Embracing My Submission

by Jenna Jacob

  “Twice now I have asked you one simple question, and twice now you’ve failed to answer me. I’ve come to the conclusion that either a, you are being rudely disrespectful to me on purpose, or b, you’re embarrassed to reveal who your owner is.” He titled his head slightly, a scolding yet erotic fire blazing in his eyes.

  “Or c, Sir. You obviously didn’t think about option c.” I didn’t plan for my voice to project such a sarcastic tone, but he’d backed me into a corner. I had no other option than to miserably confess I was un-owned.

  “What is option c?” He pursed his decadent lips, his focus on me so intense, I felt like he was piercing my soul.

  “I don’t have one!” I could hear the anger in my voice.

  “You don’t have an option c?” One eyebrow arched and his handsome face reflected complete confusion.

  “No!” I snapped. “I’m un-owned, goddammit!”

  Convinced that my fate had been sealed, it didn’t seem to matter that my voice was bellicose and condescending. I was a lost cause. No sense trying to hide the obvious. He knew it, and I knew it.

  Pushing past him, I ran to the ice machine, all the while hoping he would go back to the dungeon and leave me to my self-loathing anger. Furiously shoveling ice into the bucket, I didn’t dare look back at Drake’s doorway. Please let him leave. Just make him go away.

  When I turned to find him leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest and watching me through narrowed eyes, my feet issued a slight stuttered step. Damn, but he was gorgeous. Even wearing that ferocious, pissed off expression, he was handsome to a disturbing degree.

  Casting my eyes toward the floor, I stormed back into the room, shoulders slumped. A hint of musk and sandalwood carried in the air as I breezed by. He smelled virile and erotic. My stomach swirled as I inhaled deeply, wanting to imprint his exquisite scent to memory, to etch it to my soul and balefully merge him with the other unattainable Dominants long past. My face burned in shame, commensurate to the fiery sexual hunger blazing in my veins.

  “Why not?” he asked as he followed me into the room.

  Placing the ice bucket on the nightstand with a heavy thud, I turned and in a bold un-submissive move, I glared into his eyes. I’d already inflicted all the damage I could ever do to the whole situation. I had nothing left to lose. “Why not what, Sir?” The tone of my voice was fraught with impatience and disgust.

  “Why no owner, girl? Besides your recalcitrant mouth, which alone proves you need a strong Dominant to keep you under his thumb. You intrigue me, Emerald.” Standing much too close, his warm breath wafting over my lips, shards of lightning ignited up my spine. “Tell me why you have no owner, girl?”

  “I...I...” I was attempting to find a reason as Drake entered the room carrying Trevor in his massive, bulging arms.

  “Emerald?” His voice held a tone of concern.

  Feeling like a teen caught by a father necking with her date on the front porch, I stepped away from Jordon. “Everything’s ready, Sir.” I nodded and swallowed tightly as I followed Drake to the bed.

  “Are you all right?” Drake asked as he laid Trevor upon the mattress. His boy’s back and ass were covered in a patchwork of wicked, red welts. Trevor whimpered as he curled into a fetal position.

  “Yes, Sir. I’m fine.” I nodded, though I had no idea where my sudden bravery came from. Maybe it was simply having Drake in the room, knowing the imposing Daddy Dom was there and had my back. For whatever reason, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

  “May I please comfort?”

  “You may.” Drake nodded solemnly then turned his attention toward Jordon.

  I turned and climbed onto the bed. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw a look of unease settle upon Drake’s face.

  “Is there something I can help you with Jordon?” His tone was strangely reminiscent of a reprimanding father. I smiled.

  “No. I was simply talking to Emerald while she prepared for your arrival.” That calm and carefree demeanor had returned. He flipped it on and off like a light switch, which I thought was strange. I suspected it was probably some bizarre form of Dom posturing.

  “Ahhh, I see. You’re more than welcome to watch her comfort my boy if you’d like,” Drake invited.

  “Thank you. I’d enjoy that very much.”

  I sensed the two men approaching as I crawled alongside Trevor. Holding a bottle of water and a piece of chocolate in hand, I knelt next to him. Softly caressing his peaceful face, I smiled. He was flying high in his subspace. I’d never experienced it before, but an ache to be floating right alongside him filled me. Swallowing back the tightness in my throat, I opened the water.

  “Take a drink sweetheart,” I whispered in Trevor’s ear. His pathetic whimper brought a smile to my lips. “Shhh. It’s just me baby. Let me help you. Come on honey, take a drink.”

  Placing my arm behind his neck, I eased his head until his lips met the bottle’s rim. Softly murmuring, I coaxed as he guzzled the water. A quick nod of his head indicated he’d had enough. Sealing up the water, I placed a piece of chocolate against his lips. “Here’s some sweet.”

  Trevor moaned as he savored the milky brown square. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  I smiled and lightly threaded my fingers through his sweaty, tangled hair. Leaning forward, I peppered the side of his face with gentle kisses. He groaned and turned for a kiss on the lips. Suddenly, Drake’s firm hand was gripped in my auburn curls, and with a brutal yank, he pulled me away from Trevor’s mouth.

  My nipples shriveled, my juices flowed, and my clit screamed. Tiny whimpers filled the room...my whimpers. Involuntary tremors wracked my body as it responded the way it always did when someone pulled my hair. Quaking and quivering uncontrollably, my hips writhed from side to side. My swollen folds teased my turgid clit. I needed to come and come hard.

  “I love watching your reaction to this, Emerald,” Drake praised in a loving tone. “Are your nipples hard, girl?”

  “Y...yes, S...Sir,” I whimpered, my tunnel contracting with a vicious squeeze.

  “Is your pussy wet?” Drake’s tone was feral yet taunting.

  “Y...yesss, Sirrr.” I groaned in a combination of excitement and embarrassment, knowing Jordon watched the exchange.

  “Yes, pet. I know it is. I can smell you. If I were hetro, I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t walk for days,” Drake growled, lightly nipping his teeth upon the sensitive column of my neck, further fueling the intensity of my hunger.

  My tunnel convulsed tightly as I gasped in big gulps of air.

  “Mistress Sammie discovered this little trigger during a scene with Emerald. It was quite erotic,” Drake explained to Jordon. “You came hard that night didn’t you, sweet girl?”

  I whimpered affirmatively as I continued to quake.

  “Yes. Your screams filled the dungeon as you shattered on the cross. Every Dom in the club, straight and gay, sported painful erections watching you come undone.”

  “What an amazing trigger,” Jordon praised in a slight sigh. “Such an exceptional girl.”

  “Yes. She’s beyond treasure. She’s a once-in-a-lifetime find.”

  “And yet...she’s not owned. Pity,” Jordon whispered.

  “You won’t kiss my boy’s mouth tonight, girl. Do you understand me?” Drake’s directive was savage. “He’s not earned your treat. He’ll have to suffer without his sister’s compassion.”

  I moaned louder as Drake tugged, reinforcing his instruction. “Yes, Sir. I...I under...understand you.” I gasped, praying he’d release my hair before the mounting orgasm consumed me in front of Jordon.

  “You act like you need to come, girl. Do you?” Drake growled, tugging once again.

  “Yes, Sir.” I whimpered in a pathetic plea. “I mean, no Sir.”

  My mind was a jumbled mass of confusion. I desperately wanted...needed to come, but I felt awkward and confused. Surely Drake didn’t mean to muster my orgasm, did he? He’d al
ways relegated that task to Mistress Sammie. And never before had he provoked me in such an intimate manner. Ever.

  “Not by you. You don’t like vaginas.” I knew I was making little sense.

  A low rumble of laughter rolled from deep in his throat. “You’re right, sweetheart. I don’t like vaginas. They’re messy little caverns, always leaking and puddling. I’m strictly a cock man. Your panting and vicious trembling tells me you want to come, just not by my hand. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “But would you like to come by Jordon’s hands?”

  His words enticed me in a teasing, taunting tone. My mind was screaming. Yes! Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. I need to come. I want to feel his hands on my bare flesh. I want to taste his mouth, his tongue, his cock, to feel him drive deep inside me, and I want it, now! But the desperate plea lodged in my throat. All I could do was cry in a pitiful moan.

  “You don’t know anything about him, girl. He’s a stranger. Would you really want to come for a stranger? Let him fondle you. Stroke you. Urge your release?” Drake’s whispered words were laced with enticing subjugation.

  “I don’t know.” I gasped in confusion. I was torn between the onslaught of demand scraping for freedom and the fear of a total stranger setting it free.

  “Of course you do. You want to come, don’t you pet?” he whispered lovingly in my ear as he firmly tugged my mane.

  A soft mewl floated from my lips.

  “Don’t worry, precious, I will be here with you. Nothing will happen that I don’t approve of. You know I’ll take good care of you.”

  “Trevor,” I blurted out in a frantic whisper. I was struck with the sudden fear of leaving him unattended. Or was it the fear of failing once again in whatever escapade Drake had cooked up? A glance down found Trevor serene and sleeping.

  “He’s soaring on a big dose of endorphins. We’ll just let him float, love. He’s earned it. And wouldn’t it be wonderful to be sexually sated, curled up next to your brother?”

  Emotions whirled through me like a tornado on the prairie. Drake’s bedeviling fostered a blistering torrent within my womb, coupled with cold winds of fear at the thought of fragmenting beneath Jordon’s hands. Conflicting passions swirled me senseless.

  Whimpering in undecided frustration, my mounting orgasm threatened to break through and devour me. Every nerve ending in my body was electrified. Sizzling. Throbbing. Howling in need.

  “Pull your breasts free, pet,” Drake instructed, effectively taking the decision from me.

  With trembling fingers, I reached beneath my corset and eased each breast from beneath the silk brocade. My nipples were drawn tight. Sensitive. Even the ultralight brush of my fingertips over the turgid peaks almost had me coming undone.

  Drake directed me from the bed by my hair. “Up, girl. Stand. Don’t move. You’re going to come for Sir Jordon. You’re going to let him touch you while I hold you against me. Do you understand what I want you to do for me, pet?” He emphasized the words with a swipe of his tongue over my neck.

  “Yes, Sir.” I whimpered as Drake’s body heat and buttery-soft leather vest caressed my back.

  “Jordon, would you mind locking the door, please? Then by all means, put this poor girl out of her misery,” Drake asked in a formal manner.

  “It would be my honor.” Jordon’s lips curled in a wicked smile.

  I was in a carnal fog. My body hummed. My hips, as if possessed, rocked from side to side in an effort to alleviate the frenzied throbbing of my clit.

  “You haven’t come since the last time you scened with Mistress Sammie, have you?”

  “No, Sir.” I gasped.

  “Poor pet,” Drake tsked. “That’s been at least two months. I would say you’re past due. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes. Yes, Sir.”

  I watched Jordon’s luscious muscles ripple and bunch as he closed and locked the door. When he turned to walk toward me, the massive bulge in his trousers nearly cast me over the edge. His erection was huge, straining in mouthwatering invitation. I wanted to drop to my knees, open my mouth, and suck down every swollen inch of him.

  “I think this sweet slut is in serious need of relief.” Drake chuckled. “Please. Help yourself.”

  “I’d love to.” Jordon’s expression was animalistic.

  His wicked smile and twinkling eyes sent a ripple of excitement spinning down my spine. I thought he might attack me without preamble. I was surprised as his gentle hand brushed an errant curl from my face. His touch was soft, yet I felt the blistering heat of his fingers, fingers I prayed would find their way to my core and fly me headlong over the edge to blessed relief. Breathing in his delicious scent, I closed my eyes, allowing his alluring fragrance to fill me.

  “Give me your lips, girl. I want to taste you. Then I’m going to make you scream for me...eventually.”

  My mind was trying to process his growling promise when his mouth brushed mine then pressed firmer in demand. His lips were electrified velvet, supple yet commanding, possessing me with soul-shocking conviction. His tongue traced the seam of my lips in unequivocal petition. I opened for him, greedily accepting his hot, slick tongue on a blissful moan.

  His body pressed ardently against mine, with the heat of his plentiful cock nudging my belly. He was as enormous as I’d imagined. The room spun, flinging me like a carnival ride as I fought the urge to devour him whole. I was filled with the need to suck him so deep inside my hungry mouth that he would fill the aching void in my soul. I melted against him and fed upon his glorious tongue, sucking and biting like a ravenous animal.

  Roughly pulling his mouth from mine, he pinched my nipples, tugging soundly on my embedded silver rings.

  “Did you forget who’s in control here, girl?” The command of his voice made me whimper. “You’re not going to get flippant with me again, are you?” Tilting his head, he raised a brow in question as a slow, teasing smile spread across his swollen lips.

  “No, Sir, I promise,” I mewled, writhing against him. I leaned in, hungry to feel his mouth once more upon mine, aching for his hot, slick tongue to entice me even higher.

  “What did you say, Jordon?” Drake’s thunderous tone resonated in dismay.

  My body grew rigid in dread. Drake.

  “Emerald was flippant with you? When?” he asked angrily.

  “I’m sure she meant no disrespect, Drake. I suspect the poor girl just had a bad night is all.” Jordon smiled and winked at me.

  “That’s no excuse,” Drake bellowed. Spinning me around to face him, he roughly cupped my chin up, forcing me to look into his stormy eyes. “Were you disrespectful to Jordon, girl?”

  I exhaled heavily and closed my eyes, nodding as a rebellious avalanche of despair consumed me. Drake’s sigh blasted over my face as he released my hair with a harsh snap of his wrist.

  “Look at me, Emerald,” he hissed between clenched teeth, pinching my jaw soundly.

  Hesitant but obeying, I opened my eyes and was met with far too much clarity. The gut-wrenching degree of Drake’s anger blazed in his gray eyes. Guilt inducing disappointment was carved on his face.

  “Cover yourself and leave immediately. Go sit at the bar. Do not speak to a soul. I’ll be out to talk to you shortly. I am thoroughly ashamed of you at the moment.”

  His scornful look coupled with his harsh words crushed me. I wanted to scream but instead I cast my eyes toward the floor, stuffed my breasts back into my corset, and ran from the room.

  Fighting back tears of humiliation, I snuck behind the bar and grabbed my purse, thankful that Mistress Sammie was busy and oblivious to my presence. Trying not to draw attention to myself, I kept my eyes cast downward and walked steadfast toward the exit. Snagging my coat, I jammed my arms through the sleeves and raced out of the building.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Embarrassed.

  Humiliated.

  Crushed.

  The entire night was a complete debacle, and now I was paying th
e ultimate price. I’d been sentenced to submissive “time-out.” Drake had no right to punish me like that. Damn him...He’d wheedled and promised blissful release and because of one ill-timed comment from Jordon, he’d taken it all away.

  “I’m not a yo-yo!” I felt like I’d been manipulated to the nth degree as I pulled out of the parking lot.

  Hungry hormones raced through my body, while humiliation, like black tar, pumped thick through my veins. Drake was going to be pissed to the gills when he realized I’d run off. I’d never disobeyed him before. Guilt expanded like a murky cloak of despair, glazing over my throbbing frustration.

  “Why does something like this always happen to me?” Pondering all the ways I’d messed up in the past, I pulled into the parking lot of Maurizio’s, a quaint little Italian restaurant and bar. I needed a drink to soothe my frazzled nerves and attempt to sort out all that had transpired. Somehow I’d find a way to make amends with Drake, later...much, much later.

  Sliding up to the bar, I fastened the top button of my trench coat. It wasn’t raining, in fact the night was warm, but I was wearing fetish wear in a vanilla restaurant. I had no desire to be ogled like some high-priced call girl.

  “Shot of Crown,” I demanded. Scotty the bartender quirked one brow high on his forehead, then without saying a word, filled the small glass.

  I couldn’t begin to count the number of times Drake, Trevor, and I had sat at this bar laughing and telling bad jokes with Scotty. But tonight it was just me and my thorny emotions.

  Tipping back the amber liquid, I welcomed the burn as it warmed my throat and stomach. Tapping the rim, I nodded for another. Scotty’s brows drew together as he pursed his lips then refilled the glass. I slammed the shot and damn near choked.

  “Rough night?” Scotty asked in a slightly dry, sarcastic tone.

  I nodded and tapped the rim.

  “Where’s Drake?” Studying me through narrow eyes, he hesitated then filled the glass.

  Tossing back the shot, my eyes watered from the acrid liquor. “Back at the club,” I croaked out in a hoarse whisper then impatiently tapped my glass once again.