Covet the Curves: a Romance Collections Anthology

by Morgan, Nicole

  “No. Nothing looked good.” She licked her lips. “And I was thinking maybe you were right. We should go out.”

  He turned to her, but his face was guarded. Not a natural expression on him. “What changed your mind?”

  “I—I’m sorry.”

  He frowned. “Sorry about what?”

  Vicky swallowed. Her eyes were about to overflow again.

  “Vicky?” Ryan set aside the beer and stood up to put his arms around her. Concern washed the frown off his face. A much more familiar expression on him. “Did something happen at the grocery store?”

  Yes. No. Not really. “I’ve been such a horrible, controlling, critical bitch to you.”

  “Who said you were a bitch? Did you run into Lissa?”

  She shook her head against his chest. “You told me.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Not in so many words, but you were right. I make you kneel.” A sob broke from her.

  “Honey, come on now. Calm down and tell me what happened.” He pulled her down to the grass, stroking her hair.

  “I realized at the store that everything you said was true. I’m so awful to you. I always tell you what to do.”

  “I don’t mind that.”

  “Yes you do, you said you did.”

  “Just sometimes.” He laid her back and leaned over her. “Are you calmer now?”

  Vicky nodded afraid to open her mouth or she’d start sobbing again.

  “You are so beautiful.” He traced around her eye with his finger.

  She shook her head.

  “Yes, you are. A little pushy, a little opinionated, but still beautiful and I love you.”

  “I don’t know how you can. It’s got to be Stockholm Syndrome.”

  “It’s no syndrome. I like that you know what you want and that you tell me, I just wish sometimes you’d let me do what I want.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  She tried to take a breath, but it turned into a shaky gasp. “You don’t want me to lose anymore weight.”

  “Not really. If you want to I can’t stop you, but I like you this way.” He smoothed his hand around her hip. “Especially now that you have clothes that fit you. All your other stuff was hanging off you. Do you still want to lose more weight?”

  Excellent question. Getting down to her married weight meant looking like Olivia who reminded Vicky more and more of a concentration camp survivor or a high fashion model. It also meant never eating another French fry. Not getting back to her married weight meant Derek was right when he said she was chubby.

  Derek was a jackass who had had his hypercritical talons in her life for entirely too long.

  “I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll relax a little on the diet and exercise and see how that goes.”

  “But you’re still gonna do yoga, right?” He smiled. “I love watching you do yoga.”

  She matched his smile. Doing yoga for him was exercise she would never mind. “I need to introduce you to a little thing called the Kama Sutra.”

  “I like most of the things you introduce me to.” He leaned down and kissed her, leisurely exploring her mouth. She grasped his shoulders. Out here in the backyard? No one could see them. And if they did, they could just stew in their own jealousy. She didn’t give a damn what they thought.

  Epilogue

  “Hey, babe, where you at?” Ryan shoved the door closed behind him. Vicky had gotten a little over enthusiastic with the weather stripping, but the door closed and it certainly kept the cold out so no harm, no foul. Her desk in the front room was clear. This morning when he left it had been littered with note squares that she was using to order the plowing jobs for him and reorganizing the regular jobs for Frankie.

  “Basement.”

  Her footsteps were already coming up the stairs, so he set the bag in his hand on the floor, hung his coat on the peg behind the door, and sat down to take off his boots.

  “I figured you’d need something warm so I made stew in the slow cooker.”

  “Excellent, I’m starved and exhausted.”

  “What’s that?” She pointed to the bag.

  “Mrs. Ferguson sent over cookies. Don’t eat them, they taste like dish soap.”

  ”Don’t worry, I made some cookies after I got the stew going.”

  “You are amazing.”

  “So.” She cocked her hip against the doorjamb. “What do you want first? Food or sex?”

  “You have to ask?” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap. Under her bulky sweater her curves drew his hands like magnets. “I can’t believe you made me go out at four in the morning to plow.”

  “People needed to get out of their driveways and I promised you would be suitably rewarded.” She kissed him, twisting her hips on his eager cock. Hot and wet and very welcome.

  About the Author

  Belle Maurice loves fairy tales, hot men, and rain. What else would you like to know?

  Website: https://wordpress.com/view/bellemaurice.wordpress.com

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  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BelleMauricewriter/

  Also by Belle Maurice

  Trio

  How Beauty Saved the Beast

  As You Wish

  Gray’s Seduction

  The Curvy Seduction Saga ~ Prequel

  Aidy Award

  About the Story

  Gray has been Angelina's bodyguard for years and in lust with her since the day they met. When she finally kicks her stupid fiancé to the curb he's got a chance to finally make her his.

  But, he won't be her rebound.

  Angelina is tired of being the chubby doormat of a Latina rich girl. She's thrown out her no-good, cheating bastard of a fiancé and now she's ready to rebound...with some revenge sex. What better way than to go out on the town with her friend and secret crush, aka her bodyguard.

  He will help her find that kinky desirable side of herself. Even if means sacrificing his own happiness.

  For everyone who never quite got over

  that one book boyfriend

  Chapter One

  Fucked

  Agh. Beautiful women, in various states of arousal surrounded me. The most desirable submissives who wanted nothing more than to let me do every dirty thing in the dirtiest of books to them and I didn't want to fuck a single one of them.

  I could get any of them off or have them begging to be allowed to come. I could send even the toughest brat so far into subspace she wouldn't even know her name and then pull her back with the gentle touch of aftercare. All without a tingle of interest from my own damn cock.

  Fuck my life.

  Maybe BDSM wasn't my thing anymore.

  “Sir?”

  I looked up from the now watery glass of whiskey I’d been nursing for half an hour. A rail thin woman with big bouncy had-to-be-fake tits, wearing only the collar designating her as an Asylum house slave knelt before me. All I could think about was how she needed to eat a cheeseburger or something. God, I was such a dick, not fit to be with anyone, much less dominate them.

  “Master Bennett sent me as a gift to use as you please. How may I serve you?”

  Fucking Bennett. This woman was no gift. She was a taunt.

  It had been three years, four months, and twenty-nine days since we’d gotten out of the VA hospital. My body had been healed three years, four months, and twenty-two of those. Foster Bennett’s not as long. Not at all.

  Bennett wouldn't let me forget that for even a minute.

  I’d love nothing more than to tell this sub to take the night off, just to piss on Bennett’s parade. This little submissive had signed up to be used, but not like that.

  I glanced around the club to see who else I could pawn her off on.

  There were plenty of other Doms around, and I couldn't seem to catch a single one’s eye. Not even Jackass Jim. No doubt I had Bennet to blame f
or that. Shit.

  Damn. If Delta had taught me one thing, it was how to improvise. It wasn’t like I didn’t know what to do with her, I just didn’t want to. I could certainly give her pleasure, but there would be none in it for me. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

  “Sir?”

  “No, that's what you’ll call me when you’re coming.”

  She blinked like she was surprised by that. How long had she been in the lifestyle? Not long enough to deal with the likes of me.

  “When I ask you a question, you answer verbally. No thinking, stay out of your head. Got it?”

  She nodded.

  I didn't move except to raise one eyebrow.

  She swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl. Now, what’s your name?”

  “Celine.”

  Pretty name. Pretty girl. If she didn’t smarten up, she was going to get taken advantage of in all the wrong ways.

  “Safe word?” Not that I thought she’d need it. Not tonight, not with me. I wasn't interested in pushing her limits.

  “Red.”

  “Any particular hard limits out of the ordinary big ones like no blood, no scat, etcetera?”

  She swallowed again, and I reconsidered playing her at all.

  “No, Sir.”

  Wrong answer. She was on my lap with her legs spread before she could blink. I held a chunk of her hair tight and wrapped my other hand around her throat. She instinctively grasped my arm, her eyes dilated, skirting the line between arousal and fear.

  Her pulse raced beneath my palm and I pressed against her skin. Not enough to restrict her breathing, just enough to see if this was her kink.

  She parted her lips then licked them trying to be sexy, but I recognized fear when I saw it. She wanted me to think she liked this.

  Did I care?

  Not really.

  But, she did, or at least needed to. I might have a black soul, but it was good for putting the fear of God in sweet innocent young things. Celine needed a little fear.

  I tightened my grip on her throat and whispered in her ear. “Everyone has hard limits and I don’t like your answer. So, we’re going to work on it.”

  Jesus, was that my voice?

  “But…Yes, sir.”

  Damn, she was so green. I ought to scare her all the way out of this lifestyle. I could. Push those limits she thought she didn’t have. Ruin her. Destroy her. I knew how to be that guy.

  I hated what Bennet had become. I was worse.

  Who the fuck was I to talk anyone out of doing what they want. I thought I could help. I was wrong.

  “Good girl.” She wanted to experience a Dom? I could give her that. There wasn’t much else I had for anyone.

  “One hand between your legs. Spread those lips and legs wide for me. Let everyone in here see that pretty pink pussy.”

  She released my arm and dropped her hand. There was a massive submissive streak in her. She wanted someone to take her power away. But, she was like so many other greenies. No idea she held all the power.

  I didn’t need to glance around the club to know a lot of eyes were on us. Men, and probably a lot of women wanted her, even more would when I was done with her.

  “Don’t move another inch, Celine.”

  The way she froze at my slightest command, was beautiful. I wish I wanted her. I wish I felt anything.

  I growled out my next words. Celine didn’t need to know I had no use for her. “Say it.”

  “Sorry?”

  My voice went even darker. The devil in me itching to get out. “Never apologize.”

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  “That’s what I want to hear. I won’t punish you now, but if you fail to say it again, I will. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  We would see.

  “Now. Fingers in your pussy, stroke your clit, nice and slow and tell me if you’re wet already or if we need to get you ready.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  If I didn’t ruin her tonight, she’d be a beautiful sub for someone. Anyone but Bennett. I might be able to destroy her.

  He would annihilate her. Wipe her out and try to rebuild her in a new twisted image only his sick mind could envision.

  And I was the one who’d made him that way.

  “I’m…I’m already wet, sir.”

  “Let me see.” She raised her fingers and they glistened. She was more than wet. She was dripping. For me. I couldn’t care less. I needed to find a way to pretend I did, at least for a little while. “Lick those fingers clean. Tell me what you taste like.”

  She moved her fingers to her mouth and touched her lips. I loosened my grip on her hair prepared to meet out her first taste of my reminder.

  We would soon find out if pain was a deterrent or a kink. So far, the only ones I knew turned her on was exhibition and my domination.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ah. You were this close to feeling the smack of my hand on your pussy.”

  Celine gasped, the tiniest but and for such a fleeting moment that if I hadn’t been paying attention I might not have noticed. She wanted the pain.

  That was something I could give her.

  I’d had every intention of keeping my hands off her, letting her get off on words alone, but in the mood I was in, physical domination would be safer. For her.

  “Across my lap, Celine, legs spread wide and those fingers don’t leave your pussy unless I saw so.”

  I released her and she scrambled to comply. Yeah, she wanted this spanking. A whole lot more than I wanted to give it to her.

  She got herself positioned even with the awkward position I demanded of her. Her ass was in the air, her pussy exposed and her fingers were on her clit.

  I didn’t move a muscle, only waited.

  I didn’t do pain for punishment. Denial was a much harsher teacher.

  Celine squirmed and turned her head to look back at me. When her eyes met mine, they went wide.

  “Shit. Sorry. Shit.” She sighed, looked away and down at the floor.

  Lesson learned.

  “Two words, little sub, and I’ll give you want you need. Forget them again, and your next punishment will be much more uncomfortable.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Smack. I brought my hand down hard, hitting not just her ass, put that wet pussy too. She groaned exactly like I expected her to.

  I gave her two more before her next instruction. “Each time I spank you, stroke your clit. But do not come until I say you can.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She didn’t forget this time.

  I didn’t start in on her slow and gentle. I didn’t pepper her ass cheeks with light spankings. I should have. I didn’t.

  I brought my palm down over her wet pussy over and over, ten, twenty, fifty times, until her skin was red, her legs were shaking, and her groans had become one long wail with her need.

  When we began her fingers were anxious to flick her clit fast and furious with each spanking, but now her hand and thighs were soaked and she barely touched herself each time.

  “Are you ready to come?”

  She panted before answering and her voice came out the tiniest of whimpers. “Yes, sir. Please.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I spanked her again and again and again. She was on fire. I was nothing. I had no intention of letting her come, because I was a fucking asshole.

  But, I was nothing compared to what Bennett would do to her if he could.

  He was watching. Since his plan to fuck with me hadn’t worked, he’d want what I had from this sub.

  God dammit.

  I’d wanted to save her, from Bennet, from herself. Like always I’d fucked everyone involved.

  A huge body stepped between Bennett’s line of sight and mine. “That’s a pretty little sub you’ve got there, dickhead. You gonna let her come? Or do I have to do it?”

  Jackass Jim was like a fucking knight on a white horse. Always
coming in to save the day.

  Fucker.

  I bent over Celine and whispered into her ear one last time. “Come for me. Now.”

  She exploded, screaming, “Yes, sir.”

  With her pussy still pulsing from her orgasm, her fingers still pressing on her clit, I picked her up and handed her, full-body over to Jim.

  “Fuck you, Jackass.”

  I walked out of The Asylum, knowing Jim would see to Celine’s aftercare. He always did the right thing, and I hated him for it.

  I used to know what the right thing was. Not anymore.

  This was no life. I used to want one. At least I thought I did. Even if I didn’t know how to feel anymore, I needed to make a change. Do something good for someone, anyone.

  There had to be someone out there who needed me.

  Chapter Two

  Angel

  Jesus. This talking head across from me was one slimy piece of shit.

  He was going to give me a job on Cruz Enterprises security detail. They wanted former military to be a bodyguard for the owner’s daughter. Why these richy rich types needed protection was beyond me, especially for some little girl.

  I was sure she was a spoiled rotten brat, because everyone around here were all a bunch of entitled assholes with pictures of trophy wives on their desks.

  Not that I was a whole lot better.

  This was like taking money from a baby.

  I’d get the brat in line and it was only five years. I did that kind of time killing terrorists and saving Americans in Delta. I could handle a glorified babysitting position.

  Probably.

  Cruz and his daughter were just a stepping stone. If I could get some experience and some cash, I could start my own security firm, save some lives. Guarding these delicate flowers was hardly what I’d call experience, but the money was unbelievable.