His Forbidden Submissive

by Brandi Evans

  The wicked temptress.

  “Okay, for the sake of argument, let’s say I said yes. Would this be a long-term partnership? Or simply a one-contract affair?”

  Without warning, images of them signing a different sort of contract sprang to the forefront of his mind. The kind a Dom and sub might sign before “partnering up”.

  “Initially only for this contract.” She winked. “But if we enjoy each other…who knows?”

  Enjoy each other? Hello double entendre. “Okay, Viv. I’m in.” He tossed out a double entendre of his own. “Let’s get it on.”

  “Good.” She dug into her bag again. “I already took the liberty of having my attorney draw up our contract.”

  He snorted a laugh. “You knew I’d say yes, didn’t you?”

  She pulled her shoulders back and put her breasts on display. “Well, the girls and I can be pretty persuasive.”

  “Yeah.” Especially in that dress.

  She held the contract out, facedown, but immediately pulled it back. “Oh, and speaking of getting it on, there’s one tiiiiiny stipulation to the contract.”

  Of course there was. “And that is?”

  “I want you to fuck me, Brock. Right here, right now.”

  Chapter Two

  Vivian scrutinized Brock’s expression. Jaw slack, eyes wide, forehead bunched. Oh yeah, she’d shocked him. Good. She just hoped she hadn’t shocked him too much. Because she wanted Brock Michaels, and now that she was a—mostly—free woman, she would have him.

  She’d set her plan into motion, and she wasn’t backing down now.

  She stepped so close to him the tips of her nipples brushed his chest. “So what do you say, Brock? Do you want me?”

  “No. I mean yes. I mean—shit.” He cut around her and lumbered to the nearby bay window. He kept his back to her with each step, but with so much at stake, she wasn’t about to let him get away so easily.

  Courage time.

  She followed him, slipped her arms around his waist and snuggled against his back. It was like hugging a steel beam. “I want you, Brock, so if you want me too, all you have to do is—”

  “I can’t, Viv.”

  “Can’t?”

  “You’re just upset with my brother, and you want to give him a taste of his own medicine. Not that I blame you. Eugene could use a big, heaping helping of asswipe. But you don’t really want this, Viv…”

  His voice dropped nearly two octaves, and his last sentence came out so garbled she wasn’t sure what he’d said, but it sounded like, Not the way I do.

  Doubt doused desire. Was she making a mistake? Was Anne right? Should Vivian simply be upfront with Brock, tell him she loved him and see what happens? After all, since her arrival, he had shown signs of genuine affection.

  But then those emotions had turned cold again, a little voice reminded her.

  She closed her eyes, held him tighter. She didn’t know what to do. All she knew for sure was she’d passed the point of no return. She was standing on the outskirts of The Promised Land, and she couldn’t turn back now.

  Not this time.

  In the end, she decided to speak from the heart. “I do want to hurt Eugene. I won’t lie about that. But there are other reasons I want to be with you.” She pushed to her toes and kissed him between the shoulder blades. “Reasons that don’t have a damn thing to do with that bastard or how he hurt me.”

  Without her permission—or maybe with—her hands slid down his belly and she palmed his cock through his worn jeans. His erection filled her hand and then some.

  Brock groaned, a long, deep sound that made her insides shiver. His hand covered hers where she held him and he pressed himself more fully into her.

  “Viv.” His resolve seemed to be crumbling, but she wasn’t about to get overconfident.

  She kept pushing. “I’ve wanted you since the day we met. Did you know that? You drove up on that loud-ass motorcycle, wearing a leather jacket and tattered jeans, and my insides just melted.” When he didn’t protest, didn’t push her away, she popped the button of his jeans and confident fingers wrenched open his zipper. “But I stayed faithful to Eugene, kept my feelings for you inside. But now I don’t have to. I’m all yours. Completely and one hundred percent yours.” She slipped a hand inside his jeans, wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft. “All you have to do is say yes.”

  He leaned more deeply into her palm. “I want to but, but, but…” He grunted. “God damn it, Viv, it’s fucking hard to think with your hand on my cock.”

  “Would you prefer I had another part of my body on your cock? Like maybe my mouth?”

  “Mmm, you’re playing with fire, baby.”

  “I don’t mind getting a little singed.”

  Brock spun around and pinned her against the wall. Big, strong hands shackled her arms above her head. “I don’t fuck gently, sweetheart. I don’t play games. I don’t relinquish control. And I never, never stop until I’m finished. If we do this, there will be no going back. Do you understand what that means?”

  Her heart slammed against her ribs. Oh wow, she hadn’t expected the raw power and need in his eyes. His desire terrified and inflamed her. For the past ten years, she’d only had one sexual partner and Eugene had never so much as fucked her good and hard. Forget the kind of primal response rolling off Brock. So forceful, so utterly and completely in control. So dominant.

  She’d never been more turned-on in her life.

  “Do you understand what that means?” he repeated.

  Heart racing, pussy flooding, she lifted her chin and met Brock’s aggression. Then raised it. “What I understand, sweetheart, is that you’re talking me to death when what I want is for you to fuck me.”

  His nostrils flared and he pressed his big body harder against hers. “Promise to give yourself completely to me, submissive of my every sexual whim?”

  Submissive? Hell no. She wouldn’t be submissive to a man ever again, but at the moment, she’d promise Brock all the gold in Fort Knox if he’d just take her.

  “Yes, Brock, I’ll—”

  He slammed his mouth against hers.

  Oh sweet heaven, yes.

  Viv moaned into his mouth. She fought to get her hands free, to hold Brock, to run her hands over his almost-shaved head, but he held her firm. He was in control and he wasn’t giving an inch. His dominance had her blood heating so fast she feared she’d succumb to heat stroke.

  He kissed her deeper, ground his naked length against her belly, foreshadowing the great realms of pleasure she was certain lay in her very, very near future. Arousal engorged her clit. After more than two years, she was finally—

  He whirled her around until her face kissed the wall. Steady hands landed at her nape and wrenched her zipper toward her ass, his fingertips skiing over her body as he worked. He pushed the slinky material of her dress out of the way, and her pulse skyrocketed. Her bra and panties vanished in quick succession.

  God, she was about to crawl out of her skin.

  He locked his left arm around her shoulders, in line with her collarbone. “You’re mine,” he said on a growl. “Completely and totally mine. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you never forget it.”

  Her pussy gushed in response to his near-chauvinistic words, which shocked the hell out of her. She didn’t belong to any man. Not anymore. But the idea of belonging to Brock was turning her on more than she thought possible. Or would admit. It didn’t make a damn bit of sense.

  The fingers of Brock’s free hand sliced between her pussy lips and found her throbbing clit. “Mmm, you’re fucking wet.”

  “You have no idea. I’ve wanted you for so damn long.”

  God, had she really said that out loud?

  “Then show me how much you want me.” He fingered her clit faster, swirled her juices over the distended mound.

  She rammed her head back into the wall of his shoulder. “Brock.”

  He chuckled as he slid a long finger deep into h
er core. “I wonder how many times I can work this sweet pussy into climax. I think I’m close to number one now, aren’t I?”

  “Oh most definitely.”

  “That’s what I thought, pet.”

  Pet? She was nobody’s pet but she really couldn’t muster enough energy to be truly upset, especially considering most of her blood was being shunted to the center of her body.

  He used his thumb on her clit as he continued fingering her, working her flesh faster. “I know you’re close to coming but don’t you dare until I give you permission. Got it?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Don’t come until I give you permission.”

  But she couldn’t stop her hips from bumping back and forth against his invading hand. Every move added to the friction of his handiwork, wound her tighter and tighter.

  She clawed at the powerful forearm fastened over her clavicle. “I need to come. Please. Please.”

  “Not yet. Not…yet.” He worked her faster, her legs trembling under her need for release.

  “Please, Brock. Please.”

  “Just one more second…”

  She bit down on her lip to distract herself, but the pain only heightened the sensations his hand was pulling from her core. She couldn’t rein in her release any—

  “Now, Viv. Now.”

  “God.” An orgasm ripped through her belly and radiated through all four limbs with the destructive force of an earthquake. Her legs shook. Breath slammed in and out of her chest. Her pussy quivered around his fingers, and all she could do was hang on to him for dear life, clinging tight with trembling arms.

  He kissed her neck as she came, whispered to her, but she couldn’t make out the words over the blood pounding between her ears. She could, however, imagine what he said…

  I’ve always wanted you like this, Viv.

  I’ve never stopped thinking about you.

  You’ve dominated my every thought for the past year.

  I love you.

  If only…

  She rode her climax, letting his imagined words fill her, push her higher, further. She turned her head and caught his stubbled jaw with her teeth.

  Brock took no time responding to her invitation, and eager lips covered hers. His tongue pressed slowly, but possessively, into her mouth, played lazily with hers, soft swipes that made her feel cherished, wanted.

  Needy.

  Her pleasure slowly began to ebb. Her mind whirled. How could he kiss her so calmly? Didn’t he want her as much as she wanted him? Wasn’t he about to go crazy too? Wasn’t all this playing around killing him?

  When she couldn’t stand his blissful torment any more, she broke their kiss. “I need you inside me.”

  “Hush.” He took her lips again, his incredible fingers continuing to play over her sensitive clit, to press deep into her slit. Back and forth, back and forth, keeping her primed but not pushing her toward the edge.

  It was torturous.

  She pulled back again. “Damn it, Brock, I need you inside me.”

  “I will be. Soon. But first…” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips then spun her back around to face him. “I want to taste your pussy, taste the pleasure I just gave you.”

  “Oh.” Kinda hard to argue with those words but… “As fantastic as that sounds, what I really want is for you to—”

  He pushed his index finger against her lips, the scent of her arousal so strong her eyes threatened to roll back in her head.

  “Lay down on the table, Viv. And do it now.”

  Part of her wanted to argue. The other part wanted to comply. The utter commanding confidence emanating off Brock made funny things happen to her insides, made her want to do whatever he commanded.

  Made her desperate to please him.

  Palms flat against the breakfast table, she pushed to a sitting position and then slowly lowered herself onto her back. The oak surface was cool against her skin, a striking contrast to the way Brock made her feel, to the hot hands that could make her burn.

  Brock moved around the table. “Beautiful, Viv. You are simply stunning, all laid out for me.”

  He seemed to take such pleasure in that last word. She took pleasure in it too. Her. Brock.

  Finally.

  He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead then stepped back as if to admire her. “Now open those beautiful legs for me, spread them as wide as they can go.”

  She pulled her knees toward her chest, so far back her ass rose off the table. Anticipation accelerated her heart. She’d never felt so exposed in her life.

  His gaze roamed her skin in much the same way a snake might look at a mouse—as something to devour. “Damn, you’re fucking spectacular. I’m having trouble deciding what I want to do to you first.”

  “I have a few ideas.” Like ramming your cock into me and pounding until we get so lost in each other we might never find our way back to reality.

  “I’ll bet you do but I want to savor you for a while. Maybe I’ll start here.” He tweaked her nipples simultaneously. “I’ve often wondered what the girls would look like naked.”

  “And…?”

  The left side of his lip curled up. “Compliments to your surgeon.”

  “Bastard.” She had half a mind to cover the girls up. “You know perfectly well they’re natural.”

  Chuckling, he bent close and took a pebbled peak into his mouth. His tongue bathed over her distended nipple, slowly, thoroughly. Agonizingly.

  She cradled his nearly shaved head between her palms and held him to her. The stubbled hairs scraped against her hands in much the same manner his five-o’clock shadow prickled the breast he was feasting on.

  A long moan crawled from the depths of her throat. “Brock.” She arched into him to create more contact, tugged him closer. But damn him, he kept right on teasing her. “Please. I need you.”

  “Soon.” He turned his attention to the southern regions of her body. With the tips of his fingers, he traced the delicate lines of the lily tattoo on her lower abdomen. “This is new. I like it, but then again, I’m a bit partial to ink.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” She fingered the outer edge of the intricate geometric swirl near his forearm. Tattooed bad boys had never really done anything for her until Brock, and now, every time she saw an inked man she got a little wet between the thighs.

  He kissed her tat, his mouth so close to her core her entire body went rigid. A few inches lower and she’d be in heaven.

  “When did you get it?”

  “A couple of weeks after you left. I wanted a permanent reminder I’d been given a second chance at life.” And getting a tattoo reminded me of the man who helped me live through the worst experience of my life. But that was too emotional a statement for this moment.

  “I like it. I like this too.” His hand moved lower and he eased her folds apart, even as he still stood there fully clothed. The handsome bastard.

  He dipped the pad of his thumb into her juices before sliding it forward to stroke her clit. Every millimeter of her pussy was super-sensitive from the orgasm he’d already stolen from her, so each swipe across the tender bud was almost torturous.

  He kissed the inside of her thigh, drew sloppy circles over her skin. She spread her legs wider for him, but the tease stayed clear of the place she really wanted him to venture.

  “What the hell are you waiting for, Brock? An invitation? If so, consider yourself invited.”

  He chuckled—but didn’t answer. Instead he ran his thumb between her folds. “You’re fucking sexy when you beg.”

  His words made her smile. Of course he liked hearing that. He was such a guy. Maybe if she begged some more, got a little dirtier, he’d finally get the message and flippin’ take her already. “Please, Brock. Please. Lick my pussy. Make me come. Please.”

  He grinned like a proud papa. “With pleasure, my love.” And finally—finally!—he dropped to his knees and hunkered down as if he were ready to stay a while. Knowledgeable fingertips
peeled her lips apart. The second the cool air hit her clit, electricity shot straight to her core. Her pussy gushed with even more warmth, and every muscle in her body tightened.

  She arched against the table, waiting, waiting.

  Waiting…

  Brock licked from her perineum to her clit, a long, languorous move that had her squirming like a worm on hot pavement. Pre-pleasure hummed in her belly. Her skin goose-fleshed. Once again, Brock had her teetering on the edge of ecstasy with very little effort. Was she that easy or was he that good?

  Or both?

  Leisurely, agonizingly, Brock finally settled in to give her clit a little more attention. He sucked her swollen bud into his mouth, jiggled it against the back of his teeth.

  “God.” Her head slammed backward, whacked against the table, but she didn’t care, couldn’t care. Not with Brock’s wonderful mouth where it was, doing what it was doing.

  He pulled back but only long enough to change the focus of his attention. His tongue jammed into her sex, working her hard, pushing her until she could hardly breathe.

  She clawed at the table, thrust her hips to meet his torment, and when he shifted his attention back to her clit, he slipped a finger or two inside her. He skimmed the top edge of her channel until he found the little bundle of nerves deep inside her.

  “Brock…” She wrapped her hands around his head, pulled him harder against her pussy, arched mercilessly into him. “God. Yes, yes. Yeeeeees!”

  Ecstasy exploded in her belly. She wrapped her legs around him and pressed him even harder against her sex. And Brock—bless him—kept right on eating her, drawing pleasure from her as if he’d been created to make women scream his name, to make her scream his name.

  Or maybe he always smolders this hot.

  She immediately silenced the nagging voice.

  “Brock, Brock, Brock, Brock…” She mumbled his name over and over and over as she fluttered in the realm between reality and ecstasy. “Brock.”

  “Damn that was incredible,” he said against her heat.