Shades of Pleasure: Five Stories of Domination and Submission

by Tawny Taylor

  But one thing at a time. Tonight was an important beginning, and he wouldn’t blow it. He’d make sure that by the end of the night, she’d be aching to come back for more.

  Years of experience had taught him what most women wanted. They wanted a strong man who could be vulnerable at the right time. They wanted a man who could make demands, take control, but also give back more than he received. They wanted a man who would listen to them when they needed to vent without shoving solutions down their throats.

  He could be all those things for her, and more.

  After giving up on his hair, he went outside, climbed into his car, and drove to her home. His body was tense with expectation, his cock already at full staff before he’d gotten within a couple miles of her home. Memories alone stirred him to aching arousal. He parked, adjusted his pants to try to hide the telltale bulge. Finally accepting it was futile, he walked to the door. She’d know exactly how thrilled he was to see her. That wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Nervous, he knocked and waited.

  She smiled as she opened the door, and the sight of her nearly drove him mad with desire. As requested, she wore the skimpy black leather dress she’d had on last night. The dark leather was a striking contrast to her pale skin. And the deep plunging neckline showed off delectable cleavage that he ached to explore with fingers and tongue.

  “Hi,” she cooed.

  “Ready?”

  “I’m starving. Dinner first?”

  “Absolutely.” He motioned for her to walk ahead of him.

  The extra-short skirt showed off her long, slim legs to perfection, and hugged her surprisingly round ass, he noted as she turned to close the front door then brushed past him toward the car.

  Licking his lips and wishing he were licking that ass, he followed her, shut her car door, then went around to the driver’s side and took his seat. “We can do one of two things, and I’ll leave it up to you. I have no preference.” He glanced her way, and immediately doubted his ability to concentrate on driving. “I don’t want to look like a cheapskate, but I’d like some privacy. So, either we can go get something takeout from a nice restaurant and go back to the house and eat, or we can go inside and eat at the restaurant of your choice. You decide.”

  She chuckled. “You made that decision easy by asking me to wear this. I might not mind being dressed like this at a BDSM nightclub, but I wouldn’t want to wear it at a five-star restaurant.”

  He nearly slapped himself upside his head. “I should have thought of that. I swear it was an honest oversight. Would you rather go inside and change? You can bring that along for later.”

  Her cheeks turned a sexy shade of pink and his balls tightened. He couldn’t wait to see more of that flush on her neck, chest…lower…

  “Oh, that’s okay. I vote for carryout. How about steak?”

  “Sounds perfect. I’m always game for a nice rare hunk of meat.”

  “Me, too.”

  He peered her way and caught a playful smile. His drawers grew instantly snug, and he thanked whatever god was responsible for the blessing sitting next to him. Then he pulled out of her driveway, and chattering about nothing and everything, drove to the steakhouse. After parking, calling in the order from his cell phone, he shifted his body to face her.

  It would be so easy to give in to the other hunger. The one that wasn’t housed in his stomach. The one that was scorching him from the inside out. No doubt about it, tonight would be sheer torture—good torture, but extremely uncomfortable nonetheless.

  The coy smile had vanished from Britt’s face, replaced by a shy, nervous one. “This is so awkward.”

  “Just be yourself, Britt. No need to be nervous.” He reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Tonight I just want to focus on getting to know you.”

  Relief softened her formerly tense expression and her eyes widened, making her look so painfully innocent and trusting he wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her to him. “Really?”

  “Did you assume we’d skip the beginning part and just go for the other stuff?”

  She lifted her free hand and pulled at a lock of hair fluttering across her face on a breeze. She tucked it behind her ear. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. We didn’t really talk about it last night.”

  “My fault. I should have been more specific.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal. I know now, so we can go from here and just see what happens.”

  “Good.” I know what I’d like to happen. “So, why don’t you tell me more about yourself. Thanks to the closing paperwork, I know a few basic facts about you, but I’d like to know more.”

  “Like what?” Pulling at the hem of her skirt, she crossed her legs. Her thighs were trim and firm. Absolutely perfect. His palm itched to slide over the satiny skin.

  “Like do you work out? You look very fit.”

  “I do, but not as often as I should. Maybe a couple of times a week. In between, I try to watch what I eat. Follow my own version of the low-carb diet.”

  Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. “You will eat tonight, won’t you?”

  “Oh! Absolutely!” She smiled and he suppressed a sigh. Her eyes glittered like diamonds. Her whole face lit up. She was a glorious sight. “I never let a good steak dinner go to waste. Meat, potatoes, bread. I won’t leave a bit of it for the dogs.”

  “Good. I like to see a woman who’s not afraid to eat in front of a man. No need to pretend. I want you to be yourself.”

  “In that case, how about ordering some dessert, too? I love that brownie-ice cream thingy they make here. It’s sinful.”

  Sinful, like you are in that dress. “Glad to.” Sporting a huge hard-on, and not wanting to walk into the restaurant and show everyone what he had on his mind, he called in the dessert order with his cell phone.

  Seconds later, a waitress carted a large brown bag out to their car, handed it to Andre through the car window, and returned inside with Andre’s cash payment tucked in her apron pocket. Andre, drooling both because of the scent of the food and the sight of the gorgeous woman sitting beside him, drove the few miles to his place. Then he parked, grabbed the bag, opened Britt’s car door and ushered her to his front door, his gaze straying to her ass every chance it could. He tripped over a porch step and bumped into her back, and he had to fight the urge to drop the food, grab her body and press her firmly against him.

  But he didn’t do it.

  Proud of himself for maintaining control, he reached around her, slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

  She stepped inside and glanced around the living room. “You painted. It looks very nice. And the wood floors. Wow! Did you install new ones?”

  “Oh no, these are the original floors. I sanded and refinished them.”

  “Really? I’d never have thought they could look this great.” She smiled up at him and he returned the warm expression with one of his own.

  He carried the bag to the dining room and set it on the table. “I’m glad you approve. I have a lot of plans for this house,” he added honestly while not going into detail about what kind of plans he was referring to. It was much too soon to tell her all that he wished for the home—including who might inhabit it.

  “You’ve done so much already. More than I did owning it for six years. My poor grandfather. It was too much for him to handle the last few years he and my grandmother lived here. But I have no excuse really. It sounds silly, but I didn’t want to fix it up until after they were gone. I felt guilty. Like I was somehow hurting them by updating.”

  “It’s different for me. You have memories tied to this place. I don’t. Plus, I have friends in the trades who owe me favors.” He walked into the kitchen for plates, glasses and other necessities.

  “My gosh! Look at this kitchen. Is this the same house?” Britt exclaimed from behind him as she halted in the doorway. “It’s…wow…like a showroom.”

  “You aren’t upset, are you?” His hands full, he turned to face
her, embarrassed by the obvious appreciation—nearing awe—he found on her face. “Well, I didn’t do it by myself. Like I said, I have some extremely skilled friends.”

  “Are you kidding? No, I’m not upset. It’s gorgeous. Are those cabinets solid cherry?” She stepped inside and softly stroked a door, and he nearly wilted as he imagined her touching him like that.

  “Yep.”

  “And is this a real granite counter?” Her hand dropped to the cool, smooth stone counter. Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips as her hand ran over the counter’s surface in long, slow strokes.

  Gimme some ice. I’m in meltdown! “It is. My buddy works at a stone yard. So you like it? Be honest.”

  She took the glasses and wine from him and returned to the dining room, setting them on the dining table. “Very much. Believe me, I had no emotional attachment to the laminated stock cabinets and cheap plastic counters I put in. Yes, I’m very impressed by what you’ve done so far. I just wish I could have done as well.”

  He followed her on wobbly legs. “You did the best you could. Don’t beat yourself up over it. This place wouldn’t look like this if I didn’t have friends to help. If I’d had to pay retail and labor for all this stuff, I’d have never been able to afford it,” he lied. The last thing he wanted her to feel was guilt for not being able to afford the latest and greatest just because he could.

  “Can I borrow those friends of yours sometime? My new place isn’t in a shambles, but there are a few projects I wanted to tackle.”

  There’s no chance I’m letting any of my beer-swilling buddies near you. They’re animals. “Sure! What do you need? I’m fairly handy when it comes to small projects. I have my own Dewalt, too.”

  She giggled, the sound so charming and erotic, he wanted to say something silly just to hear it again. “Oh, yeah. That.”

  He handed her a plate and silverware and then pulled out the foam packages from the restaurant’s paper bag. He put the dessert in the freezer for safekeeping then set one large container next to her plate. “A guy would have to be nuts not to appreciate a woman with her own power tools.”

  Clearly fighting another blush but losing the battle, she rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t have bragged. I only use it to hang pictures, assemble furniture, stuff like that. I’m sure it’s more power than I need.”

  He paused after flipping the top of his container open. “That depends on what kind of power you’re talking about,” shot out of his mouth before he could stop it. He loved the game of double entendre, and he suspected Britt would be better than average at keeping up with him. Her mind was razor-sharp.

  Eager to see if she’d gotten his message, he glanced at her.

  Yep. She had. Her wide-eyed, shocked semi-smile said it all.

  Eager to hear her comeback, he swallowed an apology and went back to unpacking his steak and potato.

  “I thought you liked to be the Dom,” she said in a low, sexy voice that sent shudders up and down his spine. “I may not know anything about this bondage and submission stuff yet, but I thought the whole idea was for the sub to be powerless.”

  He cut up his potato and dabbed on some sour cream then added salt. “You see, that’s where you’re mistaken. The sub actually has plenty of power. Are you intrigued?” He lifted his gaze to her face.

  “Yes.”

  “Later.”

  Her shoulders dropped. “You’re a tease.”

  “I’ve been called worse.” He took a bite of his steak. “How’s your dinner?”

  “Delicious. So tell me, how did you get into this bondage stuff?”

  He swallowed. “There are different levels, from casual—like lovers who tie each other up on occasion—to serious, people whose lifestyles are fashioned around it. I tend toward the more casual side, although I have a decent collection of equipment for someone who isn’t living it twenty-four, seven.”

  Her fork halted midair. “Really? Will you show me?”

  “Later. You’re impatient, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, that’s one of my biggest weaknesses. Very impatient.”

  “Interesting.” He imagined the games he could play to take full advantage of her admitted shortfall and his cock swelled even more.

  “What about you? I hate to admit a deep, dark, dirty secret and not know one about you.”

  “That was deep and dark? I think you could do better than that.”

  “Well, it’s all you’re getting for now. Your turn.”

  “Hmmm… I don’t think you’re ready to hear about the darkest, dirtiest…yet.”

  “Chicken,” she teased, parting her lips and sliding a piece of meat into her mouth. They closed over the fork, the corners lifting into a flirty smile.

  “Oh, no. I’m no chicken. Just don’t want to scare you off.”

  She pulled the fork out and chewed, her gaze fixed to his. He enjoyed the way she looked in his eyes. Confident, attentive. “You haven’t scared me off yet. What could be so bad?”

  “Nothing. As far as weaknesses go, I’d say I tend to be very stubborn. Once I make my mind up on something, it’s practically impossible to change it.”

  She nodded and took another bite of her steak, chewing and swallowing before saying, “I’m beginning to see that.”

  “What else do you see?”

  “A man who knows what he wants and goes for it. You saw my house once and we closed only a couple weeks later. I’ve never seen a real estate transaction go that quickly.” She paused a moment and her eyebrows dropped. “And I think you’re a man with a lot of secrets.”

  “Me? No. I’m a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy.”

  She chuckled. “Liar.” Leaning back and setting her fork and knife on her plate, she added, “I’ve had enough of this steak. It was delicious.”

  He glanced down at her dish. “You’ve only eaten a couple of bites.”

  “Want to save room for dessert.”

  “Fair enough. Do you want to take this home?” He stood and lifted both their plates.

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  “Be right back.” He wrapped their dinners and put them in the refrigerator then brought out the ice cream along with one spoon. He didn’t miss her gaze as it locked on his hands.

  “Only one spoon? You aren’t going to make me eat that whole thing, are you?”

  “No way.” He set the dessert in front of her then carried his chair around the table and set it next to hers. “We’ll share. I’ll feed you.” He lifted the spoon, scooped a bit of the white fluffy whipped cream off the side and put it in front of her mouth, breathlessly watching it open and close around the utensil. A tiny bit of white clung to her lip until she licked it away.

  “Mmmm…” She closed her eyes, visibly relishing the taste. “So sweet and creamy.”

  Setting down the spoon, he plucked the cherry off the top, holding it by the stem, and ran it along the seam of her lips. They opened and her tongue slid out and swirled around and around. His heartbeat flew into double time and his cock throbbed.

  Then she drew the cherry into her mouth slowly and opened her eyes. “I love cherries.”

  “So do I.” He gave the stem a sharp tug until it pulled from the fruit trapped behind her teeth and dropped it on the table.

  “Let me share.” She leaned closer and pressed her mouth against his. He slipped his tongue out to taste her closed lips and then she opened them and sucked his tongue into her mouth, welcoming it into the sweet depth.

  He found the cherry and drew it into his mouth, biting down to release a flood of sweet juices before opening to welcome her tongue inside. He moaned as her tongue stroked his, slowly swirling. His eyelids grew heavy. His balls grew tight. His heartbeat pounded in his head.

  The taste of cherries, the soft scent of perfume, and the sound of her breathing intoxicated him. Quickly, his defenses crumbled, and he reached forward, his hands gripping the soft flesh of her breasts under her snug leather dress. A fingertip slid over the leather, cat
ching the feel of a taut nipple lying below it.

  She moaned in his mouth, the sound urging him on. One hand found the deep slitted V of her dress and slid inside. No bra! Still kissing her, he groaned at the feel of soft skin under his palm and eagerly sought her nipple. When he found it, he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, and her mouth still working over his, she gasped and finally broke the kiss to drop her head back and expose the long column of her neck.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  He traced the line of muscle and tendon down her neck with his tongue, then nibbled where the collarbone met the neck, and she shrugged her shoulders and giggled.

  “That tickles. I’m getting goose bumps.”

  “Good.” He pinched her nipple harder and she gasped.

  “Oh!”

  “Do you like that?” He rolled it again between his finger and thumb. “A little bit of pain, a lot of pleasure.”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly, pushing her chest toward him. “More.”

  His tongue trailed lower between the crest of her breasts before he pulled the leather aside to expose the nipple he’d been teasing. Deep pink, erect, it beckoned him, but he resisted the urge to taste it. Instead he blew a soft stream of air on it and fought for control of his raging urge to fuck. “Your breasts are absolutely perfect.” Then he felt her hand massaging his cock through his clothes, and his self-control snapped. Blind with need, he pulled her arms until she was sitting on his lap, her legs on either side of his hips. Her pussy ground into his cock, through layers of clothes, and he gritted his teeth, anxious for release.

  He slid his hands around her back and dropped them to her ass, which had become conveniently exposed as her dress bunched up around her waist. She wore a thong. His fingers eagerly followed the line of velvet from her hips down between two firm, luscious ass cheeks.

  Tense and frustrated because he couldn’t allow himself the relief his entire body sought, he squeezed the flesh under his hands as his tongue drew circles round her pebbled nipple.

  She moaned, the sound a sweet melody in his ears, as he pulled her nipple into his mouth and suckled. “Oh, yes!” she whispered, rocking her pelvis and grinding her pussy. “Oh, Andre. Yes. Fuck me.”