Not Your Damn Dom (Denial Book 2)

by Amy Valenti

“I want you to fuck my ass, Sir. Until I scream. Right now.”

  He growled approvingly and slammed the plug back into me, making me cry out, before giving my ass another spank. “Up on your hands and knees. Face the headboard.”

  Finally! I got into position, my pussy clenching with anticipation. Over my shoulder, I watched my Dom rolling on a condom, then reaching for the lubricant.

  “Want me to help you with that, Sir?”

  He glanced up with an evil half-smile. “I would take you up on that, but since you’re so eager to watch me…”

  With lube-coated fingers, he stroked himself from the base to the tip, playing with his hard cock while I watched, mesmerised.

  “Holy fuck, you’re hot, Sir.”

  He advanced on me, still holding his hard-on, and I sent up a mental prayer that this time he’d give me the climax I urgently needed.

  “Whose ass is this, pretty painslut?” He slapped it so hard he shocked the breath from my lungs.

  “Yours, Sir.”

  He slapped the other cheek, equally hard. The sting fizzed all the way to my aching pussy and I lowered myself onto my elbows, presenting my ass to him.

  “Please take me.”

  Spencer withdrew the plug so slowly I was convinced he’d start teasing me with it again at any second. Just as I’d begun to despair, it came all the way out and Spencer joined me on the bed.

  “Take this for me, pretty girl.”

  His cock pressed against my hole, pushed in a little way. I tried to relax, to let him in, but he was wider than the plug and the stretch was overwhelming. “God, I don’t know if I can­—”

  “You can,” he said on the edge of a growl, pushing deeper, then withdrawing almost completely, repeating the process to take me more each time. “Let me in.”

  I concentrated on breathing as calmly as I could, willing my lust-infused body to accommodate him. Finally his hips pressed against me, his cock buried completely within my ass.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, still not sure how it had happened.

  Spencer began to pull back and the pleasure that coursed through me was divine. “Oh, Sir…”

  “I know, pretty girl.” He grabbed me by the hair, pulling me up so I was practically seated on his thighs, and tugged on the ‘collar’ around my throat. “Now you’re all mine.”

  Less than a minute later, with his cock pounding into me hard and fast and oh, so deep, I was desperate to come. I promised Spencer everything I had, everything he wanted, anything if he’d just let me have the orgasm I’d been dying for since we’d gotten home. He ground his fingers against my clit, thrust them inside me and ordered, “Give me everything, pretty girl. I want it all.”

  My world blanked out after that; nothing existed but the pleasure of his claiming and residual pain from the places he’d spanked and clamped and caned. His strong arms around me tightened as I clutched the bedcovers and cried out my relief, shuddering with the spasms of my climaxes—one, two, ten, a million?

  When I could think clearly again, I was nestled in Spencer’s arms, dazed and used and deliriously happy. Beside me, Spencer was gazing at my face, watching me come down from the emotional and physical high.

  “I love you, Sir.”

  He stroked back my hair, smiling. “Never get tired of hearing that.”

  “You’ll never stop hearing it,” I told him, his unspoken declaration of love reaching me loud and clear.

  * * * *

  TWO WEEKS LATER

  Spencer

  I was so unprepared for this fucking premiere, it wasn’t even funny. It was one thing if you just had an invitation, though getting down the red carpet had taken a little too long last time for my taste.

  But being the date of the star of the movie? That was something else.

  The paparazzi were out in force, practically crushing each other on the other side of the barriers to get the attention of Alex and her co-stars. Though she appeared outwardly serene, as if she’d been at the centre of a media whirlwind her whole life, I knew better. The slight tension in her arm, looped through mine, was enough to tip me off.

  “Ms. Ashford! Alexandra!” Pushy reporters from all kinds of media were yelling her name, but Alex was looking for fans waiting for autographs, that much was clear. She fielded questions from print reporters and bloggers while signing copies of the book the movie was based on for her adoring public. It was when she got to the TV reporters that I really started to tense up. I didn’t want to be filmed or talk to these vultures, but for Alex, I’d do anything.

  She let go of my arm to stand with someone from Entertainment First, smiling and giving a little twirl to show off her spectacular red rockabilly dress when the reporter asked it of her. I hated that shit. When was the last time a male actor was asked to twirl for the cameras? They were just objectifying her, distilling who she was down into soundbites and video clips.

  Alex answered a couple of questions before her co-star, James Overman, swept in to videobomb her interview. She laughed and pushed him gently while he clowned around.

  Then the dreaded question. “There have been rumours that the two of you had chemistry off-screen as well as on. How accurate is that?”

  James and Alex looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Well, for one thing, James’ fiancée is just down the carpet there, and this here is my guy, Spencer.”

  I tried not to look as uncomfortable as I felt when the camera panned over to me. “Ahh, this is the personal trainer who got you into shape for the role of Marina, right?”

  “And my stunt double.” James clapped me on the shoulder, diverting attention back from me to him. Or so I thought.

  “How do you feel about your girlfriend’s rise to superstardom?” The reporter held out the mic for my comment.

  I looked across at my submissive and gave her a genuine smile. I didn’t need to fake my love for her. “She worked hard in this role and she deserves every bit of her success.”

  “Aww.” Alex snuggled against my side again.

  “You’re a cute couple. Will there be wedding bells in your future?”

  Goddamn fucking journalists! No matter what we said, they’d put a spin on it.

  “We’ve only known each other a few months, so let’s not rush into anything yet,” Alex said with a sidelong glance up at me.

  The guy in charge of making sure the traffic down the red carpet actually kept moving signalled to the interviewer, who beamed and spoke to the camera. “That’s all we’ve got time for, but you can see Walk on Glass in movie theatres nationwide from next Friday. Thanks for your time, guys.”

  Alex smiled and waved. James got in closer to the camera and said, “Go see the movie!”

  I just waited to move on, watching Alex to keep myself calm.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she murmured under her breath. “I won’t make you come to any more of these things if you don’t want to.”

  Before I could reply, a new reporter grabbed her attention and she was distracted again.

  When finally we reached the entrance to the venue, I went straight inside, leaving Alex to pose with her co-stars for more pictures. Safe from the cameras’ flashes and reporters’ yells, I finally relaxed.

  “You okay, bud?” Callum’s voice was amused.

  “Fuckin’ reporters,” I murmured under my breath.

  “Better get used to it. Your best friend and your girl are both big shots now.” The Ridley Scott movie he’d been working on had come out a couple of months ago. Callum was now a household name, with an unwanted paparazzi escort practically everywhere he went.

  “Best friend?” I frowned at him. “Are you a teenage girl?”

  Kat came up behind him. “Trust me, he’s not a girl.”

  The jewelled silver choker around her neck glinted as she grinned up at her Dom. Her little black dress had silver threads woven through it, and she looked like she belonged at premieres, at Callum’s side.

  “I don’t want to know anything about how
you discovered that.”

  “We’re gonna go sit down. Just wanted to see if you survived the red carpet without laying out any reporters. Wish Alex good luck for us?” Callum squeezed my shoulder, then retreated, taking his submissive with him.

  Alex and her co-stars took another ten minutes to get inside, all laughing and looking slightly stunned at the attention. Seeing me, my submissive came immediately back to my side, breathless and beautiful. “Wow. That was a riot.”

  I kissed her softly. “Come on. Let’s go watch your movie.”

  We were the last inside a packed theatre, and had VIP seats at the front. Almost as soon as we were seated, the lights dimmed and the director, Roland Ellison, announced the movie. Soon we were immersed in the project we’d worked on for months before we’d even started filming. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Alex had said she’d seen bits of it already, but not the completed cut. Similarly, I’d seen the completed fight sequences and stunts, but nothing else.

  Alex had done my choreography proud, and so had her stunt double, Sandy. The movie was well-paced and Alex made everything relatable and emotionally engaging. Her performance was nothing short of stunning—though I was probably biased.

  When the credits rolled, the audience gave an enthusiastic standing ovation. Whistles, cheers and thunderous applause filled the air. Even a lot of the critics in the gallery were on their feet.

  “You’re fucking amazing, Alexandra Ashford,” I murmured to her.

  She gave me a dazzling smile and kissed me quickly before joining her co-stars and the head crew members in bowing her thanks to the audience.

  Alex was teary-eyed as we were ushered through the theatre to the after-screening party. “I can’t believe they liked it as much as they did. That was just incredible. I don’t even feel real right now.”

  “I can think of a few ways to convince you later,” I said in her ear. I gave a light tug on the choker she was wearing before stepping back to wait with the other plus-ones.

  Before Alex got caught up in conversation, she gave me a wink that promised she’d be at her most willing to please later on tonight.

  I might hate this publicity shit, but being her Dom? That was something I wouldn’t give up for the world.

  Author’s Note

  Thanks so much for checking out Spencer’s story! If you’ve enjoyed Not Your Damn Dom, it would make me so happy if you’d leave me a review over at the Amazon page. Reviews make my day and persuade other readers to take a chance on an author they’ve never tried before, which can really make a difference to indie authors like me.

  You can keep up to date with my latest projects and read exclusive sneak peeks by joining my mailing list—click here! Your contact details will be kept completely confidential, and in December my mailing list subscribers will be getting early access to a couple of freebies as 2014 Christmas presents: a short story about Kat and Callum from Not Your Damn Submissive, and one about Marc and Nell from Hot, Rich and Dominant.

  Thank you again for reading—it means so much to me.

  Love and hugs,

  Amy

  Also by Amy Valenti

  Hot, Rich and Dominant

  Hot, Rich and Dominant 2—Learning Curve

  Hot, Rich and Dominant 3—Collars and Dollars

  Hot, Rich and Dominant 4—Making a Scene

  Hot, Rich and Dominant 5—No More Secrets

  Hot, Rich and Dominant 6—Risk and Reward

  Hot, Rich and Dominant—the Complete Collection

  Claiming His Tease (Club Rack and Ruin #1)

  Model Submissive (Club Rack and Ruin #2)

  Complex Triggers (Club Rack and Ruin #3)

  Not Your Damn Submissive (Denial #1)

  Not Your Damn Dom (Denial #2)

  Always the Quiet Ones

  Battle of Thrills

  Cornered

  Die for Him

  Dominance and Deception

  Of Sawdust and Seduction

  Switching Off

  About the Author

  Amy Valenti attained ‘crazy cat lady’ status at four years old, but took a little longer to get to the ‘published author’ stage, which was her other goal in life. Now in her late twenties, she tries to minimise the number of cats she puts into her erotic romance stories, but more than one has slipped into a character’s home while her back’s been turned. After all, the ultimate test of a man’s worth is what his new partner’s pets think of him…

  Cats aside, Amy enjoys writing about intelligent female characters who know themselves and their desires. She’s been fascinated by sex, relationship and power-play dynamics for many years, and experiments with different sub-genres under the overarching category of BDSM, concentrating on Domination and submission romance in particular.

  She also writes vanilla lesbian erotica (without the romance!) under the pseudonym Sidonie Spice.

  About the Stories

  Just what is it about bondage, pain-play and barked commands that make a submissive fall to her knees? Amy Valenti is captivated by the Dominance and submission dynamic, and her books mainly feature growly, Dominant men with feisty yet submissive women. Occasionally she likes to write about hot Dom-on-Domme action and ménage involving two Dominant partners with one lucky female sub.

  Safe, sane and consensual BDSM is important to her, and she tries to balance out the intense scenes in her books with some tender, loving aftercare.

  Contact

  Want to get in touch? Email Amy at amy@amyvalenti.com, or check out her Facebook or Twitter pages. You can also find her at AmyValenti.com.

  Keep up with the latest from Amy Valenti! Join her mailing list for exclusive previews and extra content—just click here! Your contact details will be kept completely confidential.