Take Me: A Collection of Submissive Adventures

‘I don’t want to come yet,’ he said, kissing my nipple, my collar bone, my chest. He stayed still, no doubt to stave off his orgasm.

I pushed my palms against the ice chest and he moved back when I tried to stand.

‘Where you going?’

‘Losing my mind.’ I leaned forward briefly, seeing the edges of the deck where the wood was the most shattered. The thin places that were the most dangerous. I licked the tip of his cock for a moment, just to hear him shift, just to hear him groan. ‘Come on,’ I said.

Was I really going to do this? Had I utterly lost my mind?

‘What is it they say about adrenalin and fucking?’ I asked myself more than John.

But he heard me and chuckled. ‘It’s not nearly as dangerous as you think it is.’

I put my hand on the railing, my body licked by cool night air. I pushed the old wood just enough that it rocked. It creaked and I whispered, ‘Really?’

‘Really. Wood and nails are sturdier fare than you think.’ He’d moved up behind me, pressing his cock to the split of my ass.

I hummed and arched back against him. ‘Do it,’ I said.

John chuckled, but a big possessive hand fanned my lower back, making my nipples grow harder still. He stroked the ladder of my spine, ticking off each vertebra with the tip of his fingers. ‘Are you sure about that, Maggie? You’re so scared you’re shaking and yet you want me to fuck you while you brace against it?’

‘I’ve been scared for ever. Part of dealing with it was buying this house and now part of it that I want is this … freedom. To be wild and alive and not afraid of falling.’

He pushed my thighs wider and slid the tip of his cock along me until he found my wet split. He held my hips as I gripped the railing, then thrust into me. My body rocked forward, pushing me onto my toes, forcing my weight forward so the railing groaned. I shivered but my pussy clenched up tight around him. So tight that he noticed. ‘Fuck,’ he growled.

I pushed back, ratcheting up the friction between us. Bracing myself with one hand, feeling the railing rock some but ignoring it even as the adrenalin spiked through me, I found my clit and started to rub. The grip of his hands on me, the cadence of his breath, all said he was close. And I was close, the fear as blissful as the pleasure.

John looped his big arm around my waist, bringing his body closer to me. His thrusts were deep and hard and when I rubbed my clit my body bloomed with heat and delight.

‘Hang on, boss lady,’ he growled and thrust harder. Once, fast and brutal.

I rocked against the railing and wood cracked dryly. Shards fell away and, seeing it all come undone, I came undone too. Coming hard, rippling around his still-driving cock. He laughed, but it was a wild laugh like one born of an adrenalin rush. Taking a step back from the edge as the far left corner of the rail toppled over, I heard it hit the yard below with a dull thud.

‘You’re a walk on the wild side,’ he said. ‘First you’re terrified … then you’re ready for cliff diving, so to speak.’

He pulled free of me and I turned, rushed at him, drove him back as I moved forward. When we hit the safety of the kitchen, I jumped against him hard and kissed him. We both went down in a heap on the old kitchen tiles. He grabbed my hair, looping his hand in a tangle of it, and hauled me in for another kiss.

‘That was … that was … wow!’ I laughed. My hand found his cock and I was stroking him again. He was growing hard already.

‘Yeah, imagine the things I’m going to do to you when that gypsy princess bed is out there.’

I straddled him and ground my wet pussy on his pubic bone. I felt the rise and press of his growing erection against the cleft of my ass. Adrenalin, apparently, did do amazing things for a body.

His hands slipped under my top and found my breasts. Pinching, kneading, squeezing me until I shut my eyes and let my head fall forward. ‘So …’ I said, trailing off.

He put his hand to my mouth and covered my lips. My pulse spiked when he did it. Just like the railing and the fucking on the dilapidated porch, it held the potential for danger. His hand was big, my mouth was small. He caught the look in my eye and moved his hand down to circle my neck. When he pressed his thumb and pinky to the pound of my pulse, I grew wetter.

‘So … I figure that this deck, this bed, this gypsy project should become my focus. My personal project.’

I rocked against him, watching those ice-blue eyes darken a shade with arousal.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘And then when my crew leaves for the day maybe you could come check out my progress. Make sure it’s good.’ He squeezed my neck softly so that my head felt muffled and fuzzy for a split second. Then he released me and reeled me in with a lock of hair.

He kissed me, then waited for me to speak.

‘Yeah,’ I agreed. I found him with my hand and put him back to my wet entrance. Before I sank down I said softly, ‘I’ll bring the wine.’

Spank It Out (#ulink_b012ca0b-6441-50b8-914e-5ff714000017)

Heather Towne (#ulink_b012ca0b-6441-50b8-914e-5ff714000017)

Julie had known Vincent since high school. They regularly got together for lunch, talked on the phone, exchanged e-mails. Vincent was a mild-mannered accountant, soft-spoken, with neatly combed brown hair and a somewhat bland face. He seldom got upset about anything. That’s why it surprised Julie so much when they met at a restaurant one Friday noon, and Vincent seemed about ready to burst into tears.

‘What’s wrong, Vincent? I’ve never –’

‘It’s Cassie!’ the normally self-controlled man blurted out for the entire restaurant to hear. ‘I–I think she’s cheating on me!’

Julie glanced around at the alarmed patrons, then reached across the table and patted Vincent’s hand, trying to calm her friend down. Although she wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear this news; she’d figured it’d been coming for a long time, as long as Vincent and Cassie had been married. Two years.

Cassie was a buxom blonde with a bubbly personality and boisterous attitude, almost the exact opposite of her staid, timid husband, outgoing and outspoken. It had always seemed odd to Julie that the pair had ever even found each other, let alone married; an extreme example of opposites attracting. They’d seemed to make it work, however; up to now, anyway.

‘What makes you think Cassie’s cheating on you, Vincent?’ Julie calmly asked. As a police officer, she was skilled at handling distraught civilians.

Vincent looked down at the tablecloth, his small, pale hand shaking under Julie’s slender one. ‘Once a week, regularly, she goes out at night – late at night.’ His brown eyes behind the lenses of his glasses glistened. ‘She thinks I don’t hear her, but I do. She goes somewhere – I don’t know where – and then comes back a couple of hours later, early in the morning …’

Julie’s large blue eyes reflected sympathy. She asked the question, though she could guess the answer. ‘Have you asked her – where she goes, what she does?’

Vincent’s whole body shook. ‘No! I can’t!’ he bleated. ‘It’s … I’m afraid of the answer. I know I’m not good enough for her, never was!’

Julie gripped his hand. ‘Now, Vincent –’

‘No, it’s true!’ Vincent gritted his teeth, staring desperately at Julie. ‘But I have to know. I have to be sure.’

The waiter drifted over. Julie shooed him away with her free hand. ‘Well, you’re just going to have to confront her, demand to know what’s going on. Maybe it’s not so bad …’

‘I want you to find out, Julie! You’re a detective. At least, a police officer, I mean. You’re skilled at this kind of thing.’

Julie opened her mouth to try to dissuade the man, but he kept on talking, letting it all out. ‘She’s always so tired afterwards, sore, and so quiet and subdued. It’s like she’s a completely different person, for a day or two. She’s so nice to me then that–that I can’t come out and ask her. But you can find out for sure – find the evidence of what she’s up to.’

Julie steeled herself for the next question, which had to be asked. She’d been dragged in this far, she might as well go all the way. ‘Do you two still have sex, Vincent?’

The man gulped. ‘Not for a few days after she’s … been out. But afterwards, yes, in the dark, in our usual …’

Julie smiled. ‘You can tell me, Vincent. Friend to friend.’ She was about to add, ‘Victim to law officer’, but bit her tongue in time.

Vincent flushed, then shrugged. ‘Well, uh, we do our usual thing – missionary position, I, uh, guess they call it. Cassie used to try to get me to experiment with other positions, but now she seems content with just that … every now and then.’