Surrender

by Peters, Heather

"Taste me, Isabella. Put me in your mouth, wrap those warm lips around my cock, and take me."

  He leaned back, legs apart, his long cock surrounded by a dusting of black hair, his sack tight and high, nestled beneath his length. Isabella caressed him, lowered her head and touched her tongue to the tiny slit, tasting his essence. He was magnificent.

  "Suck me," he said.

  Heat ribboned through her as her mouth surrounded his crown. He pumped into her, and she relaxed so his length touched the back of her throat. He tasted like fire, sex, and dark secrets.

  His long, low groan empowered her. His hands entwined in her hair, wrapping it around his wrist until she couldn't back away if she tried. She cherished the sounds he made. Isabella sensed the explosion as he tightened his grip in her hair. He let out a carnal roar. "Isabella, ah, ah!" He cried her name as he pumped once more deep inside her and then stilled. His cry split the night as he released his passion into her mouth.

  Breathing hard, he pulled her off him and brought her to his chest. His kisses engulfed her. With his nostrils flared and his hair wild and long, he reminded her of a jungle cat. His powerful body held her, his dark gaze promising more to come. And she was right.

  "The night has just begun, my beauty." He pushed her hips into the cradle of his lap. His cock was already rock hard. "I want you on the bed, on your back, and spread wide for me."

  Her body ached to do as he said. She wanted him, wanted this. Quickly, she stepped over to the large bed, then climbed on top to lay on her back, mindful Lyon was watching her every move.

  Slowly, deliberately, she opened her legs and waited.

  Isabella watched as he sauntered to the bed like a graceful animal. The terrace doors were open and the curtains swayed furiously as thunder rumbled through the room. Looking at Lyon, Isabella knew there would be more than one storm splitting the night.

  He walked to the armoire and removed several items, while she shivered, waiting to see what he had in store.

  "Give me your arms, darling."

  She obeyed without protest as he tied her wrists to the bedposts and then moved on to her ankles, tying each foot to a post. Her heart raced, her body ached, and Isabella found herself a willing sacrifice, her body wide open for him. How had she come to that conclusion? She'd been here with Lyon such a short time. In the past few hours, however, the anger and resentment she felt was directed toward herself. She'd bartered her body for money.

  You knew what he would want in return for the loan, and yet, you turned to him. Yes, Lyon had been sarcastic and cocky and seemingly indifferent, but never once had he hurt her.

  In fact, he'd done nothing except make her feel. He'd shown her the beauty of his home and magnificent gardens, made love to her as if she were the only woman on earth.

  You invaded his space, showed up out of the blue after five years, and asked him for money. He never hesitated.

  As she watched him climb on the bed beside her, she held no fear of what would happen here. She readied herself to submit to Lyon and his dark passion. He knelt next to her, his hoarse whisper sending ribbons of heat to her nipples.

  "Next, the blindfold. I want you to feel the experience of touch, sound, and taste." She nodded, leaving everything to him. Naked and spread-eagled on his bed, she could feel a strong breeze and hear crackling thunder. She imagined Lyon had harnessed the sky's powerful energy and made it his own.

  Bound and blindfolded, anticipation ruled her mind and body. Lyon moved around her. Her sense of hearing grew acute while her eyes saw only darkness. She could smell his spicy scent, sense him closer. Isabella's heart fluttered like the wings of a trapped butterfly.

  Rain began to fall. Fat drops beat against the house as she felt the bed dip and suddenly his lips crashed upon hers like a pounding sea against the rocks. She found herself drawn to his strength, waiting for the welcoming burn of his mouth on her pussy, his lips sucking her aching nipples.

  "I love looking at you, especially when you're ready to come, Belle." He nipped at her earlobe, making her ache for all of him. Then he trailed down her body, first to her chin, then to her throat. His hands palmed her nipples, squeezing them until she moaned from the tiny pulses of pleasure soaring through her.

  "Don't stop," she managed to say, as he cupped her breasts and fondled them, making her writhe, bringing her senses to the fore.

  "Don't talk, just feel."

  His mouth blazed a heated trail down her torso. She picked up the smell of sweet tea roses while rain beat against the terrace doors as if demanding entrance. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the fierce tempest grew near, along with her body's need to let go.

  Isabella had never been so vulnerable, her body open and naked. Her pussy ached for him, for satisfaction, and Lyon would not disappoint. She felt him move, leave the bed, and return.

  He settled beside her, and a cool sensation bit her aching nipples. Clamps. Control waned as the tightness of the toy gave her the sublime pleasure she savored. The clamps gripped her oh-so-sensitive nipples, and she cried out, not from pain but from an overwhelming sense of pleasure.

  "I love your breasts." Lyon whispered. "They are full and swollen and filled with arousal. Your nipples are so hard. I can almost see them throb from the pressure." Yes, more, touch me everywhere, she thought, but didn't speak her desire. Lyon would know. Maybe he'd always known.

  So close his lips tickled her ear, he whispered. "I'm going to devour your pink flesh until you scream for mercy, Belle. Do you know what I want? I want to kiss your succulent mound and suck your clit. Would you like that?" She nodded, again electing not to speak, to save her strength for what he had planned for the both of them.

  "Good."

  Good. A single word and her world rocked and spiraled out of control. His thumbs spread her pussy open to his gaze. He blew gently on her sensitive flesh, quickly pierced her slit with his tongue. In and out, up and down, relentless in his quest to drive her insane.

  Lyon, don't stop.

  "Lift your hips for me, Belle."

  He smeared lubricant around her tiny puckered hole, and she held her breath. He was tender as he circled the outside, spreading the lube. He stopped his ministrations and leaned into her.

  "Do you trust me?"

  She swallowed hard, her body a sea of sensation. He said he'd never hurt her, and she believed him.

  "Yes, I trust you."

  "I'm glad."

  The next thing she knew, her wrists and legs were free. He removed the blindfold as well. She stared up into the eyes of her beast, and observed blue orbs deepened by lust. She trembled in anticipation. He removed the nipple clamps and the sensation of pleasure-pain made her scream.

  "On your stomach and lift your hips, love."

  She turned over and felt Lyon kneel behind her. He spread her legs and pulled her hips up. His thumb, lubed and slippery, slid over the puckered opening of her ass. Slowly he breached her seam and with a slight push, glided the single digit inward. Isabella let out the breath she was holding and a warm flush flooded through her. She'd never had anal sex and didn’t know what to expect. But this new experience was dark and exciting.

  His thumb slid in and out of the tight opening while shivers rolled up her spine, and her nipples turned hard and aching.

  Again, he pulled out, and smeared more lubricant around her tiny opening. He then inserted two fingers inside her slick channel, and Isabella felt a burning pressure.

  "Take a deep breath, darling." When she obeyed, he moved his fingers inside her, stretching her skin to accommodate him.

  "Exhale, love, and relax. Remember, I won't hurt you, ever." With his fingers spread in her rear, she experienced a tiny burn. Lyon's other hand reached for the tube of lubricant braced on the bed as he pushed deeper. Isabella experienced pressure but no pain. She found herself leaning into his hand when more lubricant was squeezed between her cheeks, to stretch her wider to accommodate him. Isabella's eyes closed tightly as she adjusted to the sensations and let
out a soft whoosh of breath.

  Lyon applied more lubricant. The cool fluid slid down between her legs, and again, Lyon inserted two fingers, stretching her, readying her for his onslaught. She felt his fingers tremble.

  "You have no idea how sexy you look with your ass up in the air, waiting for me to claim it, ma Belle. You are mine, Isabella. Mine."

  And with that, two hands were holding her hips firmly, and she felt the smooth head of his cock against the tiny puckered opening. She braced herself. Lyon whispered softly. "Relax, darling. Trust me, and just let go." Slowly, with excruciating tenderness, he pushed himself into her rear. Isabella naturally tensed at the invasion, gripping the sheets tight and shutting her eyes.

  "It will hurt for just a little while, then I will bring you pleasure as you've never known."

  She moaned as he pushed into her ever so slowly. Lyon's groan came out in a sexy rasp and nearly sent her over the edge.

  "Just enjoy the sensations," he whispered, and the fullness of his cock entered her. The combination of his fingers squeezing her clit and his cock in her ass was sublime. "That's it, darling, take all of me. Ah, you feel so hot and wet and luscious." He moved by degrees inside her, and Isabella knew he was being careful not to hurt her. His fingers moved up and down her clit, and Isabella couldn’t take much more. She was going to pass out. It was all too much for her. The pleasure was overwhelming; his fucking consumed her.

  "More, I need more, ah . . . ."

  Lyon pushed farther into her, the fullness of his cock sending frissons of intense pleasure-pain washing over her. He began to quicken his moves, fucking her faster. The pleasure erased the pain and Isabella shut her eyes, letting the sensations fill her. His hand left her clit and he braced himself on her hips, firmly keeping her in place while he stroked, in and out. Isabella heard a long, deep groan. He was close, so close.

  Suddenly, he pulled out of her and flipped her onto her back. Taking a deep breath, he left her and leaned over the nightstand.

  "Lyon, what . . . ?"

  "Shh, just a moment, love." He left their bed and strode to the bathroom. Isabella tried to regulate her breathing, but as he returned to her, naked, long, and fully erect, her pussy clenched with want. He knelt on the bed next to her, holding a wet cloth.

  "Open your legs, darling." His voice was a soft rasp. He placed the cloth at the entrance of her mound and with a feathery touch, washed her. Their eyes met, his warm smile sending tingles through her. As she watched him, he proceeded to wash himself as well, stroking the cloth up and down his rigid cock. Isabella was moved by his care of her, but wanted him back in her arms, now.

  "Hurry," she managed to murmur.

  And he did. He threw the cloth to the floor and resumed his position above her, his hair a mass of beautiful long waves. She buried her fingers into those soft strands.

  "Tell me what you want."

  He sighed. "I want to watch you come, love."

  Her legs were spread wide and her knees pushed up, exposing her heated flesh to his hungry gaze.

  He entered her easily and instantly, pushing to the hilt, then rained kisses over her face, cheek, and nose, finally crushing his mouth to hers.

  "I'm coming apart, Lyon. Take me now, I need you." Her voice seemed to encourage him to pump faster.

  Did he just growl?

  "Yes, love. Go over with me. Do it, Belle." Finally, he lifted her hips off the bed, slammed inside her, over and over again. "Come with me." She licked her lips as sensations spread like a tidal wave from the inside out. Her body quaked and coherent thought fled. She held on tight, until the silence ended and her screams of bliss competed with the distant thunder.

  Chapter Seven

  The scent of fresh cut roses awakened Isabella. In the bright light of day, as passion ebbed, cold reality set in.

  Isabella hated herself for giving in to him.

  Other than a tray holding a vase containing a single pink blush rose on the bedside table, she found herself alone in the huge, decadent bed of snowy silk sheets. The flower reminded her of last night in Lyon's arms.

  She'd done things she'd never thought herself capable of or wanting to do. She had surrendered herself to him, something she'd vowed she'd never allow. But his touch had ignited a sleeping spark into a fire that burned like a fuse down to her core. Flames so bright and hot, only his touch could extinguish the blistering heat. His mouth. She'd begged him, screamed out his name as she had climaxed again and again, taking his body in her own, giving herself back. At his gentle urging, she'd tasted him, brought him to orgasm, and relished his cries of triumph, as he arched his back, spilling himself into her.

  She'd allowed him to take her anally. Isabella closed her eyes and recalled the indescribable moment when she'd given over to the power of his body inside her. Her ass ached in a delicious way. He'd done what he set out to do. Possessed her, claimed her, made her feel.

  She inhaled deeply and smiled. Her eyes captured a small, fishbowl-shaped vase, filled to overflowing with sunshine yellow roses. Yellow roses symbolized friendship. Did this mean he'd forgiven her?

  Where was he? She heard distant barking beyond the terrace doors and knew where she'd find him.

  Wrapping herself in a silk robe that lay nearby, she padded toward the doors and peered out onto the vast lawns.

  Dressed all in black, her dark angel wore jeans, a t-shirt, and his black hair was tied back. The dogs seemed to be in ecstasy as he wrestled and frolicked with them on the grass. He looked like a carefree boy, rather than a solitary man with only his animals to keep him company.

  But Isabella knew better. Lyon seemed tortured, a dichotomy open and agreeable one moment, closed as a vault the next—gentle with her body when the mood suited him and then wild the next. Something inside him craved to possess her, to have her surrender to his every need.

  But true to his word, he hadn't hurt her. From the first time she'd met him, she thought him an intense man, sexy, and powerful. He'd cast a spell over her last night. Her body had come alive and then came apart in his arms. Was that why did this suddenly seem like so much more than just a business arrangement?

  * * * * *

  He could sense her watching from the terrace. Her soft, lush body wrapped within the confines of the slinky robe he'd left at the foot of the bed. And he wanted her again.

  Entering the house, he grew hard just thinking about the night before. He'd demanded her submission, her surrender, and she'd given all she had. Couldn't she see through his sarcastic barbs, realize how much he loved her?

  Not yet, my darling, but you will.

  He found her sitting on the bed, legs crossed. His heart raced as he watched her braid her long hair over one shoulder. Those agile fingers had touched him and brought him pleasure beyond comprehension.

  Suddenly, he just wanted to talk to her, to share time with her.

  "Tell me about your shop, A Rose is a Rose."

  She swept the thick plait over her shoulder. "You really want to know?" He nodded.

  "Why?"

  "Because it's part of your life, a part of you."

  Isabella nodded and slid to one side of the bed, where he joined her and reached for her hand. She entwined it with her own.

  "Well, my dad and I bought an abandoned ice cream parlor. The refrigeration was a plus for the shop, and since I have a degree in botany and have always had a love of flowers . . . ."

  "You certainly seem to be enamored with my garden."

  "Yes. Especially your roses, which are by far the most beautiful I've ever seen."

  "Have you just given me a compliment, Isabella?"

  Her smile grabbed his heart and held on for dear life.

  She nodded. "I guess I have."

  "Thank you." He moved behind her and undid her braid. How on earth did she get her hair to smell like roses? He began to kiss her, starting at her hairline, inhaling all of her.

  Isabella tilted her head into his caress. "What about you, Lyon? What about the
past five years?"

  He sighed heavily but held her closer. "I worked hard to gain what I have. A successful business, the foundation for abused animals, a big house, several cars." He shrugged and placed his forehead to hers. "And there's been no one since you've been gone Isabella, no one."

  She remained silent, but wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Make love to me, Lyon."

  He continued his journey down her soft cheek to her lips, opening her mouth and plundering the depths, while her tongue darted out and met his. His cock swelled more and he slid her beneath him. He rose and braced himself on his elbow in order to untie her robe and pulled apart the fabric, revealing the swell of her full breasts. As he circled his tongue around her dark pink areolas, her groans of arousal were music to his ears.

  "You are the most sensual woman I've ever known." He murmured in her ear.

  "Your body is lush and perfect in all the right places, and I just can't seem to get enough of you."

  "Stop talking and put your mouth on me, inside me." In invitation, she opened her legs for him. He licked his way down her navel, and her scent drew him to her precious core.

  Her pussy swelled with moist heat. Her eyes closed and Lyon watched her grab the headboard.

  "Hold on," he said.

  He lifted her hips to gain better access and his tongue pierced those pink petals. Her musky scent rocked him. She tasted like sin. He sucked her clit until she stilled.

  "Say my name, Belle."

  "Lyon," she murmured, her head thrashing on the pillow.

  "I'm here, darling, tell me what you need?"

  "Take me all the way, Lyon, now. Now."

  He threw off his clothes, relief washing through him as he freed his aching cock from the confines of his slacks. He slid into her wet heat in one long stroke. Her tiny gasps of pleasure fueled his arousal. He pulled back, pushed into her again, kissed her swollen lips and trailed his mouth down to her neck to her beautiful breasts. He suckled and nipped one distended nipple then the other, the taste sweet and warm.

  "Tell me you want me, only me, love."

  Her cries told him it wouldn't be long now. His dick slid in and out of her, and she milked him with each long stroke.