Master of Desire

by Multiple

  “Yes, sir” I said in a hiss of irritation. He was being such a tease. Here I was, ready to come and he was toying with me.

  “Do you think I owe you an orgasm?” he asked, his voice quiet.

  “I would like one, Sir, “ I said. “I’m close and you are stalling.”

  “That’s my prerogative as the dominant. You don’t get anything I don’t want you to have.” He let me slip back to the floor and I instinctively sat back on my heels, knees spread wide, breasts thrust out as far as possible. Begging.

  “Oh,” he said, with an appreciative smile. “That’s nice.”

  I remained silent, fuming.

  “Are you upset?”

  “I want to come, Sir.”

  Jacob squatted in front of me, hands reaching for my breasts, pulling the nipples in such a way that pain and pleasure warred for prominence in my nervous system. “Oh you will, my sweet pet. You will come for me, but only when I want you to.”

  He moved back to the bed and held out a hand. I took it and he brought me back up to his lap. The bulge of his cock bumped my side and my breathing hitched as mental images of what he could do to me with it streamed through my mind.

  Jacob started from the beginning, stroking my backside and legs with firm pressure and tickling the hollow of my knees again, which had a direct line to my core. Before he even spanked me, my hips were dancing, pushing up, reaching for him.

  “When you get mad at me again, remember how much I make you want it and trust me to give it to you.” With that, he smacked me. There was no warm up this time, he went straight to hard and fast.

  I bit my lip at the force and tried not to squeal, but some strangled high-pitched sounds still escaped. Tears burned in my eyes at the intensity of sensation playing through me and I blinked them back. I considered saying the safe word, but my clit slammed into his thigh, causing little sparks of pleasure to burn hot inside me. Again, the orgasm swelled, and again, Jacob stopped, recognizing the signs in the way I rose up to meet him and the frantic nature of my moans.

  He untied my hands then and positioned me in the middle of the bed. Producing some soft rope from his dresser drawer, he secured each hand to a bed post while I just stared at the ceiling in a haze of frustrated desire. Dissatisfaction throbbed between my legs, desperate for him to fill up the emptiness inside. I craved him, he was as vital as air.

  Once I was tied in place, he moved to the foot of the bed and kissed his way up my legs, parting them with his hand. I tried to line my core up with his mouth, but he ignored me and switched legs. I shivered as his beard stubble pricked my skin, biting my lip to keep myself from shamelessly pleading with him for satisfaction. He caressed the sensitive skin on my inner thighs, torturing me without mercy, so close yet so far.

  Continuing to act like my wet center didn’t exist, he kissed his way up my stomach and to my breasts. He sucked one nipple and ran his thumb across the other. The dual sensations made me writhe, hips lifting off the bed, reaching for something that wasn’t there.

  Then he was at my mouth, nibbling my bottom lip and kissing me passionately. Leaving a trail of kisses down my neck, he returned to my breasts, which were heavy with desire, the tips pulsing with need. I bucked when he gave my nipple a soft bite, nothing too hard, but still enough force to feel the sting. He alternated sucking with gentle love bites on each breast and my body quivered like jelly.

  By this point, I was sobbing silently. Hot tears coursed down my cheeks. Desire filled me. My nerves sang with it, and the wet heat between my legs burned. I couldn’t stop writhing, it was as if my body thought the answer was to keep moving.

  Daniels sat back and watched me, a satisfied smile on his face. “You’re beautiful.”

  I looked at him, a silent plea in my eyes.

  “Yes, pet?”

  I just stared at him, unable to translate my body’s need into speech.

  He yanked my legs over to the side and spanked me with quick slaps. “Answer me.”

  “Please, Sir.” I couldn’t find the words to say anything more than that. My voice reverberated with raw need and my eyes were wide, trying to communicate everything I was feeling.

  He parted my legs and pulled on a condom. For a long minute, he just let the tip of his shaft rest at my wet entrance. Being tied to the bed, I couldn’t scoot down to push myself on him and he knew it, watching me with an amused gleam in his eyes as I tried anyway.

  “Oh God, Daniels. Come on,” I said finally. “This is just cruel.” As an afterthought, I added a petulant, “Sir.”

  “I wonder if you will still think that when I’m done with you?” He lifted my hips and impaled me with a hard thrust.

  That was all it took. Suddenly I was coming with no warning. Pulse after pulse of pleasure thundered through my veins. He continued to pound me, the force of his thrusts shaking my body.

  My core fluttered around him and then clenched down as a series of orgasms surged hot within me. They spiraled up through me, merging together in a powerful climax. I screamed as I came. Screamed until my voice was gone, eaten up by the bliss. He thrust deep into me and watched me with a fierce intensity, not wanting to miss a single second of what he’d done to me.

  I was lost in an impossible wave of pleasure. It broke over me like heavy surf, drowning out everything else. I had a vague sense of his orgasm and his bodyweight sinking into me as he relaxed. The last thing I remembered was him untying my hands and tucking me into bed, and then I was gone, folded into a velvet darkness, replete with deep satisfaction.

  ***

  I woke the next morning to a body glowing from heavy use, similar to how I felt after a hard workout. Only this bdsm thing had made me sore in places exercise had never touched. My backside throbbed and my breasts were so sensitive, even the contact with open air was unbearable. Jacob was already awake, leaning on an elbow and watching me.

  “Good morning.” He smiled down at me. “How do you feel?”

  “Different. Sore.” I stretched, wincing as my body protested the movement.

  He nodded. “You’ll be sensitive for a while. It’s one of the nicer side-effects of my predilection.”

  “It is?” I said, doubtful. I felt raw and over-stimulated, not exactly my idea of a ‘nice side-effect.’

  “Think about how easy it will be to come now. Your body is halfway there.” To prove his point he ran a finger across my breast with a light touch. The nipple immediately puckered into a tight nub of desire. My body snapped awake as the stimulation traveled to my core.

  I moaned, my frayed nerves giving way to more pleasant sensations. Reaching down, I cupped Jacob’s cock which swelled in length and girth, hardening underneath my hand. He rolled onto his back and helped me climb on top. I lowered myself over him, gasping as he filled me. Okay, now this? Is a nice way to start a day, I thought.

  I was so sensitive, sex again so soon was almost too much sensory input. The orgasms were different too. They came in multiple staccato beats, bursting like fireworks and making me shiver. Then there would be a lull until another one exploded. I cried out each time, arching my back and pumping along his length as he teased my breasts.

  When he came, he thrust up inside me and pulled me close, biting me on the shoulder hard enough that I knew there would be a mark later. I moaned, so hypersensitive that my orgasm didn’t stop so much as slowly fade.

  “You okay?” He snuggled close to me, hand running down the length of my body.

  “Yeah, just sensitive, like you said.” I grabbed his hand and held it, unable to handle more touching at the moment.

  “What do you think now that you’ve had your first bdsm experience?”

  I thought for a second and then said, “It was pretty mind blowing. Much more intense than anything I’ve ever done .”

  “Would you do it again? With me?”

  I looked at him and realized he was nervous. His mouth was a tight line, his body still as if he was holding his breath. “Yes, it was amazing. Thank you
.” I reached up and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad I did this with you.” He’d shown me a whole new world, one I’d enjoyed immensely.

  His arm tightened around me. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to try.”

  “So, are we, like, dating now?” I watched his face carefully as I spoke. I wanted more than a one night stand but did he?

  His embrace became even tighter. “Yes, seriously.”

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “I just never expected any of this.” I gestured to him and then to the house in general. “I just thought I was the dog trainer. I had no idea.”

  “I knew.”

  I gave him a skeptical look. “You did? How?”

  He kissed the top of my head. “The day we met at my office. You told me exactly what you thought, not what you believed I wanted to hear. That kind of honesty is always attractive to me.”

  “So that was it? My honesty?”

  “And the way you stood up for Lucy and the way you looked in the dress. You were gorgeous.” He kissed my nose. “I even liked you tipsy on too much champagne and that was when I knew I was lost.”

  A sense of horror over took me. “Oh, my God, Lucy.”

  “What about her?” He asked leaning in for a kiss.

  I pushed him away. “We left her in the guard shack all night.” I put a hand to my forehead, disgusted with myself. “She’s just a baby, Jacob. You’re her family, she needs you.”

  “The guard was with her.”

  “Did you know they just tie her up to a desk? The guards don’t help anything other than your furniture.”

  He sighed. “Well, maybe this is a good time to talk about her future.”

  I looked at him with narrowed eyes, suspicious. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what he said.

  “I have to go to China for a few weeks. The late night meeting I had last week?” He looked at me to see if I remembered, waiting until I nodded that I did. “That was the factory agreement going south. I have to go deal with it in person.”

  “What about Lucy?” I shifted away from him and crossed my arms, preparing to be disappointed.

  “While I’m sure I appear to be the world’s worst dog owner in your eyes, I really have been listening to what you’ve said. I also happen to have a niece who’s twelve and dying for a dog. I texted her mom and we’ve worked out a dog sharing agreement.”

  “Okay, that sounds like a good option,” I said, relieved that his proposal wasn’t as odious as I’d anticipated and that it wouldn’t ruin our budding relationship. “Who gets Lucy when?”

  “They’ll have her day-to-day. I’ll pet sit and do the photo shoot for the animal shelter.”

  “So she’s pretty much their dog.” That tugged at my heart a little. Lucy was adorable and I would miss her.

  “Yeah and they are home all day. My niece is homeschooled. So Lucy would be with someone twenty-four seven.”

  “You won’t miss her?”

  He shrugged. “She’s cute, but you helped me see this is not the time for me to have a dog.”

  “You do realize, if we really are serious, there are dogs and cats in your future? As well as fish.” In the interest of full disclosure, I added, “By the way, I have always wanted ferrets. Oh, and a parrot.”

  He didn’t respond right away and I frowned. His silence hurt more than I wanted to admit. I pressed on, wanting to get it over with before things went any further between us. “You may have found Lucy a new home, but it’s only a reprieve. Animals are my life. It’s a package deal. I come with lots of fur.” There, if that didn’t send him screaming for the hills, maybe there was hope. And if he balked, well, at least neither us wasted each other’s time on a relationship doomed before it started. The only problem? I really wanted him to tie me up and have his way with me again. I wasn’t ready to walk away.

  His brow furrowed and I held my breath, watching his face as he tried to picture the menagerie I had in mind. Finally, he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Okay. I can do that so long as you build your future zoo slowly and give me some time to adjust.”

  I expelled the breath I’d been holding, waiting for his response. “Okay. Deal.”

  “Great, but before you start adopting animals, how would you like to come with me to China?” He kissed my shoulder. “I’ll have to work, but we can squeeze in some play time too.”

  “You’re serious?” The intensity of his interest surprised and thrilled me. A big smile spread across my face. We had a future. This was really happening.

  “In business, you go after what you want or you don’t get it. I’m not shy about what or who I like.”

  I grinned. “Me either.” I kissed him and giggled. “I would love to go with you to China.”

  And I did.

  Jacob tied me up all over Asia, his hands warming my backside, loving me out of my mind every chance we got. Better yet, six months later, he presented me with a gorgeous German Shepherd puppy and the red ribbon around her neck held a sparkling diamond engagement ring.

  I said “yes.”

  Like I said before, the way to my heart was lined with fur.

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  About the Author

  NY Times and USA Today Bestselling author Michelle Fox lives in the Midwest with her husband, kids, the occasional exchange student and two, sweetly disobedient dogs. She loves fantasy and romance, which makes writing paranormal romance a natural fit. Occasionally she goes through a maverick phase and writes contemporary romance. Most of her books have been top 100 bestsellers in their genre and she was once #1 in Germany. In her spare time, she’s been known to shake her bon-bon at Zumba, make spectacular cheesecakes, hoard vintage costume jewelry and eat way too much ice cream (Ben and Jerry’s Karamel Sutra for the win!).

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  Becoming Jane

  By

  Jordan Bell

  Becoming Jane is a companion novella

  set in The Curvy Submissive world.

  It can be devoured on its own or as a set.

  Before

  I was twelve when my father disassembled his two daughters and rebuilt us as shiny, bobble-headed robots.

  The Starlight Ball was the twelfth event we’d attended that summer and I was tired of pretending I liked my frumpy silk dresses, that I cared passionately about what my parents told us to care about, or that I wasn’t half-starving because my mother wouldn’t let me eat anything for fear people would realize her youngest daughter was a piglet. As if the frumpy dresses didn’t already give that away. I was almost a teenager, anyway, so what happened was probably inevitable.

  My father was on stage as a board member of something important. We weren’t outrageously wealthy, but my father was powerful which was almost as good as. Other powerful men trusted him with their money and reputation so appearances were literally everything to us.

  While he talked to the men and their pocketbooks, my mother, my sister, and I performed for the ladies. Caroline and I were mostly good girls. No one knew my sister snuck cigarettes with the bus boys or that I had a paperback stuffed down my dress. It seemed to us that as long as we were
good on the outside, no one needed to know how much we loathed being an Alston daughter on the inside.

  It happened like this. My mother told another mother, “My youngest daughter loves soccer. Our children should absolutely practice together.”

  And, horrified, I said, “No I don’t.”

  Caroline made a sniggering noise at the back of my head. “Have you seen Avery run? It’s delightful. Like watching a Muppet.”

  She’d gotten us mixed up, Caroline and me, while trying to impress these women who loved when she succeeded almost as much as they loved when she failed. Even though it was obvious just looking at us who the athlete was, my mother refused to admit her error publically. When Genevieve Alston stepped on stage, she commanded armies in Versace suits. She could convince Fortune 500 CEOs to funnel money into supporting the preservation of fairy tale creatures in Antarctica if she so felt inclined.

  Tonight she would turn her 50 pound overweight, glasses wearing, book nerd daughter into David Beckham and absolutely no one was going to contradict her.

  Mother gritted her teeth and said, “You just told me you wanted to be more active. Practicing with Todd McIntire would be a dream.”

  “He is very good,” Mrs. McIntire gushed. “His private coach thinks he’s got such talent. And he’s a very good teacher. He’s always showing his teammates how to be better.”

  “I bet he could get you running eight minute miles before the end of the summer,” mother said with such delight I knew I was doomed. My days, nights, and weekends would be filled with laps and protein shakes and Todd McIntire glaring ominously over his soccer ball when he saw me coming. A whole summer wasted with the fat girl who ran like a Muppet.

  All because my mother couldn’t politely recant her error and turn the spotlight onto Caroline.

  I don’t remember what came over me. I was tired of playdates with other kids who would unfailingly make fun of me just for being me.

  The dreadful inevitably temporarily rendered me mad. That was my only defense.