Take Me (The Submission Games Book 2)

by Tamara Mataya

She turns to me with a dangerous lust in her eyes. “I’ll give you a fucking fantasy, Mark.”

  “You’re already my fantasy.”

  Her eyes close, and I wrap my arms around her, wanting to hold her like this forever. My chest aches. I haven’t been this happy for so long, the emotion is unfamiliar for a moment.

  This right here, the ability to flirt and talk and just be seen together without trying to hide it, is what we were never able to have. Right here, right now, we’re able to just be.

  And it feels fucking amazing.

  She turns, pushing up on her tiptoes to gently kiss me. “Do you know where the bathrooms are in this place?”

  “Sure.” I keep a hold of her hand as we walk, wanting to maintain the easy intimacy we’ve found.

  I stop outside the door as she smiles and goes inside.

  I meander a few steps away, only to be jerked backwards a second later, Tessa’s arms hauling me into the bathroom with her.

  “Tessa, what—”

  She shoves me into the largest stall and locks it behind us. “What do you think, Mr. James? You can’t tease me so ruthlessly without there being consequences.”

  I’d worry about what will happen if someone comes in—if I gave a shit. I crush my mouth to hers and grope all the places I wanted to touch but couldn’t when we were in the main library. She does the same, hands roughly roaming my body like she can’t get enough.

  The way she responds to me, matches my desire for her, is the sexiest thing in the world.

  She pinches my bottom lip between her teeth, holding me in place while she undoes my pants and shoves them down, freeing my cock.

  I slide my hand down her...Christ her panties are soaking wet. I slide a finger inside her pussy and she gasps, releasing my lip. Her fingers fumble on her button as she pops it open and pushes her pants below her ass.

  Shit. “I don’t have anything.”

  She pulls a condom from her sleeve like a magician and tears it open, rolling down my cock before spinning around and sticking her ass up like a criminal about to be frisked against the wall.

  She’s going to be something-ed against that wall.

  I caress her round, firm ass, loving the—

  “Mark. If you’re not inside me in three seconds, I swear to—”

  I interrupt her by shoving my cock inside her tight, wet, pussy, balls deep in one thrust.

  She spreads her legs farther and grabs the top of the metal wall above our heads.

  I’m so turned on, from her teasing me earlier, and by the situation, I’m not going to last long, so I reach around and slick my finger with her arousal before slipping it up to lightly rub her clit. She throws her head back, resting it on my shoulder as I fuck her, hard, giving everything I’ve got with my hips.

  She’s so tight and turned on it’s all I can do not to come, but I hold on, pounding into her, every muscle in my body straining to hold out until her pussy starts fluttering around me.

  “I’m coming,” she moans in my ear, nibbling the earlobe as her body clamps around my cock like a fist.

  That’s it, it’s too much, and my balls tighten and pleasure stabs through my belly, radiating out through my thighs and I fill the condom inside her, still gently rubbing her clit through my release.

  After a moment, she stills my hand with hers. I wrap my arms around her again, nuzzling her neck. This woman.

  This fierce, sexy woman.

  The door to the bathroom swings open, and her eyes widen. I bite my lip, trying not to laugh, feeling like a damn teenager getting caught being inappropriate in public.

  It’s another of those silly, amazing experiences we were denied when we were younger.

  We’ve got a lot of time to make up for.

  I can’t wait.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Tessa

  It’s not that I feel weak or submissive around Mark. Nothing’s really changed, but I like how he’s so strong and sure with me. I liked how hot it made him when I did as he asked.

  If he’s not into submitting...could I? Is that even something I want to explore?

  I’ve submitted before, and it wasn’t...it wasn’t good for me, but I know enough about D/s relationships now to know that the people involved have everything to do with making a scene work.

  The Dom I submitted to had everything to do with that awful experience. But Mark’s not him. With Mark, I think it would be different, but I don’t know.

  What if I submitted to Mark? Would that end up differently than the times I tried before? I don’t want to risk ruining things with Mark, go experimental when we’re only now rebuilding trust. And he’s already driving me halfway up the wall by treating me like some fragile creature who needs protection. If we had a scene together where I let him dominate me, and that triggered me, who knows how long it would take to convince him I’m fine. How long would it take to erase that experience from his mind so things could go back to normal?

  We’re only now beginning to figure out what our normal even is. No, I don’t want to experiment with Mark unless I’m sure it’s something I really want—or at least am okay with. I should be talking to him about it, but this is more about me than it is about us. I need to figure this out separately from him.

  While the idea of letting Mark take charge in the bedroom is sexy, I really don’t feel like a Switch. It’s not that I woke up itching to be bossed around or dominated; my tastes haven’t changed overnight. But Mark is the epitome of Alpha. I can’t see him being down for scenes with me pegging him, or bossing him around—even though a good soldier follows orders.

  Hmm. I shiver.

  I bet he’d be into sensation play, even if he’s resistant to the idea of a lot of other things.

  Not the point, Tessa.

  So. I’ve got an exclusive sex club at my fingertips, and the best Dominants in the world at my disposal. Who am I going to ask to top me so I can see if it’s even an option before letting Mark?

  The first people who come to mind as options aren’t ideal.

  Darko’s one of the best Dominants I’ve ever met, but he’s with my sister now, so that would be a bit strange for me—at least cross a few boundaries I feel are inappropriate to cross with the man who’s collared your identical twin.

  Reiley is an obvious choice for more reasons than I can count. I trust him implicitly, but I’d prefer to keep things completely professional between us. I care about him too much, and love what we have too much, to change a single aspect of our relationship. Letting him dominate me could change things between us, and his is not a friendship I care to lose.

  It has to be someone I trust enough to lose myself in the scene with. While there are many amazing Dominants in our midst, I’d want someone I already have a connection with. I want to give submission a fair shake to be sure whether or not it’s for me, and if I’m more worried about having a scene with someone I’ve never been with before, that’s going to steal some of my focus.

  Especially considering my less than ideal history with submission.

  No, I think it’s best if I submit to a woman this time, if only to immediately remove one similarity from the equation.

  And someone who would understand what it’s like from both ends of the crop? Edda.

  She’s gorgeous with her huge brown eyes and pointed chin, but the brunette’s real appeal is in her smile. She draws you in with it, makes you feel like you’re in on a secret together. It makes her look like she’s up to something, even when she isn’t. Perfect for a sub—she always seems to deserve the spankings she gets.

  But she’s also a Switch. She usually subs, though I’ve known her to top a few people and she’s more than capable at both.

  Mmm. More than capable. I’ve seen her do both.

  The point is, I trust her to know how it feels from the sub’s point of view and not give into the temptation of topping me as though there’s something to prove. Not that others would, it’s just...it’s my own baggage. Whatever, we’re al
l works in progress at the end of the day. No one’s gotten through life completely unscathed in every way.

  And if they have, I’m deeply jealous.

  I find Edda sitting in a plush chair in the main bar, watching something on a personal DVD player. She removes the headphones as I approach. Edda’s got the thickest, most gorgeous thighs I’ve seen on a woman. She likes wearing stockings with garters to accentuate them—and today is no exception. Baby blue and black, her signature colors. Most members have preferences however their styles dictate, but it’s not mandatory.

  Maybe we’ve all got varying degrees of flares for the dramatic. The nature of the beast.

  Am I really doing this? “Edda.”

  “Good Morning, Mistress. Join me?”

  “What are you watching?”

  “Some advanced Shibari techniques.”

  I’ve always found Shibari beautiful, but I’ve never been into participating in the intricate rope-play in any of its forms. As well as being the spanker, I’d rather be the one tying her partner up—or down. “I was actually hoping you’d join me.”

  A blush sweeps across her cheeks. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a scene together.”

  “I’d like to take this conversation somewhere a little more private.”

  She acquiesces by way of setting her DVD player aside and standing, following me as I lead her to my private room.

  Though, now that we’re here, all I can think of is Mark. Mark kissing me, touching me, fucking me, singing horrifically in my shower.

  “Mistress?”

  I shake my head, wondering how long I vanished inside my thoughts. “Sorry. I’ve...this wouldn’t be a typical scene for us, Edda. And I know it’s been a while since I topped you, but that’s not why I asked you here.”

  She flashes one of those smiles at me. “Oh, this is going to be good, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve been going through some things lately. I’m sure everyone’s heard about Mark by now. Not saying it’s permanent, or what that is, but people do talk.”

  “Yes, they do. You’re not the type to accept someone into your bed on a whim. You’re very selective, especially for one of us.”

  I take a deep breath and smooth the fabric of my blouse over my belly, willing the butterflies to go away. “This man...he was once a very important part of my life. And his presence now has sort of...shaken things up. I’ve been thinking a lot about our connection, and...” I pause to take a deep breath. “Would you consider topping me?”

  She blinks a few times. “Wow. I did not see that coming.”

  I laugh because this is awkward as fuck and I’m starting to lose my nerve. “Mark and I...we’re different together. And it’s not that I submit to him per se, but I need to see if this is something I need to explore—whether with him or on my own.”

  “Or both.” Edda bites her lip. “I’m incredibly honored that you’d want me to top you—that you’d give me that level of trust.”

  Goddamn why is this so hard for me? “But?” I fold my hands behind my back instead of nervously picking at my nails like I want to.

  “Even though we haven’t had a lot of scenes together lately, I love what we have, and I don’t want...I’d hate for the dynamic of our relationship to change. And I would freaking love to top you, but...it would change things. You know?”

  She’s right, and I’d hate that too. “That’s fair. I am coming out of left field with this.”

  Edda absentmindedly adjusts one of her garters. “I sort of feel like a hypocrite turning you down. I once offered to top Sloane so she could see if she was only into submission or if she truly liked Darko separately from the situation. Never happened, but still.”

  “No, you’re right. We should keep things as they are. Things worked out with Darko and Sloane as well. I’ll figure things out too.”

  She makes a sympathetic sound. “Questioning things can be hard, but hey, you’re in the best place to explore something like this, right?”

  “True.” Although it’s not something I want everyone knowing about. At least not until I’m certain myself.

  Edda’s eyes widen as an idea occurs to her. “What about Robyn? You couldn’t be in better hands than her.”

  I smile, thinking of the gorgeous black Domme. “I think you might be right.”

  THREE HOURS, TWO SORE asscheeks, and one scene with Robyn later, I settle onto Sloane’s couch with a glass of wine.

  I’m definitely not a submissive, but Robyn and I had a hell of a time discovering that together.

  Sloane’s eyes bugged out a little when I told her about my day—skipping the ins and outs of the specifics—but she understood completely needing to try for myself, and didn’t judge me.

  She sighs. “So you think it’s Mark specifically you like submitting to?”

  I prop my head on my hand. “I don’t even think it’s that. He’s exceptional, therefore he’s my exception. But it’s not that I’m into him dominating me. It’s more that I like when he makes me want to lose control. It’s almost as though every time we have sex, we’re baiting the other in the most delicious ways to see who’s going to give into the desire for the other first.” I take a sip, letting the rich red wine coat my tongue. “Technically, that would be some sort of strange...power dynamic, I guess, rather than a simple D/s situation.”

  “And it’s tough because you’re so used to being the one in control, the one directing the scene.”

  Oh my god. “That’s exactly it. That’s what’s throwing me off.”

  She wiggles her shoulders. “Little control freak sis knows a thing or two about letting go...and how strange that can feel at first. Completely threw me off, that’s for damn sure.”

  “It’s going to take some time to integrate, that’s for sure.” But now that I’m thinking of it in terms of control—or letting go of control—it feels more...right. I’m not submitting to Mark, I’m letting go of control. Not that he has control in...”See, it’s strange how I want to say ‘when we scene’ rather than ‘when we make love. Or fuck.’ But I’ve been in the lifestyle for so long, having vanilla sex—the hottest vanilla sex ever, to be fair—seems odd. No one’s running things? No one’s controlling what happens? Weird.”

  “Not formally, at least. You’re just two people coming together to see what happens and to make each other feel good.”

  “I’ll drink to that!”

  We clink glasses and Sloane sighs. “Far be it from me to rain on a parade—”

  “No, that’s very on brand for you.”

  She snorts. “Fair point. But I know I meddled to bring you guys back together, and truth be told, you actually seem happy right now. But I’m worried if Mark’s good for you since he hurt you so badly before. I’ve been thinking about what he said, how he wanted to make sure you were healthy, and it got me thinking about the fact that he was the one who brought you down in the first place. I didn’t expect you to get back together with each other. I guess I was thinking about things more in terms of closure—not that you shouldn’t get back with him if it’s what you want.”

  “Sloane.”

  She frowns. “Let me just say one last thing, then I promise you I’ll shut my mouth and let you do whatever makes you happy. He’s the reason we almost lost you, and—”

  “No, he’s not.”

  Sloane shrugs. “Okay, I get it, no one can make us do things, that removes our agency, but—”

  “No, I mean it literally wasn’t about Mark back then.” I should have told her before, but how do you weave that into a conversation that you’d both rather put firmly behind you? “I was sad, devastated that he’d left, but I got over that. If there’s a person to blame for showing me that rock bottom had a surprise trap door, and opening it beneath my feet, it was a bad Dom I came across after Mark.”

  “You...what?” She takes a large gulp of her wine. “I am so lost. There was a Dominant who did this to you? Not Mark?”

  “Yes.”

  Her
eyes blaze and she licks her teeth. “What’s his fucking name? Is he still at—no, he can’t be someone from The Underground.”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “I need a name so I can wring his neck.”

  It doesn’t matter that it’s years later, she’s just as mad. It’s sort of sweet. “Reiley already took care of him.”

  “I hope they never find his body.”

  I slap her foot. “Sloane! Reiley didn’t kill him.”

  “Maybe he should have fucking killed him.” The expression in her eyes chills me. “Because if I ever see him, I’ll kill him with my bare hands. It made sense for it to be Mark leaving—not just that, but I knew you weren’t happy growing up—but I thought it was more one of those ‘straw that broke the camel’s back’ situations.”

  “Mark leaving the way he did devastated me, but it wasn’t him who got inside my head and exploited my pain, finding new ways to make me hurt.”

  “Does Mark know about this guy?”

  “No. Reiley’s the only one who knows.”

  Sloane swallows hard. “You should tell Mark. I sort of freaked out on him when he first came back as being the reason you tried to kill yourself.”

  “What?!”

  She cringes. “It’s what I thought happened!”

  “Omg no wonder he’s been so weird with me, treating me like he’d broken me. He thinks he did.”

  I thought he had. When I realized he wasn’t coming back, wasn’t coming back to take me away with him, I hated everything with a viciousness that made my teeth ache.

  But the days went by and that turned to a soul-consuming apathy and depression. I’d been clinically depressed without knowing it. When you’re in the midst of that emotional battle, it can be hard to realize what’s happening, especially when you’re only a teen. And Daddy didn’t believe in anti-depressants. It would have looked bad to the voters.

  He cared about what strangers thought, rather than what was going on inside his daughter’s head.

  I wanted to decorate the inside of my wrist with my pain so I could see it instead of feel it, carving holes inside my chest until I expected to implode. How could something hurt that badly and not be visible? All I was, was emptiness. If I cut myself, would I even bleed anymore, or would I implode from the pressure of the vacuum inside my chest? Was there anything even left inside me, or was all of who I’d been gone too? Maybe dreams were our real lives and when we think we’re awake is really the nightmare; the fantasy.