Surrender: Tales of Submission (16 page)

He withdrew to the tip, palms bracing on either side

of her, holding his firm, muscular body above her, just out of reach. "Beg for it."

"I don't think so." She wrinkled her nose, testing.

He smiled, liking the challenge. Very slowly, expertly, he began to tease, giving her just enough of his hot,

pulsing shaft to drive her wild, but never enough to

satisfy.

"Beg," he said again.

She thrashed her head, defying.

"I can do this all night..."

She didn't doubt him. "This isn't fair, Master."

"It's not supposed to be." He licked her left breast, moistening her hot, smooth skin.

Steffy lifted herself off the bed, trying to pull him

inside her.

He gave her nipple a warning chew. "Lie still."

She collapsed, frustrated, defeated. "Please?" she said in a small voice.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me."

He shook his head. "That isn't close to begging."

"Please?" she mouthed, her voice a faint, hot breath.

"Please use your slave?"

"Why?"

"B—because..."

"Not an answer." He took his cock all the way out.

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"Because she needs you, Master," she said quickly.

"Your slave needs to be owned by your cock. She needs to give you pleasure."

"Who is in control?" he asked.

"You are," she assured.

"You've stopped begging," he noted.

"Please fuck me, Master, come inside me, I am your girl, I am your sex slave. Let my body please you. I'll be a good girl; I'll be your obedient little pet..."

"Damn straight you will." He came down on her, ferocious, teeth gritted. His power put her in utter awe.

She'd had no idea a man could desire a woman like this, let alone a woman like her.

"I love you," he declared. "God help me, you are beautiful, intense and intelligent...more than I have a right to ask from the universe."

"But I'm here." She clutched at his upper arms. "I'm real, and I'm not going anywhere."

He inclined his head, letting out a deep guttural

groan. His semen released inside her, his penis fully

submerged. She clenched her pussy muscles, milking him, taking every dominant drop, savoring every star-swept

moment.

John Cupid...having sex with her, making love, calling

her his.

They slept together afterwards, front to back, perfectly spooned, his hand circling her waist. He held her firm, tight, possessive.

At one point, she had to go to the bathroom.

"It'll cost you," he said.

She returned to find him lying on his back, hands

behind his head on the pillow. What a specimen, she

thought, with his hard abdomen and muscled chest slowly rising and falling, his cock half-stiff again, his balls as full and tight as before.

Steffy didn't need to be told what to do.

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She crawled onto the bed, between his legs. She began

with his calves, delivering tiny kisses. He was hard as a rock by the time she got to his cock.

"I was supposed to do that," she said, with a mock pout.

"You already did," he said with a chuckle.

Hungrily, she buried him between her lips. She took

the length of him like a lollipop, the sweetest flavor. It was the perfect ending to a perfect night. An ending that was also a beginning. So much to look forward to, so much to think about. This was like a dream come true, but she

wasn't naïve. It would be hard work, anything good was a struggle, but the ends were worth it.

He let her suck for a bit, then he had her mount him,

straddling his lean waist, impaling herself. She ran her fingers through her hair, closing her eyes. He told her again how beautiful she was and was she sure she really wanted to be mixed up with him?

Yes, a million times yes.

Her body did the talking.

One more rocking orgasm for the night, mutual and

wild, hearts merged, two souls intertwining, yearning to learn more about the other.

They collapsed afterward in a tangle, and this time, it was deeper than sleep...more intense than a dream.

She was happy, fulfilled...Cupid's Captive.

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TALES OF EROTIC SUBMISSION

Listen To Me

She's standing there—by the window—with her back

to the room, silhouetted by the moonlight filtering through the sliding glass doors that lead to the balcony. I'm sure she hears me enter, but she doesn't turn around. Closing the heavy door behind me, I turn the deadbolt, and she

flinches to the soft snick of it.

We've planned this, negotiated it, but she's still

nervous. I can tell. Although she's perfectly still, I can read the apprehension in the set of her shoulders. A little fear won't hurt. In fact, it'll probably help. I cross the room in four long strides, tossing my shoulder bag on the king-sized bed in passing, and I stand very close to her with my hands clasped behind my back.

Leaning forward so that just my breasts brush against

her back, I bury my nose in her hair and inhale deeply. Her thick, dark curls smell like rain—warm, summer rain

tinged with the cloying scent of honeysuckle blossoms. I lift her hair away from her neck and whisper into the skin just below her ear, "Listen to me." She shivers to the husky tone of my voice, the sensation of my breath. "Are you ready for this?"

In response, she drops her head back against my

shoulder and sighs—half exhalation, half 'Yes'...and all surrender. I smile. It's a devilish little grin, full of the most exquisite potential. Tonight will be well worth the months of waiting.

I grasp each of her arms from where they're folded

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against her chest and smooth them to her sides. Her neck and shoulders tense, and I take a little time to massage them. Not much, though. I'm impatient for her skin.

When she's relaxed a little bit, I reach around her body to unbutton and remove her blouse. Her creamy skin

glows in the silvery light, and she gasps as I nibble on her bare shoulders. My hands continue to disrobe her as my

mouth enjoys the salty-sweet taste of her flesh. When her jeans puddle around her ankles, she steps out of them.

"Don't move," I caution, crossing the room to fetch my bag. The zipper is loud against the backdrop of the night, and I pull it very slowly—savoring her fear-tinged

curiosity. She starts to turn around, but stops when I say,

"No." I extract two items, placing them on the corner of the bed, and grab a third.

Returning to her, I trail the silk scarf across her ass and up her spine. A blush suffuses her skin. I can feel it rather than see it—a slight increase in the surface

temperature, a slight shift in her scent. When I drape the scarf over her eyes, she giggles nervously.

"Listen to me. Are you ready for this?" I ask as I fold it over her eyes and knot it at the back of her head.

She just whimpers. The sound of it stokes me, and I

back away from her long enough to undress myself. She

cocks her head to the side, listening—her other senses

beginning to heighten due to the loss of vision. I can tell she's fighting the urge to turn but resists.

Grabbing the items I'd taken from my bag, I stand

before her and hold them under her nose. "What do you smell, kitten?"

She inhales, then groans softly, but doesn't speak. I

grasp one wrist and buckle a black leather cuff around it.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Please," she whispers, offering her other wrist to be cuffed. "Please."

I push her hand away and press my bare body to hers.

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Warm, almost feverish, skin greets me from shoulder to

thigh. She searches for my mouth—blindly—with her own,

but I do not let her catch it. Her desperation amuses me.

Her body excites me. Her submission thrills me.

Circling her, I cuff the other wrist and join the two

behind her back with a metal clamp. The bonds pull her

shoulders back and lift her breasts. Her nipples are taut—

eager for my attentions. I lead her toward the sofa, pausing to push the small coffee table out of the way.

She hesitates, then takes the tiniest of steps, hampered by both her lack of vision and inability to balance. When we reach the sofa, I position myself against the back and pull her down so that she's sitting in front of me, between my legs. I can feel the heavy leather cuffs against my bare mons and the wiggle of her fingers when she realizes

where her hands rest.

"Nice," I growl into her hair, pulling her backward until she's lying against my chest. Her back arches toward the ceiling, and she turns her head toward mine. This time, I let her kiss me—and the taste of her lips coupled with the movement of her fingers brings a surge of wetness. She

feels it, too, and chuckles softly into my mouth.

Breaking the kiss—lest I get lost in the pleasure she's giving me—I snake my arms through hers and wrap them

around her waist to caress her skin. She holds her breath, waiting for me to move toward either her nipples or her pussy. I do both—abruptly—and she voices her

appreciation.

"Hush!" I scold, giving her pussy a slap and twisting a nipple. "You'll wake the neighbors." She doesn't hear me, though. She's in the zone.

With her feet planted on the floor, she pushes her hips upward in search of my hand, lifting her ass off the sofa and crushing my chest with her shoulders. I release her nipple and allow both hands to settle between her legs, one focusing on her clit while the other dips deeper to 135

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slide a couple fingers into her wet cunt.

The scent of her arousal permeates my mind, and I

want to taste her—to drive her crazy with my tongue. But that's too easy, too fast—for both of us. This rendezvous requires at least a little patience. Plus I'm waiting for something.

She bucks against my hands, trying to prolong the

contact, but I'm not ready for her to come. Not yet. When I move both hands to her tits, her fervor calms a bit, and she seems to concentrate on the sensations—moaning softly. A light sheen of sweat coats her body. It catches the

moonlight.

Once she's backed away from the edge, I feel her

fingers exploring my pussy, and I allow her to play for a while before returning one of my hands to her sex. I take her back to the edge, then again calm her. Twice. She's writhing and gasping and begging me to let her come, but I'm still not ready.

I hear a small noise and look up to find him leaning

against the doorway, watching us. She hasn't noticed,

being unable to see and too lost in her own pleasure to hear him.

Now, I'm ready.

"Be still now," I say and wait for her to comply, delivering another slap to her pussy to emphasize my

words. "Listen to me. We have company. Are you ready for this?”

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About the Authors

Eden Bradley
writes erotica and sensual romance in between her duties as book review editor and member

liaison at RomanceDivas.com, an award-winning romance

writers' resource website, where she has published several articles on writing love scenes.

Eden has been writing since she was old enough to hold a pen. While other children had imaginary friends, she spent her childhood with the characters in her head for

company, creating stories for her entertainment. But it was only a few years ago that it occurred to her she should try to actually publish what she was writing. She embarked on the journey to publication, learning everything she could about the craft and business of writing along the way.

When not busy writing, she enjoys a sybaritic life of

cooking, eating, gardening, shopping, traveling, lounging and reading everything she can get her hands on. She

particularly adores sultry, sensual stories of love. Please visit her website at: www.edenbradleyerotica.com.

* * * *

From the moment
Eliza Gayle
read her first erotic romance novel a couple of years ago, she knew she had

found her niche and realized her dream of writing was

passing her by. So after years of thinking about it, she 137

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finally grabbed her laptop and wrote. These days she likes her stories hot and spicy, whether they be contemporary, fantasy or paranormal, and will write in whatever genre her imagination has conjured that day.

Eliza lives in beautiful North Carolina and spends her

days dividing her time between writing, her book video

business, a part-time job as promotions manager and

raising her two daughters.

* * * *

Reese Gabriel
is an internationally known author of erotica, specializing in romance bondage and BDSM. He

has over sixty published novels and continues to write at a prolific pace. Reese lives with his wife and best friend of twenty years and enjoys old movies, swimming, and walks on the beach. He is an advocate of human rights and sexual freedom and believes that the best days of the

human race are yet to come, as soon as we grow up and

learn to live as one species, sanely, and rationally.

* * * *

Alessia Brio
is the ultra sexy, erotica-writing alter ego of an Appalachian soccer mom. She is "sensual, succulent, and satisfying" even when her creator feels like a hairy warthog. Her debut book, a single-author anthology of