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- Herausgeber: LSODea
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Serie: The Dom's Submission
- Sprache: Englisch
Terry is rich, attractive and all Dom.
When he sees something he likes, or more accurately, something his d**k likes, he gets it.
His women are hot, successful and experienced in BDSM.
Until, he meets Maggie.
She's not at all his usual type. She's round, lush and a hot-mess of a woman.
It's obvious she doesn't belong at La Petite Mort Club and he can't help following her. She needs someone to look out for her. She's a little rabbit in a club full of predators.
When she gets herself into a situation, he has no choice but to rescue her.
When he realizes that she's a natural submissive and innocent of the kinkier side of sex, he'll stop at nothing to have. He can't wait to show her how good it'll feel when she surrenders to his desires.
Maggie had no idea that the club she was going to was a
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Seitenzahl: 218
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
Ähnliche
La Petite Mort Club
His Sub
(Part 1 of The Dom’s Submission Series)
Ellis O. Day
Copyright © 2019 Ellis O. Day
All rights reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-942706-41-0
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Also by Ellis O. Day
La Petite Mort Club
Six Nights of Sin
The Voyeur Series Books 1 - 4
Six Weeks of Seduction
A Merry Masquerade For Christmas
The Dom's Submission Series (Parts 1-3)
Six Nights Of Sin
Interviewing For Her Lover
Taking Control
School Fantasy
Master-Slave Fantasy
Punishment Fantasy
The Proposition
The Dom's Submission
His Sub
His Mission
His Submission
The Voyeur
The Voyeur
Watching the Voyeur
Touching the Voyeur
Loving the Voyeur
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Ellis O. Day
PART ONE – HIS SUB | CHAPTER 1: Terry
CHAPTER 2: Maggie
CHAPTER 3: Terry
CHAPTER 4: Maggie
CHAPTER 5: Terry
CHAPTER 6: Maggie
CHAPTER 7: Terry
CHAPTER 8: Terry
CHAPTER 9: Maggie
CHAPTER 10: Terry
CHAPTER 11: Maggie
CHAPTER 12: Terry
CHAPTER 13: Maggie
CHAPTER 14: Terry
CHAPTER 15: Terry
CHAPTER 16: Terry
CHAPTER 17: Terry
CHAPTER 18: Maggie
CHAPTER 19: Maggie
CHAPTER 20: Terry
CHAPTER 21: Terry
CHAPTER 22: Maggie
CHAPTER 23: Terry
CHAPTER 24: Maggie
CHAPTER 25: Terry
CHAPTER 26: Maggie
CHAPTER 27: Terry
CHAPTER 28: Maggie
CHAPTER 29: Terry
CHAPTER 30: Maggie
CHAPTER 31: Maggie
CHAPTER 32: Terry
CHAPTER 33: Maggie
PART TWO – HIS MISSION | CHAPTER 1: Terry
FREE: Interviewing for Her Lover
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Also By Ellis O. Day
PART ONE – HIS SUB
CHAPTER 1: Terry
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Terry wandered through the crowd of well-dressed women and men at La Petite Mort Club. It was the same scene every time Ethan, his friend and owner of the Club, threw one of these events. The members mingled with the newbies, hoping to snag something different or someone interesting.
Ethan strolled casually toward him, a ready smile on his face as he greeted his guests. “Terry, about time you made it down here.”
“Like you can talk.” His friend spent most of the time in the back office, watching the Club on monitors.
“I’ve been mingling for over an hour.”
“It’s your business not mine.” He leaned against the balustrade, peering down on the crowd.
“True, but you could sell your practice and buy me out.”
“And run this place?” He laughed. “No, thank you.” He tossed back his scotch. “I spend enough time here as it is.” He used to practically live here except when he was at the office or in court, but lately he’d been staying home more.
“Good turn out tonight.” Ethan waved at a waitress and a moment later they each had another drink.
“Yeah, but I don’t see one interesting person in this crop of wannabe members.”
“And you can tell if someone is interesting just by looking at them?”
“I can tell not one of them has an original thought. Look at them. They’re all in red.” The Club was awash in a sea of red dresses—short, long, dark, light but always red.
“It is a Valentine’s Day party.”
“I know but you’d think one woman”—he held up his finger—“one would consider that everyone else would be in red and wear a different color.”
“There are some pinks out there.”
“Same thing, just lighter.”
Ethan grabbed his phone from his pocket and looked at the text, frowning.
“Problem?” The Club was usually a safe place but on open night events, when Ethan allowed non-members access in order to recruit new members, the place could get dangerous.
“A little skirmish over a woman.” Ethan grinned, his blue eyes sparkling as a couple of young guys hurried past them, almost tripping in their haste to stay close to a group of very attractive women. “These youngsters haven’t learned that sharing is more fun.”
He ignored Ethan’s teasing. He’d taken a lot of shit from Ethan, Nick and even Patrick because he wasn’t into the sharing thing. He preferred it to be him and one woman, one sweet, little sub. Since he was in no mood to listen to any more crap, he’d change the subject. “Those kids barely look old enough to drink.”
“You’re showing your age.” Ethan patted his shoulder. “You should find some nice, young thing and teach her how to please her master.”
“Maybe I will, if any of them show enough originality to dress in something other than red.”
“I’ve got to go and sort out this problem.” Ethan slid his phone into his pocket. “I’ll find you later. If you find that elusive non-red dress, I’d suggest we share but...” He chuckled as he headed down the stairs, maneuvering through the crowd like he had nowhere to go, when in reality he was heading for the back—the playrooms.
Terry’s eyes stopped and lingered on the new hire, Desiree, who was moving around the room, talking and flirting with all the men and some women. She was interesting—exotic and beautiful—but there was a shrewdness behind her eyes that he’d learned a long time ago to avoid. A woman like her had an agenda and she stuck with it, no matter what.
Someone slammed into his back, causing his drink to spill down his front, staining his shirt and suit.
“Oh...oh, I’m so sorry.”
He spun around and encountered a red dress and breasts—milky white and lush. The skin would be fragrant and softer than rose petals.
“Oh. Your shirt. Let me get something to wipe that up.”
He forced his eyes away from those lovely breasts. Her hair was a rich mahogany. It’d probably hang past her shoulders in waves of curly silk but right now it was piled haphazardly on her head in what had been some kind of elegant style before disobedient strands had escaped their restraint. She looked mussed and damnit, he wanted to be the one to muss her.
“Paper towels? Napkins?” She glanced around and then hurried over to the bar.
She was short and curvy—her body succulent, ripe and he’d bet juicy. She grabbed a stack of napkins and headed for him. Her dress was too tight, like she’d recently gained some weight. He usually went for the tall, athletic types but for some reason his dick had picked this woman.
She returned to his side and dabbed at the wetness on his shirt and jacket as if she actually gave a shit about his clothes. This was no subtle caress, no flirtation—just indifferent efficiency.
“I’m so sorry.” She wadded the napkins in her hand, still patting at his clothes.
“You said that already.” His words came out gruffer than he’d meant. No one treated him with disinterest. He was a rich, successful, attractive man and she was treating him like a child. He wanted to pull up her—unfortunately, red—dress and fuck her right here. They were at the Club. It wasn’t out of the question.
Her hand froze. “Oh.” Her large hazel eyes looked startled and then hurt. “Sorry. Ah, excuse me.” She headed toward the stairs, dropping the wet napkins in the trash before disappearing in the crowd.
He turned around, so he could see the first floor and waited for her to appear. She hurried across the downstairs room, bumping and stumbling through the crowd. A lone, scared, little rabbit in a room full of predators. She stopped for a moment, scanning the crowd as if searching for someone.
“Who are you looking for, little rabbit?” he mumbled to himself. “A husband? Boyfriend?” He grinned as he lifted his scotch to his lips. “Girlfriend?” He frowned at the empty glass. “You spilled my drink. I’ll forgive you, but it’s going to cost you.” He waved at one of the waitresses. “Everything has a price, little rabbit.” As one of the best divorce lawyers in town, he knew that better than anyone.
The waitress brought him another drink. He paid, giving her a large tip before turning to find his little rabbit. He took a sip of the scotch, enjoying the smooth burn and his lush little bunny’s journey through La Petite Mort Club. She froze in her tracks, her jaw dropping open as she gazed at a threesome on one of the couches.
The woman was sandwiched between two men, stroking one’s cock as the other man fondled her beneath her red dress. The man behind her looked up and said something to the little rabbit. Her face heated and Terry’s eyes dropped to her chest. Yep, they were a pretty shade of pink but what he really wanted to know was if the color matched her pussy.
She stumbled away from the threesome, bumping into another man. It was Richard, who stopped her from falling and then immediately let her go, stepping away. She was safe with Richard. As a member of the Club and a gentleman, he knew that safewords were law and consent was absolutely necessary. She said something to him and continued through the Club, disappearing in the crowd.
“You’re not getting away that easily.” He followed along on the upper floor, keeping her in sight. He had no idea why but he wanted her. Maybe, it was simply because she was different than everyone else here.
He took another sip of his drink. It was obviously the little rabbit’s first time at a place like this but she didn’t seem eager to participate or interested in watching. She truly seemed to be looking for someone specific—not just someone to fuck. Well, she’d found the latter because he was going to fuck her. In the office he followed his head but at La Petite Mort Club his cock was king.
She headed toward the playrooms. There was no way he was going to miss this. He sauntered down the stairs, grabbing another drink on the way. She wasn’t hard to follow. She left a path of irritated people in her wake as she bumped into them and apologized profusely before hurrying forward. Her full, round hips swayed under her tight, red dress that’d seen better days—hem frayed and at least five years out of style. Not that he minded, especially the snug fit of the cloth, but his women were usually much more put together.
They were the CEO types—women who thrived on being in charge. He enjoyed teaching them how much fun turning over control could be. When they were with him, he was their dom, their master and he made sure they loved every second. He told them when to kneel, when to suck, when to spread their legs or ass and when to come. The more power they had in their everyday life the more they craved bowing to his wishes. His little rabbit wouldn’t know what power was. She was a hot mess of a woman. Still, his dick wanted her, so his dick would have her.
She was hurrying out of the first playroom when he entered the hallway. Her eyes were huge and her cheeks were on fire. She ducked into the next room and quickly came out—even redder than before.
“Excuse me.” He’d offer his assistance in her search. She’d be grateful. He could capitalize on that unless she was looking for her husband or boyfriend. He wasn’t in the mood to share. He would, however, allow the other man to watch. He could give the guy some pointers on how to take care of his wife because this woman needed guidance.
“You?” Her eyes narrowed.
That wasn’t the reaction he was used to. Women usually purred for him.
“Are you following me?”
“What would you do if I said I was?” He took a step toward her.
“I’d scream. There are bouncers here. I saw them.”
Lord, she was cute. “Yes, but if they came running at every little scream they’d die of exhaustion.”
As if to emphasis his point, a woman screamed in ecstasy. His little rabbit’s face heated and she averted her gaze.
“Who are you looking for?” He skimmed his finger down her cheek. Her skin was as smooth as porcelain but much warmer and softer.
“Ah...” Her breath hitched, making her breasts swell dangerously above her gown.
He could have her out of it in a minute. The skin would be even softer than that on her face. “Did you lose your husband?”
“No.” She licked her lips.
There was no way he could let that offer pass. He slowly bent, giving her time to refuse him. He may command his women but he made sure they always wanted it first. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and he couldn’t help a slight smirk. She wanted this as much as he did. He moved closer and let his lips rest gently on hers. He’d take it slow, make her yearn for him and then he’d make her obey.
“What are you doing?” She turned her head.
“Kissing you.” His lips brushed against her cheek. He wasn’t about to lose ground.
“Why?” She turned again, her eyes meeting his.
The confusion in her hazel gaze was as clear as the hideous dress on her gorgeous body. She may remind him of a rabbit but she couldn’t be that naive. She had to be in her mid to late thirties.
He should use flowery words—tell her she was beautiful, desirable—but that wasn’t him. Blunt was the kindest word to describe him. “Because, I want to.”
“You don’t even know me.”
He was losing ground. The interest in her face was being replaced with disgust. “No, but I know I want you.” Damn, he shouldn’t have said that.
“Well, too bad.” She pushed on his chest and he stepped back, letting her pass.
“This is a sex club, you know.” He followed. “If you aren’t here for sex, why are you here?”
She spun around. “I’m quite aware of what this place is and just because I don’t want you, a stranger to...to”—she waved her hand about—"in the hallway.”
He laughed. “We wouldn’t be the first. There are people fucking in the main room.”
“I know. I saw.” Her cheeks heated.
He stepped closer. “You are adorable.” He touched a strand of hair that was resting on her shoulder. It was like satin.
“I’m a mess.” She pulled her hair from his fingers.
“A hot mess. A fiery, hot, sexy mess.” He moved closer with every other word. “One I want to fuck, right now.”
Her eyes hardened. “Too bad because I don’t”—again she waved her hand about—“you know, with strangers in the hallway.” She shoved his chest again.
He took a small step back but he wasn’t giving up yet. “We can go to a private room.”
“No.”
Shit. By the look on her face, he’d just made a bigger blunder.
“Let me go.” She pushed him again.
Damn. She’d said the worst three words in the English language besides I love you. He moved away, releasing her for the moment. “Sorry.”
She harrumphed.
“I made a mistake.”
“Yes, you did.” She hurried down the hallway but not before he’d seen the look of hurt in her large eyes.
“What the fuck do you want from me? I made a mistake and apologized.” He trailed after her.
“I want you to leave me alone. Please. Go away.”
He stopped. His little rabbit was running but perhaps, he shouldn’t chase. She darted down a hallway toward the hardcore BDSM rooms.
Normally, she’d be fine—embarrassed but fine. Except with all the newbies here, tonight wasn’t a normal night. He hurried after her. “Hey, I don’t think you want to go—”
“Leave me alone.” She walked faster. “I need to find my friend and get out of here.”
“Okay, but I don’t—”
“Go away.” She sounded both mad and as if she were going to cry.
“Suit yourself, but I warned you.”
She strode into the closest room. He should leave. Let her find out that he wasn’t the worst thing in a place like this, not in a long shot, but his feet followed her. She was his little rabbit. He’d found her. No one else was going to enjoy her until he’d had his taste.
“Vicky? Vicky? Are you in here?”
He stepped into the room, staying in the shadows. She was looking around in the dark for her friend. It only took a moment for one of the six guys to notice the little rabbit who’d stumbled into their den.
“Shit,” he mumbled. Not one of those guys was a regular.
CHAPTER 2: Maggie
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That man was an ass. Maggie had never met a guy like him, but he fit every preconceived notion she had of rich, handsome men—tall, arrogant, dark haired, entitled, in excellent shape and his suit had to cost a fortune. She needed to find Vicky and get out of this place. She wasn’t a prude but the things they were doing in here—in public—were indecent, immoral. She should be disgusted but she wasn’t. She was flushed and not only from embarrassment. It’d been over a year since her divorce and she was lonely.
“Hey there, sweetheart.” A tall guy stepped forward, smiling at her breasts.
“Hello. Have you seen...”
A woman was bent over a wooden horse, naked except for a black scarf around her eyes. Her hands were tied together in front and her legs tied to two of the horse’s legs. Several men surrounded her, all in various stages of undress. A man, wearing assless chaps and a mask, stood behind her holding a paddle. By the color of the woman’s butt, he’d used it...a lot.
“We have a new toy,” said one of the other men. “I can’t wait to see those titties swing when we spank her.”
“I want to fuck her so hard they bounce,” said the tall guy who’d first greeted her.
“Oh...oh...no. I’m sorry.” She stumbled backward but the men shifted, blocking her route to the door.
“Don’t run away, darling,” said the tall man. “You’ll love it. We’ll make sure.” He grabbed her shoulders, twisting her so she was staring right at the woman in the center of the room. “Watch Renee. See how much fun she’s having.”
The man in the chaps slapped Renee’s ass with the paddle and she screamed. He caressed her skin, letting his fingers slip between her legs and stroke her pussy.
“Yes...please,” moaned Renee.
Maggie’s breath hitched in her chest as the other woman writhed against the man’s fingers. She’d never imagined being spanked could bring pleasure.
“See. You’ll like it.” The tall man’s breath was hot in her ear—the heavy scent of alcohol making her turn away. “Watch while he fucks her and then we’ll all fuck her.” He began pushing Maggie toward another wooden horse.
“What?” Oh, no. This was not for her.
“Don’t worry. We’ll fuck you too.”
“No, please. Let me go.” She tried to pull free but his fingers dug into her arms. “I don’t want to do this.” Her stomach roiled. She was going to puke.
“You know the rules, boys,” said someone from near the door.
She knew that voice. It was the man from the hallway. “Please, help me.”
“Yeah, we know the rules. Everyone has to want it.” The tall man yanked her to his side and squeezed her ass. “She does.”
“I don’t. I don’t want this.” She elbowed him in the stomach but he only tightened his grip.
“Don’t lie, bitch. You want it. You came in here and walked right over to us.”
“I came in here by accident. I was looking for my friend. I couldn’t see what you were doing.” It sounded stupid even to her, but the room was dark and she’d heard a moan and had thought Vicky might be in trouble.
“We’d love to be your friends.” The tall man pulled her closer. “Wouldn’t we?”
The other men chimed in with agreement.
“We ain’t opposed to one more.” The tall guy turned to the man from the hallway. “But you go last.”
Dear God, she was going to be gang raped. She had to get out of there. “Let me go.” She shoved at the man, but he was too strong.
“You heard her.” The hallway man’s voice was low and dangerous. “She is not consenting. You know the rules.”
The man holding her looked at the tall, dark stranger. “Fine. Take her. Bitch ain’t worth the trouble.” He shoved her toward the hallway man.
She stumbled forward, tripping over the tall guy’s foot. The stranger moved fast like a cat, catching her against his body long enough to steady her, before taking her arm and pushing her behind him.
“She’s too fat anyway.” The tall guy walked toward the restrained woman.
It shouldn’t hurt. She didn’t know this man or like what she did know about him, but the words, so similar to her ex-husband’s, stung.
“Renee, it’s Terry. Are you okay?” asked the man from the hallway.
“Fabulous,” she purred as the man with the paddle trailed kisses across her pink ass.
“Good.” Terry grabbed Maggie’s arm. “Let’s go.”
She almost had to run to keep up with his long strides. He dropped his hold as soon as they stepped into the hallway. He closed the door, shutting out the danger and Maggie’s knees buckled. That could’ve been so bad.
“Hey, you okay?” Terry touched her arm, but it was with concern not force.
“Thank you.” She blinked back tears but they slipped out anyway. All she’d wanted was a night out—to be a woman for a few hours, not a mother, not a hostess and not an unwanted and unloved wife, ex-wife.
“Ah, hell.” He took her hand and started down the hallway.
“Where are you taking me?” She pulled against his grip. She’d just gotten out of a situation. She wasn’t about to jump into another one.
He stopped, giving her a disgusted look. “I saved you from being raped and you still don’t trust me?”
“I...ah...” It did sound a little unappreciative the way he said it.
“I don’t force women. Ever.” He squeezed her hand which she hadn’t even thought about removing from his grasp. “I need to report their behavior to Ethan.”
“Ethan?”
“The owner. I don’t want anyone else accidentally encountering them.”
“The owner will do something?”
“Of course. This is a reputable club. There is no rape here. Rape fantasies, sure, but not rape.”
“A respectable sex club? Right.” She’d heard about these kinds of places but the real thing was so much worse. “Those guys were so respectful.”
“Those guys are not members and never will be.”
“You’re a member.” She should’ve known. He may have saved her but he’d also tried to have sex with her in this very hallway.
“Yes, I am.” Pride filled his tone. “And I assure you, no member would ever do anything like those guys were going to do to you. It isn’t allowed. Ever.” He tugged on her hand. “I really need to speak with Ethan.”
“I-I need to find my friend.” She didn’t want to wander around alone but Vicky could be hurt or in a bad situation like she’d been.
“We can do that too. Ethan will find your friend and you can wait in one of the back rooms.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. That was where he’d said they could go to have sex in private.
He sighed as if weary of this conversation. “You turned me down. You were almost raped. I’m not going to attack you. Trust me.”
She nodded, following him down the hallway and hoping she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.
CHAPTER 3: Terry
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Terry followed his frightened little rabbit inside one of the private suites and closed the door behind them.
“This is where...” She looked around the room, eyes wide.
Ethan didn’t do anything half-assed, including decorating these rooms. The carpet was plush and brown with hints of blue to match the walls. The furniture was a solid, light-colored wood, a refreshing break from the darker décor of the club.
“There’s no bed?” She looked at him her face pale as a hint of a blush crept into her cheeks. “Not that we were...” Her hands fluttered in her nervousness.
“Believe me, you made that perfectly clear.” But he had every intention of changing her mind—not tonight, but soon.
“I didn’t mean it.”
He raised his brow. Maybe, tonight would work.
“No. I...that’s not...” She took a deep breath. “We aren’t going to, you know, but I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I don’t mind.” He chuckled. She was beyond adorable. “I’m almost always rude.”
“No.” She reached out as if to touch him but stopped, her fingers only a breath away from his arm. “You saved me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but I shouldn’t have had to. Which reminds me.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and texted Ethan, sliding it back into his jacket when he was done. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned to one of the chairs by the couch and then pointed at the door near the bar. “That should be the bathroom and there”—he nodded at the door across from them—“should be the bedroom...with the bed.”
“Oh.” She blushed, looking anywhere but at him.
