Surrender Boxed Set (Surrender Series Volume 1 - 7. BDSM romance with man love, bad boys, and billionaires.)

by Anita Lawless

  His cock nudges into my dripping sex and I let out a long moan as I grip him tight. The dom beneath me sweeps his hot tongue over my clamped clit again and sublime sensations rocket through me until my limbs quiver. As he plunges his penis in deeper, I rock forward, increasing the tension on my nipples and clit. I come right then for the first time, but that doesn’t stop my two lovers from continuing to shower me with attention, with pleasure. I’ve never felt so cherished, so adored, and I realize just how much I’ve given myself over to enjoying this. I’m free and sexy and in complete ecstasy.

  He fucks me slow and sensuous, rocking me to and fro in my swing while my other lover take my clit deep into his mouth and sucks it. He bites the tender bead of flesh, digging the clamps’ teeth in deep, and I shriek and shiver in my bonds.

  The dom’s cock strokes my g-spot perfectly. There’s a wonderful curve to his sleek, thick shaft that makes the glans bump and rub this bean-shaped area just right. Along with the dom beneath me licking and sucking my clit, it isn’t long before I tremble in the throes of another climax. I shake and scream, making the swing rock harder. My nipples are pulled until they burn and the tension screams through my clit. Soon I feel my juices squirt out of me with his deepest thrust. The force of this orgasm leaves me panting and limp in my tethers.

  And just as I’m emerging from my fog of satisfaction, a gunshot rips through my enjoyment and people in the crowd scream.

  I see David go to leave the stage as he tells his clients to “Keep calm. Everything will be all right,” in an authoritative tone meant to reassure. He casts me and Damien an angry look and I shout for Damien to untie me. He does so quickly, then dashes toward where David leaves the stage. I know he’s in a hurry to distract him in case Gina is still in David’s office, snooping for clues.

  My heart thunders in my ears and I fear Gina is in danger. Has she been shot? Did she shoot someone? Damien follows after David after tucking himself back into his leather shorts. I tug on the discarded cat suit as quickly as I can and move toward the office, in the same direction as the two men.

  Inside we find a fallen Gina. She’s been shot in the shoulder, but that doesn’t stop her quick thinking. When David questions her, she manages to say, “I found someone trying to get in your safe. They shot me before I could draw my gun. Took off before I got a good look at them.”

  David goes to call the paramedics and Damien and I go to check on Gina.

  “What really happened?” I ask her, while Damien checks the tourniquet she’s managed to fashion from her work jacket. He adjusts the piece of material, tightening it to cut off the small trickle of blood.

  “I got in here and found a woman going through David’s desk drawers,” she croaks out. “I didn’t get a great look at her, but if I saw her in a lineup she’d be easy to pick out. She stole a file before she shot me and took off.”

  Damien strokes the stubble on his cheek. “That adds another suspect to this whole mess. Shit. This is getting way too complex.”

  Before we can say much else, the paramedics arrive and take Gina to the hospital. Looking at the clock above David’s desk, I note I won’t be getting much sleep before my first class this morning, but concern over Gina makes that the least of my worries. Worry over her and my sister will make it hard to focus on any of my lectures today.

  ***

  I feel like a zombie through most of my classes, and my thoughts keep drifting to Gina and Sasha and worrying over their fate. After my third class, I use the prepaid cell phone Damien gave me to call him and see if there’s been any updates on Gina.

  “They just moved her out of ICU,” he tells me, sounding as relieved as I feel.

  “Do you think it’d be all right if I pop by and see her tonight?”

  “I’d love to tell you yes, but I think we should steer clear. We just can’t be sure about David’s involvement still, and he could be watching the room.”

  “Any idea when she’ll be out?”

  “Not yet, but if I know Gina she’ll walk out of that place if they try and keep her for more than three days.”

  “So what’s our next move then?” I check my watch only to find I’ve ten minutes to get to my world history class.

  “I’m going to talk to Dmitri and another contact I have inside the Dollhouse Society. Between the four of us, we’ll come up with a plan.”

  “Sounds good. Keep me posted. And thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, Ophelia.”

  There’s a tenderness in his voice that does odd things to my heart. He has an effect on me that’s growing stronger each time we’re together and I’m not comfortable with the development. Why do my emotions have to go against my logic?

  No time to ponder this right now, though. I need to get to my class and push all distracting thoughts from my head. Easier said than done.

  The next few days seem to crawl by, and I feel like I’m only half there through most of my classes. Neither Damien or I have received any more calls from Sasha, and while Gina has been let out of the hospital she isn’t yet ready to get back to the investigations, despite her protests we’re babying her.

  So Damien has enlisted extra help from one of the board members who owns Surrender, this exclusive sex club / resort franchise he and my sister worked for. A franchise that caters to elites with esoteric appetites and anyone who can pay their entry price, plus prove their sexual and mental health. And as another weekend draws near, he phones to inform me we have a meeting with this board member, a Dmitri Nichvalodov, as well as with a Devon Grayson, the member of another secret organization known as the Dollhouse Society. We’re going to team up on a plan to ferret out the kidnapper and bring my sister home. Though Dmitri has already been investigating this matter with other Surrender top echelon, they now want to take the investigation in a different direction.

  I’ve also been avoiding poor Terry, my best friend, since she got back from her camping trip. After my last class on Thursday, I meet her at our favorite coffee shop. My stomach’s in knots as I plan ways to avoid her questions. Terry is a vivacious brunette who doesn’t give up on a subject easily once she sinks her teeth into it.

  “So who’s the guy?”

  She grins at me as I look up from my loose tea. I realize I’m been watching tea leaves float to the bottom of my cup for the last few minutes. When I take a sip, the steaming brew has already gone tepid.

  “There’s no guy. Just … stressed over my paper for classic archaeology.”

  No, that’s a different look.”

  I give her a curious frown.

  “When you’re stressed over school. That’s a different look. But this one? You wore that same expression for a week when you met Jeremy.”

  The memory of my brief fling with a college basketball star makes me cringe. Jeremy and I were like oil and water, and when the sex fizzled out we realized just how wrong we were for each other. “Please, don’t remind me about him. No, it’s nothing like that, really. Just school.”

  She shakes a well manicured finger at me. “I don’t believe you. But I’ll let it go. Whoever he is, he better be worth it though. You haven’t heard a word of the juicy gossip I’ve been spilling.”

  I force a laugh at this. “I’ll try and pay attention better.”

  I hate keeping such huge secrets from Terry, but as Damien and I discussed it’s better that less people know the truth right now. With Drake sniffing around the campus, there is no way to tell who might be keeping an eye on me for him. A careless word spilled to the wrong person could blow our careful operation, and while Terry is a wonderful person she can’t keep a secret to save her life.

  So I work hard to focus as she tells me all about Regina Barker’s affair with our history teacher. But thoughts of my sister and Gina keep trying to force their way in, and other thoughts that, in some ways, disturb me even more. The thought of Damien’s hands on my body, caressing, stroking, cherishing me. The thought of his cock inside me and the ecstasy I felt last night. And I
realize, despite my hard work to resist the man’s charms, I want to scene with him again. Want to make love with him again.

  When I take a sip of my tea, I almost choke as this truth hits me full force. I knew spending time with him would be dangerous. Dangerous to my heart as well as my health.

  ***

  Damien arrives at the dorm Friday night to pick me up for our meeting and I don’t want to look at him. Especially after what we did last time we were together. I’ve played the scenes over and over in my head, masturbated too many times to count to the memory of him whipping me then fucking me. My face feels scalded from the blush that creeps up to my hairline.

  “Are you all right?” he asks after I put my seatbelt on. “You’re awfully quiet.” Then to make matters worse he puts his hand on my knee, leans closer, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. We’ll find Sasha before Sunday. I guarantee it. And whoever has her will pay big time. I promise.”

  My whole body tingles and grows warm from his touch. I want to move his hand away, but I don’t. The comforting gesture, the security and intimacy, is just what I want right now. I hate myself for being so weak.

  “I’m fine,” I tell him. “I just had a lot of papers to hand in this week. Big time cramming at the library has made me really tired.”

  He accepts this, but the way he continues to stare at me as he turns the key in the ignition tells me he’s not convinced. And there’s too much compassion in those brilliant blue eyes, too much kindness. Why can’t he be the arrogant asshole I remember and make this so much easier on me?

  “Ready to go?” he says.

  “Ready.” I stifle a sigh and try to keep my chaotic mind under control.

  As we pull off the campus grounds, I turn to him and blurt, “Why did you and Sasha break up?”

  His face sags under the weight of sadness. “We spent too much time together. Working and living with one another 24 /7. I think it eventually killed our relationship. Sasha felt like she didn’t have enough breathing space, and I understood that. We’re still good friends, but that something special—that spark—just kind of dried up over time.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  He glances away from the road to gaze at me. The sadness still lingers on his face. “I’ll always love her. We spent three years barely out of each other’s sight. But loves changes sometimes. Our love did and we’ve both moved on.”

  But I wonder. Will my sister and Damien reunite after she returns? Maybe he’ll tell her he wants her back, and maybe she’ll want him back. Though it’s a terribly selfish thought, I hope they don’t rekindle their romance. I try to picture Damien with Sasha and a surge of jealousy sours my stomach. What’s happening to me? I’m losing my head over a guy I used to hate and right when my sister’s life is in danger. Right now I wish I could bolt from the car. Run and get some breathing space, but there’s no chance of that. Instead I push my conflicting thoughts to the back of my brain and refuse to acknowledge them. I focus on a vision of my sister’s face and try not to look at Damien for the remainder of the ride to our meeting.

  Our trip takes us into the richest part of the city, and eventually we stop at a very expensive, exclusive business district. A doorman buzzes us in and we take an elevator up to the office of Dmitri Nichvaldov.

  Inside the lavish office filled with polished wood and leather, a blond man with model good looks sits near one side of a massive oak desk that appears to be antique. Behind the desk sits a bear of a man with a long, blue-black braid trailing down his back. I thought Damien was intimidating, but these two men ooze an air of power and confidence that would render a more timid woman speechless. As it is I fumble my hello to them both when Damien introduces me.

  Devon takes my hand and kisses it. “Charmed, my dear.”

  His big friend, whose face clearly shows his Russian heritage, smirks at him. “Please, Ophelia, have a seat.” My hand disappears in his when he shakes it.

  Then the mood in the room gets extra serious. Dmitri pulls some folders from a drawer in his massive desk.

  “We’d like to try a different tactic inside Sasha’s Surrender resort this weekend.” He crosses his hands atop the folders. “We think the woman who shot Gina will be at the Surrender Spring Ball scheduled to happen there tomorrow night.” He taps the folders under his beefy paws. “We also believe Drake and David could attempt to get in. In fact, we’re loosening security because of it.”

  “Loosening security?” My gaze ping pongs between the three men.

  “Yes,” Devon speaks, his voice like warm honey. “We want them to walk right into our trap. Which brings us to your part in this plan.”

  My palms start to sweat and I look at Damien.

  “We need you to do one last performance,” he says. “At the Surrender Spring Ball tomorrow night. But this time it’ll be a masked event, so you’ll be a bit more anonymous.”

  “I’ll do it,” I say.

  Damien’s eyes grow wide in surprise over my quick answer. “This will be the last time, I promise. And you can keep your costume on if you choose.”

  I nod. “That’s fine.”

  His eyebrows rise. “You’re sure?”

  “Completely.”

  My lack of hesitation obviously continues to shock him, but I offer no further explanation before Dmitri opens the folders to show me the latest development in this case. I won’t tell Damien I’m looking forward to this performance, looking forward to his hands caressing my skin, his lips on mine. And what I really won’t tell him is I’m disappointed it will be our final time together.

  ***

  We pull up to the wrought iron gates of the Surrender resort and I take Damien’s hand in mine. Tonight, with a full moon hovering overhead, the gothic stone mansion looks a bit eerie. The foreboding atmosphere matches my mood of apprehension. Tonight is crunch time. We haven’t received another call from Sasha and I know we’re both worried about her fate.

  “You okay?” Damien gives me a concerned look that warms my heart.

  “I’ll be fine,” I say, knowing that I’ll never be the same after this time spent with him.

  Sure he’s arrogant, smug, but being close to him while trying to help Sasha has shown me another side to Damien Walters. A compassionate side I didn’t think he had. As the layers of his personality have been revealed to me, I’ve found it hard not to like the man. Maybe even love him.

  Love in less than a month? You’re being foolish, Ophelia! Get a grip.

  Inside the resort I spot Dmitri and Devon, who’ve come tonight as well to help us with this investigation. They’re wearing leather BDSM gear and masks, but I still recognize their powerful presences and impressive physiques.

  People mill about the huge foyer in leather, latex cat suits, corsets, fishnet stockings. Some participants wear feathered masks, others wear ones that depict jesters, and some wear ones that depict a glittery feline face.

  Damien leads me to a change room where we get dressed for our performance. He wears tight leather shorts and I choose a pink and black Merry Widow with matching thong and fishnet stockings.

  Damien raises his eyebrows at my choice. “You’re going to be exposed in that.”

  I simply smile. “That’s fine.”

  He frowns and places a warm hand between my shoulders. “Is everything okay, Ophelia?”

  I soak in his touch, knowing it will be one of the last times I feel his hands on my skin. “I’m fine.”

  “You seem a bit sad. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  I shake my head and stare into those beautiful blue eyes. “I just want my sister home. That’s all.” I take his hand and lace my fingers with his.

  “All right. I believe you.” He smiles, but still doesn’t look convinced. Then he places a gentle kiss to my forehead before we change.

  He leads me to a room at the end of a long hall lined with doorways. Inside is a sprawling area that reminds me of last winter when Terry and I went to see The Nutcra
cker at Hammond Theater. Red velvet seats line either side of a black aisle. And every seat is filled with a masked spectator. I close my eyes and swallow hard, trying to quell the panic burning in my chest.

  We walk from backstage to the main platform and Damien signals a man to open the crimson curtains. On the stage stands a gleaming structure that reminds me of a giant loom with royal blue rope dangling from it. Damien tells me the rope is made from hemp, which is better since there is less chafing.

  “Exactly what do you plan to do with me and that rope?” I whisper as he guides me toward the apparatus and between the braids of hemp.

  “I’m going to bind you in the center of this.” He taps one silver leg of the giant loom. “Then we’re going to do some orgasm denial play. Remember? We agreed to this in Dmitri’s office.”

  I nod, but I had other things on my mind at that moment. Particularly a naughty fantasy about all three doms, but I don’t tell Damien that.

  “If you aren’t comfortable with what I’m doing, you can always use our safe word.” Damien’s rock hard chest brushes against my back as he picks up one strand of rope.

  I breathe deep, look out at the sea of faces, and am thankful for the mask obscuring my identity. Still a sharp spike of anxiety zips from my stomach to my brain, seems to squeeze my head in a fierce grip of panic. But I keep breathing and remind myself they don’t know who I am. Not really.

  To help calm my nerves further, I focus on Damien’s touch as he loops the first rope between my legs. It doesn’t help my nerves when his fingers and the fibers press tight against the flimsy front of my thong. The material abrades my already tingling clit and his hand flits ever so lightly against it as he fashions knots that intertwine. I have to bite my lip to keep from sighing, for I’m not allowed to make any noise of pleasure until my dom allows it.

  Everywhere he touches me feels on fire. His fingers move in a flurry as he adds more ropes and connects more knots. As he does so, he tells me that the ropes and knots are tied in such a way to accentuate the beauty of my body, and to hit pressure points that will keep me calm, soothe me through the process. Dmitri apparently taught him about these rope art techniques that are a part of Kinbaku—a form of Japanese bondage.