by Dakota Trace
His chest heaved, and he shook his head. “Too close, Mistress. Put it back on. I have to last as long as you need.”
Surprise filtered through her. She’d expected him to brag about his stamina, not to ask for a return of the ring. Her heart melted a bit. “Fine.” She re-snapped the device, then checked to make sure it wasn’t pinching anything important. She rose to her feet. Yanking the tank top the rest of the way off, she dropped it to the floor before reaching for the snap on her shorts. She ripped open the fastening and shucked her shorts and panties in one smooth move. Dammit, if this was the only time she would get to fuck him, she wouldn’t waste it by having half of her clothing on.
“For honesty, slave, you get a small reward.” Delving inside her wet pussy, she gathered her juices and painted his lips with them. “Suck.”
His tongue curled around her finger and tugged it inside the hot cavern of his mouth. “Mmmm.”
When she drew away, he groaned. “You taste so good, Mistress, that all I want to do is eat your pussy.” His panted as she climbed back on his lap, this time facing away from him.
“Later,” she promised as she centered herself over his cock. Pressing the head into her opening, she lowered her body onto his shaft. She groaned as his thick length stretched her. It had been so long since she’d taken a man inside her, and he was long and hard. It took several long minutes before she sank all the way down on him. The room filled with her gasps and her slave’s groans.
“So tight, Mistress.” His breath puffed over her shoulder. He rocked upward, sliding along her sensitive tissues.
“You fill me,” she agreed. Using her strong legs for balance, she began to slowly ride him, careful not to buck too hard and knock him off the ottoman. Ever-spreading tingles buffeted her each time she rose and sank. She needed more, but her sadistic nature wanted, no needed to drag it out. Against her neck, his heavy pants teased her sensitive skin.
“Please, Mistress.” His lips skittered over the base of her neck. Gooseflesh raced down her arms, coaxing her need higher when he sucked on the flesh.
“No hickies, slave. My boss will ask questions.” She bounced a bit faster at his growl, but slowed once more when he moved with her. “Be still. Let me have my fun.”
He froze and for a second, Venus though he would dump her from her perch, but he didn’t. Instead he braced his legs and leaned back enough to give her more room to move. “As you will, Mistress.” The words were tight with need.
Then she unleashed her inner Domme, riding him slow, then fast, then back again until he writhed under her. His chest heaved against her back, and his groans were raw. Her body trembled on the edge, but she refused to go over without him. She would not be alone in her release. Her slave would come with her. She slammed down one more time, before she slipped forward enough to reach the cock ring.
“God damnit, Venus, finish it.” His nostrils flared and he nipped her shoulder.
She froze, the reality of what they were doing hit her. It wasn’t Mistress V fucking her sub, it was Venus. “Ah….”
“Don’t you dare stop!” He bucked under her and rubbed across her G-spot. “Because, so help me God, if you do, when I get free I’ll hunt your sexy ass down and fuck you ’til you can’t walk.”
She snarled at him as she wrenched open the snap on his cock ring, then braced herself on his knees. “Like hell you will. Damn topping-from-the-bottom bastard. I’ll show you,” she gritted out. Her fingers dug into his legs as she rode him fast and hard. Behind her, he groaned.
“Shit…I’m gonna…can I come, Mistress?”
Unable to delay her own orgasm any longer, she gave in. “Come for me, slave.”
Under her, he bucked up, only her forward weight on his legs kept them from toppling off the ottoman. His wild bucks sent her careening over the edge. Vicious pleasure battered her as she clung to his knees.
The room rang with their shouts of completion.
***
The sun had begun to peek over the horizon when Venus woke. Her hand patted the cool spot on the bed next to her and she sighed. Opening her eyes, she took stock of her surroundings. Her body ached pleasantly from her night with Wyk, but as she’d expected, he was gone. The red sleep mask that rested on the pillow next to hers was the only indication the night had been real. She touched the edge of it with fingers that trembled. It was hard to believe it was over. Especially after the experience they’d shared.
After their first explosive mating, neither had let the illusion of their time together drop. She’d uncuffed him and led him to her bedroom, where they’d spent almost the entire night making love. She’d been in control each and every time they came together. Except for the last time. Hazy memories of waking face down and on her knees as Wyk slowly joined their bodies, sent a weak spurt of desire through her. He was so gentle, I didn’t even protest. She stilled at the thought. But now it’s over.
Her glorious one-night stand had been everything she’d hoped it would be, her body sated to the point she shouldn’t want sex for a while. Well at least not until Wyk walks into the room. She’d have to remember to write an e-mail to thank Madame Eve when she got home—after she got done crying. This little venture had cost her more than the money she’d paid for Madame Eve’s exclusive services. When she returned to Chicago, she’d be in the market for a new job, because she wouldn’t be able to work under him now. Sure, she’d give her two weeks’ notice; she couldn’t leave her boss high and dry. However, she didn’t think she could watch the parade of women resume—not that there had been many, in the past few months since her confession.
As she kicked the blankets off, the door to the bedroom opened. Wyk, in just his exercise shorts, walked in. The sight of all his dark skin distracted her from the breakfast tray in his hands. But when he set his burden down between them. Belgian waffles, crispy bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs filled the air with their heavenly aromas. Her mouth watered.
“Madame Eve thought of everything. Even fresh-squeezed orange juice.” He smiled, his dimple flashing. “The manager brought it up along with this for both of us.”
She hesitated for a moment, before reaching for the crisp buff envelope between their plates. The flap fell loose.
“You opened it?”
He handed her a glass of juice. “Yes. Why don’t you eat, while I grab a shower, Mistress?” He pressed a quick kiss to her temple then disappeared into the bathroom.
She couldn’t help but stare as mist drifted through the open door. Perhaps he shared her love of hot showers as well, but the thought didn’t comfort her. Instead his easy acceptance and nonchalance as he brought her breakfast in bed pissed her off.
“How the hell can he act as if he didn’t rock my world last night? Does he honestly think he can use me to scratch his itch then have everything return to normal this morning? That I will just let him jump in my shower like nothing happened, so he can go on his merry way?” Her ire at the situation continued to build when she heard him singing—of all things—as he washed away the evidence of their night together.
She opened the envelope, to keep from strangling the man. Lucky they would go their separate ways. She’d end up killing him if they stayed together. How could she ever have believed he could be the one for her when he acted this way? It hurt her to think he hadn’t experienced the same connection she had.
She stared down at the heavy stationary. She expected to find a standard thank you from 1Night Stand and a referral card to give to a friend. Instead, she found three words scrawled in a feminine hand.
Believe—Madame Eve
Her jaw dropped. How had the woman known she would doubt the connection between her and Wyk? Completely freaked, she lunged from the bed. She had to leave now.
***
As he dried off, Wyk whistled softly. He’d never felt better. After a night of passionate lovemaking that had rocked him to the core, he’d woken up wrapped around his Mistress’s lush form. Despite the fact neither of them had g
otten more than three hours of sleep, he felt like a million bucks—like he could take on the world single-handed. Especially since, when he’d called down to order their breakfast, the manager had agreed to extend their stay through the weekend.
Now he had to convince his Mistress to spend the rest of the weekend together in Vegas. They could use their time together, between bouts of loving, to figure out the logistics of continuing their relationship when they returned to Chicago. He would never let Venus get away from him. He’d transfer her to another department if she didn’t want to work under him anymore. He wouldn’t give up his Mistress. She’d filled the hole inside of him with her dominant but loving nature. Something he would never find on any corner.
Wyk studied his reflection as he shaved his face and head. He’d swiped her razor, but he didn’t think she’d mind, since he used it to keep him tidy like she’d asked. The rest of his toilette didn’t take long because he didn’t plan on leaving the suite anytime soon. He wandered out into the bedroom, nude. After their night together, he had nothing to hide. Perhaps, he’d finally get his mouth on her pretty little cunt. He’d been good, really good. Well other than the last time, but she’d just too tempting, all she snuggled down into the sheets.
He froze in the doorway when he found Venus throwing things into her overnight case, dressed in the same outfit she’d worn the night before. Panic rushed through him. Had she had second thoughts while he showered?
“Mistress, what are you doing?”
Her head flew up. “Don’t call me that! I’m not….” Her eyes darted away as she slammed the lid shut on the case. “I have to get out of here.”
“Why? We don’t have to be back to work until Monday. Which reminds me we need to talk.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I know.” She shoved her feet into her shoes. “I’ll e-mail you.”
Frustration rocked him. “What do you mean you’ll e-mail me?”
She looked up. “My resignation. Then we can forget this ever happened—”
“Red.” He whispered the word just loud enough for her to hear.
She gave him a confused glance. “Excuse me?”
He stalked her until he had her pinned up against the bed. His slight shove sent her tumbling onto the mattress. Before she could scramble away, he followed her down. “You said ‘red’ stops everything.”
She nodded, her face flushed. “Yeah, it does.”
“Good. Then I’m calling ‘red’ right now. You can’t run from this. From me.”
Licking her lips, she gazed up at him. “I can’t?”
“No. You may be my Mistress, I may even let you control our sex life, but I’m a possessive bastard. I won’t let you go because you’re worried about what others think.” He nuzzled her neck. “Believe in us.”
She nibbled on her lower lip. “This isn’t something your friends and family will understand or even accept. I want to collar you, Wyk. To place my mark at your throat. This isn’t a game to me. Or some kink I enjoy from time to time. This is my reality. If you accept my collar, I will own you—body, heart, and soul.”
His heart turned over at her words. After snagging the tray, the one they were damned lucky they hadn’t spilled when they landed on the bed, he tugged the thin collar out from under the plate cover. He pressed it into her palm. When her beautiful green eyes lit up, he closed her fingers around the leather that would mark him as hers.
“You already own me, Mistress. All you have to do is believe.” Then he tipped his head to offer his throat. Seconds dragged by as he waited. Had he gotten through her stubborn head he was where he wanted to be?
It seemed to take forever but he felt the slide of leather against his skin as she fastened the collar in place. Peace settled over him. “Thank you, Mistress.” His fingers found the small metal tag and the letters engraved on it.
“Believe, huh?” She whispered the word and brushed his hand aside. She studied the tag for a moment, then her eyes met his. “Very appropriate. I wonder how she knew.”
“Don’t know, but I’m glad she did.” He dipped his head until their noses touched. “I believe in us. Can you, Mistress?”
Her answer came in the form of a physical caress. He groaned when she scratched his scalp with her nails. His eyes drifted shut as the sting went straight to his dick.
“Looks like I don’t have much choice, do I? Considering my slave has already told me I can’t run from him.”
“No running.” He shook his head. “It’s my hard limit,” he gasped when her fingers dug into his shoulders.
“Then I suggest you thank me with that mouth of yours, slave. I want to see if you’re as good as you say you are.” She nipped his lower lip and gave his shoulders a shove.
“Does that mean you want me to eat your pussy, Mistress?” He settled between her splayed thighs and slipped his hands under her ass.
“Almost as much as you do.” She cupped the back of his head and pushed him closer to her wet folds. “Now eat me. Or it will be ten lashes from the crop for you.”
Happiness filled him. This was exactly what he wanted. “Yes, Mistress.”
~About the Author~
Dakota is a simple Midwest girl, who found her passion in storytelling at a young age. She wrote her first novel her freshman year on an old electric IBM typewriter. Now writing in several different genres from erotic romance and BDSM to m/m and paranormal, she is a published author with multiple books under her belt. When she isn’t writing, she’s a devoted band mom and a loving wife.
You can visit with Dakota at www.dakotatrace.net
Blind Need
Two wounded souls, one blind and the other scarred, are matched up by the famous Madame Evangeline—neither one expecting more than a brief meeting of two bodies in the dark for one night.
Xaviera Navarro had it all, a wonderful career ahead of her running her family’s wine business, a sexy fiancé, and her dream-wedding around the corner, but that all changed in the blink of an eye. A freak accident has left the Navarro wine heiress blind with no future other than the company of her seeing-eye dog, Lucy. After licking her wounds, she finally is tired of her own company and ventures out in hopes of finding a man who might be strong enough to stand beside her but not in front of her. If she can’t have that, she’ll settle for a night of hot loving before returning home.
Ignatius "Nate" Ramirez is not only a scarred fire-jumper with a justifiably bad attitude toward women, he’s also under strict orders by his Captain that if he doesn’t get laid on his vacation, he’s going to bench him. After finding out about 1Night Stand, he requests Madame Evangeline find him the perfect fantasy woman to have under the cover of darkness. Figuring he’ll have a better chance with his date with all the lights out, he wasn’t expecting a feisty, no punches pulled heiress to knock him off his feet.
A blind woman and a scarred fire-jumper should be a match made in heaven, but will Nate and Xaviera manage to leave their baggage at the door and find love all in one night.
His Just Desserts
Growing up in a foster home in a small Midwest town, Sean Whitcomb planned from the day he turned sixteen to somehow escape. And he does to the big city of Des Moines at a lawyer’s firm. Now up for a shot at a partnership, he needs to deliver the goods, and it’s not what he thinks. No, it’s a family style meal for the founding partners and their spouses. Which causes Sean a major issue, because not only is he a single gay man, but he can’t cook to save his life, and his boss is expecting a home cooked meal — complete with a family or there will be no partnership offer.
In desperation, Sean turns to the man he left behind in his pursuit of the golden ring, Isaiah Waterston. Not only is Isaiah hot enough to still turn Sean’s crank but he’s also a world class chef at one of the hottest eateries in town. Now all he has to do is convince the man he’d left behind to give him a single night of his time, prepare a mouth-watering meal, and pretend to be his lover for a few hours. Sounds easy right? Well it is until
Isaiah attaches his own stipulation –an entire weekend with Sean at his mercy.
Contents
Title page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
~About the Author~