Surrender: Tales of Submission (11 page)

"Aidan, I can't stand it. Please fuck me hard. Now!"

She pushed her hips back as much as her bonds would

allow, causing his dick to sink marginally into her

opening.

With one slow, agonizing thrust, he sank his cock to

the hilt in her hot, gripping pussy. His breath clogged in his throat at the sensation of her muscles clamping down on his dick. He was so close to losing it; he had to be careful, or he wouldn't be able to last long enough to take her ass. And oh, how he wanted to spear her backside with his thick dick. He wanted to hear her screams of pleasure as she fought against the pleasure-pain he would give her.

Reaching down, without removing his swollen cock, he

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grabbed the tube of lubricant he needed.

Squeezing a good amount on his fingers, he eased

them between the cheeks of her bottom, spreading the

lubricant around the tight hole. She gasped at the initial touch of his fingers to her neglected entrance. Slipping two fingers inside her anus, he began pumping his cock and

fingers in the same rhythm.

As his rhythm built, so did his rising orgasm. When he

thought they were both about to come, he pulled

completely out.

"No, Aidan. Please don't stop. So close. Need to come,"

she panted, her words coming out in short gasps.

"You will, baby, but not until I fuck my beautiful submissive's ass." Her body jerked at the word

“submissive.” "That's right, Carli. Submissive, that's what you are." He began working his thick head against the tight entrance. As her backside slowly yielded, he slid his cock in to the hilt.

"That's it, baby. Take the whole thing." Her ass was so tight he was going to blow any second. She whimpered as she tried to push back. "Call me what you want to call me.

Now, dammit!"

"Harder, Master, harder." Finally, she had succumbed.

"That's right, baby. You're mine. Now. Don't even

think about leaving me again."

As she begged, he pumped as hard as he could

knowing the friction gave her as much pain as pleasure.

Her ass clenched on his flesh, driving him closer to the edge.

"More," she cried out. "Please, Sir, harder."

Aidan explored the lines of her back before he

tightened his hands on her waist, pulling her roughly onto his shaft. She screamed when she came, her body and

muscles quivering around his cock. As her orgasm

continued, he kept pumping until his own orgasm burst

free, and he shot his load of hot semen in her gripping ass.

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His cock pulsed inside her as his hips continued to thrust through all the aftershocks of his release.

A long time later, he eased from her body. Barely able

to stand, he quickly untied her bonds and scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the bedroom and

deposited her on the bed. He retrieved a warm, wet cloth from her bathroom and began to bathe her body. She

mumbled something he couldn't understand into the

pillow with a sleepy voice.

"Carli, look at me."

She slowly rolled toward him with a shy expression

on her face. Her cheeks were flushed and glowing, her hair a wild mass of curls across the pillow. She looked more beautiful to him than ever before.

"I love you. I always have. You belong to me." He absently roamed his hands over the curve of her hip. "Will you marry me this time?" Her look of shock surprised him.

Before she could respond, he went on. "I'll expect you to wear my collar as well as my ring, and in bed you will

submit to every desire and whim I have with total

obedience."

"But outside the bedroom nothing changes?" she asked.

"No, you're still tough, strong Carli, kick-ass

investigator. Wife, lover, and one day mother."

Her eyes moistened. She couldn't believe he still

wanted her after learning how far she needed him to go.

Her pussy tingled with anticipation, knowing he desired to dominate her the way she needed.

"Yes, I'll marry you. I'll be your wife, submissive, and someday mother to your children." She laughed as tears of happiness fell from her eyes.

He reached over and tweaked her nipples playfully as

she bit his shoulder. When he smacked her bottom, she

wondered how he felt about sharing.

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Cupid's Captive

Reese Gabriel

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SURRENDER

John Cupid hated Valentine's Day almost as much as

he hated his name. As a child, he'd been forced to endure endless teasing, and even now people kept at it, acting like he was supposed to be some kind of incarnation of the

cherubic god of love.

Love...

John had no more use for it than he did for the

holiday. Lust was the only thing one could quantify, and that was far too fickle to control. Being a lawyer, he knew enough to get everything in writing—including the sexual likes and dislikes of his partners.

His own interests tended towards bondage and

domination. He was a sexual master, and he liked his

women pliant, obedient, and submissive. John gave the

orders in bed, and all his naughty, consenting girls got sore bottoms.

Hell, even the good girls got them.

There were no shortage of applicants, due to John's

natural charm and good looks. He kept things light, no

strings attached, no problems down the line. It was a good system, and tonight he had a hot new prospect lined up: a perky PR executive he'd met at a club last week.

Unfortunately, there are situations one can't get out of in life, and when his partner at the small law firm they co-ran came to him practically begging him to take his little sister out for Valentine's Day, he could see his hot night with Marilee flying out the window.

"John," implored the wiry, lean-faced Carl Hayes.

"How often do I ask for personal favors? Steffy is on her college break, and my folks specifically asked me to keep her out of trouble, especially on Valentine's Day. God

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knows what a pretty, precocious girl like her could get into."

"Why don't you hire a baby sitter?" grumbled John, who was having a hard time seeing Steffy as anything

other than the wise-ass seventeen-year-old in pigtails and bright pink sneakers who spent her time listening to music that made a cat fight sound melodic.

Carl shook his head. "She's twenty-one now, John. I can't buy her off with ice cream and lip gloss. If you don't take care of her, she'll go out clubbing. I'd do it myself, but you know I have to meet with that Japanese consortium."

John ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. It was

half past four already. "Thanks for the advanced notice."

Carl's expression was pained, his brow pinched. "I can't help it, buddy, she just called me out of the blue."

John sighed. Carl never could stand up to women.

"You owe me for this. You do."

"You name your terms." Carl brightened like a man reprieved. "You're the man, John."

"No," he quipped. "I'm the big, fat sucker, born about a minute ago."

John speed-dialed Marilee, his date for the night with

the bad news. He had to leave a voice mail. Talk about low class. She'd never speak to him again.

"Aw, it won't be so bad. Trust me, guys will be

jealous." Carl winked. "Steffy's all grown up these days."

"You mean all the pimple-faced teenage boys will be jealous," said the thirty-one-year-old John. "Cretins with IQs lower than my golf scores."

"The way you play golf?" Carl grinned. "Einstein's IQ

was lower."

"Go on, keep insulting me," John groused. "See if I don't change my mind about watching the brat."

"It's nice to see you, too, Uncle John," trilled a female voice from the door way.

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John turned and was immediately stunned by a vision

of feminine beauty, not at all the kid he remembered.

"Steffy?"

He couldn't help but be dazzled by the picture: green

eyes to bring a man to his knees; silky, raven's wing tresses piled seductively on her head; the cute figure so perfectly accentuated in a short, sparkly silver skirt and a matching top, tight across her ample bosom and more than a little revealing of her flat, lightly tanned stomach.

There was a diamond in her belly button, a single

piercing on a silver rod, tiny and made of cool steel. Her little pink ears were pierced by silver hoops. Her lips were painted a silvery pink, liquid and glossy; they made him thirst deep within.

"It's been a while, Uncle John." She gave him a hug.

The warmth and energy of her was overpowering. This

was a woman's body now, molded, instinctively seeking to fit with a male's.

John broke the connection short. Shit, he was getting a hard-on.

"You look good," she said, her voice a bit too sultry for comfort.

And you look like a goddess
, he wanted to reply.

"He's had a lot of cosmetic surgery, sis," Carl piped up. "Don't let him fool you."

"He doesn't need it, big brother," she said, looking John in the eye. "Never will."

John's pulse kicked up a notch. Was she flirting with

him?

"Oh, great." Carl rolled his eyes. "Just what I need.

Someone else pumping up John's ego. I can barely work

with him now."

Carl gave Steffy a kiss on the cheek. "Oh, well. Gotta run. You mind your manners and do what Uncle John tells you."

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A shiver went down John's spine as he thought of the

young woman complying with some of the very X-rated

commands on his mind at the moment. She was certainly

old enough, though probably not submissive.

Anyway, she was off limits. Too young and practically

family to boot. She called him uncle, for crying out loud.

"So...you ready for a night out with the brat?" she said after Carl was gone. She was smiling slanted, eyes

challenging.

"I am sorry you overheard that," John said.

"I'm not," she replied, her emerald eyes dancing, full lips moving into a pout. "I like being a brat."

The blood filled John's cock. Steffy was appealing to

him at a visceral level. Did she realize just what she was messing with here? Brats had a special place in the world of dominance and submission. They were women who

taunted strong men, crossing the line in hopes of being dragged across the knee, pretty little skirts flipped up and panties pulled down for stinging erotic punishment...and whatever followed naturally.

John cleared his throat. "We should...um...get going.

Are you hungry?"

She licked her lips. "For food?"

John frowned, ignoring the innuendo. "I know a place nearby, they have burgers and stuff."

She rolled her eyes, not unlike her brother. "I'm a little old for
burgers and stuff
, don't you think?"

"Fine," he said, his temper shortening by the moment.

"A steakhouse, then. We'll take my car."

"Whatever you say, Uncle John." She walked in front of him, her ass swaying.

"Does your family approve of you dressing that way?"

he asked when they got in the car.

She settled herself into the bucket seat of his English roadster, her legs slightly parted. The skirt rode high on 95

SURRENDER

her thighs. "I'm an adult. It's no one's business. Don't tell me you're going to get uptight on me."

He tried to keep his eyes on the road and off Steffy,

her belly and ripe breasts, her mile long legs. Talk about blossoming overnight...

"I don't care one way or the other. Just curious."

She opened her legs a little further. Vamp. "Really?

Most guys I run across care quite a lot."

"I'm sure they do. I imagine you put quite a lot of ideas in their heads."

John could have kicked himself for letting the

conversation go down this road, but it was too late.

Not surprisingly, Steffy pounced. "What about you?

Do I put ideas in your mind?"

Time to shut this down fast...

"Not really. I still think of you as a kid, mostly."

"You do?" Her voice was light and playful, but she was all business. That college she'd been at must have

taught some interesting things.

"That's funny," she added. "Because that rocket in your pants says otherwise."

John nearly slammed into the car in front of them at

the next traffic light. "Young lady, you will refrain from ever speaking to me like that again, is that clear?"

He glared at her. She was biting her lower lip,

suppressing a smile, taunting him...but into what exactly?

"Yes, Sir," she rasped.

His cock ached, desperate to be called into play. Why

in bloody hell did she have to call him
sir
? She might as well strip naked and throw herself at him.

He had half a mind to dump her off somewhere, but

he couldn't do that. He was the adult here, the older adult, and he had to maintain control. "Let's just talk about something else. How do you like school?"

"It's lame." She propped her elbow on the door, palm on her chin. She was adorable, mischievous...practically 96

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begging to be taken in hand. But she didn't even know

what BDSM was—did she?

"There must be something good about it..."

"I went to a frat party last week and did a beer bong.

Then some guys did Jell-O shots off me and my best girl friend."

"Jell-O shots?" He was afraid to ask.

"That's when you lay a girl out, Uncle John, naked or close to it." Her eyes were afire; the minx was trying to get him worked up. "And you eat squares of Jell-O off her stomach, made out of liquor."