Showing posts with label Holden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holden. Show all posts
Holden by Julia Sykes
One look at the gorgeous, curvy brunette standing alone at BDSM club Dark Grove Plantation, and I know she’s mine. She thinks that her desires are twisted and wrong, but I intend to show her how good my harsher methods of seduction can feel. It’s in my nature to dominate, to claim. I have every intention of claiming Holly, body and soul. And if her bastard ex tries to come back for her, he’ll find out just how harsh I can be when someone threatens what’s mine.
Note: An earlier version of this story was released under the title Awakened. It has been extensively re-written as Holden.
Note: An earlier version of this story was released under the title Awakened. It has been extensively re-written as Holden.
“Such a sweet sub,” he said, his voice impossibly deep and heavy with satisfaction. The power exchange passing between us was affecting him as strongly as it had ensnared me. My body and mind were utterly in his thrall, and in that moment, I would have eagerly done anything to please the man who held ultimate control over my being.
He slid two fingers between my legs and traced the seam of my sex through my lacy black panties.
“You’re wet,” he observed with a lustful growl. “I knew you’d be like this.”
“Like what?” I asked, barely able to focus on his words. They seemed to roll off my consciousness like water. Reality was hazy, the world falling away until all I could sense was him: his hard body beneath me, his masculine scent surrounding me, his deep voice rumbling through me. I was captivated by the power that pulsed off him. It caressed my body like a physical touch.
“I knew you’d be naturally submissive,” he replied. “I knew you’d be perfect.”
The praise sank into me to warm my chest.
A different warmth bloomed between my legs when he stroked my clit through my panties. I cried out at the light contact to my sensitive nub. It had grown achy from his ministrations; his gentle fingers contrasted with his stinging discipline. He was harsh and tender by turns, and the dichotomy messed with my thought processes.
“Do you want to come, little sub?” he asked, the question rough with his own desire.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Please, Sir.”
He let out a low groan. “Fuck, you’re sweet when you beg.” He lifted his hips slightly, pressing his cock harder against me. “Do you feel that? Do you feel what you do to me?”
“Please,” I begged again, on the edge of sanity. “Fuck me.” I’d never spoken so crassly, but the deviant words came naturally. I wanted him to claim me, to ravage me.
“You’re going to come first,” he said tightly, restraining himself. “You’re going to come so many times that you’ll be begging me for mercy and sobbing my name by the time I’m finished with you.”
He slid two fingers between my legs and traced the seam of my sex through my lacy black panties.
“You’re wet,” he observed with a lustful growl. “I knew you’d be like this.”
“Like what?” I asked, barely able to focus on his words. They seemed to roll off my consciousness like water. Reality was hazy, the world falling away until all I could sense was him: his hard body beneath me, his masculine scent surrounding me, his deep voice rumbling through me. I was captivated by the power that pulsed off him. It caressed my body like a physical touch.
“I knew you’d be naturally submissive,” he replied. “I knew you’d be perfect.”
The praise sank into me to warm my chest.
A different warmth bloomed between my legs when he stroked my clit through my panties. I cried out at the light contact to my sensitive nub. It had grown achy from his ministrations; his gentle fingers contrasted with his stinging discipline. He was harsh and tender by turns, and the dichotomy messed with my thought processes.
“Do you want to come, little sub?” he asked, the question rough with his own desire.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Please, Sir.”
He let out a low groan. “Fuck, you’re sweet when you beg.” He lifted his hips slightly, pressing his cock harder against me. “Do you feel that? Do you feel what you do to me?”
“Please,” I begged again, on the edge of sanity. “Fuck me.” I’d never spoken so crassly, but the deviant words came naturally. I wanted him to claim me, to ravage me.
“You’re going to come first,” he said tightly, restraining himself. “You’re going to come so many times that you’ll be begging me for mercy and sobbing my name by the time I’m finished with you.”
Julia Sykes is the USA Today bestselling author of the Impossible Series. She has always kept dark stories tucked away in her mind, so she was thrilled when she discovered that other people actually want to read them. Her books blend romance, suspense, and BDSM.
After spending four years living in England, Julia returned to her Southern homeland. She has recently settled down in South Carolina and spends her time petting her cat-children, reading, and binge watching TV with her husband when not writing. You can usually find Julia in Starbucks with a venti iced latte clutched in her hand.
Julia loves connecting with readers! Please feel free to contact her on facebook, through twitter, or email her directly at juliasykes193@gmail.com. You can find out more about Julia's current and future projects at julia-sykes.com.
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