Beg Me
Scarlett Sanderson
Tessa fantasizes about being tied up and tantalized with pleasure. She longs for a man to take control, to drive her wild with lust. But she’s never been able to let go and indulge in her most taboo desires.
The second Jared sees Tessa, he wants her. Her fierce intelligence and repressed sensuality call to him, make him burn with a passion he hasn’t felt in years.
Jared offers Tessa a deal—for a month, they’ll play a game of dominance and submission. He’ll make her beg, make her moan, make her come harder and faster than she ever has before. In return? He just wants great sex. No strings attached. But when he can’t get enough of Tessa’s scent, her taste, her touch, he realizes what he really wants is her love.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Beg Me
ISBN 9781419936586
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Beg Me Copyright © 2011 Scarlett Sanderson
Edited by Carrie Jackson
Cover design by Syneca
Photography: Romancenovelcovers.com
Electronic book publication November 2011
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Beg Me
Scarlett Sanderson
Dedication
For K. You are always my inspiration. I love you.
Chapter One
“Do you need a Master, little girl? I can be the one to own you.”
Tessa turned, facing the man who spoke the words. He was about the same age as her. His blond hair fell in perfectly shaped bangs around his face. His dark eyes flashed with sparks of interest.
She raked her gaze over the rest of him. Tall, lean and tanned, he wore leather pants laced at the sides. They rode low on his hips and cupped an impressive bulge at the crotch. A leather waistcoat covered his bare, waxed chest.
Her body heated. A soft throb beat in her pussy. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
He grinned, flashed a set of perfectly whitened teeth. “I can be your little boy if you prefer.”
A shiver of desire and trepidation ran down her spine. “No, thanks.”
The man shrugged. “Your loss. Let me know if you change your mind.” He moved into the crowd, lost in the throng of people.
Sending up a silent thank you to whatever gods listened, Tessa found a quiet corner booth and sat down. Inferno was the latest in a series of BDSM clubs opening up in the area, catering specifically to high-class clientele.
Not usually a place she’d visit but Tessa had been curious. In all her sexual relationships, something had been missing. She’d always been curious about BDSM, she even admitted it to her fiancé back in college only to be told she was “abnormal”. After that disastrous experience, she’d pushed her desires to the back of her mind. Part of her reason for becoming a sex therapist was to help others who were having problems. Maybe then she could come to terms with her own needs.
In reality, she buried herself in her work and other people’s problems. She didn’t know if the club would help. The pounding beat intensified her nerves, made her wonder if she should be there, if she’d made the wrong decision.
In one of her sessions, a female patient had described the thrill of being a submissive to a Dominant Master. The description sent a buzz zinging through her, a feeling she rarely experienced. While the woman talked, describing intimate details of having clamps attached to her nipples and clit, Tessa’s body burned. Her pussy became slick, her own nipples beaded as she imagined sharp teeth biting into the delicate flesh.
It had occurred to her that maybe she needed that kind of relationship. Maybe she needed to be submissive. To her analytical mind, it made sense. Every day she experienced control—she was always the dominant personality. Her darkest sexual desires involved relinquishing some of that tightly held control to someone else.
To a Master.
Every time she thought about it, feelings of guilt arose. Maybe her ex-fiancé had been right. Wanting to be beaten and tied up wasn’t normal.
Taking her own advice, she’d pushed aside her fears and researched informal BDSM gatherings—“munches”, she'd learned they were called—and clubs in the area.
She’d taken weeks to work up the courage and now that she was here, Tessa hadn’t a clue what to do.
Various people milled around in different types of BDSM outfits. Many were subtle in their choices. Some were bolder, wearing their fetish like a badge. The heavy beat of sensual music thudded, throbbing in time with the crowd on the dance floor. Scents of alcohol, cologne and the musk of people packed together in a small space filled the air. Wearing a tailored black pencil skirt, slightly heeled boots and a black cotton shirt, Tessa stuck out like a sore thumb.
A blonde waitress stopped next to her table. “You want a drink, honey?”
She smiled at the young woman. At a guess, the girl was in her early twenties. Most likely a college student earning extra cash. The outfit she wore was, unsurprisingly, leather—a revealing black bustier and an obscenely short skirt. Her shoes, thigh-high latex without a heel. Sexy yet practical.
“Vodka, no ice.” She’d be grateful for something to hold, something that would soothe her nerves.
When the waitress smiled back, the knot of tension in Tessa’s stomach eased just a little. “First time?”
“Is it that obvious?” A blush rose in Tessa’s cheeks as the blonde laughed, and she tugged at the corner of her sleeve, rolling her eyes to hide her embarrassment. “I think I’m a little overdressed.”
“You look fine. Although a bit more leather would be perfect.” Winking, the waitress turned and headed back into the crowd, drink tray raised over her head. She wound her body perfectly through the throng of people. With a slight turn of her hip, she avoided any wandering hands.
Did she indulge in the pleasures of the club? She certainly looked the part.
Smiling, Tessa turned her attention back to the crowd. What would it take to get up and mingle? About another ten shots of vodka. Maybe more.
More of a voyeur than a participant, she drummed her fingernails on the table. So this was the kind of place where she could explore her submissive fantasies?
The night was not turning out as she’d expected. Then again, she hadn’t really known what to expect. Except for the leather. Leather was pretty much a given.
“One v
odka. No ice.” The waitress set Tessa’s drink on a napkin and gave her a dazzling smile. “Enjoy. And relax. They don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.”
Tessa laughed. “Thanks, I’ll remember that.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out enough money to cover the drink and a generous tip. After all, the girl had been the first friendly face in the club.
Taking a sip of the cool alcohol, she let the vodka burn a pleasant path from her palate to her stomach and glanced up. Her heartbeat quickened as Mister Perfect White Teeth sidled up. He eased himself into the booth beside her. His spicy, citrus cologne wrapped itself around her, bled into her pores.
“You look lonely.”
Despite her attraction, she wanted to get up and walk away. She’d expected to observe, get used to the environment. She didn’t expect to get hit on, not on her first visit.
“I’m fine.” She flashed him a small smile. “Thank you.”
White Teeth held out his hand. “I’m Karl.”
“Tessa.” She slipped her hand into his, shook.
He had a strong handshake. She noted the veins running along his skin, signs he worked out. An image of him slapping that hand against her ass flashed into her mind. She shifted in her seat.
“So, why are you here, Tessa? Are you looking to play?”
Panic bubbled to the surface. Was she? Had she come here looking for precisely that? Best thing was to be honest.
She looked into his dark eyes. “You’re straight to the point.”
“First time?”
Was it that obvious? Did she have “newbie” tattooed on her somewhere? A great neon sign over her head?
She frowned. “Yes, it’s my first time.”
He leaned forward, brushed a strand of hair off her face. “Submissive or Dominant?”
“Submissive. I think.” Maybe, who knew? That’s what she was here to find out.
“Okay. I’m going to ask you a question now, and I want you think about it.”
She nodded. Intrigue and confusion lodged in her throat.
“If you are not sure, how about we try a little experiment? They offer some cornered-off booths here, nothing too private.” He laughed. “It’s not that kind of club. But they have some spanking equipment, some restraints. Other stuff, if you are interested. Are you interested in spanking?”
Her whole body tightened. Her slit bloomed. Desire beat a steady path from the pit of her stomach to her clit, setting her nerves on edge. Her mouth watered and she licked her lips. Oh yes. Spanking definitely interested her.
Tessa nodded.
“We could start with that. Go slow. If you don’t like it, just say the word ‘red’ and I’ll stop. You’ll be perfectly safe. There are tons of people around and the bouncers keep a close eye on things. First step is always the hardest. You won’t know until you try.”
He was right. She’d come here looking to push past her boundaries. Maybe a spanking was exactly what she needed.
Her cunt clenched, swelled. She could feel the wet patch soaking her panties.
It might be easier with a stranger. No awkward moments later. She could get her spanking and move on. No attachments. No humiliation. Where was the harm? She was a grown woman seeking sexual bliss.
Slipping her hand in his, she let Karl navigate toward the private rooms. Her heart hammered. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry and parched.
This was it. After this, she’d know once and for all if she really was a submissive.
The rooms had no doors—they were large roped-off, cave-like crevices at the back of the club. People could see in and the occupants could see out. She’d read about them online. No one was allowed to have penetrative sex.
A few were occupied but Tessa kept her eyes averted. Although some rooms had spectators, she couldn’t be party to someone else’s pleasure. It just seemed rude.
“Stop.” Karl gently tapped her hand.
He nodded to a room to their right but she shook her head.
“Look, Tessa. Just take a look. I can assure you they enjoy people watching them.”
With his gentle persuasion, she glanced into the room. A woman lay spread-eagle on a wooden table, strapped down with leather restraints crisscrossing her body. A man stood over her, running the tails of a flogger over her bare pussy. Her legs quivered. She moaned as the man lifted the flogger and brought it down onto her mound with one sharp, quick flick.
Tessa’s body tensed. She felt the sharp sting in her own pussy, followed by a rush of moisture. Her nipples tightened. Her body throbbed, ached to be the woman on the table. What would it feel like to be tied down and used for someone else’s pleasure? Could she handle it?
“See how beautiful that is, Tessa? Her reaction?”
She nodded, mesmerized.
“Come.” He led her away.
In an erotic haze, she didn’t hear the words Karl spoke to the bouncer at the edge of an unoccupied room. He unhooked the rope and chained them in.
“I’ve told him to try and keep people away.” Karl smiled and touched her cheek. “I didn’t think you’d want anyone to watch.”
Thoughtful.
She couldn’t handle that. Not that.
“So.” He gestured to the equipment. Floggers, paddles and whips lined the walls, as did various gags, nipple clamps and restraints. “Restrained?”
Tessa gulped and shook her head. “No.”
“Didn’t think so.” He took her hand once more and led her to a simple stool. “Are you sure, Tessa?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember your safeword?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Karl got down on hands and knees, wrapped his upper body around the stool and stuck his ass in the air. “I want you to kneel like this. The stool will give you some support.”
She blinked. Anticipation coiled in her belly. Fear beat in the back of her throat, speeding up her pulse. She felt sick. She felt hot and needy and nervous.
She inhaled.
Okay. She could do this.
She knelt, assumed the same position he had. The cool, tiled floor hurt her knees. She pressed her cheek against the wooden stool. She faced the club, watched patrons dancing in the distance, heard their laughter and the music.
She focused on slowing her racing heart.
He lifted her skirt, bunched the material at her waist. “Are you ready, Tessa?”
“Yes.”
Smack. Smack.
She gasped. The gentle crack of a paddle on her ass cheeks made her burn. The sharp sting followed by a dull ache. Then again.
Once. Twice. Smack. Smack.
Her pussy pulsed. Her sex swelled. The tiny bundle of nerves between her thighs beat a steady rhythm, begging for relief. Her nerve endings tingled. Her nipples tightened to hard nubs.
“Again?”
“Yes.”
Karl spanked her again and again. She jerked her hips forward and back in between every smack. Her ass was on fire. Her body more alive than it had ever been. She stopped thinking. Couldn’t. Her drenched slit begged for relief.
“Oh you like this. You’re such a dirty girl, Tessa. Dirty. Dirty. Dirty.”
Tessa’s body went cold. Memories raced to the forefront, killing her desire.
“How could you ask me that? How could you ask me to beat you? It’s sick. It’s disgusting. Dirty.”
Panic rushed to the surface. She couldn’t breathe. No longer pleasurable, her ass hurt. Her body ached.
She needed him to stop. How? What was her safeword? Tears slipped down her cheeks.
“Sir, I really think you should stop.”
The pain ceased. She took in a shaky breath and willed herself to relax.
Tessa opened her eyes and stared at a god. About six feet tall, he loomed over her, his face covered with a leather half-mask that revealed more than it concealed. The sensual shape of his lips, the mass of dark-brown hair styled into a choppy, spiky cut, and green eyes that blaze
d with blatant fury.
“And why is that?” Anger laced Karl’s tone.
“Because the lady is sobbing and I’m damned sure they aren’t tears of joy.”
Reaching for courage, Tessa pulled down her skirt and scrambled to her feet. Her cheeks heated. Embarrassment coursed through her body. She had to take back control.
“I’m sorry.” She looked at Karl then at her would-be rescuer. The violence in his eyes tightened things low in her body. “It was my fault. I forgot my safeword. I’m sorry.”
Throwing an apologetic smile at Karl, she dashed into the crowd.
Stupid.
She’d been so fucking stupid coming here and agreeing to a stranger’s request to be spanked.
Now that the situation was over, Tessa felt both foolish and uncomfortable. She should have spoken her safeword rather than play the frightened female. Karl had just surprised her with his phrasing.
A hand curled around her wrist and stilled her escape. She turned and stared into the green eyes of her buff savior. His gaze pierced hers, and the zings she’d felt moments ago burst around her body like firecrackers.
In all the right places.
She got a good look at him. The rest of his body was toned like his shoulders. A lithe, graceful torso rippled into a tapered waist, ending with strong thighs and legs. Despite being in a BDSM club where leather dominated the attire, he wore ripped denim jeans and a tight white T-shirt, his half-mask the only leather adornment.
“You okay? I’m sorry about the asshole.” He moved forward, cradled her hand in his. Gently, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her racing pulse point.
The movement was soothing. Sheer, blissful pleasure slid through her blood. His thumb worked over her skin, creating ribbons of heat. Tessa bit down on her lower lip. She mentally fanned herself and prayed she didn’t melt into a pool of orgasmic harmony.
His thumb moved around and around in a lazy circle. She became mesmerized, watching it dance a pattern on her skin. Those electrifying zings reached an all-time high as her body readied itself for action. Her nipples peaked beneath the fabric of her shirt and moisture pooled between her thighs. She’d been turned on by Karl’s spanking but this was different. A deeper attraction on a base level. The deep-seated need to be fucked by someone stronger than her.
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