by January Rowe
I ended up surprising myself.
I started to cry. Fat tears dribbled down my cheeks, falling onto Chris’s chest. I would have to say goodbye to the best man I’d ever known. Damn, I hurt. My tears horrified me, though. I couldn’t stand the sub who manipulated her Dom by crying. I swiped away my tears with the back of my hand, impatient. With all my standards and pride, I was acting sloppy and undignified.
“Beat me,” I said again.
The look on Chris’s face was defenseless. “No.”
His mercy made it infinitely worse. I should have honored him with one last act of proper surrender. I’d ruined it for him. “I’m not crying because I’m afraid of correction. I’m just sad. I’m sad because I can’t risk being your wife. I can’t transition to vanilla.”
His earth-colored eyes narrowed. “I don’t expect you to turn vanilla. You are who you are.” He raked a hand through his short hair and expelled a sigh. “I had no idea you’d be so afraid of marriage. Or of riding lawn mowers, for that matter. My proposal isn’t an ultimatum, Briony. It’s an offer.”
Relief sliced through me. “You still want to own me?”
“Yes. Forever and ever. But maybe you’ll say yes to marriage someday. I want you to be mine and mine alone. I want to take care of you.”
I shook my head. “I won’t say yes. That whole concept of ‘taking care’ of me is just too, too vanilla.”
“Kinda depends on your definition of care.” He pinched my bare, buttered ass. Hard.
Drawing me into his carved chest, he rolled us over, engulfing me in his love and control. The boat, the sea, the entire world, disappeared. Simply disappeared.
***
Profile of sweetsub
Thank you to all of you who have written me. I apologize if I haven’t been able to respond. I’m signing off whyknot. I have found my One, and I want to devote my attentions to him right now.
All my best,
sweetsub
***
I loved to go sailing with Chris. Sadly, he never did allow me to be the boat’s nude figurehead. He didn’t tie me up to a palm tree, either. But we played plenty. He always kept me off-balance. I loved having all that attention and energy focused on me.
His inventive scenes often involved kajira Emerald. Sometimes Chris was Master. Not always, though. Handsome Master couldn’t be around much because of all of his business trips. Concerned I’d be in agony if I didn’t have regular sex with a Dominant man, Master invited his manly Gorean friends to come over to keep me properly fucked while he was out of town. Those scenes were a blast. I got to be wanton and hot, plus experience polyamory with a variety of sexy hunks (all of them Chris). One of those men, so potent, so masculine, wanted me for himself. He purchased me from Master. So I ended up with a new Master, even sexier and more devoted than my first.
Chris would never put up with real cuckoldry. Indeed, in his own way, he was as hyper-possessive as Ridge. Unlike the DM of my little fantasy, Chris never made me a rope dress, and he never played with me in public. Displaying me on the wheel at Hell Mary’s was the furthest thing from his mind.
Once, during a tender aftercare session, he told me he’d never take me—or my submission—for granted. That was the very definition of romance in the kink world. I finally said the words that would change me forever. I consented to marry him.
We formalized our relationship in front of family and friends, both kink and vanilla, on a beautiful October day. Pam was my maid of honor. She was so thrilled I’d finally snagged myself a “nice guy”—and a doctor to boot. Sterling even came to the ceremony. He gave us a wedding gift of exotic toys and a lifetime membership to the Vault. Chris will never use the toys. His body—and his imagination—will always be enough.
Our wedding was casual. I wore a demure petal-pink cotton dress, and Chris got fancy, wearing pleated khakis along with a striped button-down shirt. In deference to our Emerald play, he slipped a thick band of gold, inset with emeralds, on my left finger. Not a collar, but a symbol of love and trust nonetheless.
Chris is more than my husband, though. He’s my lover, my mate, and my partner. He’s also my Dominant, my Master, my interrogator, my owner, my Top, my Sir.
My One.
About the Author
January Rowe is happily married and lives in Colorado. She’s a mother and a scientist who loves to garden and cheer at women’s basketball games. To her teenage daughter’s disgust, January also enjoys dancing around the house to the Black Eyed Peas. To learn more about January Rowe, please visit her at http://JanuaryRowe.blogspot.com. You may also send an email to January at [email protected].
Only one way to trust her—teach her the true meaning of tamed.
Terms of Surrender
© 2009 Becky Barker
Years ago, Cassie Pallard let her wild and headstrong nature cost her the best thing in her life: Brody Chambers. Older and wiser, she’s back to try to heal the hurt and win her way back into his heart—and his bed.
Not so fast, says Brody. He loved Cassie most of his life, but her temper-driven desertion destroyed his faith in her and their future. If she wants his trust, she’ll have to earn it. Before he opens his heart again, he plans to make it clear his love comes with strings.
And handcuffs. And a blindfold…
Warning: This one’s short and hot with some BDSM, so not for the faint of heart.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Terms of Surrender:
Emotions in total chaos, Cassie nodded and climbed from the truck. He hadn’t allowed her to collect anything from her car and he hadn’t relaxed one bit during the ten-minute ride. His rigid hostility sent a tingle of apprehension over her body.
She watched as Brody strode ahead, up the steps to the porch and then to the door. The faded jeans molded his flat stomach, narrow hips and long legs. The form-hugging green T-shirt emphasized the broadness of his chest and his muscled arms. She’d always thought him a hunk, but he seemed to have grown bigger, stronger and harder, in more ways than the physical.
He turned and looked at her, pure male arrogance and pride. His expression said this was her last chance to back out of the deal. If she followed him inside, she’d be completely at his mercy, and he didn’t seem to be in a very merciful mood. He had two years full of anger and frustration to vent. The risk to her body might be minimal, but she didn’t know how much torture her battered heart could survive.
She didn’t believe he’d do her any physical harm. The man she’d known and trusted had been a gentle lover with a generous heart. What she didn’t know is how her desertion might have changed that man. He certainly didn’t seem too approachable right now.
Still, she loved him with all her heart. She never would have left if he’d loved her as deeply. She’d thought her threat to join the rodeo would elicit a marriage proposal, but her plan had backfired. He’d let her go without a fight, without a call or letter or speck of protest. Now she had to do whatever it took to make things right between them. Even if that meant submitting to his every whim until he’d been pacified.
“Are you coming?”
Cassie didn’t hesitate any longer, but followed him into the coolness of the house. He tossed his hat aside and ran his fingers through overlong hair that always threatened to curl. His eyes glittered and thick brows furrowed as he studied her. She noted new frown lines around his eyes. The grooves in his cheeks seemed deeper, his overall appearance more grim. He’d never be considered handsome in a pretty-boy fashion, yet his face portrayed the strength and character of a man who could be trusted to keep his word.
After slamming the door, he spoke to her in a voice more harsh than she’d ever heard from him. “Take off your clothes. Right here, right now. No arguments or this arrangement is finished before it starts.”
Her eyes widened in shock and she stared at him to see if he was joking. He wasn’t. His jaw was locked in determination. His eyes were so cold that a shiver raced over her. Was he trying to scare
her into leaving? Was this a test?
She’d never been a particularly modest person and he’d seen her naked before, yet she stood frozen.
“Now.”
His command made her wary, but he wouldn’t send her running again. In fact, now that she was back in his home, he’d have a hell of a time chasing her away. She’d yearned for him too long to let him scare her off so easily.
Cassie started to turn her back to him.
He grasped her arm. “Don’t try to hide from me!”
Eyes sparkling with annoyance, she stood directly in front of him and whipped her top over her head and off her arms.
She hadn’t thought his expression could get any tighter, but it did. Somehow, it made her feel more exposed than the shedding of clothes. She’d known she’d have to swallow a lot of pride if she wanted to put the past behind them. But baring herself, even physically, wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped.
Quivering and unsure, she gave herself a mental pep talk. This is what she wanted more than life. She wanted Brody looking at her with that tight, needy expression, so she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor.
His eyes flared with a sexual hunger so stark it dampened her defiance a bit and sent another hot tremor over body. He quickly lowered his lashes to hide his reaction. She dropped her arms to her sides.
“All of it, the bra and panties, too,” he insisted gruffly.
She understood. She didn’t like it, but she understood his need for control. Slowly, Cassie reached behind her back and unclipped her bra. It fell away from her breasts and dropped to the floor. Her nipples puckered as cool air wafted over them. The heat of Brody’s gaze had them tightening into hard nubs.
Without another word, he reached out and cupped both breasts, molding them and fondling them with his big, calloused hands. When she closed her eyes on a sigh, he brushed her nipples with his thumbs until a tremor shot through her. If this was his idea of torture, she could deal with it twenty-four hours a day. Heat speared her low in her belly and moisture collected between her legs. She stifled a moan. It had been so long. So damned long.
When she thought her legs would collapse, she reached for him.
Desire: Blend sinful with sweet. Whip to perfection. Don’t forget to lick the spoon…
Pink Buttercream Frosting
© 2009 Lissa Matthews
Aidn Greer is a much-sought-after Dominant in the BDSM lifestyle with an unusual problem. He hasn’t owned a submissive in more years than he cares to think about. He’s bored with unchallenging women, yet mentoring other Doms and training subs has left him cold as well. He’s craving something other than plain old vanilla—a taste of something sinfully sweet that, for once, he can really sink his teeth into.
Professional cake baker Bailey Harris wasted ten years bored to tears with her marriage, enduring a job she hated, and harboring a secret desire for something passionate, fulfilling and dark. Then she found it…in the world of BDSM. Exploring on her own brought the kind of mind-opening experiences that led her to declare her independence—and exposed a yearning to find the one Dom for whom she’s willing to kneel. Permanently.
When Aidn and Bailey meet, it’s fire and ice. Sugar and spice. And an experience that satisfies every detail of both their fantasies. Almost. While the big, beautiful sub is everything Aidn wanted, her fierce independent streak could be more of a challenge than he bargained for…
Warning: This book brings together scorching-hot counter sex, decadent pink frosting, and no-holds-barred BDSM play for a spanking good time. Be sure to bring an ice-cold drink along…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Pink Buttercream Frosting:
Bailey pasted a smile on her face as she greeted her two o’clock appointment. Just because she hated all things having to do with men and romance and love and sex thanks to Mr. Slink Away Dominant, didn’t mean she couldn’t be sincerely happy for the newly engaged couple seated across the table from her. Did it? No, of course not. She was, after all, a professional.
“So, what’s the date of your wedding?”
“Valentine’s weekend,” the bride gushed, holding tightly to the arm of her very uncomfortable looking groom.
Bailey understood his pain and wanted to throw up, wanted to break her pencil and jab Barbie Bride in the eyes with the jagged ends. “Oh, isn’t that just wonderful!”
“Yes! Please tell me that you have the date open for a wedding. I just don’t know what I’d do if you’re already booked.”
“Let me check the calendar to be sure.” She flipped open her day planner and made a show of checking dates. She was open for anything, everything, and most especially Barbie’s wedding. “Yes, actually, I am still available and that gives us just about six months.”
“Oh that is just perfect. You were recommended so highly that I just had to have you and you did such a gorgeous job with my friend’s wedding cake. I knew you’d be perfect for what I want.”
Bailey was touched, this time truly touched by the kind words. “That’s a great compliment, thank you. What is your color scheme? Red and white?”
The bride beamed. “White with red and pink accents. Perfect for Valentine’s Day, don’t you think?”
Pencil snapping. Jagged ends. Deep breath. All without her smile faltering. “Absolutely. What color pink?”
“I want a really pretty shade and not anything that would clash with the red.”
That feeling of throwing up…it was back. “No, we don’t want anything to clash. I have a variety of cake flavors, do you have a preference?”
“Chocolate. That’s what you made for Angie’s wedding and it was to die for.”
“Great. Chocolate. Buttercream frosting?” Did they see the tightness around her mouth at all or was it just something Bailey was feeling as she looked at them?
“Is that what was on Angie’s cake? I want it to taste just like hers. Can you do that? Make it taste exactly like hers?”
The plea was so earnest that Bailey fought not to laugh. “I’m pretty sure it was buttercream I used on hers and yes, I can make it taste just like that.”
“Oh, good. And I want roses all over it in pink and red.”
“All right. Let me get one of my pattern books and you can see if there’s something that fits the vision you have in your head. I’ll just be a second.”
Bailey stood, walked behind the counter and knelt down, trying to compose herself, trying to get back the professionalism she was quickly losing. She didn’t know why she was losing it, except for the fact that images of Aidn kept drifting in and out of her mind. It wasn’t marriage she was seeing though, it was a collaring, which was dumb as she’d only been with him once and he’d walked away. It was just a feeling, a gut feeling, that he was the one. It was a feeling that pissed her off.
A few deep breaths later, she stood and pasted another smile on her face. She grabbed some wedding cake books and a couple of magazines and set them on the table for Barbie and Ken to begin going through. “I have some cake samples if you’d like to try them.”
“No, that’s fine. I know what the chocolate tasted like and that’s what I want. I don’t need to taste anything else,” Barbie said absently, her eyes and fingers devouring the pages of cakes in front of her. Ken simply sat there, helpless, looking even more uncomfortable in the silence that ensued. Bailey tried to give him an encouraging and kind smile but wasn’t sure she pulled it off.
“This one!”
Bailey looked at the picture that the bride was pointing to and inwardly groaned. The cake consisted of four stacked tiers, with cascades of icing roses from the top to the bottom and gum-paste petals sprinkled along the base.
“And I want alternating red and pink roses.”
“And the scattered, loose petals?”
“Can you make them white? Or would it be better if they were a color?”
“I think either would look lovely, but it’s whatever you want. It’s your big day.”
“Yes, it is,
” she squealed.
“And what do you think?” Bailey asked, turning toward the still-silent groom.
“Oh he doesn’t care. He likes whatever I like.”
Sheepishly he shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head. For some reason the gesture caused a small twinge of sadness in Bailey. Her husband had been like that. Agreeing to whatever she wanted, never having much to say about anything. His nonchalant attitude about work, social plans, life and her…it was just more than she could take for the rest of her life. Now that she’d found heat and passion in a whole different personal lifestyle, she couldn’t regret having left him and striking out on her own.
She did wish things had worked out differently with Aidn though, that it had been more than just a one afternoon deal.
After filling out some paperwork and taking a deposit, Bailey walked the happy couple out and then returned to the kitchen. She needed to bake, to play. It helped her forget, to cope through tough times.
Half a bag of powdered sugar later, along with half a pound of butter, some vanilla and cream, she was feeling pretty good. Aidn hadn’t crossed her mind but three or four hundred times. Surely, that was some sort of improvement.
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