by Lisabet Sarai, Trina Lane, Elizabeth Coldwell, Charlotte Stein, Jane Davitt, Justine Elyot
“That’s why you came to Berks Hills, right? To nurse your broken heart.”
“Her rejection hurt, I’ll admit. But our relationship hadn’t worked for a long time. In three years together, we never really connected—not the way you and I do.”
Hope flickered weakly in my chest. I stamped it out. “But you’re still partners…”
“Partners, part-owners of Gotham Repertory. That’s why she came tonight. She wants me to buy out her share. She’s off to Europe, she says. She wants to get as far away from me as possible.”
I let out a grim chuckle. “I can identify.”
Geoff picked up my hand and brought it to his lips. “Do you really feel that way, Sarah? I thought you cared about me.”
That voice, so smooth, so irresistible! My tears began to flow again. “I do! I love you. I can’t imagine living without you. But you—you—just—hick—just want to—hick—fuck me!” Wonderful, I had the hiccups, just when I wanted to seem mature and dignified.
“No, Sarah! No! I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re the lover I’ve always wanted. Intelligent, curious, courageous, willing to follow wherever I lead. Do you know how rare you are, with your ability to surrender?”
“I am—hick?” I sniffed.
“I sensed when I met you that you were a natural submissive, but I never dreamt we’d fit so well.”
“You mean—hick—you want me—hick? More than her?”
His eyes gleamed. “More than anyone I’ve ever met. Please, Sarah. Forgive me. I’m so sorry I gave you the wrong impression. When I’m in a scene I’m pretty intuitive, knowing what my sub needs. But I can be a real idiot when it comes to relationships.”
A smile twitched at my lips. “You—hick—certainly can—hick—sir.”
He slipped off the swing and knelt in the dirt in front of me. “Let me be clear, for once. I love you, Sarah Gladstone. I want you to come back to New York with me at the end of the season and work with me at the Rep. I know that you’ll be an asset to the company.”
Fireworks exploded in my head. “Really?”
“Really. I want you to live with me. I want to take care of you. I want to show my dungeon. Will you come, little one?”
He looked so beautiful and so vulnerable—as though he really thought I might refuse.
“Yes—hick,” I replied, leaning down to kiss him. “Yes, sir.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” he murmured and now I heard the love there, the love that had been there all along.
I reached for him but he caught hold of my wrists. His powerful grasp made my clit tingle in anticipation.
“Before anything else, though, I know just the thing to get rid of those hiccups.”
“And what’s that—hick—sir?”
With hardly any effort, he pulled me off the swing into his lap. “A good, hard spanking.”
About the Author
I became addicted to words at an early age. I began reading when I was four. I wrote my first story at five years old and my first poem at seven. Since then, I've written plays, tutorials, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and of course, erotica. I'm the author of four erotic novels and two short story collections. I also edited the ground breaking anthology SACRED EXCHANGE, which explores the spiritual aspects of BDSM relationships, and the massive collection CREAM: THE BEST OF THE EROTIC READERS AND WRITERS ASSOCIATION. My short stories have appeared in more than two dozen print collections edited by erotica luminaries such as M. Christian, Maxim Jakubowski, Mitzi Szereto, Rachel Kramer Bussel, and Alison Tyler. In my so-called spare time, I also review books and films for the Erotica Readers and Writers Association (www.erotica-readers.com) and Erotica Revealed (www.eroticarevealed.com), and feature as a Celebrity Author at Custom Erotica Source (www.customeroticasource.com)
My lifelong interests in sex and the written word became serenditipitously entwined about a decade ago when I read my first Black Lace book by Portia da Costa. Her work inspired me to take my fantasies out of the closet (and the private email files) and expose them to the world. The rest, as they say, is history (although granted, no more than a minor footnote!)
I've always loved travelling; my husband seduced me in a Burmese restaurant by telling me tales of his foreign adventures. Since then I have visited every continent except Australia, although I still have a long travel wish list. Currently I live with him and our two exceptional felines in Southeast Asia, where I pursue an alternative career that is completely unrelated to my creative writing.
Email: [email protected]
Lisabet loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Lisabet Sarai
Raw Silk
Incognito
Serpent’s Kiss
Truce of Trust
Necessary Madness
Fire in the Blood
Halloween Heart-throbs: Rendezvous
Bound Brits: Getaway Girl
Brit Party: Monsoon Fever
Brits in Time: Shortest Night
Christmas Spirits: Tomorrow’s Gifts
Gaymes: Crossed Heart
PARADISE OF PLEASURE
Trina Lane
Dedication
To all my fans who love a steamy dominate love story.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Barbie: Mattel Inc.
Hallmark: Hallmark Licensing, Inc.
Sex in the City: Darren Star Productions, Rysher Entertainment, HBO Original Programming
Manolo Blahnik: Manolo Blahnik
Swiss Family Robinson: Walt Disney Productions
Lycra: Invista North America S.A.R.L.
Sauvigon Blanc: Craggy Range Avery Vineyard
Cliff’s Notes: Wiley Publishing, Inc.
YouTube: Google Inc.
Chapter One
“You want me to do what?” Mike Wright exclaimed.
Elaina Roman lifted her chin, and looked straight into the shocked, pale blue eyes of the slack-jawed man across from her. “I want you to tie me up.”
“During sex?”
“Yes.”
“Why on earth would you want something like that? It’s silly and theatrical. What we have is more important than games in bed. At least I thought so.”
“It has nothing to do with games, Mike. A couple who dabbles in BDSM or chooses it as a lifestyle doesn’t have any less of a meaningful relationship. Some would argue that they have stronger base for success because they’re honest about what they need. I want to try, is that so bad?”
“It’s not bad, El. It’s just not us. Isn’t what we have enough? Don’t I satisfy you?”
“What we do is fine, but haven’t you ever wondered if it could be more? We’ve been dating for six months, and I can count the number of orgasms I’ve had on one hand.”
Elaina watched her current boyfriend’s—or imminent ex-boyfriend by the way things were looking—face go pale. His eyes darkened in embarrassment or maybe anger. She still couldn’t read his expressions very well because they surfaced so infrequently.
“So if you’ve had so few orgasms, what’s with all the moaning and gasping when we’re in bed? Are you telling me you’ve been faking this whole time?”
“It’s not that I fake enjoying sex with you. I do enjoy it. You make me feel good. I just rarely ‘get there.’ Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. It’s…”
“It’s what? You started this. Go ahead, spit it out.”
“I was reading this book the other day about female sexual fantasies. In it the woman was describing being tied up by her lover. Being controlled, not by force but quiet authoritative command, and I…god, Mike, it made me so hot I nearly had to run to the ladies’ room in the lounge. I figured if
reading about it got me so turned on, maybe experiencing it would be even better. I want to experience that with you.” Elaina looked down at floor in her Miami Beach condo. The cool travertine tile beneath her bare feet did nothing to dispel the heat in her cheeks.
“El, look at me.” Mike said, quietly.
She met Mike’s iceberg eyes, their placid colour a far cry from the vibrant azure of the ocean outside her balcony. There was no need for more words. She knew his answer. She knew that her risky venture hadn’t paid off. Not only had she lost the opportunity to explore her fantasies but also the companionship of a good man, colleague and lover.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. And I think…if this is really what you want? Then…”
She nodded her head. An errant tear tracked down her face. Mike closed the distance between them and gathered her in his arms. She nuzzled against the side of his face. She regretted the loss, but knew deep inside what they shared wouldn’t be enough in the long run. They wouldn’t survive if this part of their relationship was faulty. Sex wasn’t everything between a couple, but a lack of satisfaction in the relationship was a kill-shot to long-term happiness.
“I never meant to hurt you,” she whispered.
“Oh sweetie, I know. I want you to be happy, and unfortunately this isn’t something I’m prepared to do, to make that happen.”
“What if I got help? What if I—”
Mike shook his head. “El, I saw it in your eyes. This fantasy is not a kink or passing whim. I think this is who you are, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not who I am.”
“I want you to be happy, too,” her voice cracked as her vision swam.
Mike nodded and placed a kiss on her forehead then quietly, slowly walked out the door. Elaina sank down on her couch and pulled a pillow across her lap. She curled up into the foetal position and stared sightlessly at the sage green walls of her small condo. What now? Where did she go from here? Hitting the meat market clubs in SouthBeach didn’t sound appealing. She was thirty-four and all the girls in those clubs were Barbie-oid co-eds. Besides, the hours she spent at the clinic left her with little energy to go out and dance the night away. So what other alternatives were there? Online dating? Elaina shuddered as she recalled some of the horror stories her friends had shared about acquiring e-stalkers. Maybe she should stick with her B-O-B for a while, but honestly, that held little appeal either. She wanted a man’s hot, hard body on top of hers. She wanted that physical connection to another person, not a rubber substitute—even if it did vibrate and twirl in little circles.
It was time for an intervention. Elaina wiped her cheeks and uncurled from around the pillow. She picked up her cell phone, and scrolled through her contacts until she found the person who would have the answers to all her questions. Elaina tapped the photo of her best friend Anne, smiling at the memory of last Halloween when it was taken.
“Hello?”
“Brain?”
“Pinky? What’s up sweetie?”
“You busy tonight?”
“Well, I was going to try to take over the world, but what do you have in mind?”
“Sorry, hun, we’ll have to do that tomorrow night. How does a Sex in the City marathon and take away from Aristotle’s sound?”
“Damn, who did the dumping?”
“It’s a long story. Can you make it? I’ll spill my guts.”
“You have to ask? I won’t even charge you my usual and customary fees.”
“Gee, what a pal,” she responded sarcastically.
“Hey, what are best friends for? I’ll see you in a few.”
“Okay. Thanks, Brain. I’ll make it up to you.”
Elaina hung up the phone and instantly felt better. She knew Anne would talk her through this. Her best friend wasn’t one of the top psychologists in Miami Beach for nothing. Confessing her desires might be on the embarrassing side, but you didn’t spend twenty years as best friends with someone without learning most of their secrets. Hell, she had enough dirt on Anne to fill Biscayne Bay. A quick rejuvenating shower was in order to cleanse her spirit, then she’d get the DVDs set up. She knew Anne would pick up the takeout on her way over. She wasn’t sure why, but she had a feeling that things were going to work out. With a smile on her face, Elaina headed for bathroom.
* * * *
Elaina leant over the side of the mahogany launch that had taken her from Key West to her destination on a small, private island. The sight before her was one of fantasies. Sculpted ridges glistening in the sun, the scent of coconut oil in the air, and the heat that caressed Elaina’s skin as the man captured her hand to assist her onto the dock made her insides quiver with anticipation. The landscape wasn’t anything to sniff at either. White, powdered sand floated across the land, palm trees swayed in the warm, gentle ocean air and turquoise water lapped at the shore as if it was a lover’s tongue.
“Ms. Roman? My name is Lucas. I’m the resort manager.”
Elaina realised that her hand was still within Lucas’ grasp, but his touch felt too good to relinquish just yet. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for the personal service. It’s not something you see much anymore.”
Lucas smiled. “We strive to make every service we provide personal.”
Elaina thought the line was a little cheesy but Lucas’ smile was magical.
“Will your Master be joining you later?”
What Master? She didn’t have a Master. She’d ventured here looking for the right man to fill the role, however temporary. Elaina didn’t want this sun-kissed vision before her to kick her off the island before she could experience all it had to offer, so naturally, she fibbed. “Yes. I was instructed to come early and prepare our room.” That sounded like something a submissive would say, didn’t it?
Lucas smiled and tightened his hand around Elaina’s. “Then let’s get you checked in. I’ll show you to the reception lodge.”
They walked along a sun-bleached boardwalk. Bluer-than-blue water lapped at the pillars sunk into the foundation of the island. The warm air caressed Elaina’s skin, and lifted her thick hair from her shoulders. The tropical heat sank into her muscles, loosening the tightness, which had invaded with the anxiety of taking on such an adventure. The tops of thatched roofs from the private bungalows dotted the horizon. Every available space between them seemed to be filled with green foliage shielding the island from the skies above.
The reception building emerged from the thicket. It was two stories tall with wooden verandahs that begged for moonlight strolls with a lover. Gauzy white sheers floated in the breeze, tempting passers-by to investigate the welcome found within its walls. The entire setting was so idyllic Elaina had a hard time reconciling it with the reputation the island had for catering to couples who lived a BDSM lifestyle. The one image seemed almost the antithesis of the other.
As they entered the lodge, Elaina saw what she assumed was the reception desk. Lucas stepped in front of her before she could head in that direction.
“I regret that I must leave you here as I have other duties to attend to. I hope your stay with us lets you experience everything you desire.”
“Thank you. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“I’m quite sure you will. I’m a very hands-on manager,” Lucas finished, smiling.
Elaina squared her shoulders and headed for the reception area. It was time to find out just what this place had to offer. Time to see if it held the answers to her questions about herself and her desires.
“Was that her?” Derrick Collins asked Lucas when the man joined him on the verandah outside his office.
“Yep. When I asked whether her Master would be joining her later, she hesitated for a second, then smoothly said she’d been sent to prepare their room.”
Derrick’s hands tightened on the railing. The rope lashing the joints together bit into his skin and he looked out to the ocean. “Reporter?”
Lucas joined Derrick at the railing. “I don’t think so. Her expressions were so
open and genuine. I think she truly wants to be here, but maybe didn’t realise that this was a couples’ resort. What do you want to do with her?”
“Play it by ear. If she starts to snoop we’ll ship her off with the first high tide, but if…did you see the way the light hit that mahogany hair of hers? How her pale skin glimmered in the sun? Is it as soft as it looked?” Derrick asked softly.
Lucas smiled. “Oh yes. And she has the most incredible dove grey eyes you’ll ever see. So large you can read everything within their depths.”
“Hmmm. Then to blindfold them would be a shame. I wonder how that soft skin would mark?”
“Derrick? What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” he responded, quickly.
“No, it’s something. Talk to me.”
He turned to face Lucas, his long-time friend and manager. “Well, we want to keep an eye on her, and we know she has no Master. I’m without a sub—”
Lucas crossed his arms and stared at Derrick. “And that’s the only reason?” He arched one eyebrow.
“Of course, what other reason would there be?”
“Maybe you like what you saw? Maybe you want to spend time with her? Ever since Caro—”
Derrick threw up his hand. “Don’t say it. I’m not looking for a permanent sub. We saw how that turned out last time. I’m content mingling with my guests and providing them with what they need.”
Lucas placed a hand on Derrick’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to spend your life content. I want you to be happy. We both know that you’ll never find that mingling among your guests. You need a sub of your own. You need someone to belong to you. Someone to fill the emptiness inside you.”
He shrugged off Lucas’ hand. “Have you been reading Hallmark cards online again? Besides, I don’t see you all worried about being alone. You’ve never had someone permanent.”