by Various
“Well, it’s affecting my work… Do you know, I actually wrote a scene today that…”
Her voice trailed off. No, she could not even tell her best friend her fantasies. Even as she wrote the pages this morning, her cheeks burned with shame and humiliation. How could she want to be treated this way?
“Never mind, it wasn’t well-written anyway.” She sighed as she dusted a photo of her husband. Jack grinned that rakish grin of his, his arm around her shoulders in a protective embrace. She remembered that moment. Jack had received a book award and the two of them attended the ceremony. As they were leaving, a fan came up to her and had been rather pushy about getting an autograph. His eyes, however, had not been on her face. Instead, he had leered at her breasts, the tops of which showed in the scarlet slinky dress Jack had purchased for her. The nakedness of her cleavage made her uncomfortable, yet Jessica wore it to please him. Only recently had she begun to recognize her giving in as an indication of her submissive tendencies and it still confused her.
Jack had put his arm around her, drawing her close, and she had seen a flash of anger in his eyes. It had surprised her; she had never seen him angry. In fact, it was the 70
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only time she had ever seen such a strong emotion from him. But the photographers were there and by the time they were in the hired limo, his demeanor was placid once more.
“No, never mind, Andi. I’m just being cranky, that’s all. Seriously. I just need a good fucking, that’s all.” She laughed, shocked at her own use of language. “I know, too much information.”
She set the picture down, free of dust, and moved on. The conversation also moved to safer topics and Jessica felt as if she had dodged a bullet. It was hard enough admitting these feelings to herself. How could she ever admit them to anyone else?
Only later, sitting at her computer once more and reading over the graphic scene she had written, did Jessica finally confront what she had spent years running away from. As an independent, woman who made a good living for herself and her husband, she was a thoroughly modern American Woman; but just under the surface lurked another woman. That was the woman who wanted to submit, who wanted to be taken care of, who wanted to live on the edge of virtual slavery. While she didn’t take care of the money, Jessica felt it was important for her to provide her share. Thus, she worked as an English teacher at the local high school, even though she’d much rather stay home and write full-time like he did. So why would a woman who rarely gave in and who was in total control of herself want exactly the opposite when it came to the bedroom? It didn’t make sense.
Or did it? Wasn’t the giving up of control in essence, also the giving up of responsibility? She controlled every aspect of her life, from what to have for dinner to what book she would write next. She did the lion’s share of the housework although Jack had his set of chores as well. Outside was his responsibility; inside was hers. An equal sharing of household management. These duties she did not want to shirk.
Indeed, she enjoyed most of them.
So what was it? Why had her dreams always been haunted by men who persisted when she said no? Why had she come so hard yesterday afternoon when she imagined him flogging her? Why was she now so aroused at the scene she wrote this morning?
With an oath, Jessica closed the scene on her laptop and dumped the file into the computer’s trash bin. She could never show that to anyone. Jack put her on a pedestal.
He loved her deeply and he would never, ever consent to what he would see as a brutal attack on his own wife. This was just something she would have to accept. Determined to quell those desires once and for all, she pushed herself away from the screen and went to find the mop. Didn’t matter that she just mopped the kitchen earlier in the day, she was sure it needed it again.
* * * * *
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For several moments, Jack stared at the strange file that suddenly appeared in the folder he and Jessica shared. While they each used their own computers, the two were networked and information they both needed to access was kept in this shared folder.
But the one labeled, “Jessamyn’s Submission” did not sound like a document the two of them would both need. Obviously it was a story Jessica was working on, but why had she put it here?
He shrugged. She had never asked his opinion on anything she had written in the past, but they often discussed points that gave them trouble. Must be she was having difficulties with this piece. Determined to be helpful, he double-clicked and opened the document.
What was there about this pirate captain that stole her heart so? Captured on her way to meet her fiancé, why had she chosen him? His oversized white shirt hung in graceful folds from massive shoulders bronzed by years of seasons in the southern sun. In his callused hands, he caressed the leather of a many-thonged flogger in the same manner his fingers caressed her skin the first time he took her.
A taking? No. A giving. Lady Jessamyn turned her back on her London upbringing and gave herself to this captain of a pirate ship. Despite his rough demeanor, his harsh words to her, his threats; she had seen the vulnerable man underneath…the man who could also love with a passion deeper than any of those landed London fops could even imagine.
And now she was his. Completely. Stretched naked before him in his cabin, her bound hands tied to the rough beam overhead, her eyes watched him run the leather straps through his hand as he surveyed his property.
Property. It was what she was in any case. Whether the property of a fop, or the property of a pirate captain, who it was that owned her was the only part of her life she could control. And she had. Her cheeks blushed as she remembered the morning she knelt before him and asked him to keep her. He told her to beg him in front of the entire crew—and she had. Her humiliation stripped the pride from her and her arousal caused her cheeks to flush. She became the Captain’s woman. And she would have it no other way.
Now the flogger fell on her stretched and bound breasts, breasts turned a deep pink from the constriction of the ropes that encircled them. Her head fell back and her eyes sparkled with the passion ignited by the sting. Barely able to touch the floor with her toes, she fought to keep herself still as his blows, some soft and gentle, some hard and stinging, landed on her tender flesh.
He shifted his position now, coming to her side and coloring the skin of her bottom. The heat rose and she knew her cream flooded the small slit that separated her legs. And when his finger suddenly plunged into that slit from behind, Jessamyn moaned and pushed herself back, wanting to feel his touch inside her body.
Jack read the passage through twice, his cock hardening at the image the words provoked. An image not so very different from the one he, himself, had written earlier.
Had Jessica seen that passage? Had she peeked? And what was his sweet little wife 72
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doing writing such incredibly violent scenes? Jack read the short page again, too stunned to accept that his wife might have similar desires to his own.
Jessica’s humming came to him through the open doorway and, feeling like a boy with his hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar, Jack clicked the program closed in a hurry. She might have left that in the folder for him to find…or she might not have.
Staring at the now-empty screen, Jack’s analytical mind turned over the problem. If Jess had taken his idea and rewritten it, she would not want him to find it. But what if she had been harboring these feelings of submission for these past two years? Could she have put that there on purpose? Jack’s blood quickened at possibilities too life-changing to contemplate just yet. He needed more information.
Affecting an air of nonchalance, he sauntered out into the living room where she was busy tidying up. Saturdays were housework days, and she had changed her weekday suit for jeans and a simple oxford shirt. All business, Jessica’s hair was pulled back, the red scrunchie a mismatch for her maroon button-down shirt rescued from the back of Jack’s clos
et. The oversized shirt gaped when she leaned over the low coffee table and Jack grinned when he caught an innocent glimpse of her white breasts hanging free from any confining bra. It was a sight he could look at all day.
Jess recognized that look in his eye right away. Putting her hands low on her hips, she swayed them seductively. “Hey there, big boy…wanna have some fun?”
Jack’s delighted laugh pealed through the room. How could he ever think such a little minx might give into the same dark fantasies that fueled his own soul? Yet the scene he read remained in his mind. Did he dare to hope?
His grab for her was rougher than he intended. With a small cry, she fell against him and in one of those split second decisions, he decided he would not apologize.
Instead, he seized the moment, pressing his lips against her in a hard, passionate, possessive kiss.
Jessica’s head reeled. Jack had never been this forceful before. While her first instinct was to recoil, her second was to yield before the onslaught of his tongue.
Confused, for a moment she hung suspended, off balance, attacked. When his hand grabbed her breast through the fabric of her shirt, she whimpered and her mouth surrendered without her consent. Through her parted lips, his tongue stabbed in to twine around hers, as if her mouth were something he owned.
She had been feeling a bit naughty all day so only her jeans covered her mound and pussy. Jess left the white cotton panties in the drawer. Jack’s fingers found her nipple and squeezed; her wetness spread along the seam of her jeans. The pirate king held her in his arms.
With an oath, Jack thrust her away from him with almost the same force he had pulled her to him. What was he doing? This was his wife, for crying out loud. She was proud, independent, secure in her sexuality; not a wannabe slut like the women he detailed in his books. He staggered and turned away, unable to look her in the eye. He could not face her disgust.
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Jessica’s shock at losing his passion was almost as great as seeing it. She said nothing, unsure what was happening. Trying to marshal her thoughts, her chest heaved with awakened and unfulfilled passion.
“I’m sorry, Jessica. I don’t want to hurt you.” Jack’s tight voice choked out the words.
“Hurt me? How? Because you just gave me one heck of a kiss?”
“You deserve better. You are my wife. You warrant my respect.”
“Yes, I do.” Her brow furrowed. What was he getting at? “But I also deserve your passion. Jack, you’ve never kissed me like that before.”
“Jess…” She stood there, so beautiful in her earnestness. What was she saying? Did she not realize how close to the edge he was? “Jess, don’t tease me. There are demons that lurk inside me, demons that want to hurt you. Tease me and I will not be able to control them.”
Jessica frowned in puzzlement. “Jack, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Tell me.” He remained silent, his breathing labored and his eyes dark. Did she dare hope?
“Jack, I am your wife and I deserve to see the demons you think you have. We are married. There are not supposed to be any secrets between us.” Even as she said the words, her cheeks colored as her mind considered her own hidden desires.
Jack snarled and turned away. He paced to the fireplace, the pictures she had just dusted catching his eye. Jessica had glowed that night she wore the dress he chose for her. He knew she was uncomfortable with the low-cut neckline, and it had given him a rush to know she wore it anyway just because he asked her. His anger left him. She was right. She deserved to know the truth.
His body relaxed and he turned to face her, his movements slow and sure. Jessica’s breath caught in her throat as she recognized the predatory look in his eye; it was the look she always imagined finding there. Swallowing hard, she set her chin with determination…and fear. Could it be? Might her husband not be as disinterested in sex as she had come to believe? Could he also need something more than just plain sex to interest him?
With a graceful ease, Jack towered over her, his hands resting on her soft, smooth shoulders. For a moment, he gently caressed them, his eyes never leaving hers. He saw the fear in her eyes, and something more…excitement? There was only one way to find out how far he could push her before that look turned to disgust. He let his hands trace down the length of her arms; firm hands that brooked no nonsense. Jack stood a full foot taller than she did and her head hung back, not breaking from his eyes that held her spellbound. What was he doing to her?
He needed to bend as his hands reached hers. For a moment, he entwined his fingers through hers, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin on back of her hands. “I read your scene, Jessica. Is that what you want? Tell me. Is that what you want me to do to you?” His fingers tightened around hers even as his voice hardened.
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She saw the change in his eyes, the possessiveness. His hands hurt hers and she almost cried out. How had he read her story? She had put it in the trash, hadn’t she?
His grip tightened and she whimpered. Suddenly it didn’t matter how he had found it.
“Yes, Jack. Yes.” The pleading in her voice was stronger than she intended, but she could not, did not want to take it back.
“Jack, hurt me. Take me and possess me like the pirate king. Please, Jack. If that’s the demon that resides in you, let it out. Please let me be her.”
Even if he wanted to, he could not stop the animal raging against his mind. For two years he held himself back, afraid his wife would no longer love him and now here she was, begging to be treated like the whores he created in his dreams. Grabbing her shirt in both hands, he ripped it open, the buttons scattering unheeded along the floor. He shoved the material down her arms, trapping her hands inside, exposing her breasts to his hunger.
Jessica squirmed, but her hands only became more entangled in her shirt. Jack’s strong hand closed over her right breast and squeezed, slowly increasing the pressure.
Deeper and deeper his fingers dug into her tender flesh until she at last cried out.
But he did not remove his hand, or even lessen his grip. Instead, he tightened his fist even further, turning his hand to twist her breast, stretching the skin to its furthest limit. Only when she cried out a second time did his hand release her.
“Is that really what you want, Jessica? Pain so intense it can only lead to pleasure?”
“Yes, Jack. Please, don’t stop.”
Her heart beat hard; a sudden fear blossomed in her belly. It swelled to her throat and for several moments she could not breathe. What would he think of her? What would he do to her?
Not giving her time to change her answer, Jack grabbed her hands, pulling her backward through the house. Jessica stumbled along behind, the shirt still entangling her. Several times she tripped, only to have his strong arms catch her. At the foot of the stairs, he paused long enough to throw her over his shoulder before climbing to their bedroom.
Jessica didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at such treatment. In one way it seemed melodramatic and overdone. And yet, there was no amusement in his eyes when he threw her onto the bed and yanked down the zipper of her jeans. With a single move, he pulled the jeans off her legs and exposed her naked mound to his view.
He did not try to hide his grin. She had dressed as a slut for him…no bra, no panties. Only the shirt and jeans.
Jessica had never seen such a grin in his eyes before. Not one of laughter and fun, but one of predator enjoying its prey. She struggled against the shirt that still bound her arms, working herself loose. But before she got far, Jack grabbed her leg.
“You’re not going anywhere, my love. You wanted to see the animal inside. Here he is.”
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Jack knew his habit of leaving his ties on the back of the decorative chair in the bedroom drove his wife nuts. Often she would scold him for not taking care of them then hang them herself. But two lay across the chair back at th
e moment and Jack grabbed them both.
With a deft tie, Jack secured her ankle to the iron bedpost. Jessica, her arms now free, pushed herself up and tried to pull her leg away, but it was caught fast. Too late to prevent him, he grabbed her other ankle, yanking it down to fasten it to the other bedpost. Her legs spread wide and in spite of her sudden fear, her juices gushed to fill her slit.
The closet was only a stride away and Jack was back with several more ties. What did he need so many for? Two more would secure her wrists, and she did not fight him as he pulled first one arm, then the other, and used the ties to spread-eagle her body on the bed.
“Is this what you want, Jess? Is this the way you want me to treat you?” Jack’s voice was rough and gravelly with his own passion. Let her get a taste of the animal inside him. It would teach her not to play with fire.
She was where she dreamed of so many times before. Helpless before her husband, open to his every whim. Her voice barely a whisper as she faced her own hidden desires, she answered. “Yes, please. Let me submit to you, Jack Blackburn.”
The heroine bound against her will, the hero winning her over with his ways, the inevitable sex scene where she gave herself to him of her own volition, his desires becoming hers.
His thoughts from the morning filtered back through his consciousness. Could it be true that her desires and his were the same? His voice still rough, he barked out his question. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
She could not meet his gaze. With tears in her eyes, she admitted the truth to him at last. “I didn’t want you to think ill of me. You saw me as independent and strong. But I don’t want to be strong all the time, Jack. I don’t want to have to make so many decisions. I want to be here, used by you in whatever way you want. I want to be your slave, Jack.”
The tears fell free; tears of shame mixed with relief that now her secret was told.
Jack had every right to leave her over this—she wasn’t the woman he thought he married.
For several moments, Jack simply stood there, partially stunned at her revelation, mostly rejoicing. “Jessica, I did not want you to see the Dominant I really am. I can be very demanding in the obedience I require. Are you saying you will submit to me in every way?”
