Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Excerpt - Tattoos and Leather: INKED
Excerpt - Hearts in Chains: Wounded
The Auction Series
Also by Jaymie Holland
Also by Cheyenne McCray
About Jaymie Holland
Tattoos and Leather:
Marked
Jaymie Holland
Copyright © 2014
Tattoos and Leather: Marked by Jaymie Holland
All rights reserved. No part of this e-Book may be reproduced in whole or in part, scanned, photocopied, recorded, distributed in any printed or electronic form, or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without express written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
E-book conversion by Bella Media Management.
Published by Pink Zebra Publishing.
Cover by P & N Graphics.
Chapter 1
Her lover’s fingers skimmed her bare skin, along the curve of her waist to her hip, the movement slow and sensual. Every touch left a heated trail. He slid his hand up her belly, the roughness of his callused palm creating erotic friction. His hand reached her breast and he cupped its weight in his palm.
A sigh of pure pleasure escaped her. His touch ignited the fire that always simmered below the surface within her, like a pilot light that never went out and burst into flame the moment it was ignited.
She could never get enough of him. Never. She was insatiable.
He teased her. Taunted her. He slid her nipple into his warm mouth and she arched her back, begging him with her body to give her all that she desired, all that she craved.
More. She always wanted more.
He kissed a path from her nipple to the valley between her breasts before capturing her other nipple and gently biting it.
A wordless cry escaped her. So loud the neighbors might hear. She didn’t care. She just wanted more.
More, more, more. Please, more.
The desire to touch him in return was almost overpowering. She started to reach for him, but the bonds she’d somehow forgotten held her in place. With her ankles and wrists tied to the bedposts, secured by knotted rope, she was spread wide for him to do whatever he wished with her.
She wanted him to take her. Dominate her. Control her. Her body was for his pleasure.
He eased up to his knees then straddled her to either side of her upper body. He leaned forward and braced one hand on the headboard. She looked into his dark, hooded eyes as he pressed his cock against her lips.
At first she refused him, knowing he loved to force her, to take complete control of her. With a sound of warning, he pushed his cock into her mouth, sliding deeper until she gagged. He ignored the sound, slowly pumping his hips and thrusting his cock in and out of her mouth. She sucked, loving the harshness of his breath when she loosened her throat and took him deeper.
His cock was wet and slick from the wetness of her mouth and he was hard enough that she knew he was close to bursting. She didn’t want him to come yet. She wanted him to fuck her, to take her hard as he used her body for his own pleasure. Oh, God, she wanted him to use her over and over again. She lived for this.
He made a feral animal sound as he pulled out his cock. He moved his erection over her lips, making her want him back in her mouth.
With a dark smile, he eased down her body until his head was between her thighs. He ran his tongue along her folds, tasting her, breathing in her scent. She cried out again, this time almost a shriek when he sucked her clit.
She was so close to climax, so very close when he stopped.
“Please,” she begged him, this time aloud. “Fuck me. Fuck me!”
With a dark smile, he rose up and placed the head of his cock against her wet core. She waited for the thrust that would take her to heaven. Waited for the moment of completion that would take her over the edge into another universe where she would fly to the stars.
And then he vanished.
Again.
He was gone.
Tracie nearly screamed as her eyes popped open. Not again. Goddammit, not again!
This wasn’t fair. It was so damned unfair. She needed to be taken and taken hard, and this dream of her innermost desires and need was going to drive her out of her mind.
If she was the kind of woman to screw a man just for the sake of sex, the problem would have been solved by now. But she wasn’t, and she hadn’t had sex for almost a year, since Master Glenn up and moved to Arizona for a promotion. Granted, it was a big promotion, but she wished he hadn’t had to go. Although she often wondered if it had all been about the sex and the bondage. She’d been happy, but happiest when he dominated her.
God, how she needed to be tied up and fucked.
Her sheets were tangled and the urge, the powerful need to come was too much to bear. She slipped her fingers between her thighs, into her wetness. She was so slick with need.
She never pictured Glenn when she brought herself to completion. It was her dream lover, always her dream lover.
In her mind he finally slid inside her wet heat, ramming his cock home, so deep that she couldn’t hold back a gasp.
Tracie circled her clit faster, rubbing the taut nub, the bundle of nerves. It forced her closer to the edge as she imagined him taking her with long, deep, and powerful strokes.
In the throes of her need mingling with her dreams, he began to pound deeper, harder. Yes, he was in her. So good. So damned good.
The next thing she knew she was spinning. Heat whooshed up her body as she clenched her thighs around her fingers. Her body shook and trembled and she could feel her womb clench even as she continued to stroke her clit, riding out every last vibration until her body could take no more.
Her core continued to pulse and throb and she wished again there was a cock inside her for her pussy to clench around.
With a groan, she relaxed against her pillows and slid her fingers out of her folds. She’d needed that. It wasn’t the same as the real thing, but it would have to do…for now.
She flung her arm over her eyes. Would she ever find a man who could fulfill her needs? She wasn’t into one-night stands and she wasn’t into vanilla sex. Vanilla just didn’t do it for her anymore.
Once she’d explored BDSM, after watching a movie that made her realize she wanted it more than anything, nothing else would do. She’d been born to be a submissive in the BDSM world. She was meant to be a Master’s toy, his plaything. She received the ultimate pleasure when she gave him pleasure. In a way, she had the control.
With a sigh, she looked up at the ceiling, taking in the whorls in the paint and the cobwebs in one corner. Yes, it all came down to the fact that she was a submissive and she needed a Master.
She supposed she should call Angel and tell her that she’d decided to go back to the dungeon where she’d met Master Glenn. It had been a constant reminder of him, but she was better now, not so gun shy of
developing a relationship with a man only to have him up and leave her.
Because that was the kind of thing that happened. Maybe not to other women, but it had always happened to her. She’d learned it was just part of her life. Men left.
Her father had moved out when she was ten and her brother, John, was fifteen. Her father had started a new family somewhere else, a family he loved, hundreds and hundreds of miles away. She didn’t even know where he was, and frankly she didn’t care. Although, when she was honest with herself, she realized it still hurt.
When he was eighteen, John had left. He’d enlisted in the Army and joined Special Forces. It looked like her brother was going to be a lifer.
In high school she’d had a boyfriend and after dating him for two years, she’d given her virginity to him. But then he’d left too, heading clear across the country from New York to U.C. Berkeley. He was a year older than her and she was still in school, so she couldn’t follow. Then he’d met someone else.
And then there was Glenn. She knew she’d never been truly in love with him, but she cared about him and they’d been close, really close. She’d thought maybe they could build something permanent, but that had ended, too. In his defense he had offered to take her and she had declined.
Most of the men in her life hadn’t set out to hurt her, but they had. The only one she would never forgive, though, was her father. He’d abandoned them and had other kids that he loved more than her and John.
Come to think of it, maybe her dream lover left her because, why not? Everyone else did. Of course, that thought was ridiculous. A dream lover couldn’t stay to begin with.
She slid out of bed and glanced at the clock. Good. She had just enough time to go for a jog and then head to the airport. A nice long jog would help her to settle down and get her mind off of dream lovers and things she couldn’t change.
But maybe, just maybe, she could change and open herself up to meeting new men.
Maybe.
Chapter 2
Tracie Bell glanced at the closed door of the gate where her flight would depart from Los Angeles International Airport to Honolulu. The flight from La Guardia to LAX had been smooth sailing, and even though LAX to HNL was a long flight, she was looking forward to a couple of days in Hawaii. Normally she didn’t work flights to Hawaii, but she’d agreed to it for a friend who had needed to go to a relative’s wedding.
As her mind wandered, Tracie’s gaze settled on two beyond sexy men who were deep in conversation. They reclined in seats between the A and B boarding gates so she couldn’t tell which flight they might be on. Somehow, with their masculine grace and ease, they managed to make the stiff backed LAX airport seats look comfortable.
Well, hello there.
I’ll take a little of that for Valentine’s Day. Maybe a lot.
Then she wouldn’t be alone for one of her favorite holidays, which happened to be tomorrow.
Oh yes, baby, please give me some of that.
She smiled to herself at her naughty thoughts as she let her gaze drift over the man on the left. He had short, wavy dark hair and a muscular torso that couldn’t be hidden by the black polo shirt he wore. The short sleeves revealed hard, muscular biceps and triceps that flexed as he moved, and his arms were veined, showing that he had low body fat and clearly worked out.
Tats peeked from beneath his sleeves and she longed to run her fingers over them, tracing the ink over those clearly defined muscles. She loved a man with tattoos. She wasn’t sure why—maybe it was a bad boy thing. As the second man listened, the corner of the first man’s mouth curved into a lopsided but oh-so-sexy smile that would make any woman melt if that smile was directed toward her.
A playboy, she decided. The man was definitely a playboy. She had a feel for these things.
The second man wore a white button down shirt, open at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he looked way past built beneath the cloth. His hair was dark and short, his jaw strong and his features hard. The white of his shirt was in stark contrast with his tanned and strong forearms that were braced on his knees as he laced the long fingers of his big hands. He had a dark, intense look about him, and not so ready with a smile as the other man appeared to be. She’d peg him for the dark, silent, and dangerous type.
The danger would be to a woman’s heart because he didn’t look like a man who had any intention of settling down. When her gaze slid back over Playboy, she got the same “single and that’s the way I like it” vibe from him. He was enjoying life too much to let a long-term relationship get in the way.
Yes, she’d call them Dangerous and Playboy. Fantasies couldn’t get much better than what was going through her mind now. Not even the one with her dream lover.
She let out a little sigh. No doubt in her mind, Dangerous and Playboy would make great Doms. They had the self-assuredness of a Dom in their postures, and Dangerous looked arrogant as hell.
They were probably both jerks and she didn’t have time to have lustful thoughts about jerks. Still her mind wandered and imagined the men without their shirts, one holding a flogger while the other one fastened cuffs to her wrists. She could so easily picture it. She would be wearing a red bustier and high heels with stockings and skimpy panties. A Valentine’s Day gift to herself.
Does Dangerous have tats, too? If he did, maybe he’d allow her to run her tongue over them, following whatever path they made until she was moving down his chest to his hard abs and further down until she was on her knees—
As one, the men slowly turned their heads and looked directly at her, as if they felt her eyes devouring them. The corner of Playboy’s mouth curved into his easy, sexy grin. Dangerous looked at her as if searching her with his eyes to find what was deep in her soul.
She must have turned fifty shades of red. It was one of the pitfalls of having skin as pale as hers. When she blushed it showed from the roots of her hair straight down to her toes.
Playboy started to get to his feet. Tracie wasn’t about to let him approach her if that’s what he had in mind.
Her long ponytail swung around her face as she turned and wheeled her carryon bag behind her. She headed for her gate, hoping beyond hope that her ears and neck weren’t a brilliant red. The fact that she’d blushed in the way she had was clear proof that she’d been caught in the act and she couldn’t fake bored disinterest. She walked at a rapid pace, reaching her gate in moments, and greeted her fellow employees.
As usual, she tuned out the voices that were just white noise to her as people were told when their plane was boarding, what rows were boarding next, and giving last calls. This time she couldn’t have focused on them anyway with the blood rushing through her ears.
When she came to a stop in front of the closed door to the ramp, she smoothed down her shirt and picked a piece of lint off her slacks. Her clothing, along with comfortable shoes, made for a comfortable uniform. She was glad that skirts, blazers, pumps, and little hats were a thing from far in the past.
Angel Cartwright, Tracie’s best friend, walked up to the gate as she searched her bag. Angel was anything but an angel. She was one of the best people Tracie knew, but she wasn’t as soft, sweet, and peaceful as the name might imply. She had a naughty streak ten miles wide and didn’t put up with anyone’s crap.
That was, outside of a dungeon. When it came to her proclivities toward BDSM, Angel reveled in the usually hidden submissive part of her nature.
Angel lived in Brooklyn, like Tracie did. It didn’t happen often that they worked the same flight, and they rarely made the leg to Hawaii, but Tracie was grateful her friend was there.
“Everything all right?” Angel greeted her at the closed door to the ramp. “Either you have a bad sunburn or someone managed to make you blush.”
Tracie did her best to smile. “Fine.”
Angel rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that bull.”
Tracie tried to give a casual shrug but knew it wouldn’t work and settled for the truth since A
ngel was her closest friend. “I got caught staring at two of the yummiest-looking men on the planet.” She let out her breath. “I might as well have been undressing them with my eyes. Well, actually that’s exactly what I was doing.”
Angel laughed. “And I take it you didn’t stick around long enough for introductions.”
The thought of doing something like that made Tracie warm all over again. “Hell no.” She fanned her face with her hand as if that might cool her off. “The number one reason being I don’t pick up strange men at airports or on flights.” She shook her head. “Not happening.”
“Again,” Angel pointed out.
The memory of that one time caused Tracie’s scalp to prickle, this time from anger. “Believe me, I learned my lesson.”
The ramp door opened and Angel and Tracie both headed down the decline to the plane. This flight Tracie would work first class while Angel took the rear in coach. David would have the front of coach, standing close to the curtains that separated first class.
“It’s supposed to be a bumpy flight.” Angel pulled her carryon luggage behind her. “Big storm before we reach Honolulu.”
Having flown on an almost daily basis for the past six years had made Tracie immune to panic or concern, even in the worst of storms. Maybe a good storm would keep her thoughts off of Dangerous and Playboy. Of course if they were headed to Hawaii, that would make things awkward. Real awkward. Hopefully they wouldn’t be in first class if they were on this flight.
Tracie, Angel, and David greeted Captain Richards and the co-pilot who was new to the airline. Once everyone had taken his or her place, the cue to start boarding the plane was given.
Feeling like a Barbie doll with a fixed smile, Tracie started greeting those with small children and anyone else who needed to pre-board. She relaxed into her normal warmth, the mask slipping away as she helped the new arrivals find his or her seat or put luggage in the overhead bin. It was a long flight from Los Angeles to Honolulu and she wanted to make sure everyone was as comfortable as possible. As first class finished boarding, she let her guard down a little. The two men hadn’t boarded but there were still two open seats in first class. The men she’d watched had definitely looked to be the type of men who didn’t fly coach.
Marked (Tattoos and Leather) Page 1
