SubmissivesSurrender

  Submissive’s Surrender

  Vonna Harper

  Two strangers come together in a room made for sensual discovery and personal growth through the exploration of BDSM. She says she wants to experience submission in order to be a better self-defense teacher. He wants to develop empathy through sexual domination of a submissive.

  Neither is prepared for the powerful emotions, insights and hungers unleashed when they give in to their true selves.

  Act by act, Karmen gives up her freedom, body and will to the sexy and powerful Rico. With every act, Rico breaks through her barriers, helping her to surrender control and admit her real desires. In the process, they come to know each other and themselves more intimately than either believed possible.

  Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!

  A Exotika® contemporary erotica from Ellora’s Cave

  Submissive’s Surrender

  Vonna Harper

  Chapter One

  The leather cuffs dangling from the man’s hands froze Karmen Graham’s breath. With every second, she became more aware of her burning lungs, but breathing took concentration she couldn’t spare.

  Don’t back down. Otherwise you’ll never understand.

  Jaw clenched, she blinked repeatedly and re-focused. She was wrong. It wasn’t the cuffs so much as the dusky male fingers that captured her attention. She knew his name—Rico Llanos—but little else. The lighting in this so-called bedroom was dim, the setting sliding off into nothing until only the stranger she’d agreed to spend time with mattered. He was too damn tall. Her reaction surprised her because at five feet one, she believed she was accustomed to the sharp contrast between her height and most men.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have come in here.

  Music played from hidden speakers, a whisper of drums and guitar. The air was warm and clean-smelling with a hint of rose. Roses were full of contrast, lovely flowers and sharp thorns. Maybe that’s what Rico was, a mix of sexuality and danger.

  No, not danger in the real world. She trusted the organization known as Unchained not to put her at risk.

  Risk?

  That’s what the cuffs represented.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” Rico said, speaking for the first time. “What you’re feeling.”

  Scared. Excited. Out of my element. She pressed her fists against her hips. “Maybe I prefer to be the one asking the questions.”

  He shook his head. “Maybe later but not now. For the record, I’ve managed a lot of people, not the other way around. Besides—” He lifted the cuffs. “This is your journey.”

  Yours too, she wanted to point out but arguing might take them too far from what this room was about.

  “Where did you get them?” She indicated what he held.

  The way he cocked his head left no doubt he’d caught her attempt at stalling. “Over there.” He nodded at a table a few feet from the bed holding center stage in the middle of the room. “Maybe that’s why I was told to come in first, so I could familiarize myself with what we’ll be working with.”

  She’d spent years molding herself into a fearless woman and these days taught other women how to defend themselves. Not long ago standing in a place like this never would have occurred to her, but here she was.

  Those weren’t regulation handcuffs. Instead of law-enforcement metal they were mostly wide leather strips with fastenings like a belt or dog collar. Whoever had designed them had probably deliberately chosen black. Just thinking of them tightening around her wrists made her hands sweat and, strangely, her crotch hot.

  “Working with?” she finally thought to say. “I’m not sure that’s the operative word.”

  He stared down at her, hammering home the difference between their physical bodies. “I’m not interested in semantics. I came here for one overriding reason, one I intend to keep to myself. All I want from you is honesty of emotion.”

  This wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d told herself it would be. Rico wasn’t an Unchained employee trained to play the part of a domineering man. He was an unknown, unpredictable, and in charge because he held the toy.

  She hadn’t expected him to be so masculine. For reasons she didn’t want to get into, she’d convinced herself that her fellow Unchained client would be a middle-aged businessman whose wife had no knowledge of his secret fascination with BDSM.

  BDSM? The letters were part of something she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to wrap her mind around.

  “Then what you’re saying is I’m supposed to spill my guts while you keep your mouth shut.” She forced a shrug. “What are you getting out of this?”

  His gaze narrowed. “That’s none of your concern.”

  Much as she wanted to call him on his edict, she couldn’t take her attention off the confining leather long enough to do so. Her wrists heated. What would it feel like to be restrained and under this near stranger’s control? The scary and exciting thing was he might know more about that secret pulsing deep inside her than she did.

  “I want you off balance.” He stepped toward her. “Tell me something. Will this be a new experience for you? You’re used to being in control.”

  She folded her arms over her breasts and stared up at him. Her one hundred and five pounds weren’t going to get her very far against his close to two hundred. “Yes,” she told him then stopped before she made the mistake of telling him it hadn’t always been that way. “Did you get a report on me? All I know about you is that you have your own company and are financially successful.”

  “That’s important to you?”

  His sharp comment pulled her attention off the restraint dangling from his fingers. “I don’t give a damn whether you’re rich or living on the street. I don’t need any man’s money.”

  “In other words, you want to make it clear you aren’t a gold digger.”

  Why in the world had Unchained’s management paired her with this SOB? He had all the social skills of a caveman. Unfortunately he also had a caveman’s size and strength to say nothing of a certain arrogance she figured came from having unlimited funds at his disposal.

  “I might not be in the same tax bracket you are, but I’m doing all right.”

  A cool smile came and went. “So I understand. The file I got on you said you too are self-employed. Looking at you, I’d never expect you have a black belt in karate.”

  Just because she was short. Damn it, would she never get past being judged for her lack of physical stature? “What about you? You obviously take physical care of yourself.”

  “Gym membership. I’m in there around five every morning.”

  She easily pictured him sweating and lifting weights, maybe shirtless and in shorts that barely covered his taut thighs. As for why he went to the gym so early, maybe there was no woman keeping him in bed. Now that they’d been talking for a few minutes she’d started to relax a little. He still held the means to restrain her but wanting to wrap her mind around the appeal of being tied up was the reason she’d contacted Unchained. Talking was putting off the inevitable.

  What she needed.

  A little shocked by the admission, she nevertheless managed to pull herself together enough to stop staring at him. The table containing the equipment they’d be using wasn’t that far away. Once she’d familiarized herself with the items on it, she’d be ready to jump into this exercise as Unchained’s staff called it.

  She turned and started toward the table.

  “Stop. Get back here.”

  He hadn’t yelled but the command couldn’t have made more of an impact if he had. “What—”

  “I didn’t give you permission. From now on you don’t do anything unl
ess I approve it.”

  “Don’t order me. I—”

  “Let’s get something straight, Karmen. I’m here in part because I’m determined to dig through your emotional layers. I only know one way to get maximum performance from my employees, by being direct. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to be in charge.”

  Not giving her time to respond, he jabbed his free forefinger at the floor in front of him. “Plant your ass there.”

  A part of her wanted to tell him to fuck himself, yet she found herself doing as he’d ordered. As she was getting ready to come here she’d told herself to unquestioningly embrace the experience. Analyze later.

  “That’s better,” he said when she stood before him. “I can’t take that tone with my employees but they understand. That’s the mindset I brought here. I have expectations of you. I’ll enforce them and you’ll obey.”

  She thought he had more to say. Instead, he ran his fingers over the cuffs. She guessed him to be at least part Hispanic with a body more suited for a physical life than one spent behind a desk, if that’s what he did. Most women, her included, would kill for such thick, rich hair. He kept the black mass close cut around his ears and neck. The longer top seemed to have a mind of its own, curving and dipping around his well-shaped head. Maybe he was tempted to grow a beard so he’d no longer have to deal with the dark haze over his cheeks and chin.

  What would the stubble feel like against her?

  Like her, he wore a collared shirt that buttoned down the front. Her blouse was an understated light blue, one of the collection of tops she’d randomly grabbed over the years. He’d chosen a royal blue with silver flecks that caught what little light the room provided. The expensive fabric stretched over his muscled shoulders and arms. Before today was over would she see his chest, maybe run her fingers through the black hairs she hoped dusted him there?

  He extended the cuffs toward her. “You want to feel this against your skin. To indulge your kinky side.”

  She couldn’t stop looking at the restraint long enough to challenge him with a sharp gaze. “That’s what you think?”

  “It’s what I know.” He jerked his head at her. “Come closer.”

  She’d figured her rent-a-dom would make all the moves. All she had to do was let him restrain, stimulate, and educateher a little about BDSM play. Being ordered to bend to his will so early in the exercise was disconcerting. She couldn’t make her legs work.

  “I expected more from you,” he said. “If you’re chicken, I can walk away anytime.”

  If he left she might never come back, never have the opportunity to try to wrap her mind around the strange but fascinating lifestyle. Shoulders back and arms not so casually at her sides, she moved farther into his space. He smelled of soap.

  “What I didn’t expect,” she said, “is for things to take off so soon. I thought we’d start by getting to know each other.”

  “This isn’t a job interview. I know my responsibilities and was under the impression you did too.”

  According to his file, he wasn’t a natural dom, whatever that was. Like her, he was feeling his way in his new role. In some respects his task was harder because he was expected to direct their interaction while, he hoped, zeroing in on the clues she gave off.

  “Oh I do know my responsibilities,” she said. Maybe. “What happens first? We shake hands?”

  “Hold out your right one.”

  So much for her attempt at striking a light tone. The man had no sense of humor and maybe no desire to really communicate.

  Taken aback by what she was learning about him, she barely noted what she was doing as she extended her right hand toward him. If he was accustomed to women who devoted themselves to their physical appearance he was going to be disappointed. She kept her nails filed short so they didn’t get in the way, put on hand cream only after taking a shower, and had callouses on her knuckles from hitting a punching bag.

  He placed a single black-leather strip on the back of her wrist so the ends dangled over the sides. Despite her racing heart, she kept her hand level so it wouldn’t slide off. He still held the other strap and the clip that, when engaged, would force her hands together.

  “How does it feel?” he asked.

  She swallowed. “Heavier than I thought it would be. Substantial.”

  “And you like it that way.”

  I think I do. “I realize you want to move straight into what our relationship is about, but I deserve an explanation first.”

  He fixed his attention on the leather obscuring the back of her wrist. “Ask. I’ll decide whether I’ll answer.”

  He’d embraced his role. She needed to do the same. “How do you know what you’re supposed to do? I thought this was your first time as—”

  “A dom? It is. Fortunately for both of us, I pride myself on being a quick study.”

  “Okay.”

  “I didn’t have the temperament for college. Why sit in classes when I could learn what I needed to know on my own? That’s how I approached today, by educating myself about the BDSM lifestyle.”

  He considered bondage and submission something contained within the pages of a manual? If he wasn’t emotionally invested in what he’d signed up for, what was he doing here?

  “I trust that answered your question,” he said. “Now it’s my turn. Bondage intrigues you.”

  Aware that he hadn’t asked a question, she forcefully turned her attention to answering. The longer the leather pressed against her flesh, the more all-encompassing it felt. She could shake it to the floor, but if she didn’t, before long the cuff would surround her wrist. Maybe that’s all it would take for something to shift inside her. Instead of viewing what she was doing as a clinical attempt to understand why any modern woman would agree to submit to a man, she’d have taken the first step.

  “I’m not a submissive.” Looking at the strap was easier than trying to read what lay in his gaze. “In fact I consider myself as far from that as it’s possible to be but—call it a new experience. Widening my horizons.”

  “Maybe it’s more than that.”

  Maybe.

  “One of the items on the table is a blindfold,” he said. “At this point I haven’t decided whether I’m going to use it, but I want you to think about how you’d react if you couldn’t see. This—” A surprisingly rough finger stroked her wrist above the leather. “Is kindergarten. You haven’t given up control yet. If you can’t see, you have to trust me. Can you do that?”

  “I don’t know.” She had to work at keeping her voice steady.

  “Hmm. I thought you might say that. Let’s take another step.”

  After stroking her wrist again, he shoved the other half of the restraint in his pocket and wrapped the one he’d already placed on her around her wrist. She shivered as he fastened it. He’d hooked it so tight she couldn’t shake it off. She’d never been into bracelets because they got in her way. This thing felt as if it was part of her, caressing and confining at the same time.

  “Take some time to get used to it. I don’t want you to tell me what you’re thinking because it’s time for me to start picking up on your nonverbal cues.”

  “That’s something you’re good at?”

  His frown distracted her from the snug band. “I hope to be.”

  The few words weren’t enough to help her comprehend what motivated him but the hint was there. She didn’t know whether he was married or had children, let alone what he wanted from her. Remembering what he’d said about getting used to what he’d done, she fingered the leather. The band was softer than she’d expected and rounded at the edges so it wouldn’t dig into her flesh. The metal reflected back the scant overhead lighting. She could unhook it, which should have eased her mind. Instead she wondered what it would feel like once both wrists were restrained and her arms pulled behind her.

  Blind.

  Unable to defend herself.

  Dependent upon this stranger.

  He wrapped his finger
s around her left forearm and drew her arm toward him. She could have yanked free but that would have kept her from taking any more steps in this journey. With an economy of movement, he withdrew the second band from his pocket and latched it in place. The hook dangled from what he’d just attached to her, waiting to be put to use.

  He brought her hands together so her inner wrists touched. “Wrap your mind around what’s happening right now.” He sounded like a teacher. “Pretty soon I’ll hook the restraints together, but I want to give you time to absorb this. If I keep your arms in front, you’ll be able to use them to some extent. However, I might decide to place them behind your back. Your options will become much more limited then.”

  “What options do I have right now?” Her mouth was dry. “This isn’t my definition of freedom.”

  He stared at her joined wrists. “Point taken.” He paused. “I like what I’m looking at. There’s been an undeniable shift in the usual male/female relationship.”

  “Yes, there has.”

  He nodded. “A dynamic that goes beyond what I’m accustomed to as business owner.”

  “Do you ever get tired of playing the role of boss?”

  Still holding her wrists in place, he leaned back a little. “We’re not going there, got it?”

  “I do,” she said even though she didn’t.

  “I hope so. Tell me about your intimate relationships. You’re an attractive woman. Are you in a committed relationship? Maybe he’s into kink and hopes this will bring you onboard.”

  He was giving her too much to deal with. The longer he kept her arms like this, the more helpless she felt.

  And this was just the first step.

  “No boyfriend if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve had them of course including someone I thought I was going to marry but…”

  She waited for him to force her to continue. If he did, would she admit that Eddie and she had fallen out of love as quickly as they’d entered the state? Even her parents and sister didn’t know the details because she was still trying to determine what had happened. In the eighteen months since she’d given Eddie back the engagement ring, she’d concentrated on her career along with some political activism aimed at pay equality for women. If only they could see her now.