Dark & Dirty: A Dark Erotic Fantasy Anthology

by Lea Bronsen

Fingers trailed across the curve of her right butt cheek. The touch went from the outside of her hip to the inside of her cheek. Her lower stomach clenched, and she craved more of his contact, perhaps his whole hand. And even more than that, she craved his touch to move to where she wanted it most. Anything to relive some of the pent-up pressure that had gathered. She sucked in her lower lip and tilted her hips into his hand.

  He chuckled beneath his breath.

  The sound broke her out of the moment. Was he laughing at her? How pathetic was she to allow such a simple touch to reduce her to putty? She sucked in a sharp breath and straightened.

  Before she had the chance to turn and confront him, she found the front of her body plastered against the glass partition.

  “Do you have a problem following commands?” he asked, his voice laced with bafflement.

  “What?” He had never handled her like this, nor did she know how to respond. Her first instinct had been to fight back, but she didn’t want to hurt him.

  “I told you not to move, and then you go and pull away from my touch. What…is that it? Do you want to be punished?” His hand at her waist tightened. “I don’t believe it.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. Let me go.”

  “No. I already told you that your time has passed. We’re moving on from that. What I want to know is why you pulled away from my touch. What went through your head?”

  She gave short shakes. “Don’t.”

  He sighed and pressed his forehead against her temple. “You should have run from me, Joey.” These words were spoken so low she almost didn’t catch them. But she did, and their meaning were baffling, utterly confusing. He, a man who’d grown from a young protector and hidden her away when the beatings at home became too much. A man who’d always had her back, even when he opposed everything she stood for. A man who had always been such a dear friend to her.

  And yet, she’d put him in this spot.

  Shame washed over her. She’d manipulated the situation to her advantage to get what she thought she wanted. He’d come here for whatever his reason, which was obviously sex, but more than likely not with her. She hadn’t listened when he said no. Hadn’t done what he asked and sat by until he was finished. Even though the shame filled her until she felt poisoned, still the thought of him touching someone else made her feel nauseous.

  “I’m sorry I’ve put you in this situation.” She blew out a heavy breath, fog creating a round, little glow against the glass.

  His hand curved over her hip to lay flat against her stomach. He pressed her toward him and nuzzled her face, brushing his lips where his forehead had been. “What situation? Talk to me.”

  “Well…” she hedged and bit her lip, all kinds of a coward. She wanted to be looked at as a grown woman, it was time she started acting like one. “Making you bring me up here. I’ve ruined your night, so I’m sorry.”

  The hand at her hip ran up the length of her spine to fist in her hair and pulled back. Not a tug or a yank, but with steady pressure until she was forced to look at the ceiling. Brady ran his nose along her neck. Her breath jumped.

  “Making me bring you up here?” he asked, his voice holding a slight edge.

  “Yeah,” she said on a shaky gasp. He removed his hand from her stomach and reached across her body to slide the strap of her halter over her head. The dress pulled hard against her. He held the strap in front of her face, then dropped it. Being so tight against her at the bodice, it didn’t fall. Small favors. “Brady,” she called. What was he doing?

  “I’ve never been one for following orders. Haven’t we had this conversation once tonight?” He nipped her throat and she jumped. “Stay still, Johanna.”

  She swallowed. “What are you doing?”

  He wrapped his palm around the top of her throat, then inch by slow inch, slid it down the length until his hand splayed across her exposed cleavage. An unsteady breath in her ear, his mouth hovering. Then he grabbed the front of her dress, his intentions clear as if he screamed them.

  “Wait,” she said.

  “How much do you like this dress?”

  She frowned. “What? Please don’t rip it.”

  He tightened his grip of her hair. “I want to. I want to rip this fabric off you so goddamn bad.”

  Her breath burned out of her lungs. “Why?”

  “Because I never want to see you in it again.”

  “What?” she choked out.

  “Because,” he said, almost talking over her, “if I see you in it again, it’s just going to remind me of that time I fucked your brains out.”

  Her stomach flipped.

  “And then I’m going to want to fuck you all over again. I don’t know if I could be held accountable for my actions.”

  “Brady…” she said, but nothing more came out as he gave a steady pull again, this time on the front of her dress. The material strained, something tore at the side, and then her breasts were freed. Cool air drew her nipples into tight peaks, and behind her, Brady’s whole body shuddered.

  “Fuck,” he said. Hot breaths pushed across her temple, his hands holding her hips tight. The night had definitely taken a turn she didn’t know how to process. This was the whole problem, why she asked him to teach her things about sex. Well, at least that had been what it was originally about. Now? She had no clue. Did she interact with him? Touch him? Could she move yet? Or was this part of his foreplay? Because if it was, it wasn’t doing much of anything but making her too self-conscious.

  There was no way she’d forgotten that the room was nearly full of individuals watching them. And since she faced them, they probably had a pretty good view of her breasts, not an image she supposed was sexy like the skinny vixen that had been on stage before her.

  And the longer he stood behind her not moving, the more her exposed breasts shamed her. They were too big. Heavy. And outside tonight, always wrapped with sports bras. The image in her mind turned uglier and uglier. What the crowd had to think of her. What Brady had to think of her.

  Her sinuses flared, her eyes burned, and humiliation washed over her in a tidal wave. How had she ever believed she was good enough to be with Brady. To actually turn him on.

  She turned her face away from his mouth and her breath hiccupped.

  “I don’t know if I can be gentle,” he said low, strained.

  She swallowed a hard lump, trying her best to hold everything inside until she could escape. She brought one arm down and over her chest, wanting to shield herself, or help block the ugliness of her body from the crowd, she couldn’t decide which.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have put you in this position. I feel so embarrassed.” She turned, barely making it around before finding her back against the wall again. He hadn’t moved an inch.

  He stared down at her incredulously. “What the hell is this? What are you talking about? What position? Why are you embarrassed?”

  She clenched her teeth. Damn if she would say it. “Don’t. You don’t have to play dumb. It’s okay. Let’s go get Samantha, or whoever you asked for earlier.”

  “The fuck we will.”

  His vehemence took her aback. She met his gaze. An alarm licked across her skin. The man in front of her was no longer the protector she’d known, the friend who’d made her laugh until her stomach hurt, the colleague who’d had her back more than a hundred times. No, he was danger personified. A living, breathing predator who was extremely pissed off. And all that anger focused on one thing.

  Her.

  “You had your chance,” he said and unbuckled his belt. He whipped it out of his pants. Leather snapped and licked through the air. “I told you there was no longer an option of escape. You had that slim moment, and I gotta tell you, Johanna, I don’t even think you’d have been able to escape then, either.”

  She slid down the glass wall, moving away. She couldn’t help it. His words bled fury. His gaze jumped down to her feet and back up agai
n. Then he cocked his head in a very animalistic move “You going to try to run now, Joey? After what I’ve just said?”

  His tone mocked, but his words held an undercurrent of warning.

  “Don’t try and tell me you wouldn’t prefer someone else?” she hissed out. “That they”—she gestured toward the crowd with her free hand—“wouldn’t prefer someone else.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you deaf tonight? Or is the dumb routine part of the scene for you?”

  Her spine snapped straight. “Fuck you.”

  He grinned. The bastard actually grinned! “No,” he said, amusement lacing his words, “I’m going to fuck you.”

  Then, he lunged.

  She tried to turn and run, but came up short. Before she knew what happened, her hands were bound by his belt and held over her head, hanging from a large hook that had come down from the ceiling. He gathered her dress and pulled. The fabric tore, then the cloth fell to the floor, baring her body with the exception of the tiny, French-cut thong.

  She froze, shocked to her core at the depth of violence Brady had meting out in under thirty seconds. And to her, no less! He’d never raised a hand to her. Never hurt her. Never manhandled her in such a way.

  Yet...if she were being honest, he hadn’t hurt her now either. But he had definitely manhandled her. There was no doubt about that.

  She ignored the slight thrill that gave her, to know he could throw her around as if she weighed nothing. Instead, she turned furious eyes toward him. He didn’t meet her gaze. No, the a-hole had the nerve to slide his inspection across her exposed flesh.

  “Let me go,” she demanded.

  He brought his hand down on her exposed ass cheek. The smack echoed in her ears. “No. And each time I hear you say something idiotic, you’ll be punished to my choosing.”

  “Idiotic?” she said, seething, her ass stinging. “How dare you?”

  He turned and hit a switch. The lights lowered. His hands on her waist turned her to face the glass again.

  Stretched out, she had to admit, her reflection was shockingly erotic. Almost beautiful. From here it looked as if she had long, graceful legs, when they were anything but. Only an appearance because of the cut of her underwear, the way she had to point her toes to reach the ground.

  Even her breasts looked shapely, her dark nipples a stark contrast against her creamy flesh.

  Her hair trailed down her back and over her shoulders to curl enticingly above her cleavage.

  But still, no matter how scandalous the look, it was an illusion. Not who she really was.

  Brady stepped in front of her, blocking her view. She wasn’t complaining, though. He’d removed his jacket and shirt, and had only his dress slacks on with the top button undone. He’d even removed his shoes.

  Hair long enough to pull dusted his chest. He was broad shouldered with strong pecs and abs that weren’t necessarily model perfect, but fit him to proportions and no less beautiful. He was perfect to her. Every inch of him a piece she wanted to touch, taste, and lick.

  Above her head, her hands clenched.

  “Look at me,” he demanded. The blue gaze of his irises burned into her with a stunning intensity. “I don’t know what to do with you. I have to give you that, Johanna, no one has ever done that. And yet, at the same damn time, I want to punish you, but also hold you in my arms. It’s fucking driving me insane.”

  She lifted a brow and tried to stop focusing on the lush pad of his lower lip. It looked bitable. “What?” She thought over his words. “Now that you have me tied up, you don’t know what to do with me?” She laughed without humor. “Please.”

  He shook his head and rubbed his chin. “No, you missed my intent. I’m torn between fucking you silly, or marking your body with my touch or the kiss of leather. How is it you can drive me toward violence and gentleness at the same time?”

  Her entire body clenched in questionable fear. “Like that BDSM shit? You’re into that stuff?”

  He gave a slight nod, almost unsure of himself, which wasn’t like him.

  “You want to beat me.” She couldn’t figure out if she said it as a statement or a question.

  He took it for a question. “Not beat you. Mark you. Bend you to my will.” His attention narrowed on her lips. “Fix that smart little mouth so you stop talking back…before I put it to other uses.”

  “Hurt me.”

  He drew up so quick she hadn’t seen him move. His face was centimeters from hers, his hand wrapped under her jaw. “Never.” His chest brushed against her nipples with each ragged breath. “Don’t you get it? My touch on your body, whether it be soft or hard, is never designed to hurt you. Do you honestly think I’d ever do anything like that to you or any woman?”

  She thought over his question. There was no need. She’d already known the answer as well as she knew herself. “No.”

  “Do you think any of the men or women in this room would allow me to do something that hurt you? In a way that wouldn’t bring you pleasure? Have you lost your faith in humanity that much?”

  The reminder that they weren’t alone slapped across her senses. Brady had her complete attention. She’d forgotten everyone else, a feat she would have called impossible. But it’d happened. The dark glass behind him beckoned. “They can see me naked.”

  “Of course they can.”

  She turned her face away, shamed all over again.

  “Hey,” he said and turned her back with a hold under her jaw. “What is going on with you? What’s this?”

  “Please,” she said, her voice shaking.

  He frowned. “Please what?”

  “Take me down. Don’t make me do this.”

  He froze and stared at her for several seconds. “I thought you wanted this. You asked for this. You wanted me to teach you.”

  The hint of vulnerability took her aback and showed a different side of him. “I’m just…I’m not like the other women up here. My body…it’s just not…”

  His lips tightened. “Stop.”

  She looked up at him again. Uh oh. The anger was back.

  “Stop what?”

  He didn’t answer, or rather, he didn’t answer with words. His mouth crushed against hers and his tongue thrust into her mouth. His kiss laid a claim on her, his tongue the skillful puppet master. He stroked her to respond, urged her to participate. And did she ever. How could she deny him anything? How did she think she ever could?

  She tangled her tongue with his, matched his rhythm and thrust, lost herself in how to feel. How he made her feel. There was nothing she could compare it to, the feel of his mouth rubbing against hers. The soft nips with his teeth, the soothing licks to take away the hurt. His fingers holding her head in place, yet at the same time moving in an erotic massage against her scalp. She couldn’t explain it, but each tiny motion he made with his hands sent sparks of pleasure across every inch of her skin. As if her body was waiting in breathless anticipation for him.

  And his taste…the sweetest nectar to her parched soul.

  He broke away from their kiss with a rough sound, then placed his mouth next to her ear. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

  Her thighs clenched, and instantly, she was drenched. Ready. He pulled back and grinned at her, as if he knew. The bastard.

  He turned behind her and faced the darkened window again. In their reflection, she watched as he dropped his head. The sight of him combined with the feel of him biting at her hip had a moan tearing up her throat. He dropped down, then looked up, holding her gaze as he pulled her thong off using his teeth.

  Rising to his full height, he moved slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. The silence, his lack of words or erotic lines sounded too loud. She fidgeted, unable to easy the coil inside her.

  “Brady,” she said on a breathless moan.

  He paused. “Yes, baby? Something you need?”

  She narrowed her eyes while her stomach flipped with the endearment. He knew what she needed. The proof visible with liqu
id running down her leg and in the hard tips of her nipples. She tried to pull her hand from its binding, but no matter how strong she was, there was nothing to be done.

  Instead, she dropped her head back on a gasp. Something was going on with her body. Something she couldn’t control. This deep, deep ache built inside of her, almost a restless kind of animal that wanted to be set free.

  She bit down on her lip, both scared and a little daunted by what she’d gotten herself into. She didn’t understand this feeling. Didn’t understand this need.

  Brady grabbed her hair and yanked her back even more, thrusting her chest out to try and follow the movement. She had to curve her spine into the shape of a C, and held her weight by her tippy toes. “I asked you a question, Johanna. I expect an answer.”

  Her mind worked frantically back in time, trying to remember the question. Oh…what did she need.

  “I don’t…” How could she put this into words? Did he expect her to voice what she wanted? Him. Hadn’t she already said so? “What?” She tried to get her thoughts in order.

  But instead of asking her another question, he let go of her hair, wrapped his arm around her waist, lifted, and stepped forward. The hook she hung from rolled along some track high above. She couldn’t see it, but she could sure hear. The sound stopped just before her body jerked to a halt with a tug on her hands. Brady pushed forward and pressed her against the glass wall.

  The coolness of the glass was a shock to her senses, especially since she felt overheated, as if she’d combust from the inside out.

  He stepped away and the sound of rustling cloth followed, the rip of something. A grunt. She tried to see him behind her in the reflection, but being so close, the angle wasn’t working. Slowly, something else began to happen. With each breath she took, her stomach pressed her hip to and fore against the glass, creating a slight friction with her skin. Not enough to get her off, but enough to remind her of a sensual little dance that could follow.

  The glass also gave off a steady hum, almost a vibration, but it wasn’t steady at all, she realized. No, it was vibrating to a beat. And her body subconsciously tried to get closer.

  Brady stepped up against her again, and this time there was no mistaking him being stark naked. Coarse hair from his chest and legs brushed against her back and thighs. The proud jut of his erection slid between her legs to run against the lips of her core. She spread her legs as much as she could, seeing as she was still on her tippy toes. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.