Surrender: Fantasies Unleashed 3 Read Free

rest on her hips. She would not act like some kind of supplicant. This fantasy was about losing control—not dignity.
    “I’ll be out in a minute.” She wished she could dim her body’s telltale flushing.
    “Now,” he said. “Or you’ll be punished.”
    It sounded like he slapped something hard against his hand. Her sex squeezed and one of the beads grazed her opening. “Listen, Jake, or whatever your real name is, I checked ‘no’ to whips or canes.”
    “Enough talking.” The screen crashed to the floor.
    Her entire body clenched and she swallowed a gasp.
    Struggling not to react, she kept her eyes focused on her reflection. But with the privacy barrier down, the heat of his gaze blistered her naked skin. She covered her breasts and slowly transferred her gaze from her image to his.
    The air pushed from her lungs and her hands dropped to her sides.
    Jake was wearing next to nothing, and what he was wearing—Ack! If he’d looked good fully clothed, another adjective, one far beyond her current vocabulary, was required for the unclothed version of Jake.
    Her eyes devoured his bulging chest and ripped abs, and then slipped down the thin trail of dark hair tracing the path to his cock. She fought to keep her jaw from dropping.
    Leather straps circled his hips to form a bizarre leather harness that encased his balls but left his long, thick cock hanging free from a ring at its base. She’d never thought of the male genitalia as attractive—some men’s were downright comical—but everything about Jake’s dick screamed beautiful. Glistening below a thick, veined shaft, his pink head curved into a stunning bulb. The photo she’d seen had not been enhanced. In fact, it hadn’t done him justice. And he wasn’t even hard. Yet.
    Her mouth went dry. She stepped back from the mirror, and her calves hit the chaise lounge. She dropped down on her ass.
    Graceful . Dignity had definitely left the building.
    He glowered. “Come here. Now.”
    The lust spell broke.
    Swinging her legs up onto the chaise, she crossed her arms and leaned back. “Stop being such a prick.”
    He approached and leaned forward, one hand on either side of her. “Do you want me to hit you? To take you over my lap and spank you? To drag you out of here by your hair? Is that what you want?”
    His salty, hot scent made her dizzy, and her back arched against the rush of heat and fear contracting inside her. But she shook off both to gather up a more useful emotion. She summoned all of her anger—anger at her body for flinching, at her cheeks for reddening, her nipples for hardening, her loins for betraying her desire. She retrained her anger on him.
    Raising her chin, she looked him directly in the eyes. “My fantasy was to lose control during sex, to shed my inhibitions. I did not ask to be verbally abused. I did not ask to be threatened, and I certainly did not ask to be punished.”
    He loomed above her, unflinching. He was going to hit her. Or worse.
    Her cheeks burned. Her heart raced. What would he do to her? Better question—could she stop him?
    “Come here, then.” Backing away, he issued the order more gently.
    She stood and stepped forward, trying to hide the slight trembling in her knees.
    Taking her shoulders, he turned her and carefully draped a black silk blindfold over her eyes, tying it under her ponytail.
    “You didn’t even read my script, did you?” she asked.
    “Blindfold: optional during scene four,” he said, clearly hiding a chuckle now. “Forget your script.” He was back to all business. “I give the orders, not you.”
    “Fine.” She shook her head. “We’ll do it your way. At least to start.”
    He ran his hands over her shoulders, tracing down to the tips of her fingers and back up. This was okay, if a bit gentler than the moves she’d thought up.
    He kicked her legs apart.
    She gasped. “Hey.” She tried to turn, but he held her shoulders firm, and braced one of her feet with his.
    “I’m in