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First Taste: A Collection of Hot Alpha Doms

Page 12

by Sidney Bristol


  He held her as she drifted to sleep. He loved the feel of her in his arms; she felt so right tucked next to him. For a long time, he believed that he would never find love. He found plenty of female submissives to dominate, but not one that he wanted to spend his life with … not until Claire.

  For the last couple of years, they’d managed a complex and subtle dance of domination and submission, but now that she was truly his, he could explore the depths of their relationship. His heart squeezed. God, he loved her. The sensation was so new, so beautiful, he couldn’t quite believe it was his to cherish.

  He couldn’t wait to begin her training.

  And apparently, neither could she.

  He climbed the stairs, anticipation thrumming through him.

  Chapter 8

  CLAIRE LAID FLAT against the spanking table. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the dungeon, but she was prepared to wait all night.

  Earlier, she spent a few minutes examining some of the furniture and devices. On one wall were several floggers and whips. She touched them in awe. The leather straps felt soft against her fingertips—and she wondered how they would feel against her flesh.

  Then she’d lit the candles, shut off the light and crawled onto the table.

  She didn’t look in any drawers or in the mysterious trunk that Lucius had rummaged through earlier. She figured looking at what was within sight wouldn’t break any rules, but opening what was closed might get her punished.

  She shuddered in fearful delight.

  The supple leather next to her skin felt wonderful. She could only cuff her ankles, but she knelt on the slat and flattened the rest of her body against the slanted table. She laid there, thinking about Lucius and all the yummy things he could do to her on this table.

  “Claire.”

  Her pulse skittered. Oh, God. He was using his Dom voice—that sexy rasp that demanded everything from her. Her pussy clenched, already wet with anticipation.

  “Hmm. You have a beautiful ass.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  She felt him tighten the cuffs around her ankles. Then he rounded the table and squatted in front of her. Lovingly, he manacled each of her wrists.

  He leaned forward and brushed his knuckles against her temple. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He nodded then he stood up. He was gloriously naked, his cock already at half-mast. He strode away, probably to decide which implement to apply to her bottom.

  She pressed her cheek against the table and closed her eyes.

  A couple minutes later, she felt the tickle of many tiny “fingers” coast across her buttocks.

  “This is a deer flogger,” he said, dragging the falls along her buttocks again. “It gives your flesh a nice thud, but it won’t sting. It’s for low intensity sensation play.”

  The straps suddenly disappeared.

  Wham! She felt the smack of the tails against the middle of her left buttock. She sucked in a startled breath. He smacked her right buttock. He snapped the flogger expertly on each buttock twice more.

  Oh, God. It felt so good.

  She bit her lower lip and pressed her aching pussy against the leather table.

  The falls drifted across her ass and down her thighs. The light touches felt nearly as good as the sudden thuds.

  Wham! Wham! The flogger landed on each of her thighs. Claire moaned, pressing harder against the table. Her nipples stiffened and her entire body tingled.

  The flogger kissed her back, trailing her spine to tickle her shoulders. The tails wiggled down her skin again and the nearly unbearable sensations crawled over her flesh, making her even hotter.

  Wham! He hit one buttock.

  She tightened for the next hit, but it didn’t come. Seconds ticked by. Just as she relaxed—wham! Another thud hit her ass. Lucius didn’t stop. He flogged her faster and harder until she lost her breath and her body quaked at the rapturous assault.

  Claire moaned. Her hips pumped against the table, the leather wet from her primed pussy. Her body hummed with desire, with aching need.

  Lucius flogged her ass again, using the same quick, hard thuds and she felt almost apart from herself, detaching into a place of pleasure so intense, she nearly drowned in it.

  As she floated in this lovely space, Lucius fumbled with her ankle cuffs. She barely felt him rubbed her feet and calves. Her ass felt marvelously sore.

  “Claire.”

  Her eyes flickered open. Lucius unbound her wrists, massaging them. He looked at her with such love, such longing, she felt herself return to Earth.

  “Master.”

  “I know exactly what you need,” he said. “What we both need.”

  He crawled onto the table with her and rolled her onto her back. He covered her, his hard cock sliding between her slick folds, and then he sucked a turgid peak into his warm mouth.

  “Oh!” She arched against him, wrapping her legs around his waist and digging her fingernails into his shoulders. “Please!”

  He suckled her other nipple. Tiny lightning strikes erupted from her breasts to her belly to her weeping cunt. Her hands scraped down his back to his buttocks.

  “I love you, Claire,” said Lucius. His gaze was on hers as he slid his cock inside her.

  “I love you, too.”

  He thrust deeply, his eyes never leaving hers. His hands wrapped around her shoulders as he plunged his cock into her over and over.

  “Lucius!” she screamed as her body plunged into heat and light and delicious bliss. Her orgasm surged over her, stealing her breath and her sight. She held on to him tightly, her nails digging into his ass as she rode the incredible wave.

  “Yes, Claire! I’m coming!” He thrust hard and deep, his cock nearly impaling her womb as his seed spilled.

  They held on to each other, trying to catch their breath and regain control of their wild heartbeats.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Lucius rolled to his side and gathered her close.

  Lucius kissed her. His lips were warm and pliant. He slipped his tongue inside to mate with hers and her body revved up for another round. When he let her up for air, she pressed her fingers against her swollen lips.

  “Will it always be like this?” she asked.

  “No.” Lucius grinned broadly. “It will only get better.”

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  FRISKY SUMMER

  #2 in the Frisky Series

  When Rose Williams takes her older sister’s advice and books an unusual vacation on the Isle of Dark Delights, she finds herself picking a sex partner the same way one picks a lobster at a high-end restaurant.

  David "Dare" O'Rourke is a security officer for the BDSM resort and due to a practical joke, he's tossed into what he loathingly calls “the loverboy cage.” He's not interested in being a nighttime distraction for some girl he’s never met. Yet, when beautiful and shy Rose picks him out of all the muscled meatheads ... he can’t resist her naïve charms.

  For this unlikely pair, this summer will be very, very frisky…

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Michele Bardsley lives in Texas with her husband and their fur babies. When she's not writing steamy paranormal serials about hot shifters and curvy girls, she consumes chocolate, watches "Supernatural," crochets hats, and reads on her Kindle.

  Where to find Michele:

  Website: http://www.michelebardsley.com/

  Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/73A9j

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/michelebardsley

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authormichelebardsley

  Also by Michele Bardsley

  BROKEN HEART VAMPIRE SERIES

  I'm the Vampire, That's Why

  Don't Talk Back To Your Vampire

  Because Your Vampire Said So

  Wait Till Your Vampire Gets Home

  Over My Dead Body

  Come Hell or High Water

  Cross Your Heart
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  Must Love Lycans

  Only Lycans Need Apply

  Broken Heart Tails

  Some Lycan Hot

  You'll Understand When You're Dead

  Lycan on the Edge

  DEED BROTHERS DEMON SERIES

  A Damn Deed

  A Dirty Deed

  A Kind Deed

  A Good Deed

  A True Deed

  FRISKY EROTICA SERIES

  Frisky Business

  Frisky Summer

  Frisky Christmas (November 2015)

  THE PACK RULES

  The Werewolf's Bride

  Taken by the Werewolf Triplets

  The Billionaire Werewolves

  The Werewolf Bodyguard

  Kidnapped by the Werewolf / Her Alpha Mate

  Two Alphas and a Lady

  Bear Witness

  The Dragon's Wife

  WOLVES ON THE PROWL

  A Wild Night

  Wild Threesome

  Blood Wild

  Wild Darkness

  WIZARDS OF NEVERMORE

  Never Again

  Now or Never

  Never Say Die (TBA)

  HOLIDAY BITES

  Holiday Bites Collection #1

  Fireworks for July

  SINGLE TITLES

  Heart of Magic

  Love Gone Wild

  THE REAPER DIARIES

  (writing as Michele Vail)

  Undeadly

  Unchosen

  Unbroken (TBA)

  Return to Table of Contents

  PICTURE HER BOUND

  SIDNEY BRISTOL

  WEBSITE | MAILING LIST

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  Picture Her Bound

  Bayou Bound, Book One

  Officer Odalia Foucheaux is a desperate woman. Incriminating photographs of her after-hours job as a fetish model have been stolen, and she's willing to break rules to get them back. Standing in her way? The very dominant bounty hunter Jacques Savoy.

  Jacques has been watching out for Officer Foucheaux. He wants her safe from harm as much as he desires her body, her soul—and her submission. Odalia’s in trouble and struggling to walk the line of the law. His solution? Work together to find out who stole her pictures, what the thief wants and how to stop him. And if they find a pleasure unlike any other along the way, well, laissez les bons temps rouler.

  Let the good times roll

  Chapter One

  Odalia Foucheaux pulled her hair up in a messy knot on top of her head and glared at the man strapped to a metal pole in the men’s restroom. Through the windows behind her victim, the lights of New Orleans glittered as another Christmas drew to a close on the bayou. The drunken carousing was in full swing, but tonight it wasn’t her problem.

  Tonight she was just a woman with a gun and a mission she hated more than her worst enemy.

  The sounds of the loud bar echoed through the restroom, disguising the snitch’s babbling.

  Kenny Douglas was a police informant known for caving under pressure. He’d given a lot of bad information over the years, and at least one officer had taken a bullet for this piece of shit’s bad intel.

  “You’re crazy, bitch. Someone, help!” Kenny tried to twist, but the leather belt held him in place. He had a bump on his head, but she hadn’t been able to help that. He was a small man, about five-eight, just her size. Taking him by surprise had been her best option.

  The law-abiding cop in her screamed, revolted by how low she’d sunk. But if she didn’t protect herself, no one would. It was a lesson she’d learned early on in life, but never had it brought her to such a dark place.

  “I’m off the clock, Kenny. This little chat? It’s just between you and me.” Odalia sauntered toward him, hating herself and Kenny for putting her in this position. If she could put it all to rights, she could pretend like this chapter in her life had never happened at all.

  “What do you want?” Sweat poured down Kenny’s brow, and his skin was bright red from the large quantities of alcohol he’d sucked down before going to relieve himself. Idiot hadn’t even realized who’d sent him more drinks through the course of the evening.

  Besides, Odalia had needed the time to talk herself into this. There was no turning back once she’d begun. She’d always followed the rules, kept her nose clean and kept her life outside the uniform quiet. Until now.

  “I’m going to ask you once, Kenny. Who wanted you to steal the camera?” She pushed her leather jacket back over her hips, letting the petty criminal catch a glimpse of the piece she carried. Not her officer-issued gun, she wasn’t stupid.

  “I didn’t steal no camera. You got to believe me,” he wailed.

  Odalia glared at the man. After the camera had turned up missing during a break in the photo shoot, she’d found a jacket with Kenny’s name stitched on the breast. It had been tossed over the barbed-wire fence around the studio her blazing-hot photographer friend had rented for the Christmas Eve shoot. She knew Kenny had been there. And she knew someone must have put him up to stealing the camera. Kenny wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box.

  Which made her wonder, who put him up to it? Who knew about her off-the-clock gig?

  She modeled lingerie, underwear and funky clothing for a couple of small businesses for their websites and advertisements, never showing her face. The work was commercial, but she’d wanted to do something different. Something more artistic, like the Inked photo shoot.

  A local Dominant had asked her to do an artistic BDSM photo shoot, one that touched on that most private aspect of her lifestyle. For anyone else she’d have said no. But there was something about the chocolate-skinned man that got to her. The shoot had been more intense than many play sessions she’d had, and she’d allowed herself to go further than she would have with a new scene partner.

  Her commanding officer wouldn’t understand the kinky nature of the photographs, wouldn’t see them for the beautiful portrayal of bondage and submission that they were.

  She pulled the empty gun from her waistband. Her piece normally gave her comfort, but now it was a dead weight, pulling her down to the ground.

  “Oh fuck.” Kenny thrashed, twisting around the pole, but the belt held him fast.

  “Kenny, I’m not going to ask again.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, crazy bitch!”

  I don’t want to do this. I wish there was another way.

  Odalia shook her head and sighed. “Kenny—”

  Someone pounded on the bathroom door.

  “Hey—” Kenny snapped his teeth together so loud they clicked.

  Odalia lifted the gun and laid a finger over his lips. “Just a second,” she yelled over her shoulder.

  The door burst inward. A man clothed head-to-toe in black barged in and tackled Odalia, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

  She went down hard, grunting as she banged her knee, and the gun slid from her grasp. She knocked the side of her head on the floor, jarring her teeth. The scent of urine, grime and sweat filled her nostrils and her skin crawled, disgust churning her stomach. She kicked and thrashed, but the man was bigger and stronger than her.

  “Don’t fight me, bébé,” a deep, husky voice said.

  Odalia gasped. What the fuck was he doing here?

  “This ain’t the way.” He hoisted her to her feet and grabbed the gun, shoving it in a deep coat pocket.

  “Fils de putain,” she spat and twisted in his hold, but his grip on her arm was like iron.

  “You.” He pointed at Kenny with his free hand. “Don’t utter a word of this. Do you know who I am?”

  Kenny’s complexion resembled a ghost’s on All Hallow’s Eve. He nodded, eyes large. “Bounty hunter. Y-you’re Savoy.”

  “You know who I work with?”

  “B-Bayou Hunters.”

  “A peep outta you and the gators’ll be your best friends,” he drawled, voice low and dangerous. “If I don’t get you, one of my team will.”

 
“Y-yes.” Kenny nodded hard enough that he cracked the back of his head against the metal pole.

  Jacques Savoy turned toward her. His dark complexion communicated tightly wound aggression. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak disrespectfully of my mamma. Now, you’re coming with me, bébé.”

  “No, I am not.”

  Odalia tried to wrench her arm out of his grasp, but the bastard wasn’t letting her go. He dragged her through the drunken crowd of the Bourbon Street bar and out onto the strip, ducking onto a side street at the first opportunity. The entire district around the iconic street was one big party every night of the year, but the side streets were quieter, though no cleaner. She smelled the build-up of refuse over the Christmas holiday, stale beer and other elements she didn’t want to identify.

  “Let. Go. Of. Me.” She kicked the back of his leg and twisted, getting free of his grasp and whirling away.

  Odalia dashed toward the beckoning light of the street, only to be jerked back by her jacket. She threw an elbow and hit his ribs. Her lower arm went numb, and he didn’t so much as grunt.

  “That’s it,” he grumbled and shoved her into the nearest brick wall, pinning her.

  “Fuck you,” she growled and tried to throw her weight against him. She might have been obedient and eager during their photo shoot, but this wasn’t the set, and it wasn’t a dungeon.

  “Take a deep breath and use your fucking head, officer.” He spat the last word.

  Odalia bit her lip. His voice jarred her to clarity. Her body reacted to him despite her resolve not to. He was too potent to resist. She hated whoever had orchestrated the theft. She hated herself for sinking low. And she hated this man for seeing her at her worst.

  Hot tears of rage fell on her cheek. She was powerless, completely helpless after she’d vowed to never again allow herself to be a victim. And here she was. A victim once more.

 

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