WhatHeDemands (domination erotica)

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WhatHeDemands (domination erotica) Page 6

by Tawny Taylor


  “It won’t be easy,” he said. “I’m a stubborn ass sometimes, and I’ve learned some of the issues I have run deep. But I can promise you that I won’t give up. If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a quitter.”

  That I did believe.

  Arms folded over my chest, I studied his handsome face. Would that be the face I would look at someday as I spoke my wedding vows? Or would that be the face of the man who would destroy me? I had a feeling it would be one or the other. I wasn’t sure I had the courage to risk the latter.

  “I need some time to think about it, Shane. We’ve spent so little time together. And what time we’ve spent has either been having sex or fighting. If this goes bad…I don’t want to think what it might do to me.”

  “Fair enough.” He reached for the doorknob, twisted it.

  I set a hand on his arm just as he was about to leave. “I want to be brave for you. I do. I’m just scared.”

  “I’m scared for you.” He reached for me then pulled his hands back as if he felt he didn’t have the right to touch me. “Call me. I won’t badger you.”

  “Thank you.” I stepped up to him, stood on tiptoes, wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him.

  He folded his strong arms around me and held me tightly. “You’re welcome.” He kissed the top of my head.

  Ohhhh. This felt so good, so right. A pleasantly warm feeling of comfort and contentment flashed through me. I felt myself smiling.

  Until he released me. Then I felt sad and lonely.

  “If I don’t leave now…” He lifted a brow. Then he stepped outside.

  I watched him go, my heart pounding in my chest.

  I had a decision to make.

  Already, my heart knew what it wanted.

  I didn’t need time to think it over. Even my subconscious knew what I wanted.

  I was terrified, yes. More scared about facing this next stage in our relationship than I had the first. Because now it wasn’t just a casual thing. It wasn’t just sex or kinky games. It was about feelings, developing a real connection. Building the foundation for something that might last the rest of our lives.

  My heart in my throat, I raced out the front door. I saw Shane’s car. The engine was rumbling. But the headlights were still out. He hadn’t left yet.

  Waving my arms, I barefooted it down the front walk. His door swung open and he was out of the car before I’d run more than a few feet. We met somewhere in the middle. Our bodies smashed together. Then he grabbed my face, sandwiching it between his hands and kissed me.

  Shane was one hell of a kisser. Every kiss he’d given me had sent my mind reeling. But this kiss was different.

  It was a claiming, yes. It was a possession. But it was also a surrender, as if he were surrendering to me, to his need for me.

  While his mouth told me how much he’d missed me, he swept me up into his arms and carried me back to my house. In we went, through the front door. I giggled in our joined mouths as he kicked it shut. He carried me to my bedroom and set me gently on the bed.

  I could count his every breath as he stared at me, he was breathing so hard. His pupils were so wide I could barely see the color of his eyes. His face was flushed.

  He visibly swallowed. “I want…I want to make love to you now.”

  Ohmygod, the way he’d said that, I felt like I might soar to the clouds.

  “Yes,” I said, extending my arms to pull him to me. “Please make love to me.” My hands found the bottom of his shirt. “May I?”

  He nodded, lifted his arms to allow me to pull off his shirt. Then, kneeling upright on the bed, I removed his pants and underwear. For once, he was nude first, exposed to me while I was still dressed. While his domination games made my blood pound hot through my body, I liked this change. I liked seeing him like this. He wanted me. His flushed skin, tense muscles and erection told me that.

  I wrapped my hand around his thickness and teased it, and he closed his eyes and gave a little growling sound. His breathing was rough and fast. So was mine. His erection was hard, a glistening droplet of precome gathered on the tip. My tissues were wet too, my muscles tense, my skin burning.

  “Bristol,” he said on a sigh, reaching for me.

  “Oh, no you don’t. We’re making love. Sometimes the woman gets to make the rules during lovemaking.” Turning the tables on him, I caught his wrists in my fist and held them out to the sides. I was in control this time. Me. But only because he was letting me. And only until I pushed him over the edge and he became too desperate to play along with my game.

  “Lay down,” I told him.

  He reclined back, and I positioned him so his hands were up over his head. What a sight this was. Shane lying before me, his body laid out for my pleasure, only mine. I could lick and taste and tease and torment to my heart’s content.

  But God help me, I wasn’t going to have the patience to do that.

  My gaze meandered over his perfectly formed body. That chest. Sigh. Those abs. Sigh. That…very large erection. Double sigh.

  I kissed my way down the center of his body, from the little notch between his collarbones to his bellybutton. Then, I licked and nipped a little further south, intentionally avoiding any contact with his penis.

  He mumbled. He moaned. He tried to grab me once or twice. But I knocked his hands away, chastising him with a, “No, you don’t.” When I couldn’t take any more, I sat up again, and sighed. And with trembling hands, and Shane’s hot and hungry gaze watching my every move, I removed my clothes, one piece at a time. I made it as far as my bra and panties before he leaped at me, tackled me to the bed, and growled, “Enough, minx.” He plunged into my slick heat.

  How perfectly he filled me. Stretched me.

  How perfectly he touched me, kissed me. Lying beneath him, I rocked my hips, meeting his thrusts, taking him deep. I loved the feel of his weight on top of me, loved the way his unique scent filled my nose, loved the way he growled like a big bear as he possessed my body.

  Oh yes. This was what I’d been waiting for. Shane was still the same powerful, domineering man that made me breathless, but he’d also shown a little vulnerability. And it was that vulnerability that made me feel so safe with him now. Safe and cherished.

  His hands tormented my breasts while he pounding into me. He sat back on his knees, changing the angle and pushed my bent legs back so I was open wide to him. In that position, every stroke, both in and out, touched that place inside of me that sent electric jolts through my body. I was getting hot, hotter. Burning up. So tight. So breathless.

  “Touch yourself, minx,” he demanded. “Show me how you come.”

  I’d never touched myself in front of anyone before. The thought was scandalous. It made me flush. It made my insides clench around his invading shaft.

  Ohhhh, did that feel good.

  A wave of carnal heat pulsed through me.

  I was getting closer to orgasm. But I didn’t want this to end. Not yet. If I touched myself…no. I couldn’t.

  I tossed my head from side to side.

  “Do it. For me.”

  The way he spoke those words…it was almost a plea. I couldn’t refuse, even though I knew I was about to climax. I slid my hand down my stomach, over my mound. A fingertip slipped between my slick folds, finding the hard little nub hiding beneath them.

  With the first stroke, I felt the contractions building. A couple more, and my inside muscles were convulsing around him as he roughly claimed me.

  “Mine,” he said, over and over, and he thrust deep inside. “Mine. Only mine.”

  “Yes, Shane. Only yours.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist. He gave me one last inward thrust then jerked out, spilling his seed on my stomach.

  Then, while I struggled to catch my breath, he cleaned me with a warm washcloth before lying down and gathering me into his arms.

  Lost in bliss, I felt myself smiling as I drifted off to sleep.

  * * * * *

  The
next morning, I woke to the sensation of Shane’s hands gently gliding over my body, his heat radiating over my back, his erection burning the skin of my buttocks. What a wickedly delicious way to start the day.

  He nuzzled my neck, giving me little nips that tickled. Goose bumps prickled my shoulders and back. “I have to go, but I’ll pick you up next week. Friday. You’ll get my letter on Wednesday.”

  Smiling, “Okay.”

  “Do you remember the question I asked you when we were in Antigua?” he murmured as he flicked his tongue into my ear.

  “Which one? The one about what I want?” Already, I knew my answer. It had nothing to do with money. It had nothing to do with a job. Or a house. Or a car. It had to do with a certain man, of wanting him to become the man I believed he could be.

  “When we meet, I would like you to tell me the answer to that question.”

  Pretending I didn’t have a clue, I sighed, “I guess I can try.”

  He flipped me onto my back and climbing over top of me glowered. “You’ll try?”

  I giggled. “Yes, sir. I will have that answer for you.”

  “Better.” He brushed his lips against mine. A kiss that was too short and too sweet. Taking his advice to heart, I grabbed the hair at his nape and pulled. And I gave him a proper kiss, running my tongue along the seam of his mouth. He didn’t open to me, instead, he pushed my tongue back. While his mouth possessed mine, he cupped my ass, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to him, relishing the feel of his heat, the taste of him as it spread through my mouth, the sound of the low rumble vibrating in his chest.

  He kneaded the globes of my bottom roughly, pulled the flesh apart and traced the seam of my slit with a fingertip. I gasped into our joined mouths.

  “I have your answer, Shane. I want you,” I said between kisses. I sounded more desperate than demanding. The raspy tone of my voice said need more than want.

  “I see. I know what I said about taking what you want. But let’s make one thing clear, minx,” he growled, eyes sharp, “You can’t take me. Not now. Not ever. No. I will always take you.” And to illustrate, he gripped my waist and impaled me with his thick rod.

  I cried out from the pleasure and shock. Him wanting me, me wanting him. His taking me. Me taking him. Who cared? All I knew was that he was filling me, stretching me, shoving in and out roughly, stroking that spot inside that made blazes erupt through my whole body.

  The rest, we could figure out later.

  We’d had our troubles, but in just a short time we’d already learned there was something really powerful between us. Something special. There was no way to know yet if it would make us better people…or destroy us.

  Only time would tell.

  The End

  The End

  * * * * *

  The Favor of a Review

  Reviews, ratings and comments are much appreciated. If you’ve enjoyed my story, I welcome you to share your thoughts with friends on Twitter and Facebook. I read all the reviews of my books and love to hear what readers have to say. If you have a moment, I would be grateful for your time. My sincerest thank you.

  *****

  Please turn the page for a special sneak preview of DARKEST DESIRE, the second book in my Black Gryffon series.

  An Excerpt From: DARKEST DESIRE

  Copyright © TAWNY TAYLOR, 2012

  All Rights Reserved, Kensington Publishing Corp.

  Beautiful.

  Exquisite.

  Thoroughly, utterly, intoxicatingly sexy.

  And as deadly as a cottonmouth.

  That was Malek Alexandre, summed up in twelve concise words.

  A spectator at the private bondage club, standing in the shadows at the back of an open dungeon, Lei Mitchell moved aside to let a slave wearing a black thong and dog collar pass. Her gaze never left Malek. Not for a second.

  This was an opportunity she couldn’t deny herself.

  For once she was free to just . . . enjoy. Without fearing she’d be caught by Malek, one of his brothers, or her sister, Rin.

  Lei’s hungry gaze wandered up and down his body at leisure now, taking in the full glory of his heavily muscled form. He was wearing a simple outfit—black, snug-fitting knitted shirt and tailored trousers, no leather for this man—but still Lei could make out the rippling bulges and clean lines defining each muscle as he lifted his arm and flicked his wrist. The leather tails of his flogger sailed through the air toward their target, and Lei’s breath caught in her throat.

  Malek was not just any dom. He was the dom. The one who made her blood pound hard and hot through her veins. If only submitting to him wouldn’t mean her destruction.

  Warm and tingly all over, even though her insides ached a little at knowing she would never—could never—know the pleasure of submitting to her master, Lei stood in that dark corner, just out of his sight, and watched as Malek trained a submissive. The sub, a male, clearly enjoyed every stroke of the lash, as evidenced by the look of utter rapture on his face . . . and the large bulge pressing against the only garment he was wearing, the snug black G-string. Like Malek, the sub was lean, firmly muscled, bronzed, attractive. He was also delightfully responsive. She wouldn’t mind taking him back to her private suite sometime.

  Since being rescued from a nightmarish life as a sex slave, Lei had come to this private bondage club to exorcise her demons. One of her previous owners had trained her to dominate him. As it turned out, his kink had become her salvation. Now she was the one in control. She was the one holding the whip, tying the knots, instead of receiving the blows or being bound and forced to fuck.

  Free now from that horrendous life, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from seeking out opportunities to dominate men. She wasn’t sure why. She received no sexual fulfillment from it. She received no emotional fulfillment either. She was still the empty shell of a girl she’d been the day her sister had bought her out of hell.

  But now she was an empty shell with a compulsion.

  And a fascination with a certain dom.

  As Malek released his submissive from his restraints, in preparation for a change in position, Lei tried to walk away.

  But she couldn’t. Her feet simply wouldn’t move.

  Her body was tight. Hot. Her heart was pounding. It was as if she were lowering to her knees before Malek, waiting breathlessly for his next command.

  Malek ran his fingertip down the sub’s spine.

  A tiny shudder of pleasure quaked through Lei’s body. Her pussy clamped tight against an aching emptiness. She licked her dry lips and curled her fingers into fists.

  What would he do next?

  The submissive settled on his knees on the floor, butt lifted high, rather than resting on his heels. He tipped his head down. Waiting. Patiently.

  Lei had been forced into that position too many times to count. She’d never voluntarily kneeled before a man. She couldn’t now. But that didn’t stop her from imagining herself in the submissive’s place at this moment. If she closed her eyes, she could feel Malek’s gaze sweeping up and down her body. Her skin burning. Her nerves prickling.

  It was anxiety and anticipation both. A touch of fear coupled with the expectation of good things, wonderful things. Of unimaginable pleasure. And glorious pain.

  If only . . . if only . . .

  “Is that a smile I see?” Malek’s voice was unexpectedly light, playful. His tone both put her at ease and made her that much tighter.

  “No,” the submissive answered.

  “No, Master,” Lei whispered to herself as she opened her eyes. Such a show of defiance surely deserved a punishment. She didn’t want to miss this.

  What would Malek do?

  A chill skittered up her spine.

  Malek’s brow lifted, but he said nothing.

  Ah, he was going to let his submissive wait, wonder.

  She unclenched her hands and dragged her sweaty palms down the sides of her legs. A huge lump congealed in her throat. She swallowed ha
rd and squeezed her thighs together. The burning in her pussy was becoming intolerable.

  Malek used the tip of his whip to lift his submissive’s chin. “I asked you a question, and I expect a proper answer. So I’ll ask again, is that a smile I see?”

  The submissive’s lips twitched. “Maybe.”

  This was a submissive who liked to push his luck. Lei had scened with more than enough to know the type. They craved the punishment and weren’t by nature submissive. They merely took on the role so they would be in a position to get what they wanted. Depending upon the submissive, and the dom, that could be a few lashes, being humiliated in public, or perhaps being paddled to within an inch of their limits.

  But what he probably wasn’t expecting was what Malek did, even if they had discussed the possibility ahead of time.

  Malek walked away.

  The submissive’s eyes widened. His mouth formed an “O” of shock; then his lips clamped shut.

  Damn. Lei couldn’t help but smile at the submissive’s reaction. She’d put money on him thinking twice about playing Malek like that again. Or maybe he’d make a different choice in a dom, if that was his game. Either way, it was something to watch.

  While Lei continued to study Malek’s behavior as he prowled around the open dungeon, he turned. His gaze swept the crowd of onlookers gathered around the perimeter of the room. It snapped to her.

  Their eyes met.

  The air seeped from her lungs.

  Her face burned.

  He smiled, and she swore her heart skipped a beat. Maybe two.

  Dangerous. That’s what that man was.

  Her body had never reacted this way to any man before, especially since . . . being rescued. She met his smile with a tiny nod, then forced herself to walk through the throng toward the back hall, toward her private suite, her haven. Her sanctuary.

  * * * * *

  Please turn the page for a special sneak preview of At His Mercy, available now!

 

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