Turkish Delights 0.50 - 4.00 Series Bundle

by Liz Crowe

  “Oh, we’re gonna thank her for more than that I assure you, Turk.” He stepped forward and jerked her up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She screeched and clawed at his back.

  “Put me down, you fucking pig! I’m done. You had your fun. You got off, now let me go!” She pounded on him, but he barely sensed it. Her heels were dangerously near his eyes though, so he yanked them off her feet and tossed them over into the corner before he flung her unceremoniously onto the large bed, pinning her flailing arms and legs with his large body. She hissed and spit like a cat having a temper tantrum. “Get the fuck off me, God damn it! I’m done! I will not be your slave! Let…me…go….” The last came with a wad of spit that hit his cheek and dropped onto the silky duvet.

  He calmly pulled the rope restraints from the upper corners of the bed and tied her wrists, then secured her ankles. He had heard about this sort of reaction, but never seen it, fighting her urge to submit, as her natural need for control asserted itself. But his need dominated. He’d flexed it a lot more times than she had. He’d win this. And he still believed it would be worth the fight. He wiped his face then tied a blindfold over her eyes. She stopped squirming and cursing, but her chest heaved in anger and he saw tears slip from beneath the blindfold.

  “Shh….” He ran a careful hand down her face. “Shh…my little wildcat…it’s okay.”

  “Fuck you. Ahhh!! Get me out of here! Help!” She arched up and twisted in the restraints. Her voice cracked with emotion. He stayed calm, letting it soothe her as he knew it would.

  “You are okay. Stop twisting around in the ropes though. You’ll get burned.”

  “I am not okay and you are so dead once I tell....”

  He chuckled and pressed his lips to hers. She kept them thin and closed against him. He persisted, licking and caressing, using his hands to cradle her face, stroke her neck. Finally, she calmed and parted her lips just enough….

  “Fucking hell!” He jumped up, hand over his mouth, tasting blood where she’d bitten him.

  “Let me go. I mean it.”

  He gazed at her, restrained, immobile, breasts heaving in anger at him. He realized he could untie her, let her walk, and they’d continue to play these annoying games of cat and mouse. He wanted more. He needed her and she him. Pure and simple. But she had to come to this on her own, in his space, at his bidding, or it would never work. The scent of her lust made him wince and resist the urge to let her go and fuck her again and again. Yeah, this one will be worth it.

  “You need a little time to yourself, I think. Remember, nobody likes a temper tantrum.” Just before he put noise-cancelling headphones over her ears, he brushed a lock of hair off her face and behind her ear. “Call my name, Lale. But only when you really and truly need me to come to you. I promise on all I hold sacred you are safe here. You are safe now.” Then he brushed her cheek with his lips and walked out, leaving the door open just in case.

  ***

  Lale could not catch her breath. Her whole body blazed with anger, lust, need, and a strange sense of rightness that warred in her psyche. Her wrists and ankles were chafed from fighting the ropes. Her throat ached from screaming and yelling. And her pussy had never, ever felt so good. The man had ripped an orgasm from her very soul—had been about to with his fingers and tongue. But that cock—dear God, that incredible cock. When she’d had it in her hand, in her mouth earlier, it had been amazing—as beautiful and thick as she had ever seen or experienced. She sighed. The sensory deprivation position he’d put her in was not so bad really, once she got used to it. When she let it envelop her, the pure quiet was like a balm to her rattled brain. She screeched out a weak help and let me go so he’d think she still didn’t like it, as her mind drifted back to her hotel room earlier that night.

  A bright, visceral fury had gripped her when she’d stomped down the hall from the elevator after their date. She had no name for it. Blaming the Greek’s bossy, bullshit attitude, she’d cursed, stomped around, and broke a really nice vase when she’d flung it against the wall. She stared at the mess of fresh flowers, water, and hopefully glass not crystal darkening the carpet, sobbed and dropped into a leather chair, unsure why the tears wouldn’t stop. Her entire being had yearned for the huge, gorgeous man she’d been such a bitch to earlier. But her brain would not let her engage with him. There was no way in hell she’d be “dominated,” no matter how he prettied it up with words about trust and caring.

  She’d leaned back, tears drying on her face and stared at the ceiling. When her phone had buzzed with a text, she’d tensed. Elle, checking in on her date, no doubt. How in God’s name could she explain she’d failed at the supposedly magical dating service? This brought on a fresh bout of tears, but Lale stood and slammed back the rest of the wine she’d started earlier.

  The man infuriated her. How had he known exactly what she wanted to eat and drink? The combination of his light teasing, frank discussions about his lifestyle and final rejection all came so fast, she still processed it. She’d be damned if she’d let him reject her outright. She got to do the rejecting. He’d given her his address for a reason, and she intended to find out what it was. She searched around for the card he’d given her. Within minutes she sat in a taxi, pointed toward the Las Vegas suburbs.

  And then she’d seen him in shorts and no shirt, glowing with sweat and glowering at her from the end of the hallway. Like a bronzed god, with his football player shoulders, highly defined six-pack, narrow waist, all dusted with dark hair…dear Lord, no man should look that good shirtless. Lale twisted her wrists again, needing something to remind her she still existed here in this room, far away from everyone and everything she cared about. Shifting her hips, she smiled at the pleasant soreness between her legs.

  Emre’s voice suddenly invaded her consciousness.

  No better than a whore.

  Lale’s breath caught in her throat. Well, she’d certainly confirmed that tonight—following the Greek god home like a horny house cat. And now, he’d left her tied up on this stupid bed like…like a slave. A sob escaped her.

  Something about him soothed and calmed her. Gave her…just what she needed. He filled an emptiness she’d carried around for years. Filled in a way that was good and right and safe. Did she deserve it?

  No better than a whore.

  Lale sighed. Right. Way to go. You spit on him, you stupid cow. Your damn temper has likely ruined this for you. Jesus! You bit his tongue. What man will put up with that? Tears flowed down her cheeks, dampening the silky cover beneath her head. How do I manage to fuck everything up every time? Would he really be what he said, do what he said, if she submitted?

  “Andreas?” She hated the sound of her weak voice. She swallowed and tried again. “Andreas? I…I need you. Please?”

  Within seconds he had her untied, unblindfolded, and gathered in his arms. She held on to him for dear life as the sobs wracked her body. He smelled of soap, of the sea she remembered from her home, of peace. The thought of not having this for herself every day for the rest of her life made her nearly frantic. But she’d blown it, acted like a child. Why would he want her now? She had no one to blame but herself.

  He stroked her hair and kissed her wet cheeks. Lale barely registered his words as she approached hysteria. “You are perfectly safe here. I will never let anything harm you, do you understand? Let me…let me take care of you.” His raspy voice made her look up into his deep green gaze. “You won’t be sorry Lale. I promise.”

  She nodded ever so slightly and pressed her face into his neck. For a woman who had done nothing but fight with the men in her life, this exquisite release of control blew through her like a breath of fresh spring after a rainstorm—glorious and full of promise.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” his whispers continued. “I wanted you last night. I think I’ve wanted you forever.” She shivered again—terrified, horny, and weepy. And happier than she’d been in years.

  “Please,” sh
e mumbled. “I want…I don’t know….” She bit her lip unable to say the right words.

  “Shhh…agapi mou…my love…shhh.” He laid her back on the bed and covered her mouth with his. She sighed. His lips and tongue were already so familiar, as if she’d been kissing him forever. She threaded her hands in his long black hair, moaning as the kiss deepened, bringing the promise of more. But he broke away and gazed into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s my job to make sure you aren’t hurt.” He brought her rope-burned wrist to his lips.

  “No.” She brought his head down to her shoulder. “I needed it. But the minute I got scared, you were here. Will you always do that for me?” She bit her lip. Asking for help made her a nervous wreck. She’d never been able to do it, not even with Tarkan, although he’d been one of the few men she didn’t butt heads with constantly.

  Andreas lifted his face from her neck. His gaze was intense, almost angry. She gulped. “Remember, Lale? What I said about trust?” She nodded. His eyes narrowed. “Can you trust me? You have to, or this won’t work. I know it will be hard, letting go, letting me take control. But I want to so badly, I…oh, hell….” He leaned in and kissed her, possessed her, said more with his lips and tongue and hands than any words. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him on top of her. He propped up on his hands and stared into her soul.

  “Evet,” she said simply. “I will try. I mean, I can be a bitch so it might not be worth your time. But I promise not to bite anymore, well, unless you want me to.”

  The beautiful Greek looming over her raised an eyebrow.

  “I don’t want you to stop being you, my love.” He planted small, fluttery kisses on her cheeks, down her neck. She arched up as her body started to zing with anticipation. “If anything, I want you to stay just as you are. But you must trust me with all of you. And let me have control of you, in here, when we are alone. It’s more than just fun. It’s a serious lifestyle choice.”

  Lale groaned. She hooked both legs around his waist and pressed into his cock swelling against her sore lower lips. But she wanted it. No, she needed it again, tonight. “Okay, Greek. I promise I’ll try. For you.” She put her hands back over her head. “Tie me back up.” She gave him her naughtiest smile. “But don’t get cocky. If I don’t like it, my safeword is Troy.”

  “Huh, clever girl. I think that’s my…third favorite thing about you.” He wrapped the cotton ropes around her wrists again, put the blindfold back over her eyes, and crawled down her body. Strong hands raised her hips, unzipped and slid her skirt down and off. He flicked the metal ball in her clit, sucked it into his mouth, then released and started over. Her hips bucked up into his face. The ropes creaked in protest. He licked further down, dipping into her wet folds, using a hand to tug on the metal, bringing a sharp edge of pain, making her raise her hips higher.

  “God, Andreas…oh…yes!” She moaned as he slid two fingers inside her, pushed up high, triangulating her G-spot. He pressed against it as his lips sucked and elongated the fleshy nerve bundle she’d pierced with a solid gold ball. The orgasm smacked into her. She wrapped her legs around his impossibly broad shoulders, moving her hips against him. He groaned into her flesh as she pulsed, coating his mouth and hand with fluid. The ropes hurt, but she loved it. It has been so long since she’d come this hard…actually she never had. Her body sang out, the climax continued, pleasure rolling through her and over her like warm waves of the Mediterranean Sea.

  Suddenly he disappeared. She shivered and writhed, whining at his absence. The sounds of a condom being opened and a deep sigh from the man between her legs made Lale heat up with expectation. “Lie still. Let me look at you.” She swallowed hard. He lunged up to meet her lips. She tasted herself and the glorious essence of her Greek. His cock throbbed against her. She angled her hips, needing him inside her. “This is only the beginning, omorfia mou…psihi mou…my lovely…my heart,” he mumbled against her lips. “You know that, right?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was rough with emotion. She wanted nothing more than to be there, stay there with him, forever. It might be crazy, but something about him was exactly what she’d been seeking, without even realizing it.

  He eased into her, his thickness spreading her, slowly this time, inch by delicious inch. He released a breath, just as slowly and whispered in her ear, “You are my tulip princess, my wildcat. Mine….”

  Lale yanked against her bonds as he captured her nipple, sucked hard, and bit down, triggering another gush of fluid from her body. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, her walls stretched, accommodating him, the pain mixed with poignant pleasure. He drew back, then entered her again, firmer this time. She could smell him, sweat and man and lust. Her man. Hers. It made her rock her hips harder. The little ball pressed against her clit with every thrust.

  “Fuck…” he muttered. “I need to see you.” The blindfold disappeared. The gaze that met hers held emotion that startled her at first. He rocked in and out of her, faster, thrusting high, taking her. She closed her eyes and groaned.

  “Look at me, Lale. Open your eyes.” The harsh commanding tone didn’t scare her, didn’t even anger her. It made her happy. She let her own eyes reflect her true heart, tired of pretending and searching and never finding what she wanted. Now, she’d found him.

  “Please, Andreas, please, oh, God!” His body tensed and he gave one last deep thrust. His length and girth took her, filled her as she tilted her hips to allow him even more penetration. With one motion, he jerked her loose from her bonds so she could wrap her entire body around him. Their mouths collided and tears coated her face again. He broke away and called her name, coming so hard he shuddered inside her body. She bit his shoulder when the orgasm captured her, picked her up and spun her around, and left her there, in the amazing man’s arms.

  As their breathing calmed, he propped himself up and gazed at her without speaking. His silence made her nervous. Had she made a mistake giving herself like this? A familiar tension stole over her. He pulled out of her body, removed the condom, and tossed it into the nearby bin.

  When he laid back and gathered her close, murmuring Greek words of love in her ear, she released her last reservations. She let him cradle her, kiss her forehead, nose, cheek, and lips. “Only the beginning, my love, my precious tulip. I promise….” A slow sleepiness crept into his voice. A languorous sensation stole over her. She’d never actually slept with any man. Never sustained any relationship beyond a quick fuck. Never experienced a fulfillment as she did at that moment, in the arms of her Greek. She smiled and started to drift off to images of her family’s faces when she introduced Andreas to them.

  He sighed, pressed his lips to her hair. “Se latrevo…I adore you….” She snuggled into his side, draping her leg over his hips.

  “You might regret it, but I’m afraid you are stuck with me now. Go ahead and try to get rid of me, Greek.” She leaned up and bit his dark nipple. “I’ve been told I can be difficult.”

  “Mmmm…I can see that.” He tightened his grip.

  “But I am no slave, do you understand?” She ran a hand across his sculpted abs, lacing her fingers in the trail of hair between his navel and that fantastic cock.

  He held her even closer. “I know. But I want to give you something you need, some structure. I will provide that, along with my heart. If you’ll have it.” Lale’s chest tightened. She propped herself on an elbow and traced his full lips with her fingertip. “Well?”

  “I’ll have it. In exchange for mine.” He entwined his large hand with hers. “Seni Seviyorum, my Greek.” Lale couldn’t believe she’d said it but had never felt more certain about anything in her young life.

  He smiled and his eyes twinkled. “S'agapo, my Turkish tulip, my tulip princess. S'agapo.”

  Flower Passage

  This story is one of things once beautiful, thought ruined, then revived thanks to the love of many.

  Glossary:

  Mas Allah (Mosh Ah-lah): My God />
  Erkek Arkadas (Air-kek Ark-a-dosh): Boyfriend

  Anne (Ah-nay): Mother

  Baba: Father

  Buyuk Anne (Boo-yook Ah-nay): Grandmother

  Evet : yes

  Seni Seviyorum: I love you

  Prologue

  The light. It never, ever, went out. Tarkan lived with its yellow, sickly fluorescence, night and day, day and night. As if he even knew if it were night or day, if he were on Earth or Mars, gone to heaven or drowning in the yawning depths of hell, or somewhere in between. Hell seemed the most likely.

  He rolled over on the thin blanket that he’d called home for however long he’d inhabited this particular corner of Hades and blinked, ran a hand over his face. Coped with the familiar combination of simultaneously needing to piss and wanting a drink of water for the millionth time. Of wanting a toothbrush, a real cup of coffee, and the feel of the sun on his skin so badly he could cry, if he had anything left in him to shed tears with. But instead of seeming old, the sick familiarity galvanized him in some perverse way. He wanted to live. So he took a breath and prepared to face yet another day of achieving exactly that.

  “Beloved?”

  The soft voice made him smile. His body reacted, in a wholly Pavlovian fashion, hardening, skin pebbling, brain fuzzing, as he went into fight or fuck mode. He had fought for his life for a long, long time. And in doing so, had found an ally in this sick hole he’d inhabited for Allah knew how long.

  “Beloved. I am here. I…have what you asked for.”

  Her softly accented Turkish was followed by a loud yell in the rough Kurdish cadence Tarkan had associated with his captors for so long. He’d been utterly alone for what he calculated had been nearly eighteen months, until the moment she had revealed herself as a “she” and had shyly handed him a bucket of lukewarm, rancid water and a thin cloth to finally cleanse himself with. His training taught him not to trust her. He knew damn well she’d been planted to seduce and then turn him. But at that point he’d been so broken, so lost and alone and desperate, he didn’t care anymore.