Vanessa--gorgeous, educated, and aloof--charges whatever she likes from her clients. She knows they can't help but dish out more and more for the precious minutes they spend in her beautiful presence.
Her specialty is the "girlfriend experience." She dotes on her clients, treating them like long-lost loves, and fulfills their every need. But all the while, she holds deep dissatisfaction with their efforts, and resents their weak wills and acquiescence to her demands.
Her latest client shows promise--delivering a list of rules for her to follow without question. He pays top dollar, and so she knows he has to be extraordinarily rich. She knows, also, that she'll be in control, just like she always has been.
But she didn't expect him to be quite so handsome, or quite so rich, or quite so domineering. And she certainly didn't expect herself to be quivering with hot, steamy need for each new command that this rich hunk gave...
For mature audiences only--this romantic erotica short (~5000 words) contains explicit, hot scenes involving female submission, male dominance, hardcore sex, and breath play!
She was just finishing off the sauce, wooden spoon in hand, when the doorbell rang. Her heels clicked down the wood as she approached the door.
It was hard to say why, but she felt herself getting excited for once.
Rule #5 stated to greet him with a smile and a kiss, so she was ready to do this anyway.
When he opened the door and happened to be a painfully handsome hunk, kissing him became much easier.
He was tall, well-built, his tailored suit clinging perfectly to the wealth of muscles he possessed. His hair was cut short, a thick dark beard framing the delightful cut of his strong jaw. Everything about him—his frame, his arrogant stare at her displayed body, the wealth his suit exuded—just screamed a tantalizingly hot aura of strength.
Before, she had been prepared to kiss him—but she felt herself wanting to kiss him.
“Clint!” she squealed, leaning into his much larger body and sliding her lips against his. “I'm so glad you're here. Thank you for deciding to come straight home tonight.”
He seemed a bit stiff at first, but her lips pressed insistent. Her tongue flicked into his mouth, running quickly over his teeth, pulling on them just slightly.
His hands came around her waist, the naked skin there. In her high heels, even with as tall as she was, she was just under his height.
“How are you, love?” she asked him, locking eyes with him. His were dark, with little flecks of green. “I hope work was okay?”
“Yes,” he said. “Long.”
His voice was deep and resonant, sitting in her belly like the roar of some wild animal.
“My poor dear.” She moved back for a moment. “Oh, drat. I've messed your face with the sauce. I'm sorry.”
This had been entirely on purpose, the reason for the spoon in her hand in the first place. She licked the sauce up off his cheek with a soft little giggle.
“There,” she purred. “All clean.”
About Nadia Nightside
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Published March 11, 2013
Romance, Erotica, Literature & Fiction.