by Erika Masten
“Good girl, Jenna,” he said finally, grinning at the way Katie glared at his term of endearment. “Excellent way to stall them. I’ll be right down.”
“Big business deal?” Katie asked, perched on the arm of the leather sofa, watching him pull on his suit coat.
Liam quickly tied his tie. “Fitness Craze wants to merge with us. It will make us the largest health club chain in the country.”
“And what do you have to do with it?” she wondered out loud.
“I own the company.”
She gaped at him. “All of them? The whole chain?”
Well, that explains the brand new Maserati.
“I thought you were interested in my skills as a Dom, not in my money.” Liam came out from behind the desk, catching her around the waist and pulling her in close, using his other hand to restrain her wrists behind her back. Just that made her stomach do flips.
“I am,” she insisted, looking up at him, hopeful. “Does this mean… are we… can we…?”
He smiled at her hesitation, but didn’t help her out.
“Are you going to train me?” she whispered.
“What do you think I’ve been doing?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You don’t need the fancy joint and all the equipment you know. As a personal trainer, I could train anyone, anywhere, using anything. I can do the same as a Dom.”
“Well don’t tell that to Fitness Craze.” She smiled, nuzzling her cheek against his chest, her heart soaring, but then she thought of something that hadn’t occurred to her before. “But… what about… do you have any other… you know… clients?”
He frowned, lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes. “You’re not a client, Katie.”
“No?”
“No, you’re my…” He hesitated and she watched him struggle, waiting. “You’re my kitten.” He seemed satisfied with that, and so was she, and he embraced her tightly. “I guess this means my basement is all for you now. Starting tonight.”
“Tonight?” Her eyes widened.
“Oh yes.” Liam nodded, his smile grim. “You’re going to be punished for interrupting me at work when I told you to wait.”
“Ohh…” Her ass clenched at the thought. She looked at him, considering. “You’re really going to do this… only with me? Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and she felt his breath, warm and sweet. “Life doesn’t throw naked, crying submissives at my feet every day, you know.”
She flushed. “So you knew from the beginning?”
“I knew when I asked you to show me, that night in the car, and you did.” He caressed her cheek and she took his hand in hers, turning it over and kissing his palm, just like she had then.
The knock on the door made them both jump.
“Damnit.” He kissed her again, quickly this time, but hard. “My place. Tonight. The basement.”
“But… I don’t know how much of a deterrent punishments are, really, to being a brat, when so far, the punishments have been so…” She sighed happily.
He chuckled. “You’ll learn.”
Liam let her go, striding to answer the door and as Katie watched him, she knew he was absolutely right.
She’d always been a quick study.
The End
ABOUT SELENA KITT
Selena Kitt is a bestselling and award-winning author of erotic and romance fiction. She is one of the highest selling erotic writers in the business with over a million books sold!
Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When she's not pawing away at her keyboard, Selena runs an innovative publishing company (excessica.com) and in her spare time, she devotes herself to her family--a husband and four children--and her growing organic garden. She does bellydancing and photography, and she loves four poster beds, tattoos, voyeurism, blindfolds, velvet, baby oil, the smell of leather, and playing kitty cat.
Her books EcoErotica (2009), The Real Mother Goose (2010) and Heidi and the Kaiser (2011) were all Epic Award Finalists. Her only gay male romance, Second Chance, won the Epic Award in Erotica in 2011. Her story, Connections, was one of the runners-up for the 2006 Rauxa Prize, given annually to an erotic short story of "exceptional literary quality," out of over 1,000 nominees, where awards are judged by a select jury and all entries are read "blind" (without author's name available.)
She can be reached on her website at www.selenakitt.com
Submissive's Hard Discovery: Submission Abroad
By Nicole Snow
Content copyright © Nicole Snow. All rights reserved.
Published in the United States of America.
First published in September, 2013.
Disclaimer: The following ebook is a work of fiction. Any resemblance characters in this story may have to real people is only coincidental.
All individuals depicted in this work are adults over the age of eighteen years old.
Description
BABY CRAZY SUB MEETS RUSSIAN DOM!
Janie gets the shock of a lifetime when her best friend Masha steps off the plane with a strange man built like a god. He's Masha's mysterious Russian guardian, and now he's looking to stay in Janie's cramped apartment until it's time to go home.
Veteran businessman Dmitri never planned to find a submissive, a womb, and an untouched beauty all in one place. But Janie catches his eye well enough for him to fly her back to the elegant Russian mansion he calls home.
Suppressing their mutual attraction isn't easy. One wild night of partying with Masha rips it wide open. Soon, Janie finds herself laid bare to dominant Dmitri's secret desires, starting with a kiss in handcuffs, and ending with his baby deep inside her...
Word Count: 13,500+ words.
I: A Sultry Invitation
I craned my neck, staring at the huge, strange man who stepped out from behind my best friend. Mouth open, I tried to speak through the airport terminal's busy sounds, but the giant answered first.
“It's so good to meet you, little devochka. Dmitri Vladimirovich Yezhov. My dearest daughter has told me all about you.” He extended a hand.
My fingers barely fit in his massive palm. I shuddered as he closed his huge fingers around mine, smothering them in his exotic strength and conviction.
He carried himself like he owned the world. I wondered how many American girls he'd left speechless before me.
“Isn't he great, Janie?” Masha leaned over his shoulder and looked at me. “Papa's a real Russian man. Not an Americanized poser like me.”
She winked. It took standing on her tip toes to peer above Dmitri's broad shoulders.
Then she laughed, a high pitched, tinny cackle I hadn't heard forever. It went on for awhile, until the huge man joined her with a low chuckle that kissed my ears.
Has it really only been a couple months?
My head swam. It felt more like I hadn't seen my best friend for a decade, rather than a matter of weeks.
“Uh, I didn't expect to pick up two people at the airport...” I stammered, biting my lower lip.
I had a vision of my tiny beaten up Toyota sinking beneath his weight. Hell, he'd be stuffed in next to me in the little passenger seat, or crammed in the back with Masha, turning my cramped clunker into a real clown car!
I silently brooded. If he weren't so damned handsome, I might've said no.
I wanted to. Masha asked me to pick her up as she returned from her native land, but she hadn't said a word about an extra guest.
What are friends for, right? I held my breath, thinking everything over as the seconds ticked by.
Damn it. Why didn't you say anything about bringing dear old Dad back to the States?
And why didn't you ever tell me about how insanely handsome he is?
It wasn't just my car's tiny size that worried me. Dmitri looked well off
by the looks of it, and Masha always rode into school with the newest iWhatever and the sleekest dresses.
Sure, she was used to my lower middle class style by now. But what about him?
On the other hand, if Masha had ever said anything about me to him, he had to know. She bailed me out a hundred times with her bottomless spending money, even on a prom dress my poor Mom couldn't afford.
I remembered why I owed her one. She was calling in a favor, a big favor, and who was I to say no?
I looked him up and down, evaluating this rugged stranger with my eyes. He wore a sharp ivory colored suit – easily the finest of any man who'd stepped off the plane.
Why do I feel so jealous and ashamed? Jesus, who's really going crazy here?
The pause between us lasted a long time. Masha's wide smile gently melted.
She saw me hesitating, and she didn't like it. Her lips twisted, fixing her frosty watch-it-girlfriend eyes on me.
“You'll give us a ride back to your place. Right, J? I know Papa's a little big, but I figured you'd have the extra space. It's just you and Miss Kohl in that little apartment...no more than a week or two. I promise.”
Masha batted her long eyelashes. Her favorite tactic worked well on the boys, and seemingly on me too.
She kept her eyes trained on mine as her hands moved over his shoulders. They slid along his arm, stopping at his forearm and cupping it close to her.
The way she played with this god's fingers made me think of other things. Masha balanced herself precariously on the border between inappropriate fawning and daughterly affection.
Just as planned...
Dmitri didn't react – at least not negatively. He grinned, showing off a perfect set of large white teeth, and patted his daughter's slim hand.
I wondered if Papa was as cutely manipulative as my best friend.
Gross! But weirdly seductive...I guess I'm showing my American side and my own ego by looking at her touch as anything but a daughter's love.
I shook my head, still in disbelief. I expected Masha to return from her summer trip with an overcharged credit card or two and a hangover. But I thought she'd come back alone, ready to spend a few weeks with me before she had to make the permanent move to Russia for university.
This other man, the father I'd only heard tiny whispers about...he was a tall, dark, and drop dead gorgeous mystery.
Wicked me. I just had to know more. The old adage about curiosity and cats flickered in my head, and I wondered if I'd end up tied by the tongue, the tail, or maybe both. Dmitri looked like he could do it all.
Stop it. You barely know this man, and he's twice your age. Now, you have to take them both, if only to wipe away the racy guilt...
“Masha, give the little girl some time for everything to sink in,” Dmitri said, waking me from my trance. “Your friend is very beautiful, very fragile. Maybe she has a soul with loyalties that take time to win? And when a man gets them, they open him to a bigger, wider world? A beautiful and intense world, perhaps.” He winked at me. Just like his daughter.
Again, I was speechless. I closed my eyes, counting softly in my head, just trying to breath.
Dmitri reached for my hand. I let it fall limply into his grasp.
With Masha's hand in his opposite one, he took a step forward, leading us out of the terminal, down to baggage claim. My lazy feet walked, following his lead, the only thing I could do, shadowed in his powerful presence.
When Masha first invited me to Russia, everything inside me revolted.
“Papa's going to ask you something special tonight. Please, J, say 'yes' for me. No matter how crazy it seems.” She looked intently into my eyes.
We were at the nail salon, wasting a late summer day in dark, pampered bliss. My best friend's treat for putting them up, of course. Though really, it was Dmitri's, the source of all her money.
It had only been a couple weeks. But I could tell Mom was getting tired of our unannounced company. Probably almost as tired of them lounging around her tiny apartment as she was me.
I hadn't done anything since graduation. A couple odd temp jobs, lots of babysitting for a few dollars at a time, and so many colorful puzzle games that their chirpy sounds echoed in my dreams.
Hard to believe a year had passed in a blur since High School graduation.
It was my own fault. Academics and activities were never a strength.
I spent too much time gossiping about boys and music, or sometimes reading silly novels that made my heart throb. Too many hours with my younger friend, Masha Yezhov, who'd been like a second shadow to me since we became bus buddies in the third grade.
Lately, my book collection was gathering dust and my other friends were all college bound. Losing Masha to Mother Russia threatened to snap my last real social cord.
As for Mom, it wasn't just the awkward dinners and early retreats to her bedroom weighing on her nerves.
The huge Russian patriarch made her uncomfortable. He was demanding and bold, even though he remained polite and showered her with money for vodka runs and weird, but tasty delicacies I'd never heard of.
Deep down, I think Mom was attracted to him too. She couldn't stand being alone with him in the apartment. And who in their right mind could blame her?
When she wasn't at work, she was cooking, watching TV in her bedroom, or going out for game night with the ladies. I caught her secretive glances across the dinner table leveled at Dmitri.
I understood. And I hated her for it.
He's not yours, Mom. In another lifetime, he'd be with me.
Maybe it's time to go abroad after all. Anything to take my mind off these crude distractions – or maybe to embrace them.
I wasn't totally ready to admit my burning attraction to Masha's father. But every day with him made me a little crazier, bathed me with a little more hope that maybe – just maybe – I could one day sample him alone.
Dangerous? Absolutely. But so damned irresistible...
Dmitri was getting increasingly restless in what he called our “small American hut.” He wanted to return to his country with both of us in tow.
“Come with us to Russia,” he said, gripping my hand across the table at dinner. “I'm sure your dear mother won't have any objections. Isn't that right, Marie Julia?”
I blushed. His grip felt like fire around my little fingers.
We both eyed my Mom, who stared at us with quiet scorn in her eyes. She knew I craved adventure, even if it came at the hands of a Russian who couldn't break the custom of using a person's first and middle name to address them in this foreign land.
“Go. If you really think you're mature enough to handle the trip, Janie, then you've got my blessings. You only live once.” She smirked, taking another nibble of the delicate little pelmeni Dmitri instructed her to prepare for dinner.
What do I have to lose?
“Okay. I'll do it. It's not like I have anything better to do anyway...”
I hid my eyes from Mom's glare. Masha clapped her hands while her father nodded approvingly. To him, saying “no” wasn't even a possibility.
Has anyone ever rejected Dmitri Yezhov?
Moving week came like lightning, and passed just as quickly as a heat flash in the sky. Packing, cleaning, and flying across an ocean I'd never crossed distorted time like nothing I'd ever experienced.
Our first night in Mother Russia, I realized just how insanely rich and successful my best friend's family really was.
My jealously, along with my desire, went from simmering to volcanic.
I walked through the spacious mansion late at night, my third walk in just as many days. Chalk it up to crossing more than ten time zones, but transition wasn't easy.
Sleep, like my old life, was fleeting as a dream. All I wanted to do was get out and explore the city, lit so beautifully at night through the huge dacha windows.
Moscow was a young poet's paradise, a strange marriage of the modern and antique. Each night, I watched the neon lights from th
e luxury clubs caress old white brick, dancing along gilded Orthodox church domes and cold godless concrete left over from Soviet times.
Masha had some business to take care of elsewhere in Moscow. It was just me and her dear old Papa alone in the huge dacha – not counting half a dozen maids, bodyguards, and gardeners who came several times a day.
That night, I found him in his study when I walked by it. Dmitri had left the door wide open.
He sat in a huge leather chair, sipping vodka from a large glass in front of a roaring fire.
I stepped inside and instantly wilted. If he burned fires like this in the summer, then what would it be like when the harsh winter came?
My eyes turned up to the huge tiger's head mounted above the fireplace. I was staring at it when Dmitri turned and saw me.
“Little devochka! This is a pleasant surprise. But you should be getting your beauty rest, no?” He stood, exposing a muscular V in his chest from the section where his loose night robe fused together.
Funny. I never recalled anyone else up except his body guard, Boris, at this time of night.
What's he doing outside his master suite? And why the hell is a man like him single?
I knew that Masha's mother had died sometime when she was just a little girl. With a rising tycoon for a father, this fired the chain of events which led to her moving across from me, living with an Aunt who'd settled in America.
I shook my head, chewing my bottom lip. Though I felt more comfortable around him with Masha or my mother, I hadn't gotten used to spending time alone with this man.
But he isn't always alone, is he?
My first night, I'd heard noises near his bedroom that sent me running back to my room. He was with a woman that night, and the sounds of their sex filled the whole house.
Even after I retreated to my room, they were so loud I couldn't sleep. Their grunting, panting, and slurred curses in Russian passed through several walls, through the ceiling that separated my old bedroom downstairs.
