by Eden Bradley
His heart filled, overflowing. His arms tightened around her sweet body. “Oh, you’re mine, all right. No one else’s.”
“No. Never.”
“You’re my love, Janie girl. Always have been. Always will be.”
He stroked her hair, like honey and silk, let his hand smooth over her shoulder, down to cup her breast, to stroke the soft skin with his thumb. She arched into his touch, offering her mouth to be kissed.
He pressed his lips to hers, kissed her as he turned, sitting her on the piano bench. Then, taking one of her slender wrists in his hand, he held the scarf out, silently asking for that final consent. She nodded, smiled, held both hands out to him, palms turned upward as if in supplication. And he felt her turning herself over to him at that moment. Completely. He bound her wrists together, wrapping the scarf around several times and tying it off with a half-hitch knot. Desire and emotion shivered over his skin, through his system. He knew of only one way to make her truly his, to possess her in the way she was meant to belong to him. This dynamic was an important element between them. It always had been. Now it meant more than ever.
Standing, he tore off his pajama bottoms and his tank top. When he was as naked as she was, his cock hard, needing her, he pressed her back down onto the piano bench.
“So damn beautiful,” he murmured. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Cole…” She leaned up, pressed a kiss to his stomach. His gut clenched, pleasure flooding him as she did it again, and again.
He closed his eyes and sighed his pleasure as she took him in her soft, bound hands, stroking him from base to tip, the ends of the scarf tickling his flesh, until he was swollen and aching for her.
“Baby. Let me now.”
She released him and he bent to fill his hands with her beautiful breasts, to take one hard pink tip into his mouth. She moaned as he sucked, teased with tongue and teeth. And while he felt a raging need to be inside her, there was none of the frenzy he felt so often with her. There was no need to command himself to calm down, to hold back. This time it was all about the moment. All about what was happening between them.
He lifted his head to meet her glossy gaze. “It’s all about love, baby.”
She smiled, her eyes glazed with need, with her descent into subspace from being tied up. “Yes, Cole. It’s all about love.”
He lifted her and set her on the side of the grand piano, spread her thighs and moved between them as he raised her bound hands over her head. Even holding them there, his fingers gripping the knotted scarf, brought home that sense of her belonging to him, of them belonging to each other, in a sinuous rush of heat and power. “This is part of the poetry between us, Janie. We understand that about each other. About what makes us us. Love you, baby girl,” he murmured as he slipped inside her, his gaze on hers.
Her eyes welled. “Love you, Cole.”
He pressed into her, his hips moving slowly, his body soaking up every sensation—the velvet clutch of her flesh around his. The love in her eyes.
He titled his hips, surging into her, one hand holding her arms over her head, the other buried in her hair. And as they came together, sighing, then crying out, their gazes locked, he saw in her every single thing he’d ever needed to know.
Except one.
When it was over she wrapped her legs around him, her head against his chest. Lifting her, he moved them onto the floor, and they lay there catching their breath, her head pillowed on his shoulder as he untied her wrists, massaged them, kissed her fingertips one at a time. He began to hum, then to sing to her quietly. Janie’s song. But weren’t they all Janie’s songs?
Your body hears me when I call
Sees me when I cry
Is it reason enough to give
Reason enough to try
So lay me down tonight
Say just one prayer
Tell me you’ll be there
Lay me down tonight
She blinked up at him, tears pooling in her green eyes, gathering on her lashes. “It’s so beautiful. And I’ll be there, if you want me to be. It is reason enough, what we have between us. It always has been.”
“Janie…” He squeezed her, needing to feel her slender frame against his body, to feel every lush curve and valley. “I want you to be mine.”
“I am yours. Just like we said. Never anyone else’s.”
“No, I mean really mine. Forever.”
She lifted her head to look at him. “Cole…?”
“Marry me, Janie. Again. Let’s do it right this time. Let’s make it last.”
She smiled. Beautiful. It almost broke his heart to see it. But no, his heart was singing.
“Only if it’s forever,” she agreed softly.
He gathered her hand in his, pressed her palm over his chest. “Do you feel it, baby? Do you feel how much I mean it? How much I want you in my life?”
“In every heartbeat,” she agreed.
“Forever,” he murmured before he bent to kiss her.
“Forever,” she whispered against his mouth.
He had the words, finally—the ones he’d always needed to hear from her. And all the music his heart would ever need.
He had Janie.
About the Author
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author Eden Bradley writes dark, edgy erotic romance for Samhain Publishing, Berkley Heat (as both Eden Bradley and Eve Berlin), Bantam/Delta, and Harlequin Spice/HQN. Two of her books have been Romantic Times Top Picks. Her novel FORBIDDEN FRUIT was profiled in Cosmopolitan Magazine’s Red Hot Reads column and her BDSM book THE DARK GARDEN hit the top paperback fiction charts in the UK. She has received or been nominated for numerous awards, including the Holt Medallion and the Passionate Plume. Her books have been translated into German, French, Romanian, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, Czech, Polish and Japanese.
Eden loves art, shoes, tattoos, her Boston Terrier puppy, reading smutty books, chocolate and sex, of course, not necessarily in that order.
You can visit her websites: www.EdenBradley.com or her group blog www.Smutketeers.com.
Look for these titles by Eden Bradley
Now Available:
Tempt Me Twice
Midnight Playground
The Seeking Kiss
Bloodsong
The Turning Kiss
Eversong
Rogue
Celestial Seductions
Winter Solstice
Spring Equinox
Summer Solstice
Wasteland Anthology
Wasteland: The Breeder
San Francisco Dom
Sanctuary
She trusts him with her body…but can he trust himself with her heart?
Sanctuary
© 2014 Eden Bradley
San Francisco Doms, Book 1
Devin Delaney has never described herself as kinky, despite a rich fantasy life filled with submission scenarios—until her best friend takes her to the Ring, a San Francisco BDSM club, and her senses hum with awakened urges.
One pro Dom in particular works scenes that leave her breathless, and when he unexpectedly invites her on a journey to the darker side of sex—right then, right there—she sinks readily into the sting of addictive desire.
Shaye’s past makes him wary of getting involved with any woman, but when Devin willingly gives herself over to him, something inside him opens up. And he finds himself breaking his own rules to keep her in his arms all night.
When Shaye takes Devin to an exclusive club named Sanctuary, leading her deeper into the BDSM world, Devin’s kinkiest fantasies—and emotions—shift into overdrive. The experience brings them both to the edge of an inner darkness that could seal their bond—or permanently tear it apart.
Warning: An irresistible alpha Dom
who’s into flogging, spanking, pinching, hair pulling, and orgasm denial before driving his sub to orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. Contains extreme kink. You might want to bring a blindfold…and pack an extra pair of panties.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Sanctuary:
Lights pulsed, music pounded, and Devin’s heart hammered faster than it ever had in her life. How had she let Kimmie talk her into coming here, to the Ring, on fetish night? She’d never seen anything like it.
She’d never imagined she would love it.
Hundreds of club-goers pressed against the sturdy metal railing that surrounded the Ring, the loft section of Club X, one of the hottest dance clubs in San Francisco, where unusual and wicked things happened every Friday night. Things she’d heard about, maybe even dreamed of, but had never seen. Until now.
She had to get closer.
Devin followed Kimmie’s sleek, dark head as she pushed her way through the crowd, somehow finding her way, even though at just over five feet tall she couldn’t possibly have seen where she was going.
Multicolored lights flashed against dark red walls and into the shadowed alcoves where club-goers rested on velvet-covered couches and couples were locked in heated embraces, oblivious to the crowd and the noise.
They were almost up to the front. All around her people writhed and bounced to the beat that reverberated through the club, making the floors tremble until she could feel it in the pit of her stomach.
When they reached the railing, Kimmie pulled on Devin’s arm.
Devin shook her head. “It’s okay. I can see from here,” she yelled.
“What?”
“I’m fine right here,” she repeated more loudly.
Kimmie grinned, shook her head and shoved Devin in front of her.
“Kimmie!” Devin shouted over her shoulder, laughing. Then she felt the metal rail press against her stomach as the crowd surged forward.
In an instant her eyes were riveted to the scene before her, the strange, compelling scene within the Ring.
Chains dangled from somewhere high in the ceiling, ending in leather cuffs with big metal buckles. Against the back wall stood three enormous wooden crosses, each in the shape of a giant X, and bound to these crosses were two women and one man. The man had his shirt off, and a woman dressed all in black with brilliant scarlet hair was hitting his back with a small, multi-tailed flogger, raising fine red welts on his skin. With every slow, even stroke of the flogger the crowd called out, urging her on, making goose bumps rise on Devin’s arms, on the back of her neck.
But what really interested her were the women.
The two young blondes were stripped down to their underwear, both in black bras and thong panties. They faced the crosses, their arms raised high over their heads, their wrists cuffed and attached to eyebolts embedded in the wood. A pair of men spanked them with paddles in perfect synchronicity, moving with the beat of the heavy techno music.
Something in her stirred, awoke with a sharp cry of need as she watched. Amazing. Amazing that seeing this happen could make her body respond in this way. Amazing that she had never thought about this sort of thing before.
Had she? She knew what the floggers were called, and she’d agreed to come here with Kimmie easily enough. A night out at a club, her friend had said, with maybe a little extra thrill. This was thrilling, all right. Even more than the erotic novels she’d read. But that was just fiction, wasn’t it? It didn’t mean she actually wanted to do those things any more than reading a mystery novel meant she wanted to be a cop hunting down a serial killer.
Except that she was there, on the edge of the Ring, and her pulse was racing, her legs trembling as heat gathered between her thighs.
Maybe…
She pulled in a deep breath, exhaled slowly as she watched.
The two men, dressed entirely in black, wore leather pants and snug T-shirts. Their attention was focused on the pair of women, their backs to the crowd, and when they smacked the women’s flesh a cry rose from the wild group of onlookers. The music shifted and the men worked faster, in time with the new rhythm. Devin saw the ripple of muscles beneath their tight T-shirts as they lifted their arms and swung. The sound of the crowd became one long, continuous arc of noise. She could feel the aura of excitement all around her as the crowd fed it, fed her, making her pulse hammer in her veins. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the scene before her.
Kimmie yelled into her ear, “What do you think?”
All Devin could do was shake her head. What could she say? It was too loud in there to try to explain to Kimmie everything going through her mind.
“Do you want to go?” her friend asked.
“What? No!” She wasn’t going anywhere.
“Really?”
She turned for a moment and found a wide grin on Kimmie’s face, her gray eyes sparkling.
Devin smiled, shook her head a little. “Yes, really.”
Kimmie shrugged and Devin focused again on the action in the Ring.
The two men finished and released the girls from their restraints, rubbed their arms, their wrists, took them to a back corner and sat them down on a bench. A girl with short, dark hair and dressed in a red leather corset wrapped the women in blankets and gave them something to drink. Devin watched, mesmerized by the entire process. One of the men disappeared through a side door. When the other turned around a shock of heat roared through her.
He was beautiful.
Even in the flashing club lights she could see the honeyed shade of his skin. His hair was a short, spiky shock of brown tipped with blond, as though he’d recently been in the sun. His close-shaven goatee, a few shades darker than his hair, made him look purely devilish. It was too dim and he was too far away for her to see his eyes, but from where she stood they were dark, glittering. His gaze roved over the wild crowd and he gave them a crooked grin and a saucy wink, as though he was very much aware that he was performing—he probably was. And then he pulled his shirt off over his head.
She only had a moment to take in broad, muscled shoulders and tight six-pack abs, heavy tattoos—Maori work, she thought—covering his shoulder and part of his arm, before he turned around and started to pick up some items scattered around the floor, setting them on a wooden rack: a crop, the two paddles he and the other man had used, a variety of multi-tailed whips and canes, a few small metal tools. Devin wasn’t sure what everything was called. All she knew for certain was that this man made her entire body surge with need.
If only he would turn around again.
When he did, he looked right at her. Even among a crowd of hundreds, she knew it immediately. He watched her and flashed that small, cocky smile he’d given the crowd of revelers before. But this time it was for her alone.
He moved forward toward the front of the Ring until he stood right in the center of it. He stopped there, stared at her, locking his gaze on hers. Her stomach filled with butterflies, wings fluttering madly. She couldn’t believe he was looking at her, but the line of his gaze was perfectly clear.
Want…
She licked her suddenly dry lips. Her nipples went hard beneath her tight, stretchy top. It seemed his dark gaze traveled there instantly, to almost caress her skin before returning to her face. That self-assured smile appeared again, quirking just one corner of his mouth. Unbelievably sexy. Lust sang in her veins. She could hardly believe that having him look at her—just look at her!—was making her go wet.
The tattoos, the wicked goatee, him standing in the middle of this place, shirtless and beautiful…he was the ultimate bad boy, a satyr come to life. She’d never before been so attracted to a man. The hot flood of music and the colored lights only seemed to add to the sensual aura as he stared her down, daring her somehow.
He beckoned with his head, his grin quirking a little more. Yes, daring her to join him in the Ring.
&nb
sp; She couldn’t do it, of course, no matter that every cell in her body screamed at her to go to him, to have this man touch her.
Touch me…
He moved toward her, approached the railing and put his hand out to her. He had another small tattoo on the inside of one wrist, but she didn’t have the presence of mind to try to see what it was.
She blinked, offered her hand to him before she had a chance to think about it. He took it in his, turned it and laid a soft kiss in the center of her palm. A wave of raw desire rushed through her body like liquid fire.
He leaned in and yelled over the music, his deep voice booming over the noise of the club. “I’m Shaye. Tell me your name.”
God, he was talking to her.
“Devin.”
“Come play with me, Devin.”
She pulled back and saw that evil grin on his face. He had perfect white teeth, and she could see now that his eyes were a dark, smoky hazel with long, thick lashes.
“No, I…I can’t.”
“Of course you can. Just say yes.”
The whip never leaves a mark. Love…that’s another story.
Bound to be Tested
© 2015 Becca Jameson
Emergence, Book 3
Lori Polluck has reshaped her kink from bottom to top.
In the two years since her Dom disappeared without a trace, she’s transformed herself from perfect submissive to successful Domme. Her relationship with her submissive, Margaret, is…comfortable. Life is good. Until her past strides into Emergence, commandeers her scene, and turns her heart inside out.
Jude Cavanaugh can’t change his past, but he can definitely take charge of his future.
A mission he can never reveal took him away from Lori, he thought for good. But a twist of fate has brought him back to his life, his town, his club. He plans to reclaim it all—including his woman. Sure, she’s with someone else. Sure, she’s switched in every possible way. But the instant they touch, it’s clear Lori is still his to control. And she doesn’t like it one damned bit.
