I don’t want to do this,” he said regretfully.

“So don’t!” she cried, squirming and tugging at the chains holding her in place.

“Then give me something, anything,” Jason pleaded. “Tell me your father’s address. Tell me the grocery store he frequents. Hell, give me his dentist.”

Though she knew they wouldn’t come loose, Ashe continued yanking at the chains, hoping she’d somehow get lucky and manage to free herself. “I told you! I haven’t seen my father in years. I don’t know anything to tell!” She glared at him. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t give you a thing. My father might be a sleazy asshole, but he isn’t capable of skinning anyone. He isn’t the man you’re after. He gets woozy at the sight of blood. As much as I might despise him, I wouldn’t send you to kill the man.”

“That’s very loyal of you,” Jason said softly, “but that isn’t very useful to me.” He pulled back the belt and cracked her across the buttocks.

Ashe jerked at the sudden sting. It didn’t really hurt. He was at too awkward of an angle to do any real damage. What hurt more were her pride and feelings.

“Tell me where your father is,” he repeated.

“No.” She was ashamed when her voice wavered, even more ashamed when a tear escaped her left eye at the second snap of the belt to her backside.

“Tell me,” Jason said ominously. When she didn’t bother to answer this time, he walked around to face her. He faltered at her tears but took a deep breath to seemingly force his concern for her away. When his eyes met hers, he was composed. “There is a four year old girl whose life hangs in the balance, my best friend’s daughter. I can’t let her be made into someone’s winter gloves. Sam’s wife is pregnant again. He depends on me to keep Marcie from being made into a pair of designer boots. I care about you, Ashe, but I won’t trade their lives because of it. Give me something, or I will hurt you.”

“You have the wrong people!” she screamed. “Leave us alone.”

Jason’s face fell. “I don’t have the wrong people. Everything about you fits. Your name, first and last. The fact that you own this cabin. I knew you’d be here, Ashe. Even you must see the truth in that.”

When she remained silent, he sighed and moved back around her. This time, he climbed onto the bed to get a better angle.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pull the belt back. She tensed, but still the rough crack caught her off guard. She cried out in pain, jerking from the impact.

He hit her again, instigating another cry of pain.

A half sob escaped her, and she began tugging frantically at the chains.

When he pulled back a third time, he suddenly froze before he could inflict another blow. He watched her as she cried, and his harsh expression crumbled. The belt suddenly fell from his fingers to land harmlessly on the bed. “I can’t do this,” he said with agony.

He closed the distance between them and hugged her against his chest. “I’m not this guy,” he whispered into her ear. “I don’t hurt people. I’m not even sure if I’m capable of torturing a total stranger, someone I know who means me harm. I know I can’t torture you. I don’t have it in me.” He pressed his cheek against her hair. “You’re one of the people I need to be protecting. I won’t sacrifice you or my friends for the other. I’ll find a different way.”

As he held her in his arms, anxiety coming off him in waves, Ashe wept in relief. She’d known all along that he wasn’t the heartless man he’d pretended to be. He truly cared about her.

She trusted that someone was trying to hurt his people. She’d seen what he could do, and she fully believed there were people out there willing to exploit them. In the business world, she knew a few who wouldn’t even think twice about it. People could be cruel, but his enemy wasn’t her. To prove it, she would happily help him track down the real culprit who had them all so terrified, the person who’d murdered his father, and she would kill them herself.  “Jason?” she asked softly.

His body trembled at her gentle tone, causing her heart to break for him. “Yes?” his voice came cautiously.

“Make love to me.”

A sound close to a sob escaped him at her request. He lowered his face to her shoulder and tightened his arms around her from behind. After a few minutes, he pulled back and placed a kiss on her shoulder. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I want you.” She closed her eyes in anticipation, and when his hands stroked up her stomach, she shivered.

His hands continued upward until they reached her breasts, though his touch was still hesitant. He ran his thumbs across them, caressing her nipples through her thin shirt.

Ashe moaned and pushed her butt into his groin. “Fuck me,” she pleaded. “Now. Hard.”

Shedding any remaining reluctance, Jason slid her skirt up with hungry purpose.

There was a moment of fumbling in which she couldn’t see what he was doing, and then his cock was forcing its way between her thighs. She cried out in pleasure and would have collapsed if not for the chains holding her arms above her head as he rammed his entire length into her.

Jason’s hands gripped her hips tightly as he held her still for a moment, letting her appreciate his size and aching hardness. He forced his way in and out of her, the chains rattling with his vigor.

Ashe pushed against him, helping his movements as best she could. When one of his hands slid over her hip and between her legs, she cried out in ecstasy.

He stroked her clit while he pounded into her from behind, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. He grunted and groaned from his efforts, swiftly bringing her closer to the edge.

When the orgasm overtook her, Ashe screamed her pleasure. She felt him empty inside her as he reached his own fulfillment, his cock jerking from the explosive force.

She quivered, milking every last drop of sensation he gave. In that instant, Ashe realized she was ruined for all other men. No matter his faults, no matter how crazy it might seem, she loved Jason. No other man would fill her, heart and body, as he did.

She turned her head to him and instinctively he was there, kissing her over her shoulder. The kiss was tender, loving. “Jason, I…” She trailed off in confusion when his body suddenly tensed, his arms going stiff around her. “Jason?”

“There’s someone outside.”

“What?” she asked, straining to angle her body so she could see out the window. “How do you know?”

“My hearing’s better than most. Wait here.” He slid out of her and yanked his jeans back up. Hopping off the bed, he made his way over to the duffel bag lying in the corner.

She went to follow him when the chains held her in place, kept her captive. “Let me down from here,” she said anxiously. “I don’t want to be trapped if something happens and you need my help.”

She frowned when he ignored her request, instead aiming his concentration at his stupid duffle bag. When he stood back up with a gun in his hands, Ashe gave a horrified gasp. “You have a gun?” she cried. His torture scenario suddenly seemed a whole lot more terrifying now that she knew he did in fact have a weapon.

Jason shot her a sinister look as he strode to the bedroom door. “This is for the man who murdered my father.”

“Had you not changed your mind about torturing me, would the gun have been for me too?” she asked in horror. “Did you plan on using that on me?”

He shook his head. “You know I wouldn’t have hurt you. The only person I plan on shooting is the man hunting my pack.”

“You don’t even know if that’s who’s out there!” she cried.

“I do,” he said with conviction. “I knew he’d come for me tonight. I knew you’d be involved. I always assumed you’d be a co-conspirator. I never thought that you’d be just bait.”

“Jason, this is crazy!” she screamed with panic. “There is no one—”

Her words broke off as the front door of the cabin squeaked open. “Ashe?” her father’s unmistakable voice called out. “Ashe, honey, it’s your father. Why don’t you come on out and introduce me to your friend?”

“It’s him,” Jason growled, his expression darkening.

When he took a menacing step toward the door, Ashe whispered fiercely, “Don’t you dare! He’s my father!” She fought urgently against the chains holding her immobile. “Don’t do this! Don’t leave me chained here while you run out to shoot my father.”

Jason spun back around to face her, panic in his expression. “You’re right.” He rushed to her side and frantically began undoing the chains.

She struggled against him, wrenching away in fear.

“Ashe, don’t,” he begged. “You know I would never hurt you.”

“Then why do you have a gun?” she spat, on the edge of hysteria. “Why would you tie me up with the intention to torture me?”

“I wasn’t going to really hurt you. I only wanted to scare you.”

“Well, it worked!” she shrieked.

“Listen to me, Ashe,” he said frantically, ignoring her comment. “You can’t trust him. If he sees my mark on your neck, he will kill you.” Jason pointed to the sliding door in the bedroom that opened up to a deck surrounded by woods. “Cover your neck, hop the porch, and run.”

Ashe barely listened to him. As soon as her hands were free, she gripped his shoulders, took aim, and drove her knee into his groin. When he sunk to the floor, she ripped the gun from his hand and ran.

Her father’s voice called out from somewhere in the house, but she didn’t know who to trust anymore. She followed Jason’s advice and ran for the porch. Once there, her heart leapt into her throat. Darkness surrounded her, and it was at least a ten-foot drop to the ground below.

Her breathing shallow, she climbed over the railing and forced herself to jump. She had a moment to be thankful there wasn’t cement beneath the porch. Landing on soft grass, she then ran with every bit of speed she possessed. She’d barely reached the tree line when she heard heavy footfalls behind her.

“Ashe!” Jason’s voice hollered into the twilight.

With a whimper, she cradled the gun, doubling her speed. She wanted to yell out to tell him to leave her alone, but she knew that would only give away her exact location, though the footfalls behind her coming with supernatural speed were evidence enough that he’d found her.

“Ashe, stop!” he hollered, anger lacing his tone.

Off in the distance she heard her father yelling her name as well. Terror had her pushing her body to the limits of its capability.

Jason wasn’t human though. He caught her quickly, and when he grabbed her arm, Ashe lost her balance. She fell, dragging him down with her into the ferns and brush.

He fell on top of her with a grunt of surprise. It took him a moment to find his voice. “Ashe, stop. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m trying to protect you!”

She wasn’t listening to his justifications. She screamed hoarsely in fear, twisting against him in an attempt to break free of his hold. “Let me go!”

As he struggled to restrain her and she fought to get away, the gun found its way between them. “Please,” she begged tearfully. “Don’t—”

Her words were drowned out by his desperate holler. “Ashe, don’t. I love you! Please, believe me.”

A shot cracked through the air.

Ashe screamed in horror before realizing she was unharmed and that she hadn’t pulled the trigger of the gun clenched against her chest.

Jason’s breath drew sharp with agony, and he rolled off her.

Ashe stared up at the inky sky, eyes wide, to find her father standing over them.

“Good job, honey,” he praised, crouching down in front of Jason. “I think there’s potential in you yet.”

“Potential?” she asked on a shaky breath.

“As a tracker,” he specified. As Jason writhed and groaned in agony, her father gave him a kick to the ribs. “These animals are no smarter than any other. They’re driven by their primal instincts, food and sex. I figured you’d make a nice distraction to lure him in with.”

“A distraction?” she breathed in horror. “You used me.”

“Think of it as a tryout,” Benjamin Davidson said with a chuckle.

Through the agony, rage filled Jason’s eyes. “I had my way with your daughter. I did things to her that would shame any father. I fucked her raw.”

“I’m sure you did,” Benjamin agreed, digging into an inner pocket of his jacket. “That’s what she was there for. While you got your rocks off, I was busy weaving this whole trap. I needed time to slash the tires on your truck, set a few bear traps in the woods out here to slow you down, and have my vehicle open and ready to transport you.” His hand reappeared holding a thin tube with a needle glistening at the tip.

“What is that?” Ashe whispered, climbing to a sitting position to stare at the shimmering fluid inside the tube.

“Liquid silver,” her father explained. “Once injected into their blood stream, it forces them into animal form. We’ll sedate it and take it to a friend of mine who does the dirty work.” He winked and elbowed her. “As a reward for your first assignment, how would you like a new pair of boots?” He glanced down at Jason. “I believe in a nice brown and cream color.”

Ashe’s whole world came crumbling down around her as she watched her father taunt Jason. She’d been wrong from the very beginning. Apparently, her father was capable of such horrors. He might not be able to handle the ‘dirty work’ on his weak stomach, but he seemed more than willing to pay someone else to do it.

“After that,” Benjamin jeered, “we can go after the rest of them. There’s a small one in their group with the shiniest red fur. That’ll fetch me quite a pay day.”

“She’s four,” Ashe whispered in revulsion.

“Honey, they’re animals, just like any other. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly feeling sorry for that mink coat you have in your closet too.”

Ashe’s stomach turned, and she silently vowed to burn that coat the first chance she got. She shifted, and the weight of the gun in her hands drew her eyes downward. “I love you,” she whispered.

Benjamin glanced in her direction in puzzlement, the needle poised dangerously above Jason’s spine. “What was that, dear?”

“I love you,” she repeated, voice strong and clear. “I should have listened and followed you from the very beginning.”

“That’s nice to hear. My girl—”

“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to him. Also, I’m not your girl.” She brushed her hair away from her neck to reveal the mark left by Jason’s teeth. “I’m his.”

Benjamin’s eyes widened with disbelief as he stared at the marking on her throat. “Impossible…” His eyes lowered to Jason before whipping back to Ashe. “You let it bite you?” His lip curled in disgust. “You’re useless to me, a ruined piece of filth.”

She sighed, disappointed that she shared a genetic link with this heartless man. She raised the gun, aiming at his forehead. “Good-bye, dad.” Then she pulled the trigger.

Chapter Five

Six months later…

Ashe stared up at the cabin where her life had changed so many months ago. Restored, it looked gorgeous. She didn’t know how she could have ever thought the city held a candle to this place. It was perfect, and she had no intention of ever living anywhere else.

Did mother know what lurked here? Did telling her to burn the cabin down mean she knew of Jason and his kind, and wanted to save them? Maybe she’d never know, but either way, her mother’s will changed her life forever, and she was thankful.

“Out of the way!” a voice called from behind her.

Ashe stepped to the side as Jason’s best friend, Sam walked by with her antique chair balanced in his arms. “Sorry!” she called with a laugh. “I was just admiring.”

Sam grumbled something teasingly as he disappeared into the house.

“You should be admiring me,” Jason’s voice called from inside the moving van behind her.

She turned as he hopped out to join her and took a moment to do just that. She fully admired him…and he was all hers.

Shirtless, with a pair of khaki shorts loose around his hips, and his shirt tucked into a back pocket, he looked sexy as hell. A bead of sweat ran down the center of his chest, his light dusting of blond hair damp from exertion.

She bit her lip as she watched his stomach muscles, admired the small patch of blond hair that led down into his pants. “Oh, I’m definitely admiring you.”

“Good.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug.

Leaning her head against his shoulder, she smiled. The past six months had been a fairy tale. She loved him more and more every day. She tilted her head to look at the scar on his shoulder from the bullet meant to take his life. She traced it with her fingertips, her brow furrowing in concern.

“Hey,” he soothed, “don’t worry about that. I’m fine.” He leaned in and kissed her firmly. “I promised you that night I wouldn’t die on you, that I would never leave you, ever. I intend to keep that promise.”

Her worry evaporating, she stared flirtatiously up at him. “You also promised never to tie me up again or do anything that could even slightly be considered manhandling. I think you’ve broken that promise on quite a few occasions.”

His eyes darkened with lust. “The nights when you’re in a kinky mood, hand me your pink, fuzzy handcuffs, and then beg me to do very naughty things to you isn’t what I meant, and you know it.” He leaned down and pressed a sensual kiss to the scar at her throat. “You never have to worry about me frightening you like I did that night. I will never do another thing that doesn’t involve making you happy. What you need to worry about is how we’re going to get rid of Sam so we can have crazy sex in the shower.”

Ashe mumbled against his lips as he kissed her again, her mind filled with images of him pressing her up against the shower wall as he made love to her. “We can always tell him Marcie went into labor,” she suggested.

“Wicked woman,” Jason growled, slipping his hands into her back pockets and pulling her closer.

“I’m not lying to Sam so we can have sex,” she giggled, turning her cheek to his playful, slobbery kisses.

At that moment, Sam appeared at her elbow. “You don’t have to,” he informed her. “My daughter lodged a marble in her nose, so now I have to go pry it out.”

Jason’s eyebrows rose. “She what?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Kid won’t stop shoving stuff where it doesn’t belong. She got a Barbie shoe stuck in her ear last week.” He waved to them as he headed to the car. “I’ll help you guys get the rest of the stuff from Jason’s old apartment tomorrow morning.”

As he was ducking into his car, he stood back up. “Seeing as you two are shacking up and getting serious, I suppose now is a good time to apologize to Ashe. I’m sorry for requesting that Jason kill you six months ago.”

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. “I love you too, Sam.”

He smiled and ducked into his car. As the engine turned over, he rolled his window down and leaned out. “By the way, you two are gross. Get a room,” he teased.

When he pulled away with a last wave, Jason raised an eyebrow at her. “He might not have had a bad suggestion with the whole ‘get a room’ thing.”

“Bathroom?” she asked.

“Shower,” he replied, with a crooked grin. “I just installed one of those vibrating shower heads. I can think of a few inventive ways I’d like to use it.”

With a shared, smoldering look, they raced into their new home, toward their future.

~ The End ~

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Other Books by Melissa Hosack:

Indecent Encounters

TAKEN FOR PLEASURE

Copyright © Angelina Rain 2011

Duncan Morrison looked at the photograph of his gorgeous, soon-to-be ex-wife and vowed to destroy her.

No, he could never go through with that and he knew it, but the rage still burned inside him. Somehow, he knew she was responsible for all of his problems.

“You do understand, don’t you?” Nicole Palmenson asked, her smooth, velvety voice almost purring into the phone. “I just don’t see us working out.”

What Duncan didn’t see was why Nicole had to believe every little lie Alyssa Cox told everyone. Couldn’t they see his ex was crazy? She was certifiable! Surely his first date since the separation would know better than to believe the little twit.

“Is this about Alyssa?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer.

He heard a pause on the other end of the line. Duncan opened the drawer on his bedside table and put the photograph away. It pained him to look at her, after all the pain and misery she’d caused him by leaving. Yet, he couldn’t force himself to hate her.

“It’s not about her,” Nicole finally said, although Duncan heard the anxiety in her voice. He imagined her thinking of the right words to say, the right lie to tell. He made his way into the living room and pulled down the blinds, taking one last look at the setting sun over the horizon of the Colorado Mountains. He used to love sitting out on the veranda to watch the last rays of light in the sky, sitting with Alyssa at his side. He loved the golden rays turn into flaming orange, making the snowy peaks of the mountains look like they were glowing. Now, he hated it. Hated the reminder of her. Duncan recalled seeing the wonder in her eyes as she admired nature’s beauty.

“Then what is it?” His patience grew thin as he paced back and forth in the living room.

“It’s your reputation. You’re the bad boy, I’m the good girl. It will never work.”

He hadn’t had a bad boy reputation since his years as a rambunctious teenager. Besides, after she left him, Alyssa stuck him with a new reputation. He wasn’t a bad boy according to Alyssa. No, he was harmless. Safe. Impotent. “Or did Alyssa tell you I have a two inch dick and might as well be a woman, because I’m useless in the bedroom?” It pained him to say it, and more rage boiled inside him. Maybe someone should teach the golden haired beauty a lesson about honesty! Maybe that someone should be him…

All he heard was soft breathing on the other end.

“Are you that stupid to believe every lie you’re told? You’ve seen my dick; you know how big it is.”

Duncan met Nicole when he taught children to ride horses. The lean brunette would always bring her little niece. Even when the girl cried and complained that she no longer wanted to ride a horse, Nicole stayed persistent. He remembered Alyssa’s dislike of the woman, and her accusations that Nicole wanted to steal what was rightfully hers. He always thought Alyssa was crazy for being so jealous of Nicole. He loved his wife. Nicole was just a client whose niece was learning to ride a horse.

Everything was fine, until one evening when he was brushing one of the horses in the stable. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around. Nicole stood before him absolutely naked. She hadn’t said anything, just thrown herself at him and forced an unwanted kiss. He tried to push her away, at the same time not wanting to hurt her, but only succeeded long enough for her to drop to her knees with her fingers on the zipper of his jeans. He had told her to stop, but she’d yanked down his pants and pulled his half-erect dick out. Although he’d tried to force his body to reject the arousal, Nicole wasn’t deterred, and wrapped her lips around him. He’d pushed her off and warned her to never return to the stables and the classes he offered.

All the while Alyssa’s insecurities and warnings flashed through his mind, and he knew he couldn’t tell her what happened. The secret was killing him, and he wondered if that was what ruined his marriage. Did she sense his shameful secret? Was that why less than a month later she’d packed her bags and filed for divorce?

“It’s not that,” Nicole said, snapping him back to the present. “You’ve been a stud for as long as I remember. I know better than to believe Alyssa.”

“Then what is it?” He nearly shouted into the phone, but ran a shaky hand through his hair instead. He was beyond frustrated. His gaze raked over his small log cabin that used to be his marital home, but now was just a house he lived in. Alyssa used to be his home, his heart. That was why after she left, he stayed single and tried to win her back. For a month he called her constantly, trying to convince her to come home. It was a wasted effort, and a little over a month later, he eventually gave up. Nicole, however, was persistent with trying to get Duncan inside her panties. He managed to bump into her at work, while grocery shopping, at the bar when he was hanging with the boys, and even at his mother’s house during her weekly, Sunday night family dinner. Duncan finally agreed to a night with her. So why did she change her mind as soon as he gave in, especially on the night when said date was supposed to happen?

“She was at the women’s clinic yesterday. I saw her coming out of it while walking Dixie.”

He could almost picture it, his vixen ex-wife and Nicole bumping into each other while she walked her Pomeranian. Duncan didn’t know what Alyssa did or said, but whatever it was it had to be nasty.

“Alyssa was crying when she walked out.”

Liar’s tears, of course. He’d never seen her cry in public. Alyssa’s law training taught her to keep emotions at bay.

“She said she was positive for Chlamydia.”

That stalled him. He always took care of himself. Even in his young days when he screwed everything that moved, he still made sure the woman was clean, and he always used a rubber. Only after he and Alyssa married did he quit using them.

“She said it was you who got her infected. I don’t want whatever you have. I don’t want you.” He heard a click and silence on the other end.

Might as well have infected her, he thought.

The only reason he asked Nicole on a date was because of her persistence. He didn’t really want to go out with her. Duncan threw his cell phone onto the couch. His discussion with Nicole was over, as well as the relationship, or whatever they had between them. He knew it wasn’t going to be a long lasting one anyway. She was the first woman he even looked at since the divorce papers were filed. She was just a rebound. Besides, he didn’t care for her. All he saw when he looked at her was cheap and easy sex. Sex that would probably make him think about Alyssa.

Nicole looked like the kind of woman who would cry at every possible pain to her body, unlike Alyssa, who enjoyed the pain. Nicole would probably only want missionary, unlike Alyssa, who loved to be under his control in whatever position he chose.

While heading to the bedroom he thought about what Nicole just told him. If he knew Alyssa, and he did know her well, he knew she didn’t have Chlamydia. She was too careful, too clean, and yet so dirty…

His mind traveled to their nights together. Their fun nights of passionate love making. He remembered the first time when Alyssa told him she wanted to be his personal sex slave. At first, he didn’t understand how anyone would want to be submissive, but after dominating her once or twice, he learned to love having her body under his control.

So why did she leave?

That question always puzzled him. He thought everything was perfect, and then one day he came home to find all of Alyssa’s things gone and divorce papers on the kitchen table.

The phone ringing interrupted his thoughts. He ran back to the living room and answered the call.

“Oh, darling,” his mother cooed into the phone. “I just heard. It is curable, isn’t it? What were you thinking? How did you get it? Did you cheat on poor Lyssy? Please don’t tell me it was that spoiled brat who comes over uninvited,” mother ranted into the phone.

“No, mother, I didn’t cheat on her, and I didn’t get it. I’m clean.”

Yes, he was clean, he was sure of it. And he was sure as hell going to make Alyssa pay for her lies, and he knew exactly what he needed to do.

* * * *

Alyssa Cox pulled her sleek blonde hair into a ponytail as she laughed at herself in the mirror. She was so deliciously evil! Telling the Chlamydia story to Nicole was the perfect lie. Who could have guessed the woman would believe every word she’d said? Two whole weeks had passed since the Nicole incident, and Alyssa wondered why Duncan hadn’t come after her.

Her smile faltered. Could it be that she wanted him to come after her?

That thought scared her. How could she so easily be willing to forgive him for what he did?

There was a knock on her apartment door. She rolled her eyes at her reflection, then headed for the door, rose on her tiptoes and looked through the peep-hole.

Oh, great! A bouquet of pink flowers filled her vision. Obviously, in a small country town, everyone knew she was single. Maybe some young stud wished to impress her, but as enticing as the thought was, she wasn’t ready to date yet. And besides, few men understood her desire to be used. Just because she was the best criminal defense attorney in the whole state, had employees to do her dirty work, and was an all around, independent woman, everyone expected her to be dominant in bed as well as life. She didn’t want all the control. No. For a change, she wanted to be controlled.

Alyssa opened the door and came face-to-face with a bouquet of pink peonies, her favorite flowers. She reached out to take them, but the delivery guy shoved them at her face. Startled, she stumbled back against the wall.

The man holding the flowers shoved his body into hers, pinning her to the wall. Pain ricocheted through her back. The flowers pressed harder to her face. She tried to inhale but their sweet aroma made her choke. Little trickles of sweaty panic rolled down her brow as she raised her arms and tried to swat away the flowers. Her hands connected with something and the man’s body pulled away from her. He groaned, a pained sound that seemed a bit familiar.

No, she couldn’t concentrate on the voice. Her first instinct became survival, escape. She pushed him back with every bit of strength she could muster, but he was too strong.

“Help!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

He pushed her back again, softer this time.

Alyssa raised her leg to kick the man, but he blocked her attack. She dug her acrylic fingernails into his back instead, drawing a painful groan from him.

“Help!” she screamed again.

Icy fingers of fear raked up her spine and she whimpered, feeling defeated. Tears sprung to her eyes. Am I going to die?

No, she couldn’t give in to that thought. Couldn’t give up. Alyssa scratched her nails down his back as hard as she could, and the man pulled away slightly. The flowers dropped to the floor, and the sudden light from outside blinded her.

She saw a man dressed in black, with his face tilted downward and a baseball cap obscuring his face. Something about his frame seemed familiar.

Was it Duncan?

No, she thought to herself. No, she shouldn’t—wouldn’t think about him.

She tried to angle her body away. Tried to run despite her legs being shaky. Just as she was about to look into his eyes a wet rag smothered her nose and everything instantly faded away.

* * * *

She was cold and uncomfortable. Alyssa tried to open her eyes but the tightness of the blindfold made it impossible. She was naked; she could feel that by the breeze in the room. Worst of all, her hands were tied behind her back.

Her heart kathumped and shivers rose up her spine.

She heard a sound, and her head instinctually moved toward the direction of it. Despite the fact that she couldn’t see, Alyssa tried to figure out what the sound was.

Listening intently, she realized somebody had closed a door. Footsteps approached and stopped right in front of her. Unexpectedly, a pair of lips descended on hers, and her heart gave a flutter of happiness at his familiar taste.

Duncan.

Duncan?

Why was she happy it was him? She’d rid her life of him. Wasn’t she happy about that?

Duncan’s lips now traveled down her collarbone, to her chest, until he sucked a nipple into his hot mouth. Instantly, her pussy throbbed with desire and a trickle of moisture pooled between her lips. His hand covered her other breast, sending sensations straight to her core.

She moaned as Duncan bit into her nipple and pulled. First came a rush of pain that send chills through her body, followed by pleasure that made her ache between her legs. She wanted him to touch her pussy. It tingled with need, to the point where she thought the wetness would leak down her inner thighs. She opened her legs, giving him access.

Finally, he pulled away and excitement raced through her. He was going to fuck her! She’d always wanted to be a prisoner of his love. She tried to arch her hips off the couch, giving him an invitation no man could refuse.

Nothing.

She didn’t know how much time passed. Frustrated, Alyssa said, “Fuck me.”

Unable to see, she wished somebody would rip that stupid blindfold off her face. Her pussy was soaking wet, and the need she felt inside was life shattering. If she could, she would put her own fingers to use just to get some of the release she so desperately needed.

“Aren’t you an eager little hussy?”

Oh, that voice. It always sent a hot wave of desire down her back. Now, hearing it for the first time in months, Alyssa had to force herself not to gasp, hearing him speak. He always stole her breath away. She’d always thought it was his looks she’d enjoyed most, but now realized it was all of him. His touch. His taste. His voice. All combined, he was the epitome of a sex god.

“I’m only eager for you,” she said lustfully while rotating her hips on the couch. “You know you want me. I’m all wet for you.”

“Close your legs,” he said, and she reluctantly did as he ordered.

Alyssa felt a soft tickle on both of her nipples at the same time. That little sensation sent waves of liquid heat through her core. It passed over her nipples again, and again. What is that? It felt too soft to be his hands. Too light to be his cock. Too feathery to be…

That was it! He was using feathers to tease her hard nipples. She moaned and arched her back, enjoying the feathery caresses.

She tried to pry her legs open for another invite, but he moved and stood over her, trapping her legs between his.

Alyssa arched her back again, trying to push her whole body forward when she felt something touch the valley between her breasts. It was long and hard, with a bead of moisture at its center. Yes…feed me your cock.

Oh, how she wanted his cock inside her, riding her, giving her pleasure like she never had before. She licked her lips at the thought of him touching her with his beautiful dick.

The feather tickling her nipples suddenly stopped, and she ached for something more tangible. She felt raw with need and…it was wonderful.

Duncan’s large, capable hands spread her legs apart, and the wet heat pooling between her pussy lips slid down her thighs and onto the cushion of the couch.

“Look at you,” he said, with a hint of false disapproval in his voice. “You made a mess on the couch.”

She shrugged. “If you would plug my hole, say, with your dick, then it wouldn’t leak.”

“I would like to use my dick,” he said while helping her to her knees. Alyssa’s legs felt wobbly and for the first time, she realized she was wearing high heels. “Tell me, Miss Cox, do you like sucking cocks?”

She moaned. Just the thought of having him in her mouth made her body heat with need and desire. “You know it.”

His cockhead nudged her lips and she opened her mouth, ready for his taste. Alyssa circled her tongue around the sensitive head, enjoying the dribble of pre-cum as she lashed her tongue across the bulbous tip. Oh, how she missed that taste!

She took him into her mouth, and he filled her like she’d never been filled before. She rocked her mouth back and forth, his little pleasure groans encouraging her. While sucking his cock, she remembered the first time she did it.

They were dating at the time. Alyssa always lived by one hard rule, no sex until she was ready. She had fought her natural urges, trying to stay away from Duncan for three whole months, trying to see how long he would survive on kisses alone. However, while trying to break him, she broke herself. She was the one who ended up breaking her own rules and two and a half months into the relationship, Alyssa invited Duncan to her apartment. She could still remember that night like it was yesterday.

The dinner was spectacular and shooting pool was one of the most fun experiences she had in a while. But as fun as shooting pool, mini-golfing, and visiting local hot spots was, Alyssa could no longer hide the need she felt rushing through her body. She needed him. More than just his kisses and the lingering of his hands. She needed him to touch her, kiss her, and lick her. She needed his cock, to feel the fullness and hardness of it inside her.

She was the one who insisted on the “no sex for three months” rule, and here she was, the one breaking it. So much for self-respect!

Yet, she couldn’t resist, so when Duncan followed her into the kitchen, Alyssa took a sip of ice water from a cocktail glass and then, she went down to her knees and started to unzip Duncan’s jeans.

“What are you doing?” His voice was hard and laced with the same need that ran through her.

“I’ve wanted to do this since day one.”

She released his dick from the restrains of his boxer briefs and stared in wonder at his large cock. Oh, how big it was! She wondered if she could even fit it into her mouth.

Oh, but to taste him. She would kill just for a taste of his cock on her lips. Alyssa ran her tongue up and down the length of his penis, juggling his balls in the palm of one hand and stroking his shaft with the other. His groans of desire filled her pussy with liquid heat and she knew a fun night lay ahead of her.

His grunts became more rapid, and his breathing hard. She knew he was about to come. Just as he was about to explode inside her mouth, he pulled his dick out. She guessed he thought most women hated to taste semen.

She grabbed her drinking glass off the counter and stroked his dick a few more times, until his cum jetted into the glass. After she was done, she added some coconut rum, orange juice, and cherry syrup to the glass.

“What are you doing?” Duncan asked, his eyes wide.

She shrugged innocently and gave him her sexiest smile. “What? I’m just drinking a cum cocktail.” She stirred it with a short cocktail straw and took a sip. “Tasty.”

It was there and then that she saw the look in his eyes. The look that spoke louder than words. He loved her. He really loved her, despite if he wanted to or not.

Duncan Morrison was the town’s most eligible bachelor. He was the one man every woman wanted but couldn’t have, couldn’t tame. Until she came along.

“Oh, I’m about to come,” Duncan said on a groan, pulling her back to the moment.

She continued sucking him harder, stroking him with abandon.

“Do you…?”

She nodded and moaned the best she could without letting go of his dick.

He exploded in her mouth. Alyssa swallowed, savoring his flavor. “I always enjoyed the taste of you.”

“And I always enjoyed watching you drink me.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She could only imagine what he looked like at that moment, the lust in his eyes as he watched her drink him up.

Strong hands gripped her forearms and helped her to her feet. She extended her head toward him, expecting a kiss.

Nothing again!

What was the matter with him? She blew him like he’d never been blown before and he wasn’t even going to kiss her?

Well, she wasn’t in a position to call the shots…

And as always, that very concept thrilled her. However, her arms ached from being tied up behind her back for so long, and the whole blindfold thing was getting old. She longed to see his face. She longed to grab him by his cock and force him into her pussy.

Oh, my poor, neglected pussy. Why was he taking so long to touch it?

Duncan lifted her off the floor and led her to another room. Excitement roared through her. Was he finally going to fuck her brains out?

Suddenly, he pushed her and she doubled over, landing on something soft. She knew immediately he’d pushed her onto a mattress.

Duncan’s palm covered one cheek perfectly, and then the sting of his slap made her pussy clench with anticipation. God, she needed him.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” Duncan said as his hand came down on the other cheek. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What did I do?” she asked in a flirty voice, trying her best not to deter him from his spanking. It had been a while since he’d touched her so possessively.

“You sucked a cock, for one thing.” He slapped her ass again, sending shivers of need through her. “Good girls don’t suck cock.”

“Oh, I must be really bad then.”

She felt his teeth sink into her buttock and she moaned, clenching her butt cheeks together as her pussy pulsed harder, aching to be filled.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I want to suck cock again.”

He groaned. “Maybe later.”

For some reason, that disappointed her a little. But the instant his hand landed on her ass cheek again, she was happy…for now.

“Spread your legs.”

She did as told. The breeze in the room made her shiver when the cold air slithered across her heated flesh. Duncan’s hand slid over her navel, down to her mound, and then he covered her smooth pussy lips.

“You’re all wet again,” he murmured in her ear.

Oh, she was wet all right. She hadn’t had the chance to dry up.

Excitement spiked through her when Duncan smacked her ass again and again, making the pressure inside her build until she thought she’d explode.

Alyssa gasped for breath, surprised that he hadn’t even entered her, and yet, she was about to get her release. Her hands clenched into fists, wishing she could grab onto something to help her ride the waves of pleasure. Her toes curled inside her stiletto heels.

Then it stopped.

Like a surprising calm after the storm, she was shocked to feel it all come to an end. Duncan had just pulled away. He didn’t allow her to get what she so desperately needed. And for the first time since the blindfold was put on her, she felt completely at his mercy, and she liked it.

Alyssa didn’t know how long she was crouched over the bed, with her face down, ass up in the air, and her knees on the floor. But when she tried to scoot up and lay down comfortably, without the use of her arms it was impossible.

But it couldn’t have been too long. She was still wet, her juices coating her thighs.

She closed her legs and rubbed them together, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable wetness.

She heard Duncan’s footsteps approach her again.

He touched her ass, and from all the spanking, her skin was sensitive to the touch. Alyssa moaned and her nipples hardened when she felt the touch of his hand, first on her ass cheek, then slowly trailing toward her anus.

He teased it, trailing his finger up and down until she felt something small and cold penetrate her. Something hard and foreign. She contracted, then relaxed, accepting the round object. Whatever it was, she was able to accept it with ease.

Anal beads. Of course. She remembered buying them and Duncan had shoved them in her ass, all at once. He also fucked her pussy with the beads still inside her. That was one of the best sexual moments she’d ever had, and the orgasm that rocked through her had made her legs tremble for almost an hour afterward.

Was this going to be a repeat of that time? Oh, please let it be!

Another bead entered her ass, bigger, rounder, and the fullness made her pussy clench with need.

“Ah, baby,” she cried out.

“Hmm?”

“I need more.”

Just like that, he shoved the entire plastic stick up her ass, all the way to the fattest bead.

Tears of absolute pleasure stung her eyes. She inhaled deeply, feeling tightness in her chest. Oh, how she loved this!

How she missed and loved…

Loved?

No, she couldn’t think that. She was the one who left him, after all. This had to be just her enjoying the sex. She couldn’t have fallen in love with him again. Couldn’t!

So why did loving him feel right, natural?

Alyssa shook her head slightly, trying her hardest to ignore the thoughts racing through her mind. She needed a distraction. Needed to concentrate on the way her body responded to him.

Duncan pulled out most of the bead stick, and her ass felt oddly vacant. With speed and force, he shoved the whole thing in again, and Alyssa moaned, her earlier thoughts fading away, replaced with a need to be pleased. All she could think about was just how much she loved having him play with her.

Her pussy ached with need, and Alyssa desperately wanted him to enter her with his cock. She missed having that big cock press into her wet hole. How she missed feeling the fullness from it when he stretched her walls and invaded her like she’d never been invaded before.

“Fuck me,” she pleaded. She would die if she didn’t get to feel his cock soon. “Oh, baby, shove it in me.”

The stick of beads was suddenly pulled out, making her ass and her body feel uncomfortably empty and neglected. “No,” Duncan said.

No?

How dare he tell her no!

No man had ever said no to her!

“No?” she asked in an unintended shout.

“You have Chlamydia.”

“No I don’t,” she rushed to answer. “I lied.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want that skank, Nicole, dating you.”

The blindfold was suddenly lifted off her eyes. Everything exploded into light as the bright sunlight filtered through the big bedroom windows. She was laid on their marital bed, in their—his home. How she missed this place, their home, their life together. The thought almost made her weep.

She blinked, trying to adjust to the bright sunlight and focus on Duncan. How could he look better than she ever remembered?

His light brown hair, which was normally trimmed short in a military styled haircut, had grown out a bit unevenly. She longed to run her fingers through his sexy, messy tresses. She admired the six-pack abs and the strong legs on the man who always rocked her world. Oh, how she missed curling up with him at night, or waking in his arms each morning. Tears pooled in her eyes and she quickly turned her head away.

He reached out and cupped her chin, forcing her to face him. His jaw was more prominent then she remembered. Concern appeared in his grey eyes, laced with traces of love. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just the light. My eyes need to adjust to it.” Alyssa desperately hoped her voice didn’t betray her real feelings. “Can you untie my arms?”

He shook his head. “I need a few answers first.”

That voice, it always made her weak in the knees. Her gaze traveled down to his beautiful cock, the cock she loved so much.

No, not loved.

She couldn’t love him. “I want to go home.”

“You were enjoying yourself a minute ago.”

“We were having sex a minute ago.” Although she hadn’t come yet. How strange of him to make her beg for it. Oh, but she loved begging for it.

“Why did you lie?” His eyes were dark and piercing. Dangerous even.

“I told you. I didn’t want to see you with her,” she spat.

“And why do you care? You were the one who left me.”

She didn’t answer. What could she say? Instead, she looked down at the floor as her tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Why did you leave me?”

“You should have read the divorce contract. It stated it in there.”

“I’m not going to settle for irreconcilable differences. Now why did you leave me?”

She stood on wobbly legs and turned around, turning her back to him. “Untie me.”

“Not until you answer me.”

How dare he make demands outside of bed? Didn’t he know how hard it was for her? Didn’t he understand the heartbreak she felt? Alyssa felt the shattered pieces of her heart sink to her stomach, cutting at her like shards of glass. “Untie me!”

Her voice echoed off the walls, and Duncan finally untied her hands. She stretched them, feeling some of their tenseness shift, then she turned around and faced him. “Thank you.”

“Now tell me, why did you leave me?”

Alyssa looked down, trying to find the right words. “Because you cheated on me.”

Her whole body went slack the instant she let go of those words. She crumbled onto the bed, keeping her gaze away from him. She didn’t want to see his expression.

“What?” Disbelief carried through his voice. “What makes you think that?”

She finally met his eyes, her own burning with unshed hate and pain, the heartbreak that tore through her every day. “You started working late. You were always too tired for sex.” Except that one time when he took her by force. It was some of the best sex she’d ever had.

Duncan fell to his knees and placed his hands on her hips. He looked up at her with pleading eyes. “It was my job, I had to work late. I promise you, I never cheated.”

“Then why did you stop enjoying me?”

He cupped her chin in one hand and wiped at her tears with the other. “Baby, I would come home too tired to even think about sex.”

She shook her head and pushed his hands away. “Then why did she tell me about the two of you?”

“Who?” His look of genuine confusion broke her heart. What if he was telling her the truth? She wished that was the case.

“Nicole. She’s the reason I left. She called me and told me you were hers.” She stood, ready to leave.

Duncan grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to him, turning her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. “Alyssa, Nicole was just a client. She would come to the stables all the time—”

“She sucked your cock at the stables,” Alyssa interrupted. The anger in her voice chilled her own blood. She escaped his clutches and turned to face him, staring into his eyes. “I asked around, and one of your stable hands told me he saw you and Nicole in the stables. Said she was completely naked and on her knees with your cock in her mouth.”

He looked away, as if ashamed, and then his eyes met hers. “I should have told you. She came on to me.”

“And of course you had to shove your dick in her mouth!” she shouted.

“That’s not what happened!” His voice ricocheted off the walls.

“Then tell me. What happened?” She crossed her arms over her naked chest. At that moment she hated being nude.

“I was feeding the horses when she tapped on my shoulder and turned me around. She was completely naked already. She forced a kiss on me and before I knew it my cock was in her mouth.”

“And you had to let her finish, didn’t you?”

He took her hand again and intertwined his fingers with hers. He looked into her eyes. “I promise you, I never cheated on you, never wanted to, and never will. I pushed her away and told her to leave and never come back. I left and came home, and I made love to you that night.”

Alyssa remembered that night now. She remembered when Duncan came home and ran into the shower. At that moment she found it strange that he would shower the instant he walked in through the door, rather then say hi to her. However, what was stranger, was when he came downstairs soaking wet and naked, with an erection. He hadn’t said anything to her, just threw her on the table and drove himself into her, over and over until they both came in a forceful rush.

That was the last time they had sex.

The next day she’d bumped into Nicole on her way to work, and Nicole bragged about being inside Duncan’s pants. She didn’t believe her right away, but eventually, Alyssa started talking to his co-workers and learned that what had happened in the stable was true. Who she thought to be her soul mate, turned into a cheater. Divorce was the only answer, even though leaving him was the hardest decision she’d ever made.

“I never cheated on you,” Duncan repeated.

The look in his eyes was so honest. Why did she want to believe him? Was he that good of a liar or was he really telling the truth?

“But tell me one thing,” he said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Why did you go to the women’s clinic?”

She turned away, trying her hardest to slip her fingers free from his.

“Alyssa, I was honest with you. I expect the same courtesy.”

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

He released her. His eyes burned with confusion and anger. “You’re what? Is it mine?”

She threw her arms up. “Of course it’s yours! I never cheated on you.”

“Even after we separated?”

She shook her head. Sure, she’d thought about it, but she couldn’t get Duncan out of her head. She still loved him, even though she tried not to. And now she carried his baby, which seemed a blessing and a curse at the same time.

Duncan looked toward the ceiling and breathed heavily. “That’s a lot to take in. We’re going to be parents.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. A smile spread across his handsome face. “I actually like this. We’re going to be parents.”

She smiled too, unable to contain herself. “I guess we are.”

Duncan dropped her hand and moved toward the dresser. He opened the top drawer and shuffled through some things.

Alyssa didn’t know how to feel. Earlier that morning she was kidnapped by her soon-to-be ex-husband and explored to her body’s content. Well, almost. And now, her secret was out and his was cleared up. So where do they take it from here?

Duncan turned around and walked toward her. He dropped to his knees and took her left hand into his. “Alyssa, will you do me the honor of being my wife again?” He slipped her abandoned wedding ring back over her ring finger.

It fit perfectly, as she knew it would, and she hadn’t realized until now just how much she missed having it there. “Yes,” she cried, pulling him up to his feet. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Maybe this time you’ll take my name.”

She shrugged and gave him a coy smile. “I’ll think about it.”

They kissed passionately, sealing their new beginning. She explored his mouth, hating all the time she had spent without him, while enjoying his familiar taste. Her hands raked over his back, his hair, and his arms.

Duncan pulled her to him and his cock pressed against her mound. She moaned and rotated her hips, feeling his cock stiffen more.

He laid her on the bed and settled between her legs. When he entered her, slowly, meaningfully, she felt like her heart would explode with happiness.

All of those broken shards came together, mended and healed, and her heart was full again, to have the love of her life back in her arms.

He moved in and out, building pleasure inside her, as his mouth rained kisses all over her face and neck.

She pressed him close to her chest and she smiled in pure ecstasy. Her legs started to tingle and her belly vibrated. She arched her back, holding him tighter, as the orgasm rocked through her, sending little spasms all over her body.

Duncan moaned and his body stilled. Alyssa felt joy no words could describe feeling his powerful orgasm jet inside her.

“I love you,” he said, and the look on his face proved it.

“I love you, too,” she whispered in a shaky voice, as the orgasm still tingled through her, making her whole body vibrate with pleasure. “I always did, and I always will.” Alyssa lifted her head and locked her lips with his.

Despite being kidnapped, it had turned out to be the best day of her life.

The End

www.angelina-rain.com

Other Books by Angelina Rain:

Indecent Encounters

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

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