YIELD - Emily & Damon (Fettered Book 1)

by Lilia Moon

  She flies up, like the wondrous, amazing woman that she is.

  I growl into her ear. “You don’t come until I tell you.”

  The pissed-off moan she lets out has several people in the room laughing. Quietly—this audience is a handpicked one. They’ll respect what they see, no matter what it is. But they’re adoring my Emily, and I love that.

  Because I’ve finally figured out the obvious. All she has to do to fit into my world is to show up.

  I find the bundle of nerves to the left of her clit that is particularly sensitive and rub hard, tight circles. She keens and pushes back against me, her head thrashing.

  I need to see her eyes. I lift her, shifting myself out of the way and turning her over. I prop her ass in the air over the fanciest of her pillows and lie down beside her.

  She’s watching me, confused, but utterly unafraid.

  I slide one hand under her face and the other between her ass cheeks. Everyone else can watch. Right now I just need to see her eyes.

  I travel my fingers in slow, undemanding circles from her clit to her ass, letting her get used to the new position. Letting her realize exactly how exposed she is, in this new way. Letting her imagine exactly where my fingers might be going next.

  Her breath starts coming in quiet, panting whimpers.

  I smile and shake my head. She’s so damn easy. “Not until I say you can.”

  She groans and presses her face into my hand.

  I thrust a finger into her ass and watch as she fights off the orgasm with everything she has.

  And I know I’m lost.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Emily

  My meditation pillow is imprinting its jeweled patterns into my belly. I can feel the fire raging, my spurting wetness as Damon slides his finger in and out of my ass. The first time surprised me and I almost came. I can hold it off now, but it’s not easy.

  He doesn’t want it to be.

  He switches his hand around and it’s his thumb I feel pressing on my ass, his fingers running down my folds. Finding all the sensitive spots.

  I groan as his thumb slides in. He’s reminding me of where he was the first time I came.

  I can feel myself rocking into his hand and I try to stop, to be still.

  He starts rubbing a hard, fast pattern on my clit as his thumb slides in and out of my ass.

  There are sounds from the people watching. Appreciation. Arousal.

  I can feel my cheeks flaming.

  “Let them see. Let them feel a little of what you feel.” He’s smiling at me, his face in close to mine.

  I know what they can see, and it isn’t just his fingers bringing me to the brink. It’s his eyes, his tenderness, his commitment to being here with me in the way that I need. No toys, no props, no roles. Just his hands and what lives between the two of us on raw, wide-open display.

  I’m so fiercely proud of us. I’ve walked the walk and bent over the spanking bench and made my choice and he has done the same. There’s just one thing left.

  I put what I want into my eyes. I need to come for him. I need to come for us.

  He groans, and his fingers speed up. Thrusting, rubbing, pulling, calling me to where I want to go. He leans in and kisses me, whisper light, and it’s all I can do not to drown in what lives in his eyes. “Now, sweetheart. Come for me now.”

  His fingers are moving in their insanely talented way, trying to make it as easy for me as possible. I don’t have enough breath to tell him none of it is necessary.

  I’m tipping over an edge into somewhere beyond, somewhere I’ve never gone before, and he’s coming there with me. His arms are pulling me in, wrapping me tight as I shatter, as I let every bit of who I am rise up to meet him and what he’s asked of me.

  Saying yes.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Epilogue - Damon

  Emily runs by me, flowers in one hand, sheaf of papers in the other. She’s wearing a fascinating mix of high-class fetish wear and demure wedding planner. Something she and Ari apparently concocted, and it’s doing its job. I want to ravish her. Again.

  I grin. It took her three tries to actually get dressed this morning, and that will have to hold me until this damn wedding is over.

  Ari stops beside me, looking amused. “Do you need to use your safeword, boss?”

  I scowl. “I’m not scared of weddings.” Much.

  Not any more scared of them than a guy who is well on his way to being head-over-heels in love with a schoolteacher in a yellow sundress should be, anyhow. I smile again—that poor sundress is going to be in tatters soon.

  Someone in full leather stops to compliment Emily on her outfit, and I shake my head. I might have thought she didn’t belong in my world, but my world has spent the last week making it really clear they disagree. Even the blogger story that’s gone viral is ridiculously sweet. And strange. I’m not used to people assuming the best about me.

  Doxy and Jimmy have found Emily now. They’re flaunting convention and hanging out with the people who’ve come to see them get hitched. I know it’s almost time for them to disappear, so I make my way over to do my duties as host. I’m quite sure I’m unnecessary. Emily has this thing totally in the can.

  Doxy winks at me as I walk up, and gently nudges her man.

  I wrap my arm around my sub. The need to touch her is constant.

  Jimmy bends down and gives Doxy the kind of kiss that would give guests heart palpitations at any wedding but this one.

  She shakes her head when he’s finished. “Save it for the honeymoon, big man.”

  Emily is smiling, adoring the hell out of both of them. “Where are you guys going?”

  “Private island.” Jimmy slides his arm back around the shoulders of his bride-to-be. “A whole week of naked with catered food.”

  Doxy leans into him. “Sand, sun, warm water, and Jimmy’s really big collection of anal plugs.”

  He reaches down and smacks her ass. “That’s supposed to be a secret, woman.”

  She jumps, sharply enough that I’m pretty sure I know where one of those plugs is currently located. I can also see that my sub has figured it out, and she barely knows which way to look.

  I grin—it’s not like she wasn’t warned.

  Doxy winks at the squirming woman at my side. “I’ll just eat dinner in the corner with Emily and anyone else who can’t sit down today.”

  Emily blushes, all the way down to her toes.

  I keep my hand at her back and manage not to laugh. She’s having a hot love affair with my newly refurbished spanking bench, and she’s quickly learning exactly how to get her Dom to apply his hand to her ass, even when he knows it’s still sore from the last go-round.

  I’ll have to do a very thorough job of kissing it better later. And if I spend a good long time licking some of the beautiful things I find on the way from one ass cheek to the other, so much the better.

  I can see Jimmy watching both of us, a very knowing look in his eyes.

  Emily either hasn’t noticed or doesn’t care, and either way I’m okay with it. She’s stepped into my world with grace and guts and charm and a rapidly building reputation for blushing adorably every time anyone is the least bit naughty with their words. Which is pretty much like throwing catnip on the floor at a BDSM club, so her cheeks might never make it back to their normal color.

  But every damn time someone makes her blush, they end up giving her a hug and taking her out for tea or asking for her business card to give to someone they know who’s getting married.

  I’m pretty sure that if I get rid of Emily at this point, Seattle’s BDSM community is going to get rid of me.

  Fortunately for all of us, that’s about the last thing I have on my mind. Emily has taught me everything I need to know about surrender, and I’m just letting go and hanging on for the ride.

  Or making her hang on.

  I grin. I might not have a private island in my near future, but making my woman dance with a plug in her a
ss tonight has a certain appeal.

  Sometimes I have to at least pretend that I’m the guy in charge.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Epilogue - Emily

  Nothing about this wedding should work, but it does. There are people in fetish wear chatting with Jimmy’s daughters, Scorpio is happily taking curious relatives on tours of the dungeon with Harlan glowering behind, Doxy looks radiant in a white leather corset and red skirt that somehow manage to say sexy bride with no problem at all, and Damon has only winced a little at the glittering gold streamers festooning absolutely everything.

  We might have gotten a little carried away with the streamers.

  Then again, he found a good use for one that fell down last night.

  Gabby walks up and wraps an arm around my waist and sighs wistfully. “I want a little of what you’re getting.”

  I’m not sure she does. The streamer incident led to a midnight picnic at Gas Works Park, which was pretty far out there, even for my rapidly liberating self. As was the tree we climbed on the way home.

  Damon swears people never look up. If they did, I hope they have really poor eyesight.

  He says we’ll try it again when the cherry blossoms are blooming next year. Me, bent over a branch, trying not to fall out of the tree as I come so many times I can’t even tell where one orgasm ends and the next one starts.

  Making up for fifteen years.

  The ache between my legs is ramping up just remembering. It’s a fairly constant state these days. Endless wanting. Which is ridiculous. Between last night and this morning, I’m pretty sure I need more than one hand to count the number of times Damon’s had his way with me.

  Gabby just pats my shoulder and laughs, winks at the man beside me, and heads off to deal with some detail she’s spotted.

  I’m oddly short of things to do. Between Ari and Gabby and Scorpio and their band of merry minions, this is the most organized wedding I’ve ever had anything to do with. Which is good, because I’ve been a little distracted lately.

  Okay, possibly more than a little.

  I close my eyes. It’s gotten bad when I want to drag my Dom off and find out just how much we can accomplish in a coat closet before the bride walks down the aisle. I shake my head and try to get a few of my brain cells out of the closet. Right now I have to be a respectable wedding planner and go take my seat, which is going to be more complicated than usual. It’s a good thing the chairs are padded.

  I take Damon’s hand and lead us toward the back corner where I generally sit. Meghan smiles and waves as she passes by, a couple of minions in her wake. She’s a very happy woman. We both ran out of business cards hours ago. New clients are not going to be a problem.

  Assuming I can persuade Damon to open the club on Saturday mornings.

  I hide a smile. I’m learning that I can be very persuasive.

  He slides his chair closer to mine and leans over to whisper in my ear. “Whatever you’re thinking, I’m sure I can come up with some alternatives to spanking.”

  “I hear the goody bags are full of interesting options.” I didn’t recognize half of them, but I’m guessing he will. In the meantime, I have other ways to amuse myself. I slide my closed fist briefly into his pocket and then turn to face forward, settling my body language into the prim lines of a veteran wedding attendee.

  Eyes slightly puzzled, he reaches his hand into the pocket I just vacated. I hear the moment he finds the silk thong I put on earlier today. The one I refused to let him take off. I lean in. “I hear this place has lots of nooks and crannies where a Dom might bend his sub over and have his way with her.”

  His growl is loud enough that several people turn to look. The wiser ones just keep their eyes forward and chuckle.

  I grin. I’ve become a total tease. Damon calls it topping from the bottom. I call it fun. The things that happen afterward definitely are.

  He scrawls something on the back of the wedding program and hands it to me.

  I read it, and then need to use it to fan myself.

  He grins and stuffs the program in his pocket along with my panties.

  The musicians shift to the music that I know will walk the bride and groom down the aisle. I turn along with everyone else to look, and sigh as I see the carefully scripted procession thrown out the window by a man in love.

  Jimmy has scooped up his tiny bride and is carrying her forward in his arms, and the look of adoration on his big, broad face is as far gone as anyone I’ve ever seen.

  I can see Leo homing in on them out of the corner of my eye, capturing an absolutely perfect moment forever.

  Beside me, Damon has stopped breathing.

  I look up, not sure what I’m expecting to see. Certainly not my suave, confident Dom looking totally poleaxed. I slide my arm around his waist, knowing that this time, he’s just stepped into my world—and he’s seeing it at its very best.

  I lace my arms around him and lean into his heartbeat. “Hard limit or soft?”

  For a moment, I don’t think that he hears me. And then his eyes meet mine, and what I see there has my heart stopping.

  Green light all the way.

  * * *

  That’s the end of the story, but if you want one last peek at Emily and Damon at the wedding dance, go to the next page and follow my instructions… xoxo Lilia

  Note from Lilia

  Don’t worry, my loves! I have more stories of Fettered coming to you very soon.

  First, a little bonus content! If you want to hear whether Damon makes good on his threat at the wedding dance, sign up for my email list. There will be special bonus content for each book, just for my subscribers. Signing up will let you hear about my next release as soon as it’s out, too.

  Next up in the Fettered series, a certain tattooed tough guy is about to meet his match—and if you read carefully, I bet you know her name. I’m guessing you’ll be a little surprised by her innermost desires, though—I know she is!

  Go sign up for my email list so you don’t miss the next release (hint, it’s coming really soon!), and then come play on Facebook. Safewords are optional. :)

  xoxo Lilia

  P.S. If you write Emily & Damon a review (for which I am always grateful)—please let me know here!