Halloween Heat VI: Contemporary Erotic Romance

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Halloween Heat VI: Contemporary Erotic Romance Page 5

by Brooklyn Wilde Mina Carter


  “I’d love to see your chainsaw carvings sometime.” She was intrigued by his artistic side.

  He tilted his head sideways, as if appraising her sincerity. “Very well, Elizabeth, I’ll take you to the hotel lounge later. A few of my carvings are on display there.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Elizabeth. He’d used her full name, as was his custom on the computer, but hearing it fall from his lips for the first time caused her heart to stop. She took a sip of wine and peered at him over the glass. His movements were regal, and he emitted confidence, but not the arrogant kind of confidence a quiet people-watcher like Liz could spot a mile away.

  They finished their meal, and the waiter returned to clear the table. Next, he brought out a large slice of tiramisu with two forks. The sweet coffee and mocha flavored cream melted in Liz’s mouth, and she couldn’t repress a moan after the first bite.

  “Should I be jealous of the dessert?”

  Flushing, Liz dabbed a napkin to her mouth to hide her slight embarrassment. She placed the napkin back on her lap and met his gaze, willing herself to be brave. The atmosphere in the room transformed as she stared into his eyes. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the full moon, but the statement that came out of Liz’s mouth next was so bold she wondered if an invisible devil on her shoulder had fed her the words.

  “Jacob, I have no doubt you can make me moan louder than the tiramisu.”

  His fork clattered on the plate. Silence hung heavy in the air, and time seemed to stand still as she awaited his response. The waiter returned to clear the rest of their plates, and Jacob remained quiet as he stared down Liz from across the table. His expression took a predatory turn, and he rose to his feet. Not breaking eye contact, he methodically rolled up his sleeves. He looked menacing and full of resolve. He looked like a no-nonsense man preparing to spank a naughty girl.

  Liz gasped.

  He smiled. “I might have said I’d give you a sound thrashing the next time you were late, but I never said I wouldn’t give you one tonight.”

  * * *

  Liz, beautiful and petite, squirmed in her seat as she nervously twirled one braid around her fingers. She had plenty reasons to be nervous.

  Jacob moved around the table toward Elizabeth and folded his arms across his chest. She sank lower in her chair. The contrast of her pleading blue eyes against her silky black hair and dark skin was startling, and he’d found it difficult not to gawk at her all evening. The fringes decorating the breast of her shirt reflected in the light as her chest rose and fell in little puffs. The thought of wielding his hand against her bare bottom left his cock swelling rigid with need.

  “Stand up, Elizabeth.”

  She obeyed and stood before him with her head lowered, the braids hanging over the front of her shoulders. He reached forward and jerked one of her braids, just hard enough to get her attention and draw her eyes to his.

  “I’m sorry I was late, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  “If it happens again, you can expect an even longer session over my knee.”

  He basked in the vulnerable expression she displayed, as well as the slight tremble of her hands. Despite her visible fear, he’d bet his entire fortune her panties were already soaked, and he intended to discover that for himself soon. In their last online conversation, they’d decided to set no limits on how far they would go on their first date. A short time around Elizabeth, and he understood her. Her eyes exposed her secret yearnings, and he knew she’d be disappointed if he didn’t spank her tonight.

  Spinning on his heel, Jacob fetched a chair and dragged it several feet away from the table. He sat down, hands flat on his knees, back ramrod straight, and his eyes full of challenge, silently daring Elizabeth to place herself over his lap. He wouldn’t force her—this time. If they entered a more permanent relationship, he would obtain her blanket consent and paddle her bottom good on his schedule, whether she protested or not. This first time, however, she had to take the first step and submit by coming to him. Once she did, he would take over and push her limits of endurance. She’d never experienced a real spanking before, and he had to make certain she could handle all a relationship with him entailed.

  A heavy ball of unease settled low in his stomach as he awaited her next move. Would she submit?

  “Take off your boots.”

  Elizabeth exhaled and slipped out of her cowgirl boots. Taking slow, deliberate steps, she made her way to Jacob barefoot. She lingered at his side for a moment, took a deep breath, and then lowered her body across his lap. There. She’d done it. She’d placed her trust in Jacob and yielded to his authority. He shifted her higher over his right knee and wrapped his left leg around hers.

  “You’ve been a very bad girl.” He used his sternest tone.

  She wiggled and her body rubbed against his painful erection. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was husky with a mixture of lust and fright.

  Taking his time, Jacob pushed her skirt up to bunch at her waist. Plain white cotton panties covered her little bottom, and he examined them in awe. He’d shared his love for white panties with Elizabeth during one of their first chats online, and he doubted she’d selected this pair of underwear by chance.

  “Beautiful.”

  He ran a hand over her backside, caressing the area he was about to punish, squeezing and rubbing through her panties and paying equal attention to the flesh outside her panty line as well. A surge of possessiveness rocketed through him as he fondled her bottom, causing a brief disorientation to shake him to the core. His desire for the woman draped across his lap spiked like a thermometer in boiling water, and his movements stilled.

  Time for the bare-bottom spanking he’d promised her.

  He raised her skirt high over a tiny but shapely ass, and pushed a pair of perfect white cotton panties to her lower thighs. The view was perfection.

  Smack! Jacob delivered a swift blow to her right cheek. He struck her left cheek with the same force, and set a rapid rhythm of slaps as his hand connected soundly to her bottom. She gasped and squirmed, and when her hands flew back he effortlessly pinned them to the small of her back.

  “Bad girl,” he scolded. He placed a few intense swats to the yet untouched sensitive flesh of her upper thighs.

  “Oh!” she squealed. She struggled against his firm hold, but her exertions were useless. Jacob wasn’t releasing her, and he wasn’t about to settle for a few playful smacks either. Elizabeth would receive the real spanking she craved, and even a tearful plea wouldn’t sway his determination. Besides, she had been fifteen minutes late. She both craved it and deserved it.

  The dark skin on her bottom turned a bright shade of red under Jacob’s skillful hand. When she struggled anew or pleaded for him to stop, he responded with sharp slaps to her thighs. It wasn’t long before the color of her thighs matched that of her punished backside.

  “Will you be on time for our next date?” He didn’t miss a beat as he continued spanking.

  “Ow! Yes. I promise.” Her voice was scratchy and full of emotion.

  “All right. Ten more slaps and then I’m sending you the corner.”

  As promised, Jacob smacked her bottom ten more times, hard slaps designed to push her to the brink of tolerance. She howled and twisted on his lap, and by the time he finished, he heard her sniffling. His heart contracted to hear her cry, but at the same time his soul rejoiced. She’d confided her desire to cry during a spanking to him. Once she was back on her feet with his help, he held her out by the shoulders to study her face. As suspected, a few tears had fallen, but she wasn’t sobbing uncontrollably. He’d take her that far one day, probably after she earned a punishment for a crime more severe than showing up late for date, but not today.

  “Are you OK?”

  She took a shaky breath. “Yes, I am.”

  “Good.” He swiped the moisture away from her face. “Go stand in the corner. Now.”

  An appreciation for corner time was another thing they shared in co
mmon. Jacob pointed to the nearest corner, and she shuffled over with her white panties around her ankles. She put her nose in the corner and began pushing her denim skirt down.

  “No,” he growled, marching to her side. “I want your skirt up, your panties down, and your naughty red bottom on display.”

  “OK. I…I’m sorry, sir.” Anxiety threaded her words.

  Jacob smiled and patted her bottom twice before returning to his seat. Minutes passed as he observed Elizabeth, admiring the vision of her lovely punished backside and the white panties gathered around her ankles. Her smooth, waxed folds protruded from between her thighs like the sweetest temptation. His balls tightened, and a rush of burning desire stiffened his cock further.

  Enough corner time. He had to discover how damp her pussy had grown from the spanking. With his gaze on her most intimate parts, he approached the soundly spanked young lady and ran a finger up the inside of her thigh. She jumped and yelped, but kept her nose in the corner like a good girl. As he suspected, her juices had run down her leg, betraying her arousal. He cupped her smooth mound, and she groaned.

  “Your pussy is soaking wet, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.” She shuddered and pressed her center back against his hand.

  “You’re very naughty, Elizabeth. I’m going to have to bend you over the table and fuck that tight, wet pussy of yours. You need to be taught a lesson.” He paused and circled to her other side. “Step out of your panties.”

  She complied and kicked them off her feet while casting a glance his way. The intense need in her eyes was the only answer he needed, and his lips sought hers with a great urgency he didn’t attempt to restrain. Grabbing her face between his hands, he deepened the kiss, their first kiss, and glided his tongue against her lips and farther inside. She tasted like tiramisu and wine, and the heat flaming between their bodies rose to scorching as he pressed his groin against her stomach. God, he wanted her now.

  He broke the kiss and roughly led her to the table. It was clear of everything but the burning candle and the rose petals, and it was the perfect height to bend a young lady over for a hard fuck.

  “Over the table with you.” He gave her a push.

  Elizabeth bent over, spread her legs wide, and arched her red bottom out like an offering. There was no time to undress. He’d die if he didn’t have her now. In haste, he unfastened his trousers and freed his cock. He moaned in relief while fisting his stiff length. He trailed a finger over her moist, plump pussy lips. A tiny shudder seized her body and a desperate moan escaped her throat. Impatient little thing, he mused. After spreading her slick juices around, he circled the pad of his thumb over her swollen clit.

  “Oh! Jacob, I can’t stand it. Please. Fuck me now.”

  Her frantic plea was his final undoing. Inside his wallet he found a condom, tore the wrapper open, and slipped it down over his cock. Pulse racing, he took position behind Elizabeth and rammed straight into her hot center. Oh, she was tight, and he stilled briefly to savor the tautness of her pussy walls clamping down around his length. When he rocked inside her, it felt like a burst of blinding ecstasy. He dug his fingers into her hips and surged faster, driving in and out with a punishing momentum. One glance at her reddened bottom, thrust back to meet his strokes, and he became fully lost in carnal pleasure.

  “Rub your clit, Elizabeth.”

  “What?”

  “Rub your clit. I want to you to come. I want to feel your tight pussy spasm around my cock.”

  She shifted and reached a hand between her thighs, and Jacob gathered her braids in one hand and yanked hard enough to make her squeak. The smell of her arousal beckoned him, and he imagined gliding his tongue through her folds and swirling it around her sensitive nub until she writhed shamelessly against his mouth. Next time.

  Satisfaction coursed through Jacob as he pounded into Elizabeth. His mind replayed the spanking. The mental visual of slapping her bare bottom escalated his feverish responses, and the pace of his strokes increased to a brutal point. Black spots dotted his eyesight, and his balls tensed and quivered white-hot. She groaned underneath him as her pussy pulsed and contracted around his cock. The sensation of her walls constricting pushed him over the edge and into a powerful release that sent shockwaves through his whole system and left his arms and legs tingling and weak.

  When Jacob’s senses returned, he pulled out of Elizabeth and disposed of the condom before she tried to rise up. She looked as spent as he felt, and he marveled at the passion they had generated. He led her toward the same chair he’d spanked her on and cradled her in his lap like a kitten. She clung to him for dear life, and the floral scent of her shampoo mingled with the unmistakable scent of sex.

  “Did you learn your lesson, young lady?” He employed the same stern tone he’d used earlier.

  She met his gaze and smiled. “Yes, sir. I won’t be late for our next date.”

  He pulled one of her braids and leaned so close their noses almost touched. “I’m sure I’ll find another reason to punish you. This cowboy has lots and lots of rules.”

  Masquerade

  Rhonda Laurel

  “Your greatest desires beckon…”

  When Sydney Porter opened the elegant, gold-embossed invitation, she couldn’t believe her eyes. The Illuminatus Masquerade Ball held every year on Halloween was an exclusive event. So exclusive, that the attendees were not willing to discuss it afterward. She’d known a few friends who’d received invitations in the past and she’d waited with bated breath the next day for juicy details but was always told the same rehearsed statement. Hushed tales of decadent aphrodisiac foods, décor that could have been handpicked by Aphrodite herself, and elaborate costumes that were made from the finest fabrics was the only information she could get out of them. Nor would they divulge how they got the invitation.

  There was no address to RVSP. A simple note at the bottom of the invite instructed her to wear the white feather, which would be enclosed in a beautiful black lacquer box, somewhere on her person the day after she received it. Sydney looked at her calendar. Halloween was on a Saturday, and it happened to be a full moon that night. This was getting better by the minute.

  She wondered who had sent her the invitation. She craved some excitement in her life. When her ex-boyfriend Daniel had broken up with her last year, his parting words were that sex with her was ‘upright and uptight’ and it was driving him crazy. The missionary position was her modus operandi, but maybe it was time to see what pleasures her uptight behavior had been denying her. What outfit would complement a white feather? Going to the ball was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and she was thrilled to get the chance to see what magical delights the full moon would bring on All Hallows’ Eve.

  “Leave your inhibitions behind…”

  * * *

  As the black Town Car pulled up to the gates of the mansion, Sydney knew this was the point of no return. She fussed with her costume. It was a bit risqué for her, even for Halloween. During her shopping excursions over the past couple of weeks, she’d settled for a cranberry colored Victorian corset-style top but decided against a long flowing skirt that would normally accompany it. Instead she went with a poufy mini dress to show her shapely legs and black thigh high stockings with a seam running down the back. She stepped into her stilettos and pulled her long, brown hair into a hair clip, leaving one long ringlet that she strategically placed between her breasts.

  The chauffer opened the door for her and motioned to the pathway that led to the front entrance. The grounds were dimly lit with the exception of the walkway, giving the place a macabre feel. It was regal and unassuming, with manicured bushes in the shapes of animals, and not one blade of grass was out of place. This is the kind of house you saw in the beginning of horror movies. It was perfection at first glance, but the closer you got to the door, a feeling of uncertainty began to overwhelm you.

  Sydney tried to steady her hand as she pressed the doorbell. It opened immediately and a very tall, muscul
ar man in a tuxedo jacket, a pair of leather chaps, and a mask greeted her. Sydney smiled. The outfit left little to the imagination.

  “Ms. Porter. We’ve been expecting you,” he said in a soothing voice and turned to show her the way.

  Sydney pulled out the lace fan she’d put in her purse and hoped the breeze would bring her body temperature down. Watching the doorman’s ass and hearing the rubbing of the chaps put her in a euphoric trance. By the time they stopped in the main room, he could have led her into a dungeon for all she knew or cared.

  “This is the main room,” he said with a devilish smile. “We have a wonderful spread, for whatever suits your appetite.”

  “Thank you.” Sydney forced herself to shift her eyes from the vision of the crotch-less chaps. He was hung quite beautifully. Not too big or too small but certainly worthy of the daydream she was bound to have tomorrow.

  * * *

  Sydney nibbled a shrimp and perused the room. Classical music played as the guests mingled and flirted. There were a variety of costumes there but everyone wore a mask. That was a requirement. The invitation stated that the masks could not be removed for any reason. If you did, you would be asked to leave immediately.

  She accepted a flute of champagne that was offered to her and was just starting to relax when a tall blonde woman wearing fire-engine-red lipstick, a shiny black corset, and stiletto heels approached her carrying a black bag.

  “Ms. Porter, are you having a nice time?” The woman spoke with what Sydney thought was a French accent.

  Sydney smiled. “Yes, thanks. How is it that everyone here knows my name?”

  The woman began to circle Sydney, scanning her body. She circled again, this time getting a little closer to her. She took her finger and slowly wound it through the ringlet of curls that rested on Sydney’s breasts.

 

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