BDSM Romance Collection Page 10

  I polished silver and vacuumed the great room with a vibrator up both holes. When I bent to vacuumed under the couch, the dildo hit my g-spot just right, and I came as the Hoover swallowed dust bunnies. That earned me a wonderful spanking.

  And so it went, and then the session grew … tender. Butch offered to bathe me one day. The spontaneous proposition struck me as odd at first, but when I looked into his eyes I saw only kindness there. He seemed to feel bad for all the games and frustration he’d heaped on me. Not that I minded, to be honest. The outcomes were always satisfying and filled with multiple orgasms, so who could complain?

  “I put a deposit on a place in Richmond,” I told him as he urged my legs apart and slid the soap up my thigh.

  His hand stopped. He pinned me with a hurt-filled gaze that surprised me. “You’re leaving?”

  I blurted laughter, not meaning to, and his hurt became anger. So I tried to choose my words carefully. “Well … our three months are up. I have the money I need saved.” I’d only worked weekends as Butch’s sex maid, since I had my job in the city.

  His hand fell from my thigh and plopped into the water that was piled high with fragrant bubbles. “So the contract’s done and you’re gone, just like a good businesswoman would do.” He shook his head and stood up, leaving me behind in the cooling water.

  After the shock over his reaction left me, I pulled a thick, fluffy towel from the silver rack and followed him.

  I found him in his massive bedroom, sitting in the center of his king-sized oval bed. I grabbed a purple silk pillow from atop the sheet and sat on the end.

  “You’re upset I’m leaving?” When he didn’t look at me, didn’t speak, I tried a joke, “Disappointed you can’t torment me anymore?”

  The joke earned me a glare that could wilt flowers. “Not upset in the least.” He shrugged, gave a cruel smile. I’ll be glad to get rid of my former bully. Oh, and tell Corey I said he’s welcome to you.”

  That kicked me in the heart like a donkey hoof. And, it was at that moment, I realized I loved him. No matter how stupid, how crazy, it was true. I loved Butch McIntyre, and I probably always had, but I bowed to peer pressure and denied my true feelings for him way back then.

  And, since he didn’t love me now, I’d walk away and deny them again.

  But I was pissed over that Corey crack, so I stood up, stalked closer, and shook a finger in his face “What makes you think I’ll go back to that asshole, hmmmm?”

  He sneered. “Your kind always do. The pretty ones, the popular ones. They stick together, while they’re sticking knives in each other’s backs. I remember high school.”

  I shook my head at him, sad that he thought I was still that superficial girl who gave into the mainstream for safety. I thought I’d shown him I was more than that over our time spent together. Thought he at least cared about me, but I was wrong.

  “You don’t know me at all.”

  I stomped around the room, packing up my things, while he watched in silence. Then I left the mansion without even giving him a kiss goodbye.

  ***

  I’d had a crappy day at work, and all I wanted to do was get back to my new apartment and soak in a long, hot bubble bath. Streamlining businesses as a corporate consultant paid well, but it had its downside, too. Today I had to cut the jobs of ten people, and I felt like a great big ball of negativity and guilt. It was never easy picking employees for the chopping block and costing them their livelihood.

  I dug into the pepperoni pizza I had tucked under one arm, and I was in mid-chew when I realized my apartment door was open a crack.

  Who the hell was in my place? I fished a can of pepper spray out of my purse, then did a juggling act with it and the pizza while I nudged the door open wider with my shoe.

  The apartment looked the same as when I left that morning. I checked the open kitchen / living room area, held the can of mace up, ready to spray if there was anyone lurking in my closets.

  When I flipped my bedroom light on, I screamed.

  There lay Butch McIntyre, sprawled out on top of my new brocade quilt and pillows. His wrists were tied to the bedposts by two silky neckties. A dozen red roses covered his crotch, and they were the only thing he wore.

  “Casey Carpenter, I love you,” he said as I stood in the threshold, gaping at him.

  My pizza dropped to the floor with a splat.

  “I have always loved you,” he continued. “Even when you put itching powder in my underwear at the prom and told Cassidy Faynor I had crabs.”

  I couldn’t stifle my spontaneous chuckle in time. “Sorry, I am not laughing at you! I swear.” I shook my head at myself. “ I was such a bitch to you back then. I can’t say sorry enough.”

  He nodded to indicate I should sit on the bed, so I did.

  “I forgave you a long time ago,” he said.

  “How exactly did you get in here?” I touched the red roses wrapped in tissue paper.

  He smiled a feline smile. “I have my ways.”

  I shook my head in awe and grinned back. “Who tied you up?”

  “My chauffeur owed me a favor. Tonight, I’m your sex toy.”

  I plucked the roses from his lap and found he was very happy to see me. His thick cock already stood erect, and the glans slapped against his stomach when I pulled the flowers away.

  “Thank you.” I pressed the velvety petals to me face. “They’re lovely.” Then I wrapped a hand around his stiff shaft. “And so is this.”

  He moaned as I pumped my hand up and down, then he gritted out words through his teeth, “Please, don’t make me ask.”

  “Make you ask what?” I wasn’t sure what he meant. I was too fixated on the pearly pre-cum spurting from his glistening cockhead.

  “If you love me or not.” His voice was small, like he was that awkward kid again, and my heart went out to him.

  I grabbed his face and kissed him soundly. “Of course I love you! Sorry, it’s not every day a girl comes home to find a hot man on her bed wearing nothing but roses.”

  We laughed together at that, and I kissed him deeper, letting our tongues entwine in a hot dance of passion. I explored the curve of his pecs, and the valley between then, with my tongue and lips. I kissed the ripple of muscle running down his stomach and poked my hole in his belly button, wiggling my tongue there until his cock twitched harder and he bucked his hips up.

  “Nuh-uh,” I said, wagging a finger at him. “This time, you will submit to me. Wait right there.”

  I skipped out of the room, giggling when he growled at my departure. I ran to the fridge to grab the honey, intent on torturing him the way he had tortured me over those three months.

  He lifted his head from the pillow when I re-entered, and I shook the bear-shaped bottle at him.

  “What do you have planned, you naughty girl?” He raised an eyebrow.

  I sat on the bed and twisted open the lid. “I’m going to smother your cock in honey and lick you clean.”

  He looked pleased at the prospect.

  Before he could reply, though, I placed a finger on his lips. “And you can’t cum until I tell you to.”

  He nipped at the tip of my finger then gave a groan of disappointment.

  I backed away from the bed long enough to strip naked, then I crawled like a cat across the mattress. When I leaned over him to grab the honey from the nightstand, I made sure my breasts brushed over his lips. He grabbed a nipple between his teeth and swirled his tongue around the pink tip. I moaned as the sensation went straight to my loins.

  I pulled from him and playfully tapped his cheek. “No touching. I only get to touch you.”

  He frowned at this. “I’m not sure I like this game.”

  I slinked down his body again, licking and nibbling as I did so. “Oh, you will like it.”

  I squeezed sweet, amber liquid down over his ramrod hard cock. He sighed and jutted his hips up while the syrupy nectar trickled over his wide glans and steely shaft. Once it reached his scrotum,
I lapped beneath the ridge, slurping up all the sticky goo there before I moved to his hole. I stuck my tongue inside and licked up his salty pre-cum as it mixed with the sugary liquid.

  “I do like it,” he whispered. “Soooo very much.”

  I lapped the honey from the sides of his shaft, and he bucked, moaned, thrashed as I did so. He was incredibly frustrated he couldn’t touch me, and I teased him further by stroking my wet pussy up his thigh. My breasts pressed tight against him as I bobbed up and down his cock, and the honey that had trickled down his balls and inner thighs coated my flesh in slick sweetness.

  I dipped my head between his legs to suck the nectar from his shaved scrotum. His sac was smooth and shone with stickiness. I pressed my tongue into his sac and lapped at it, tugged at with my teeth, sucked the loose skin deep into my mouth.

  “Dear god,” he groaned. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

  I stopped and sat up, giving him a cheeky smile as I tormented. I wouldn’t touch his cock, but I lightly skimmed my fingernails up and down his balls. “Not yet. You have to wait until I say.” And I shook a finger in his face.

  He thrashed in his bonds, jutted his hips up, and begged, “Please… let me come now.”

  I sat and let him wriggle a little while longer. Then, finally, I gave him what he wanted. I deep throated his penis. His glans hit the back of my throat and my chin brushed the soft skin of his sac. I sucked him hard and held him there until he bucked up, slamming his head farther into my throat, nearly choking me. Then I slid my lips up the shaft slowly, swirling my tongue back and forth over the sensitive skin as I did so.

  “All right, now you can cum.”

  I bobbed faster and faster until he shot his seed and I swallowed the hot, salty flow. I rose up and smiled at him, wiping a bit of glistening cum from my bottom lip as I did so.

  “Now, you have to untie me,” he said, his breath still ragged from the intense orgasm. “One more surprise.”

  He went to the nightstand after I unfastened the neckties for him. After rifling in the tissue paper cocooning the roses, he returned to me with a small velvet box.

  “Casey Carpenter,” he said, now kneeling. “Will you marry me?”

  I looked at Butch and once more saw that little geek boy from so long ago. I knew, then, I’d loved him always, too. If I’d have been smart all those years ago, I’d have picked him over Corey.

  “Yes,” I said, tearing up as he presented me with a huge teardrop diamond ring. “I will.”

  ***

  Cindy Eller

  (From the 50 Shades of Fairy Tales Series)

  By Leigh Foxlee

  I ditched my pre-Valentine’s date. And it wasn’t the first time I dumped Prince Charming. I felt like a jerk.

  You are a jerk! my inner voice scolded. I wouldn’t blame him if he never chats with you again.

  “Oh shut up,” I grumbled back, pulling my glasses from my face to clean away smudges with my sweatshirt.

  Prince Charming was the chat name of my online paramour. I went by Cindy Eller, after my favorite fairy tale. My real name is Cynthia Ellerton, and everyone calls me Cindy for short, so I suppose it lacks any imagination, or internet security really. Me and PC had met in a Funtime Games chat room while playing Goofee Gophers Word Search. He’d made a joke that he must be the one for me, since our screen names matched perfectly. The conversation flowed easily, amicably.

  Then, about a month back, he’d suggested taking our games over to the adult chat section. I’m somewhat sheltered when it comes to sex, but curious, and I felt I knew him well enough to agree. Besides, it was just online sex, right? What harm could come of it?

  My step sisters and step mother didn’t quite see it that way.

  “What if he stalks you?” Sally clucked her tongue and shook her bright red hair. “You can’t be too careful these days.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like I plan on meeting him ever. Besides, I’ve been chatting with him for months. What’s the big deal? Don’t be so uptight.”

  My stepmother’s smooth brow crinkled with fine lines. “Sally does have a point. Those internet—oh, what are they called?—hackers?”

  Rebecca, my other step sister, nodded at her mother.

  “Hackers,” my step mother continued, “could get your phone number, address, all that stuff and come kill you!”

  I tried not to roll my eyes at the thin, bird-like woman. I knew she meant well. She worried that my social anxiety made me spend too much time on the computer and not enough time face to face socializing. Plus she watched too many tabloid news programs and believed them to be true. My step mom saw me as the sheltered introvert she had to protect, and I could admittedly be a bit too cavalier with my internet security, despite my deep trust issues with people. What can I say? I’ve got a contradictory personality sometimes.

  Still, my family didn’t need to worry. I was great with online game chat, but I was still dodging a face to face meeting with Prince Charming. Commitment and trust issues. Yeah, I’m a real package.

  I remembered our first chat make out session. He broke my sexual ice with a simple question: Are you a virgin, Cindy?

  I blushed profusely before I typed back: No, but I’m new to this.

  PrinceCharming: We’ll start slow. Have you ever touched yourself?

  My cheeks grew hotter and my fingers shook as I typed: Masturbated?

  PrinceCharming: Yes.

  I chewed my lip and stared at the chat window, hating how my face burnt with embarrassment. I was a grown woman, in college for crying in the sink, and this was ridiculous. Taking a deep breath, I told myself to Buck up, Princess.

  I typed: Well… kinda … sorta.

  Frustrated with myself, I hit enter and hid my face in my hands. How I wanted to punch a wall, but I didn’t want to lose my damage deposit, or break my fingers.

  PrinceCharming: Kinda?

  His response forced me to take deep, calming breaths. What a ninny I was! Okay, grow up Cindy and chat.

  I typed: I’ve touched my clitoris. Never inserted fingers. No orgasm… yet.

  What I didn’t tell him was my step mother taught me that sex of any kind was “dirty,” “wrong,” and only for procreation. Her words, not mine. But even though I disagreed with her, the woman raised me after my dad won custody and my mom, the natural wanderer, left. I had to live by her rules at one time, and those antiquated rules still played tricks on my less than perfect brain.

  PrinceCharming: Will you play with yourself 4 me? Cum 4 me?

  I swallowed hard, blinked at the screen.

  I typed: I don’t have a cam.

  It was all I could think of, and it was true. Not that I’m a toad or anything. I like to think I’m an average-to-cute geek girl. My short, black pixie ‘do makes me look almost elfin. But I’ve never been a fan of my chin, and my nose is just okay.

  PrinceCharming: That’s okay. Type as you play. Tell me how it feels.

  I quit brooding about my appearance and jumped when the message ping went off. What the hell? I decided. It was time to shed my uptightness. Besides, I was in the privacy of my apartment, and no one would see.

  Taking a deep breath, I typed back: I could just lie. Tell you I’m doing it when I’m not.

  PrinceCharming: I trust you. :)

  My heart fluttered in my chest and I almost hated him for being so slick, so nice, but that wouldn’t be fair. This was my shit messing with my head, not his fault.

  I typed back: So … how should I start.

  PrinceCharming: Get naked for me.

  I shivered as I shed my ash grey sweatshirt, black yoga pants, and red striped thong. My skin felt electric, as if unseen charged particles pinged out of my pores. I was terrified and thrilled all at once.

  My nipples puckered, hardening until they hurt as I sat in the chair again, my clothes completely shed.

  I typed: Okay, what next?

  PrinceCharming: I wish I could see you. ;) Spread your legs. Get comfor
table.

  I did, then waited for his next message.

  PrinceCharming: Stroke your clit. Pull the hood back and rub it. Tell me how it feels.

  I skimmed two fingers up my soft labia then caressed the tiny bead of flesh. Sparks seemed to shoot through my every nerve. When I pulled the hood back to rub beneath, a tiny moan escaped me.

  PrinceCharming: Feel good?

  I stopped long enough to type: Yes.

  Prince Charming: Slide your fingers between your lips. Get them wet.

  I did as he instructed, parting my labia to slip two fingers down my slit. It glistened with my juices, and my pussy already throbbed so strong it was driving me mad.

  Once my fingers shone with wetness, I rubbed my clit again. More electric shocks zipped from my sex to my brain, showering my whole body with delightful sensation. I could see how a person could become addicted to this sort of pleasure. I certainly didn’t want it to end any time soon.

  PrinceCharming: Rub your clit. Fuck yourself with your fingers. Make yourself come, Princess.

  My skin tingled as I ground fingers into my swelling clitoris. Tense muscles started to relax as pleasure flooded my body. My clit pulsed strong from the stimuli. The tingling threatened to drive me mad, and my opening throbbed so hard it hurt.

  PrinceCharming: Details? ;)

  I groaned as I pulled my fingers away from my sex, disappointed by the cessation of bliss. I had to collect my thoughts before I could reply.

  I typed: I’m wet. On fire. I need to cum.

  I stared in shock at my reply. It read so confident and wanton.

  PrinceCharming: Tell me how it feels, how you feel? Bring me into your world.

  My hands shook slightly as I typed: It feels … amazing. It’s like electricity zipping through my body, if getting electrocuted were a good thing. lol

  PrinceCharming: I bet you feel like velvet. So soft. So wet. I can almost see it.

  My cheeks flamed with heat and a smile quirked up the corners of my lips.

  I typed: Now, can I get back to it? ;)

  PrinceCharming: haha! Go for it.

  This time, I positioned myself in the chair so I could slide fingers inside me while still playing with my clit. I closed my eyes and pictured him with me, imagined what he would look like. My fingers became his fingers.