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Page 9


  She tightened her sex muscles around him. “I know.”

  “Starting with this.”

  Good thing she had hold of the bar. Otherwise his harsh thrust would have sent her head slamming into the headboard. His insistent cock seared her channel. Excited beyond belief, she again tightened her sex muscles. So he thought he was all-powerful did he? She’d show him she was his equal.

  After that initial fierce attack, he slowed a little, no longer hammered into her. His thrusts remained fast, nonstop. She couldn’t think, could only feel. Heat. Then heat some more. There was something primal about his grunts, a man letting go of all restraint. Feeling his power throughout her gave her new insight to him, either that or she was tapping into a message that had always been there.

  She couldn’t move, was beyond content to milk him with her pussy muscles, to send her own message in the way that mattered most.

  How wrong she’d been to think he’d wrung all responsiveness out of her. His fire and determination fueled her, roughened her own breath. She joined him in his drive toward release and made it her own. By turns she forgot about him and lived for him. Her body existed to please his just as he had been put on earth for the same reason.

  It was good. So damn good. Being shaken. Used. Abused.

  No, not abused but she loved the word anyway. Maybe one day soon they’d take the concept to another level. She’d be his to handle and mishandle and he’d worship her for it.

  Worship?

  The word tangled inside her, settled into a dark corner as her body started to splinter.

  “Mine,” he hissed. “You’re mine.”

  “Use me. Damn it, use me.”

  She opened her mouth to say more but suddenly it didn’t matter. Her body seized, splintered, seized again. Crying, she let go of the bar and dug her nails into his arms. He kneeled upright, taking her with him. One last slamming thrust and he climaxed.

  Bellowed.

  Ignited by his primal cry, she joined him. They were floating, drifting in the creek or stream or lake they’d been talking about. Together. Nothing else mattering.

  * * * * *

  “Where do you live?” Rico asked.

  She told him but didn’t ask the same of him.

  He finished buttoning his shirt. “You work some evenings, right?”

  “Tuesday and Thursday to accommodate my students.”

  “What about the other nights?”

  She’d already put everything except her sandals back on, hurrying the task so she could watch him get dressed. The Unchained facility included a shower and they’d showered together. He’d meticulously shampooed, soaped and rinsed her. Then he’d planted her in a corner where she’d watched with her wet hair in her eyes and her muscles loose as he did the same to his own body.

  She’d wanted to doze off next to him after they had sex but he’d said he had to go back to work. He hadn’t removed her cuffs until he’d toweled her off. Faint marks remained on her wrists, but it went deeper than that. She was still chained to him, part of him.

  “Those evenings belong to me,” she told him. “About once a month I talk to one woman’s group or another, mostly on the weekend.”

  “What would those women think if they knew what you did today?”

  She faced him but kept her gaze downcast. Her compliant stance felt good, right even. “That’s none of their business. I teach self-defense and talk about taking charge of one’s life, but control means different things to different people.”

  “What does it mean to you?”

  Even though she suspected he’d ask the question, she didn’t have a ready answer. Massaging a wrist, she walked over to him.

  “I thought I knew,” she admitted. “Now I’m not so sure.”

  He ran his fingers into her hair and gripped the strands so she couldn’t move her head. “You aren’t the only one who is reassessing the meaning of the word control. I also want to change certain things about the way I live my life.”

  Much as she wanted to touch him, he hadn’t given her permission. “What things?”

  “Getting rid of the feeling of isolation, for one.” He drew her against him, tilted her head up, and covered her mouth with his. This kiss was different from the first, hard, self-assured. Half-crazy from wanting him, she opened her mouth and welcomed in his tongue. He took and demanded, wrapped her in his embrace and held her so tightly she couldn’t move.

  She was lightheaded and her pussy was wet when he pushed her back. He didn’t relinquish his hold on her arms.

  “Connecting,” he said. “Defining our relationship in a way that works for us.”

  “I want that too,” she admitted. “To explore…”

  “Domination and submission?”

  “That’s part of it. I want depth and intimacy, to open up about what I need and want and have you do the same.”

  “We aren’t going to get that done in a couple of days,” he pointed out.

  “No, we aren’t.”

  She couldn’t think of anything more to say and was content to let him decide whether they should continue this conversation right now. When he let her go and tapped the smart phone hooked to his waistband, she understood.

  “Today has been an incredible experience,” she said. “Step one.”

  “Step one is right. We need to thank the Unchained staff for getting us started.”

  Started.

  About Vonna Harper

  Under her "real" name, Vonna Harper has published more fiction than she can keep track of. These include category romances for the major players as well as the 'juicy' stuff. She also penned a series of well-received Native American historicals. One earned her finalist status in both the Women Writing the West Willa award and Pacific Northwest Booksellers Association. Before discovering romances, both erotic and otherwise, Vonna 'confessed' all kinds of nonsense for the confession magazines.

  When asked about erotica research, she insists, "Of course I've time-traveled to the ancient Everglades, infiltrated bondage strongholds, done wilderness search and rescue, and spent a night trapped in a workout gym with Mr. Universe. How can I possibly write about something I haven't experienced?"

  As for day jobs, "I've been a commercial pilot, brain surgeon, worked as a white-water river guide, bee keeper, snake charmer, and garbage collector."

  And if you buy all that, she'd like you to check out the bridge she has listed on eBay.

  Vonna welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

  We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email the author directly or you can email us at [email protected] (when contacting Services, be sure to state the book title and author).

  Also by Vonna Harper

  Beast Master

  Brothel Night

  Cowboy Pick-Up

  Danger’s Embrace

  Dark Touch

  Forced

  Getting Laid

  Her Passionate Need

  His Voice, His Command

  Hot Earth

  Night of Fire

  Roughing It

  Savage Storm

  Scarlet Cavern

  Scarred Hearts

  Silent Heat

  Soco Awakening

  Under His Thumb

  Virgin Afternoon

  War Prize

  Whitewater Hunter

  Winter of the Beast

  Print books by Vonna Harper

  Danger’s Embrace

  Dark Touch

  Forced

  Her Passionate Need

  Scarlet Cavern

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Submissive’s Surrender

  ISBN 9781419993428

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Submissive’s Surrender Copyright © 2015 Vonna Harper

  Edited by Susan Edwards

  Cover d
esign by Allyse Leodra

  Cover Photography by Sakkmesterke for Shuttestock

  Electronic book publication April 2015

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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