The A Little Bit Trilogy Bundle: A Little Bit Submissive; A Little Bit Rough; A Little Bit Controlling - A BDSM Erotica Romance

by Bebe Wilde

  He stared at me. “Really? That’s all you want?”

  It wasn’t. No. It wasn’t. I wouldn’t say that but it wasn’t.

  “That isn’t what you came for,” he said flatly.

  “It isn’t?”

  “No, you came back for more, for more games, for sex, sex games, right? These are games, simple games. You want to be dominated.”

  “No.”

  “Really? Of course, you don’t,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes a little. “You’ve shown that, haven’t you?”

  “It’s not about that,” I said, getting frustrated, hating the fact that he was spelling it all out, that I was that obvious.

  “You don’t get sex,” he said. “Or what it’s about. It’s about letting go. That’s all it’s about.”

  Was he right? Was that what I was afraid of, letting go, losing control?

  “Why are you still sleeping with your ex?” he asked. “I mean, you are, aren’t you?”

  “Well, yes and no. Mostly no.” I stopped and shook my head. “It’s complicated.”

  He shook his head and the look on his face was of intense frustration. He’d had enough, it was obvious. “Get out.”

  “What?”

  “You’re fired.”

  “Wait! No!”

  “Shut up,” he said and went to the front door, opening it, wanting me to walk through.

  “No,” I said. “You have it all wrong.”

  “What do I have wrong, Teagan?” he said softly.

  “It’s not about him,” I said. “It’s…”

  “What’s it about?”

  I stared at him. “I want… I want to…” No. I couldn’t say that.

  “What do you want?”

  Could I do that? Could I verbalize my wants, my desires, my needs? I didn’t think I could. I felt silly, stupid, like he might laugh at me if I told him what I really wanted that I wanted to see what he might do to me if I gave myself over to him a little.

  “Teagan?” he said. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to… To do what you want,” I said, then added, “To me.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  I shrugged, feeling slightly humiliated, and stupid. I guess I wanted to see what this whole thing was about and I didn’t want to wait. Maybe I wanted to prove something to him, to let him know I was there, I was willing and that he shouldn’t turn me away.

  “Tell me more,” he replied and crossed his arms.

  “It’s just… Just something I…” I stopped and took a breath.

  Silence, then, “Tell me what you want, Teagan.”

  I shivered in delight and fear. I thought about the flogger, the one I’d found in his desk days earlier when I’d been looking for batteries for the TV remote. “The whip,” I said, breathlessly.

  “What?”

  “That thing,” I said and waved my hand towards his office. “The flogger.”

  He stared at me. “So, you want to go there?”

  I did. I wanted to go there. I wanted to see what it would feel like. He’d spanked me earlier and though I’d been mad as hell at the time, it had sparked something in me. And ever since I’d laid eyes on that flogger, I wanted to see what it was for. The thought of it had loomed heavily on my mind: What is that thing for? What would it feel like?

  “I do,” I replied.

  “Then come with me.”

  He led me into his office and retrieved the flogger. I tingled at the sight of it, of what he might do with it. What would he do?

  “If we begin this, we have to see it through,” he said. “Do you understand?”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “Remove your dress,” he commanded.

  Without hesitation I took off the dress and stood in my underwear and waited for what came next. He held the flogger by its leather handle, moving it around gently so that the strands of black leather dangled in the air. He got behind me and just waved the flogger over my back, coming down on my skin in small licks. Then he held the flogger over my ass and slapped it hard. I shivered in delight. That’s what I had been after, that relief, like scratching an itch. And then it came down against my ass again with lots and lots of tiny licks from the strands of leather. Soon, I was dancing with pain and pleasure and once he’d decided I’d had enough, he bent behind me and grabbed my buttocks in his hands and squeezed them. He kissed his way up my back and kissed the place behind my ear lightly. Then he moved away and threw the flogger down on the desk then exited the room.

  “Where are you going?” I said, slightly flabbergasted.

  “That’s enough for tonight,” he said from a distance. “It’s late. You should go home.”

  I stood there for a second wondering what to do then I smiled. I suddenly understood what he was doing. This was just part of it and it was a good start to something great. Maybe I should have ended it there with him but that naughty girl inside of me persevered. Mainly because Roman excited me. Mostly because I wanted more.

  Before You Leave

  And so the affair had begun. It was exciting, it was entrancing and it was all encompassing. I avoided my ex-husband, Kier, as much as I could during that time but he’d pop up occasionally to remind me he was still alive and wanted me back. That was the jag he was on right then but I was done with him.

  As the affair progressed, our games became darker and filled with intense sexuality. They were extreme, as they should have been, but the undercurrent was something entirely different. He was giving me something he wanted to give but he gave it because he wanted me to suffer for it. The games came in different forms but they all had the same underlying theme. They were all about him trying to get to me, to break down my walls, to let me allow him in. I didn’t realize it at the time, I just thought what we were doing was fun, exciting and totally different. But later on I realized he was insecure about us, mainly because he thought I loved someone else, my ex-husband. He didn’t want to get used but he didn’t want to give up on me, either. He couldn’t get past that enough to fully commit himself to me. And, maybe, I felt the same way. In the end, it would be a choice between what I knew, Kier, and the unknown, Roman. I dreaded that day coming.

  I have to admit that I did still love Kier. We had been married and he was still a permanent fixture in my life whether I wanted him to be or not. But during my time with Roman, that short few months we gave into our deepest, darkest desires and fucked ourselves silly, I avoided him as much as I could. Besides, I had a house to sell. A house that everyone loved and no one wanted to buy. It was Roman’s house, a mid-century masterpiece with a sunken living room and to-die-for kitchen and baths. Expensive, sleek and ultra-modern. The house of a spy or a multibillionaire. But it wasn’t selling.

  Try as I might, the house sat on the market for the length of our affair. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t selling. Maybe I wasn’t trying too hard because I was afraid of what would happen once the house sold. That almost made me panic. Once we didn’t have that connecting factor, his house, how would we fit into each other’s lives?

  But I had to push all that aside. I was a star real estate agent and I could make this happen. I was nothing if not resilient. Selling the house became a point of pride with me. There was a buyer somewhere out there for this property, if only I could locate them. I began to reach out to international clients, making contacts, trying to find the one person who could prove me right. I was the best. I had to stay the best. This house wasn’t going to change that. It was that simple.

  When I got home that morning, the morning after Roman used the flogger on me, I took a quick shower then got dressed for work. When I went into the kitchen, Kier was sitting at the breakfast nook reading the paper and drinking coffee. He startled me so much, I stopped short and almost screamed until I realized it was him. I shook my head at him and put my hand over my thumping heart. “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, taking in his rumbled clothes and his beaten up looking face. I felt bad for that. Oh, Go
d, what a mess.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Trying to salvage my deal,” I said and went to the coffee pot. At least he’d put some on. “You almost fucked me! He almost fired me!”

  “Let him fire you,” he said. “At least I won the fight.”

  “Have you even seen your face?” I asked and poured a cup then went to the refrigerator for creamer. I glanced at his face, at the bruises and scratches and gnashes. He looked worse than Roman. I shook my head at the incoming guilt I would feel over this and fixed my coffee.

  “Yeah, me and a lot of other people,” he said. “I saw the mug shot in the morning paper.”

  He shook the paper and I caught a glimpse of him on the front of it. Well, what could I say? Nothing, so I did just that and rolled my eyes. Then I stared at him, at his handsome face, dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes. I was getting a little sick of this, to be honest. Whenever I’d try to move on, there he’d be holding me back. I ignored him and sipped my coffee, then leaned back into the counter and realized he and I couldn’t go on like we had been. He had to go. He just had to.

  “And just so you’ll know,” he said. “That’s the second mug shot I got because of you.”

  “Me?”

  “You,” he said. “The first was right after our divorce was finalized.”

  “You asshole,” I said. “That wasn’t my fault! You were driving drunk! You could have hurt someone!”

  “Well, I never did it again!” he exclaimed. “Sorry, I was depressed.”

  “You idiot,” I said, sipping my coffee.

  He shrugged and stared at me, then asked, “You didn’t really sleep with that asshole, did you?”

  I shrugged. “What’s it to you?”

  “You’re my woman, that’s what it is to me.”

  “I am not your woman,” I hissed. “And get out of here! Why are you even here?”

  “You don’t really like him, do you?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t,” I lied.

  “Good,” he replied. “He’s mean. I can tell.”

  “Stop saying shit like that! And get out!”

  He leaned back to study me. “Seriously, you don’t really like that guy, do you?” he asked.

  “Stop asking me that!” I groaned. But even though I didn’t answer his question, the answer was, yeah, I did. A lot. I just didn’t like the idea of trusting anyone else ever again the way I had trusted Kier. I didn’t say that, though, I just said, “He’s okay, nothing special.”

  He nodded. “Don’t fuck him again.”

  “Fuck you! Get out of here!”

  “I’ll give you that one,” he said. “But only that one.”

  I thought about the flogger. If he knew that… Phew. No. He’d never know about that. It wasn’t any of his business anyway. We were divorced!

  “You shouldn’t have gotten into a fight with him,” I said. “I need this listing.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Why did you do that?” I asked. “You started it. He was being friendly to you.”

  “The guy who throws the first punch usually wins the fight,” he said. “Everyone knows that.”

  “You didn’t win the fight,” I told him.

  “The hell I didn’t,” he said. “Did you see his face?”

  I had. It was bruised and swollen. They’d gone at it hard. In an odd way, it had turned me on, their fighting over me. But still it scared me a little too.

  “He would have looked worse if those fucking cops hadn’t shown up,” he continued. “Thanks a lot for that.”

  “If I hadn’t called the cops, you two might have killed each other,” I said. “I’m a small woman! I can’t break that shit up!”

  He nodded in agreement. “Well, just so you’ll know, he’s a player.”

  Roman was a player? The idea of such a thing threw the first stone of doubt into my head. Was he? Was he playing me? I shook my head, not allowing these thoughts to torment me. “And you’re not?” I asked.

  “No, I am a cheater, I will admit that,” he said. “But never a player.”

  “Oh, shut up,” I said, not wanting to deal with him. “I have to get to work.”

  He nodded and stood. “Teagan,” he said. “Be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  And with that, he left. I stared after him, considering his words. But there was nothing I could do at that point but surrender myself to what might happen. Of course, he had killed some of the joy of it, but then again, isn’t that was ex-husbands do best?

  Over the next few months, I avoided Kier as best I could and went into the affair full throttle, loving every second of it. We played our games, we had hot, intense sex and we had fun. He prepared tasty French meals for me and I ordered pizza for him. He bought me small gifts, like the riding crop or the mask, just to spice things up even more. Sometimes we took long luxurious baths together in his gigantic soaking tub. Once we skinny dipped in my lap pool. We never went out; we always stayed in. I would have had it no other way.

  But every so often, that little seedling of doubt in the back of my head grew. This isn’t for real. It won’t last. I tried to ignore it but it was there, coming out to taunt me from time to time. I’d never experienced anything like this before and, perhaps, I had a little guilt for having so much fun.

  However, even with all this, there was still the matter of Roman’s house overshadowing everything and it had to be sold. I was there in the kitchen one morning getting it ready to show when I heard a noise behind me. I turned, expecting to see Roman, but instead saw someone I’d never laid eyes on before. It was a tall man who was vaguely familiar. Giving him a closer look as he entered the room, I realized he reminded me of Roman. He didn’t give me much time to wonder who he was, however, because he walked quickly and with purpose to me, hand extended, and said in perfectly French accented English, “I am Hubert. Roman’s cousin.”

  He pronounced it “Hugh-Bert.” I loved the French accent and smiled at him. “Oh, hello,” I said and shook his hand.

  He smiled at me and nodded slightly. “You’re Janelle, right?”

  “Janelle?” I asked, slightly taken aback.

  “Roman’s new girlfriend,” he said. “Or, shall I say, Roman’s latest fling?”

  My face burned with embarrassment. “No, actually, I’m Teagan. His real estate agent.”

  “Oh, yes, he is selling this place,” he said and waved his hand around the room. “But it is too expensive. Most people do not have the money for such extravagances.”

  I wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying as my mind was on his words, his confusion about who I was. And who was this Janelle? So, all I said was, “Yes, I suppose. We’ll see.”

  “Good luck, though,” he said. “Perhaps the right buyer will come along. But I doubt it.”

  I nodded. “Maybe,” I said. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a showing in about ten minutes.”

  “Of course,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Teagan.”

  He left and soon my potential clients showed up, a plastic surgeon and his trophy wife. I showed them around the house, pointing out its character and functionality, but they shook their heads at the end of the showing, telling me it was too much house for them but did I have another, perhaps out of the Hills? Something more family friendly? Maybe one in Beverly Hills or even Pacific Palisades? Something a little more “toned down,” whatever that meant. I told them I would certainly look into it and sent them on their way.

  I was locking up when Roman came home. He entered the kitchen where I was turning off lights and smiled at me. I didn’t smile back. I was still shaken by Hubert’s words.

  “Bonjour, belle,” he said, leaning in to plant a kiss on my cheek, then the other one. “How did the showing go?”

  “Bad,” I said and stepped away from him.

  “Well, don’t beat around the bush,” he said sarcastically.

  “Fine, I won’t,” I said. “Who the fuck is Janelle?”

  A
n eyebrow rose, then went back down instantaneously. “Janelle?”

  “Janelle,” I said.

  He sighed and then exhaled loudly. “Why do you ask me about Janelle now?”

  “Now?” I said. “When was I supposed to find out about her?”

  “Never, perhaps?”

  “Never?” I hissed. “I don’t know what kind of fool you’re playing me for, but I can assure you, I am no fool.”

  “Who is playing you for a fool?” he asked.

  “God! Roman!” I almost yelled, getting just a little infuriated. “Just tell me who she is!”

  “She was my girlfriend,” he said. “An actress or model or whatever they call themselves. That’s who she was. I no longer see her.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Who told you about Janelle? Your ex-husband, to stir trouble between us?”

  “Your cousin,” I said. “Hubert?”

  “Ah, Hubert,” he said. “Yes, he is in town and I should have known he would find a way to become a nuisance for me.”

  “So, she isn’t your girlfriend?”

  “She isn’t anymore,” he said. “And has not been for a long time.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I said.

  “Well, that is your choice, Teagan.” He stopped talking and leaned back against the cabinets and crossed his arms. “What is this really about?”

  Me not trusting you, I thought but didn’t say a word. It was about me feeling, even just for a few minutes, like the other woman, the one who was cheating with someone else’s man. I didn’t like that feeling, but it was there, letting me know this wouldn’t work out. I felt so confused, I was on the verge of panic. Everything was becoming too much for me: Roman, the house, Kier and our strange relationship. The money issues I was having. Everything was closing in on me and I was teetering on the edge.

  “Teagan?” he said softly.

  “I can’t do this,” I said and held up my hands.

  “What? Sell the house?”

  “That too,” I said. “No one is interested in this fucking house! But, no, I can’t do this, whatever this is between us.”

  “Oh,” he said.

  “I can’t do this,” I said again, really feeling that I couldn’t.