Kinky Girls Do ~ Bundle One Read online

  Kinky Girls Do

  ~ Bundle One ~

  An erotic short story collection by

  Michelle Houston

  www.unleashedink.com

  Bound In Love © copyright 2007, 2013 by Michelle Houston

  A Feast for the Senses © copyright 2011 by Michelle Houston

  Cowboy's Dungeon © copyright 2010 by Michelle Houston

  All About Trust © copyright 2007, 2013 by Michelle Houston

  Cover art © 2013 Michelle Lee

  Edited by Jenna Byrnes and D Musgrave

  Published by Unleashed Ink at Smashwords

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit www.unleashedink.com and purchase your own copy or contact [email protected]. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  BOUND IN LOVE

  Yvette leaned back against the plush leather seat and sighed deeply. "I don't know what to do, Doctor. I know he loves me, and I trust him. I just feel kind of nervous about him tying me up. How sad is that? I’ve been married almost four years to Brett, but sometimes I still have flashbacks and nightmares. Yet, I admit, the idea of being helpless, his to do with as he wills,” Yvette’s voice trailed off as she struggled to put to words the feelings that were welling up.

  Ever since Brett’s latest tour started, each time he got leave, things had slowly been evolving in the bedroom. He had completely stopped pulling her down on top of him during sex; instead he was the one in control. His grip on her hips was just a little tighter, his touch a little rougher.

  From across the room, her therapist met her gaze with steady gray eyes. "Does it turn you on, thinking about it? Him binding your hands, and being free to touch you however he wants?"

  Yvette gave a little jerky nod. She had to struggle to resist the urge to squirm in her seat. Just the very thought of Brett dominating her was enough to start her juices flowing in preparation for his cock.

  "Does he know you were raped?"

  Her voice a soft whisper, Yvette answered, "No. It's never come up. I don't know if I can tell him."

  "What you're feeling is natural—the fear and the excitement. After the trauma of your rape, it's normal for you to feel hesitant with trying things that take away your control. But you and I both know that you would be doing yourself a disadvantage if you deny yourself something you find exciting, especially with someone you trust."

  "I know." Hearing the hesitancy in her own voice only hardened Yvette's wavering resolve.

  "How do I—" She paused, licking her suddenly dry lips, trying to frame the question in her mind. "How do I let him know to go slow without telling him what happened to me?"

  "Would telling him be so bad?"

  Yvette gave a shaky nod. She needed her therapist to understand. "When he looks at me, he sees someone who's got it together. He sees me as I was before the rape. And for the most part I do too. But some things still make me flinch, my stomach gets all tied up in knots, and I hate that my rapist still has that power. I am not a victim. But if I tell him—"

  She felt the sting as tears formed in her eyes. Blinking rapidly to keep them from falling, she forced herself to rush on. "If I tell him, he'll treat me different, like a bird with a broken wing. I'm afraid he'll smother me, keeping me from having the independence I've struggled to regain. I know he won't do it on purpose; it'll be out of love." She took a breath to calm her jagged nerves, "I can't tell him that while he was stationed overseas, fighting to keep me and this country safe, someone attacked me."

  Looking into those gray eyes, Yvette felt a soothing energy flow over her. That's what she liked about this therapist, her third since the attack. She listened, didn't push or judge, and she had the deepest gaze full of understanding. It allowed Yvette the time to heal at her own pace.

  "Since he returned, has sex been as it was before the rape?"

  "Sort of. He's only been back twice for a week's leave. Things started changing in the bedroom about two years ago, almost a year before the rape. He started getting a little more intense. He touches me so gently, like he always has, yet now it’s a little rougher. His hands hold me tighter. He's strong, and he knows it, so he’s still careful with me. Plus, with him being over a foot taller than me, and let's face it, I'm a 110-pound weakling, he's always so aware of his strength."

  Yvette curled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. "It makes me shiver just thinking about it, the ways things had been changing. Looking at him across the table at dinner, knowing the leashed animal magnetism, and the beast of lust that lurks within him is enough to get me hot. Doctor, it's what first drew me to him, the way he filled out his uniform as he walked down the street, so confident in himself and his abilities. This last two years, it just got better, until,” her voice broke off again.

  A few moments of awkward silence filled the room as Yvette struggled to continue, and found herself unable to.

  "How do you feel about it now, when he touches you? When he's covering your body, driving into you?"

  Yvette fought the flinch. "I love him. I trust him, and I try to not remember what happened. I tell myself that the rape had nothing to do with sex, it was all about power. With Brett, it’s about power to some degree, but it is more about love and feeling close to each other, being intimate on the most basic levels."

  "But sometimes…" She knew she was being led, but the soft voice only encouraged her to open up.

  "Sometimes, especially when's he's really horny, he pins me to a wall, trapping me. I get a little light headed for a moment, but it feels so good. His strength, his love, his body pressed against mine. God Doc, I used to love it so much when he'd chase me around the house, sometimes out into the yard, and pin me down and slowly make love to me, holding me trapped beneath him." She paused, trying vainly to remain calm. "So I'm sick. Is that what you wanted to hear? I had rape fantasies before I was raped." She could hear the defensiveness to her words, but couldn't stop it.

  Unperturbed, her therapist leaned forward, her voice still as calm and even as before. "First, Yvette, you're not sick. There's a difference between forced seduction, or even a need to submit sexually, which is what you have with your husband, and what that sick monster did when he raped you. Secondly, it is healthy to have fantasies and to explore them. Him tying you up and making love to you, claiming your body in an intense seduction is healthy. Especially given his career field, him being able to control you sexually, to feel your response to his dominance over you, is something he probably needs too."

  Yvette nodded, feeling shaky but beginning to understand what her therapist was trying to get to. "So what I want with him is forced seduction?"

  Her therapist nodded. "Exactly. Just like many of the romance novels out on the market, where the heroine wants the hero, but either likes to be coerced or simply feels
secure enough to give in to the need to submit. Rape is where she has no power in the situation, where it is forced upon her with no way out. It's completely different, in forced seduction or even sexual submission there is an illusion of control that your husband has, but it all rests with you. With your husband, all you have to do is say no, and I am sure he will pull back. Ultimately, you hold all of the power."

  Yvette nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "When we first started playing with spanking, it got too intense, and I told him to stop. He did, and then spent the next twenty minutes kissing every red spot on my ass. It was delicious, almost more so than the spanking. I loved laying there over his lap, letting him kiss and caress me. One of his hands rested on the small of my back, holding me still."

  The session continued for another twenty minutes and by the end of it Yvette felt rung out, but also relieved. It had taken some doing, but she thought she was ready for when her husband got home on leave in two days. She was going to explore their fantasy, and at the same time, discover if she truly was a sexual submissive. After the last few sessions with her therapist, Yvette was coming to see that Brett had been holding back—and so had she.

  * * *

  Two days later, she was dressed in a lace gown over a set of pink underwear, waiting by the door when she heard the taxi cab pull up. The sound of heavy boots thumping on the porch announced him moments before the door swung open. As was their custom, he tossed his bag on the floor, swept her into his arms, and kicked the door shut, holding her tight against his chest while he plundered her mouth with his.

  Returning the kiss with all the pent up passion in her tiny frame, Yvette wrapped her arms around his neck and let him carry her to the bedroom.

  Every time he came home for leave, the homecoming was always bittersweet. None more so that this one. Now, he was stationed stateside again—his tour overseas at an end. He might have to be gone for a few weeks at a time for training, but it would be nothing like going six plus months without him.

  "Damn, baby, I missed you," he growled against her neck while kissing the slender muscle. As they reached the bedroom, he gently laid her on the bed and moved back to trail his gaze over her. "Have you missed me?"

  Yvette smiled, her pulse already racing in response to her answer. Playing their game, she leaned back on her elbows and purred, "I guess I have. Although with work and all, I really didn't notice the time flying by."

  After his first six week stint for training, they had started playing this game that it didn't matter. It tore Brett up thinking about her alone, missing him, aching for him while he was gone. But his sense of duty demanded he stay with the military and serve his country in its time of need, despite his own views on where it took him.

  "Mmm, good. We kept busy, too, playing poker at night and getting in lots of sun tanning during the day."

  Yvette's heart clenched at his words, but she struggled to not let it show. Every day had been torture, struggling to not turn on the TV and sit fixated, waiting for news of the area of the world he was stationed in.

  Reminding herself of her earlier promise, she sat up and slowly pulled off the lace gown, revealing the dainty pink bra and panty set to his hungry gaze. "I have to admit, though, I've been very bad."

  Brett arched an eyebrow at the change to their routine, but bless him, he played along. "Oh?"

  "Mmm, yeah." She arched her back, pushing her breasts against the lace bra covering them, her nipples hard and aching for his lips. "I ran through three eight-packs of batteries while you were gone. My poor pussy got so sore from the workout, but I couldn't stop."

  Brett knelt on the bed, his large frame hovering over her as he leaned down.

  "Yeah?"

  "Yes," she hissed, her body on fire with need. Deciding to take the plunge, she took a deep breath and taunted him. "I think I need to be tied up tonight, so I can't touch it while you have your way with me."

  A blaze formed in his brown eyes. Without warning, he pounced. Grabbing his belt, he whipped it out of its loops and loomed over her, pushing her flat onto her back.

  "You have been a bad girl, Yvette. I don't mind you playing a bit, but that's my pussy you've abused."

  Yvette shivered in sensual anticipation as he wrapped the leather around her wrists and pulled it through the buckle, then pulled her arms above her head. As he started to wrap the leather around the bedpost and tie it into a complicated knot, she involuntarily jerked. She could feel a trace of panic rising within her. She didn't know if she was ready for this, but as his gaze met hers, so full of love and desire, she fought against the fear. The panic wasn't enough to take her breath away. Not yet anyways.

  As he moved back and stripped off his clothing, baring the magnificent body that was half-genetics and half-military training, she felt her pussy clench. She licked her lips as she watched the play of muscles as he moved over her. His hands, rough with calluses, caressed her legs as he pulled them apart and up, draping them over his shoulders.

  Pressing soft kisses against her panty-clad crotch, he crooned softly, "Poor little pussy. She didn't take good care of you, did she? It's okay baby, daddy's home now."

  Yvette arched her hips, anxious to feel the flick of his tongue against her clit.

  His head whipped up and his gaze pierced into her, full of heat. "Enough. You abused my poor baby; I have to take care of her first."

  Pulling at the leather wrapped around her wrists, the buckle scraping against her tender flesh, Yvette couldn't pull free, and Brett was obviously planning to torment her. Unable to break her bonds, she lay there, panting after her exertion while Brett continued to softly blow on the panties covering her pussy, the damp material clinging to her skin.

  "Brett," she gasped as he nipped at her puffy lips.

  The glint in his eyes gripped her as he lifted his head to silently scold her. Slowly, he shifted his body, a panther stalking its prey, moving with a sinuous grace as he held her legs clasped over his shoulders, pinning them against her chest.

  She was helpless, unable to move. Just like that time. She closed her eyes, fighting the instinctive panic, knowing if she gave in, that would be it. She'd have to tell Brett what had happened.

  As the blackness of her secret threatened to overwhelm her, Yvette's eyes flared open and started into Brett’s brown gaze, seeing it full of love and desire. Matching her breath to his, she was able to fight through the panic and revel in the thrill of being tied up, helpless to his passion.

  "Damn, baby, I've dreamed of this so many times. In the desert heat, at night, when all was calm, I'd fist myself imagining you laying there, your hands bound as I slowly fucked you." His cock pressed against her pussy, his hips rotating in a sensual grind against her. "Or it would be daylight, and I'd chase you across the dunes and when I caught you, I'd tie you up and slowly thrust into your wetness."

  She could almost see and feel it. His tall frame bending over her, her smaller body pressed between the warmth of the sand and the warmth of him.

  He surged against her, and she bit her lip, holding back the words that were forming. She wanted to beg him to take her, but knew he'd only prolong the teasing if she did.

  Her knees brushed against her breasts as he pressed down harder, his body pinning her as he ripped the thin panties from her. The sound echoed in her memories. His warm gaze had become her lifeline, holding her to the present, keeping her from the painful remembrance.

  They had made love several times since her rape, in the two weeks he had been on leave, but she had had always had a way to wiggle away from him. Now, there was no escape, she had no control or power.

  Rather than terrify her, she could feel her essence leaking from her pussy, her inner thighs wet with her own juices.

  "Do you want me?" he taunted, brushing his cock against her outer lips.

  Yvette nodded her head.

  "Say it," He growled.

  She loved the husky rasp to his voice, the tightly leashed need dripping from his abrupt demand. She kne
w she needed to say it as much for herself as for him.

  The choice needed to be hers. She realized that it was true what her therapist had said; despite being bound, she was still in control. Brett's reasoning had always been that with his size, anytime he had the advantage, which was almost always, he needed to pause. It was just one of the things she loved about him. He had had her pinned against a wall before, his cock pressed tight against her crotch, and he had held there for what seemed an eternity until she had demanded he quit teasing her.

  "Fuck me," she rasped, her throat tight with need.

  Brett shifted again, his cock nudging at her entrance. "Mmm, baby, I could stay like this all night." He slipped just an inch in, and then wiggled his hips. Her clit on fire with need, Yvette tried to shift beneath him, but her position held her almost immobile.

  "Brett, please," she whimpered, needing him to claim her, to replace the horror of the rape with a new memory.

  Brett's eyes were her lifeline, she held his gaze as he thrust hard, driving his cock deep within her. Tightening her legs as they lay over his shoulders, she squeezed her inner muscles tight, trying to hold him inside her.

  With a smile of pure masculine satisfaction, Brett slipped free, withdrawing until only his cock-head was within her.

  She tried to pull her arms down to pull him in, but couldn't move. The buckle of the belt scraped the back of her hand, only heightening the moment as she squirmed, trying to coax him deeper. His chest hair tickling her breasts, she whimpered her need, unable to speak for the riot of emotions clouding her thoughts. She was afraid of just what she would say, so she held silent.

  His eyes lit with a fire, he moved slowly, thrusting into her, holding his body from crushing her. Immobilized, she could only lay there, waiting with anticipation for the down-stroke, and trying not to gasp in dismay as he pulled back.