What a rush, seeing Brandt’s take-charge side. In the last week she’d been thinking a lot about the kind of lover he’d be. And thank God sugarcoating his demands wasn’t his style.She barely got a peek at his cock before he commanded, “Hands on my thighs.” He grasped the base of his dick in his right hand and rubbed his cockhead across her lips. “Open.”Jessie let her eyes drift shut in anticipation of tasting him, of pleasing him, of pleasing herself by admitting how much she wanted this, wanted him.His gentleness during the slow glide across her lips, over her teeth and across her tongue, surprised her. As did the loving way he framed her face in his hands, sweeping his thumbs over her hollowed cheeks up to her temple. “Beautiful.”The musky, salty, utterly masculine flavor filled her mouth and zoomed straight to her core.His gentleness vanished without warning. He held her head tightly, angled her neck and rammed in fully so the base of his cock rested on her bottom teeth.She op
She hissed, “Yes.”In this position, every time he thrust, the flannel sheet abraded her nipples. The simple eroticism of Brandt’s sure and steady movements as his cock tunneled in and out of her pussy forced a whimpering sigh from her lungs.“So tight. God that’s good. Not gonna last.”She closed her eyes, allowing the sensations to wash over her, sensations exclusive to sex; the rhythmic squeak of the bed, harsh male breathing on her back, rough-skinned hands gripping her hips, the heat, wetness, the sounds of their body parts meeting, the friction of the sheets on her knees, elbows and nipples.But it was more than that. And she couldn’t find the right words to explain it because the push and pull lulled her to a floaty plane where need and satisfaction were in perfect balance.He plunged faster, muttering, jarring Jessie from her fog of pleasure. As soon as she felt his cock jerking against her inner walls, she bore down on his shaft, earning a holy fuck and then another groan.Fo
A beautiful woman was getting ready to visit her late husband's grave for the very last time. She had decided to move on with her life after a couple of years, despite her initial vow not to fall in love with anyone else after his death. She had loved him with the whole of her heart and soul, and she had clearly decided that even in death, she won't stop loving him.He’d given her everything she could have ever wanted. His love. His respect. Everything but the one thing she needed most, and it was something she could have never asked him for. She’d loved him too much to ever demand of him something he couldn’t give her.She shook away the heavy veil of sadness, determined to get through the day and on with her life. Her new life.She picked up the flowers, her favorite, and brought them to her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled. They were what he always gave her. Every birthday. Every anniversary. Or any time just because. Today she’d place them on his grave and walk away. This ti
She took a deep breath and forged ahead. “I’ve found a place that specializes in . . . dominance. I need to know if it’s what I’m missing. If it’s always been what I’m missing. Maybe I’ll find the answer. Maybe I won’t. But I have to try. I have to know. And I couldn’t go without telling you. Without explaining that I never lacked for anything when we were married. I never doubted even for a moment that you loved me, and you would have given me the moon if I asked. But this . . . This I couldn’t ask you for. And right now I need something to fill the void. There’s a hole in my soul, Clement. One that I may never fill again. But right now I’d take even a bandage. Temporary solace, if you will. I just wanted you to know. I’ll be okay. I’m not going into a dangerous situation. I’ve made certain that I’ll be safe. And as painful as it is for me to say this, I’m finally letting you go. I’ve held on to you for too long now. I can’t do it anymore. Life is happening around me. Life goes on. T
“I’m not going blindly,” Sandra said gently. “It’s something I’ve given a lot of thought to. I’ve researched endlessly, which was what brought me to The House. I’ve toured the premises. I’ve been there during its busiest times. I know what to expect. And Damon has assured me that, especially for my first visit, I will be very carefully monitored.” They were interrupted when the waiter brought their entrées, but food was the last thing on the women’s minds now. Their plates sat in front of them untouched as their conversation continued. “I just wanted to know what it was like for you and Ken,” Sandra said softly. Again, pain glittered in Karla’s green eyes. She pushed her dark hair behind her ear in an effort to disguise her hesitation, but Sandra didn’t miss it and she wondered what the hell was going on with her friend. She seemed . . . unhappy. And maybe it had been there for a while now, but Sandra had been so self-absorbed that she hadn’t paid attention to the people around her.
Derrick sighed again and got out, walking to the entrance of The House. He wasn’t even interested in any action tonight, but he was restless and on edge. Sandra had occupied his thoughts the entire day. Ever since he’d taken her to the cemetery and had seen the difference in her. He didn’t know what to make of the abrupt change. She’d walked out of her house in jeans and a T-shirt, looking so young and beautiful that it still made his chest ache to remember the image of her. And then she’d asked to be left alone at the grave and she’d stayed there, her lips moving as she’d spoken to Clement for a long while. When she’d returned, there was a marked difference in her demeanor. And then that spiel about not needing him. Apologizing to him, for fuck’s sake. Apologizing for being a goddamn burden. For taking up too much of his life and time. Hell, she didn’t even realize she was his life. Or at least he hoped she would be. He checked in with the man working the door and wandered through
Though they’d spent plenty of time together over the last years, it had always been in a neutral location. Or her own home, the one she’d shared with Clement. The last time she’d been in his house was when Clement was still alive, and the couple had been frequent visitors back then. He curled his arm around Sandra’s waist as he ushered her through the foyer and into the living room. She stiffened but made no move to distance herself from him. She was too busy looking like she was waiting for the anvil to drop from the sky on her head. When they entered the living room, he loosened his hold and took a step away, dragging a hand raggedly through his hair. Then he turned, not sure how exactly to pose the questions burning his tongue. He only knew one way. Blunt. “What on earth were you doing in The House tonight, Sandra?” he demanded. She flinched at the fury in his tone and her eyes became shadowed. “You have no idea what you’re getting into by being there,” he continued. “No idea a
What flabbergasted her more was that Derrick was everything she’d said she wanted, if she was to believe his impassioned statement. Dominant. He liked submissive women. And he wanted to introduce her to the lifestyle. He wanted to possess—to own—her. “I don’t know what to say,” she said honestly. “I never imagined. I didn’t realize . . .” “No, I suppose you didn’t,” Derrick murmured. “It’s not something I could just come out and say. But Sandra, you’ve made the first move. Now it’s my turn to make all the others. You’ve laid out what you want. What you need. What you desire. And I’m going to be the man who gives you those things.” She stared back at him, still utterly overwhelmed by the day, the moment, this. How had so much changed so quickly? Then she shook her head in automatic denial even though a part of her, the part that had gone for so long unfulfilled, screamed at her that this was it. This was what she’d been looking for. But him? No, they were just friends. He had been h