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Obeying Olivia

An A - Z Story

By Kim Dare

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

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Resplendence Publishing, LLC

2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349

Daytona Beach, FL 32118

Obeying Olivia

Copyright © 2012 Kim Dare

Edited by Christine Allen-Riley and Jason Huffman Cover art by Les Byerley, www.les3photo8.com

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-489-5

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic Release: March 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

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Because male submissives and female dominants

deserve happy endings, too.

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Chapter One

Mark Thompson paused halfway through wiping down the long, mahogany bar. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Someone was watching him. He was used to attracting a certain amount of attention when he worked behind the bar on these occasions, but for some reason, this particular gaze felt different as it trailed across his body.

Looking discreetly through his lashes, Mark ran his eyes over the female dominants who occupied each of the tables dotted around the room.

As the private lounge of one of the best hotels in town, the room was reasonably small. And the club that had booked it for the evening had made it clear that their membership was all about quality rather than quantity.

It didn’t take Mark long to scan the entire assembly, but somehow, he failed to find the source of the stare. He mentally cursed before repeating his inspection of the room.

A male submissive stepped forward and knelt next to his mistress’

chair. Past him, another table came into Mark’s field of vision.

There!

His gaze fell on a slim, blonde woman sitting on the far side of the room. As soon as their eyes met, he knew she was the one who’d been studying him.

Olivia Marshall.

His mouth went dry. His pulse kicked into a special gear that only she seemed to inspire. He quickly looked down, not wanting it to appear as if he were trying to outstare her. When he risked another glance, she was still

watching him, deep blue eyes never wavering. A tiny tilt of her head called him to her side.

Leaving the cloth he’d been using on a shelf behind the bar, Mark obediently made his way out from behind the mahogany shield that had protected him from less welcome advances during the evening.

Suddenly, the room seemed to grow. It took years for him to reach Olivia’s table.

“May I be of service, miss?” he asked.

She waved a hand toward the chair opposite her. “Sit down.”

Mark dutifully obeyed. The hair on the back of his neck prickled again. This time, he didn’t try to track down the source. He had no doubt that more than a few women had raised an eyebrow at the fact he’d been invited to join Olivia at her table.

He felt the eyes of other male submissives on him, too. Most of them stood behind their mistress’ chairs or knelt at their sides. Few had been invited to sit at an equal level with a domme.

“You don’t like being the center of attention, do you?” Olivia asked.

Sitting straight in his chair and somehow managing not to fidget, Mark looked up and met her eyes once more. “No, miss. I don’t.”

Olivia lowered her gaze first, but not in submission. She blatantly assessed Mark’s body as if he were nothing more than a new pair of shoes in a shop window. Pulse racing faster than ever, Mark remained very still, politely waiting for her to finish.

“How many women have already invited you to submit to them this evening?”

Every instinct Mark possessed screamed that he was finally speaking to the one woman of his acquaintance whom he’d consider it pleasure to submit to—and whatever confidences he needed to break in order to keep the conversation going would be worth it.

Mark stared down at the table as he dragged the right response to his lips. “I’m sorry, miss, but it’s not my place to speak about the other ladies here or what they may have said to me.” No words had ever tasted more like ash.

A moment passed, Mark pulled his gaze back to Olivia’s face. His stomach clenched at the possibility that his failure to answer properly would

kill any spark of interest she felt in him, but it was too late to change his mind now.

Olivia lifted her wine and took a sip. Pale pink, painted lips caressed the edge of the glass.

Mark swallowed rapidly, unable to stop himself from imagining those same lips brushing against his mouth as she held him still to be kissed.

“Good answer,” she finally said. “I’ve heard that you’re fussy about who you play with.” She set her glass down. “Do you have a well-rehearsed answer for that observation, too?”

He didn’t. Mark sat perfectly silently for what felt like a very long time, while his mind raced. “Some male subs feel submissive toward all women. I just…don’t,” he finished lamely.

Olivia nodded. For a moment, Mark thought that answer had been acceptable, too. Then, she stood up. Mark quickly rose. At their full heights, she was almost a foot shorter than him. Long locks of blonde hair fell back from her face as she tilted her head back to look him in the eye.

“I’m in room four-thirty-three. If you decide I’m one of those rare women you do feel submissive toward, you have ten minutes. If you’re not at my door by then, don’t bother joining me.” She picked up her glass and her handbag. “I’ve already spoken to the organizer. You have her permission to leave your duties here if you decide to accept my invitation.”

Mark could only stare after her, completely speechless, as she walked across the room, stiletto heels lending a gentle sway to her hips. Black seams ran up the backs of her stockings, holding him mesmerized.

His lips ached to be allowed to kiss his way up those seams. His hands ached for the privilege of helping her into and out of such garments at the beginning and end of a night. His cock just ached.

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Chapter Two

Olivia Marshall rolled her shoulders, quietly enjoying the sensation as all the tension that had built up inside her during the working week gradually began to fade away. No more trying to be polite as she pointed out why her boss’ latest idea was flawed. No more toeing the company line.

It was club night, and she was free to be herself in a way she seldom was in the “real” world. Olivia smiled to herself as she paced slowly around the hotel room and waited to see if her invitation would be accepted.

It was a nice room. At some point, someone had obviously put a lot of time and effort into decorating it. But it was hard for her to appreciate mere prettiness. The true beauty she’d seen in Mark while he’d served behind the bar put even the most exquisite of soft furnishings in the shade.

Setting down her glass of wine, Olivia flicked her hair back over her shoulder and glanced into the gilt-edged mirror that hung just to the right of the suite’s sofa.

Her eyes already held that sparkle that only appeared there when she was ready to play. Olivia raised an eyebrow at the reflection. There was no guarantee Mark would make it that far. There was only so much that could be garnered from public observations.

At that moment, a polite rap on the door let Olivia know that he had made his decision—and with five minutes to spare. Humming contentedly under her breath, Olivia strolled leisurely toward the door.

There was no second knock attempting to hurry her along. Olivia mentally put a tick in the box marked patient. Even after she’d opened the

door, she still took her time. Slowly running her gaze over Mark’s body, she took in every detail.

Neatly pressed black trousers that had been just tight enough to show off a very nice backside whenever he ventured onto the public side of the bar. A white shirt, the sleeves folded back above his elbows, indicating his readiness to work.

Olivia lifted her gaze higher. Mark’s hair was very dark. He must have shaved just before leaving his house that evening because there wasn’t even a hint of stubble on his jaw.

Their eyes met. For a few seconds, Mark held her gaze, studying Olivia and assessing her expression in return. When he finally lowered his eyes, it was an obvious attempt to signal his lack of interest in staring her down.

Olivia reached out and trailed her fingertips over his jaw. She’d been right. Perfectly smooth. She couldn’t help but wonder where else he might have shaved.

Letting her smile grow wider, Olivia finally stepped back and allowed Mark in. As she returned to the suite’s sitting room, she was acutely aware of his presence, just a few steps behind her.

Sudden tension crackled around them as if the submissive had brought a whole room full of static electricity with him.

Sitting down, Olivia waved her hand toward the other end of the small sofa, inviting him to join her there.

“Thank you, miss.” His movements were neat and confident, his deference appearing both natural and highly erotic.

Olivia turned in her seat, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet up beneath her as she settled herself comfortably. She didn’t miss the way Mark’s eyes lingered on her stocking clad feet, but that was a question for later. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five, miss.” Mark didn’t ask her the same question in return.

Smart boy—she had well over a decade on him.

Olivia took a sip of her wine. “And you’ve been on the scene for how long?”

Mark turned more fully toward her, but he made no effort to relax the way she did. “Three years, while taking it seriously, miss,” he said.

“Seriously, meaning?” she prompted.

“Meaning that’s how long I’ve been looking for a twenty-four-seven, female-led relationship.”

“So you’re not just in it for the scenes?” Olivia asked, her tone still casual, as if she hardly cared what the answer would be.

“No.” There was strength in the way he said the word. He obviously hadn’t lost his spine when he’d discovered his submission. A little shiver of anticipation ran over Olivia’s skin. Her clit tingled its complete approval.

He had a nice, low voice, with just the hint of an accent she couldn’t quite place.

“My father was Scottish, my mother is Irish, and I grew up in London, miss.”

Olivia tilted her head to one side. He was studying her carefully, obviously trying to work out how she’d react to him sharing those facts.

“Impressive,” she allowed. “Not many submissives would be able to guess what I was thinking after such a short acquaintance.”

He dropped his gaze, but not before she saw the pleasure in his eyes at the compliment. He seemed to relax, just a little, but the tension in the room merely doubled in response. Everything seemed to be balanced on a perilously sharp knife’s edge as they each tried to work out if the other was offering what she or he was looking for.

And she knew that she was ultimately the one who would decide if they kept their balance or if someone ended up getting cut. Adjusting her position, she stretched out her legs along the sofa, until her stockinged feet rested against the side of Mark’s leg.

“May I?” he asked, with a glance down at her toes.

Olivia nodded her permission as she took another sip of her drink, curious to see what he might do with the opportunity.

Lifting her right foot, Mark began to carefully massage her sole. His efforts quickly centered on the parts of her foot that her high heels had placed the most strain on.

He looked up every so often, checking her reaction. His desire to please was almost tangible, but the real pleasure he took in the task didn’t so much hang unseen in the air, as rise up very visibly from his crotch. With both his hands occupied, there was little he could do to hide the way his erection tented his trousers.

A touch of color rose to his cheeks. She hid her smile behind her glass and, reaching out with her other leg; let her left foot slide up his thigh until it rested directly over his fly.

Mark’s hands froze. He didn’t look up. He didn’t blink. He didn’t even seem to breathe as he stared down at the way her toes lay against the line of his cock.

“Why did you stop?” she asked, all innocence.

“Sorry, miss.” His hands gradually began to move again, thumbs rubbing circles under her arch.

He had wonderful hands, strong and confident in their work. Olivia had never guessed that there could be so many pleasure centers located in her foot, or that her soles had a direct line to her clit. Behind the soft black fabric of her dress, her nipples pebbled into tight little buds. Just above the lacy tops of her stockings, her slit grew wet.

She allowed him a few seconds to get back his stride before she flexed her left foot. He paused again, but only for a fraction of a second.

Even so, he seemed to be having some trouble controlling his breathing as Olivia curled her toes over his tenting fly.

He closed his eyes for a second. His teeth bit down on his bottom lip as he made a bid for self-control.

“You’re very good at this,” Olivia observed.

“Thank—” Mark broke off into a gasp as she ran her toes more firmly over the line of his shaft through his trousers.

“Who taught you?” she asked.

“I took a course in…” he murmured. His bottom lip suffered under his teeth again. No more words were forthcoming.

Olivia smiled. “You like obeying my orders, don’t you?”

Mark stared down at her toes. “Yes, miss, I do.”

“Good.” She took another sip of wine. “Take off your shirt.”

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Chapter Three

Mark had been honest when he’d answered Olivia’s question. He was enjoying following her commands. They seemed to sneak straight into a part of his mind that few women knew how to access. His desire to follow the latest one was almost overwhelming. He had to take a moment to pull himself together and make sure his movements were smooth and controlled when he gently placed her right foot back on the sofa.

He put his hand on the arm of the sofa, about to stand up, but Olivia’s left foot pressed down pointedly against his cock. He didn’t have permission to stand. Letting his weight sink back into the sofa, he accepted that restriction without comment and reached for the top button of his shirt.

Quickly undoing the fastenings, he shrugged off the garment, folded it neatly, and set it on the floor next to the sofa.

Acutely aware of her eyes on him, he could only hope she liked what she saw enough to want to keep him around for the rest of the evening. Just how much he wanted to remain in her company made him tense.

There was safety in doing scenes with dommes who he had no desire to belong to in the long term, but in that moment, Mark realized that, with Olivia, he was now submitting without any kind of safety net.

If he fell, either she’d catch him or it would hurt—a lot.

Mark tried to calm his nerves, but he wasn’t even in control of his own heartbeat. His pulse raced faster and faster, but he was helpless to do anything about that while he sat half-naked and wholly vulnerable next to Olivia.

A moment passed. She nudged him with her toes. “You may go back to what you were doing now.”

“Thank you, miss.” Mark took the offered left foot and set to work.

The muscles in this sole were just as knotted as the first foot he’d worked on. He gave the task his complete attention. She had beautiful feet. Even half-hidden away behind the stockings, they were gorgeous.

His cock grew even harder as he forced himself to resist the urge to bow his head and kiss them without permission.

“Tell me what your interests are,” Olivia suddenly ordered.

He glanced up, so surprised by the question, he didn’t even think before he met her eyes.

“Yes, Mark, you are being interviewed. I wouldn’t have invited you to my room if I didn’t think you had potential. You wouldn’t still be here if we didn’t have chemistry. Now,” she said, very calmly. “I want to know more.

First the kinks, then, if you get that far, I’ll want to know who you are in real life, if you’re the kind of man I would like to collar and keep around permanently.”

Mark swallowed several times in quick succession.

“Not many submissives get that far,” she added. She tilted her head to one side as she seemed to think that statement through. Then she smiled.

“Not many submissives get this far.”

He turned his attention back to the foot massage for a few moments, his mind racing as he desperately tried to find the best words to frame his answer. His interests… Mark frowned slightly. It had been a long time since anyone had bothered to ask, even longer since it had felt important that he get his answer precisely right.

“I enjoy service, miss,” he said slowly, glancing up to check her response.

She nodded her acceptance of that.

He dropped his gaze back to his task just in time to see her lift her right foot and draw a line down the center of his chest with her toes. A shiver ran through him. A moment later, his nipples contracted into tight little peaks as Olivia flexed her toes and brushed them against each dark pink circle in turn.

“I find it hard to believe that’s your only interest,” she prompted.

“I…” Mark closed his eyes for a moment. It was almost impossible for him to think clearly while she continued to tease him. “I want to belong to someone, to know that I’m owned. I enjoy knowing that I’m pleasing someone—knowing that there is only one person I need to please.”

“Keep going,” she said. She pressed down against one pebbled nipple with the tip of a toe, firmly enough to send an extra jolt of adrenaline racing through his body.

He only just held back a whimper. “I want a mistress who’ll love me, even though I’m not offering her the kind of relationship a man traditionally provides.”

As the words hit the air, Mark’s eyes opened very wide. He’d been so focused on what was happening to the rest of his body, he’d completely forgotten to censor the words that left his lips.

He turned to Olivia wondering what sort of apology might save his skin. He opened his mouth, only to close it again without speaking, as he saw the look in her eyes.

“If you’re waiting for me to tell you you’re an idiot to hope for that, you’ll be sitting there a long time,” she finally said. She smiled then.

“Dommes are just as capable of falling in love as anyone else, you know?”

she chuckled. “We’re just more inclined to make our lovers jump through a few dozen hoops before we even let ourselves think about falling.”

“I didn’t mean to—” he began.

She shook her head. “I’m not in love with you. I haven’t even decided if I want to collar you yet. And I know you’re not in love with me, either.

But, let’s face it, whatever happens in the future, neither of us is ever going to fall for the traditional, are we?”

Mark couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He’d been watching Olivia and listening to everything she said to those around her for months.

He already felt as if he knew her far better than any other woman he’d submitted to. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder what she’d say if he blurted out that he was pretty sure he was more than halfway in love with her already.

Somehow, he managed to keep the words back. His mouth was back under his control. His cock wasn’t.

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Chapter Four

Olivia was almost sure she felt Mark’s cock jerk beneath her foot as the seconds passed and their gazes lingered together. She took a sip of her wine, pleased that she’d been so right when she thought she saw potential in him—that had never been more obvious than it was in that moment.

“Take off the rest of your clothes.”

Mark held her gaze for several long moments, as if he thought he’d somehow be able to read her mind if he stared into her eyes for long enough. He had truly beautiful, chocolaty brown eyes. Coupled with his apparently habitual serious expression, they were captivating. Now, if only they were also coupled with obedience…

“Is there some problem?” she asked.

“No, miss.” Finally, he moved to the edge of the sofa cushion. This time, Olivia allowed him to stand. She watched his every movement as he carefully removed his clothes, folded them, and set them neatly aside.

His build was good, with lean lines of muscle clearly visible beneath nicely tanned skin. There was no way he could have effectively hidden his cock or balls away from her gaze. He didn’t even try.

Mark stood before Olivia, completely naked, entirely vulnerable. His shaft curved back toward his stomach, already fully-hard and flushed with arousal. A patch of neatly trimmed dark hairs covered the skin just above the base of his cock, but his balls had been shaved clean.

Olivia reached out with her free hand and cupped them in her palm.

There wasn’t even a hint of stubble to be found. She rolled the sac between

her fingers, enjoying the feel of it in her grip while she wondered if he’d used wax or a blade to achieve that finish.

Lifting her glass to her lips with her other hand, Olivia took another sip of wine. A bead of pre-cum formed on the tip of Mark’s erection.

“When was the last time you came?”

“Yesterday, miss.” No hesitation now. It didn’t even seem to occur to him to tell her it was none of her business.

“By your own hand?”

“Yes, miss.” His voice was deeper now, full of need and desire. But there was no impatience there, no indication that he had any inclination to take control of the situation.

Olivia smiled as she turned in her seat and settled her feet on the floor between them. Mark breathed a sigh of relief as she finally released his testicles and stopped teasing the sensitive flesh.

“You may sit down.”

He did so gingerly, apparently not used to being naked simply because it was someone’s whim that he should be. All her movements brisk and business-like, Olivia set down her glass, put her hands against his shoulders and pushed until his back rested firmly on the sofa cushions behind him.

It only took her another second or two to adjust her own position on the sofa so she could swing one leg over his lap and straddle him. Her skirt bunched up around her thighs with the motion, but it still covered her crotch. Mark’s body was the only one on display.

A pleasure-filled shiver ran down Olivia’s spine as she sensed him tense beneath her. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, not even when he had to have realized that her stockings were the only undergarments she wore that evening. He merely accepted her position above him as her right. That deserved a reward.

Dipping her head, she brought their mouths together for the first time.

Mark’s lips were firm, yet they were still pliant beneath hers. They opened at the first hint that she desired access and followed her lead without question. Olivia slipped her tongue past his lips, staking a claim to him as she took complete possession of his mouth.

Mark gasped as she nipped at his bottom lip.

His hands came to rest on her hips. He didn’t grope or try to take control; he just rested his hands there as if he was concerned that she might lose her balance if he didn’t keep her safe and steady.

Olivia almost laughed at the needless action. Reaching back, she caught hold of both his wrists, one in each hand. Acting with the complete confidence of experience, she easily pinned his arms to the sofa cushions on either side of his head.

He made no move to try to escape her hold. A little tension crept into his muscles though.

“Does that feel good?” she whispered the words against his cheek as she trailed her lips back to his ear, leaving her mark on him with her lipstick as she went.

Mark nodded, just once. Any apparent concern he might have had that she was angry about being touched disappeared. She released his wrists as she leaned back. “Keep your hands there.”

Picking up her handbag, she took out a condom. Packet opened, she reached down between them and deftly slid the latex down his shaft. He barely even seemed to breathe as he watched her fingers dance around his cock.

“Have you been taught how to control your orgasms?” Olivia asked.

“Think carefully before you answer.”

He finally managed a deep breath. His body already shook with the effort required for self-control, but he nodded. His hands remained pressed against the back sofa cushions on either side of his head.

Olivia smiled.

Lifting herself over his cock, she guided him inside her slit and slowly slid down his erection, until the full length of it was lodged deep inside her. Mark’s hips bucked slightly. He bit down on his bottom lip once more, but he still didn’t seem able to remain completely still.

Olivia stared down at his expression, soaking up every nuance and emotion he offered her like lifeblood. He might have been taught to control his orgasms, but he’d obviously never been taught how to control his expression while he was near the edge of his pleasure. Everything he felt was relayed directly to her by his eyes, and she thrived on it.

Mark was all hers. No agreement had been reached, no offers made or accepted. He wasn’t wearing her collar. Hell, they’d barely even introduced

themselves, but as she stared down into his eyes, she had no doubt that she held him in the palm of her hand. There was nothing he’d deny her.

That kind of submission deserved to be protected and cherished by a woman who could appreciate it—and the man who offered it to her.

Someone like herself…

All thoughts faded away as Mark half-thrust beneath Olivia, bringing her attention back to far more immediate concerns. Taking him at his word, she didn’t try to do anything that would help him maintain his control as she began to rock her hips.

Olivia left him to battle for self-control and, this time at least, merely concentrated on her own pleasure. She tightened internal muscles around his shaft enjoying the way the hard length of his erection filled her completely.

Mark gasped. His teeth gripped his bottom lip so fiercely he threatened to break the skin. His hands clenched into fists, the knuckles quickly turning white. Yet, he still kept his wrists pressed back against the cushions, his hips remained as still as he could keep them.

She reached out and wrapped her hands around his wrists in praise and saw the flash of pleasure rush across his expression in response.

“You like being pinned down, don’t you?” she whispered.

He nodded.

“Speak up,” she corrected.

Mark looked up. Their eyes met. “Yes, miss. I like being pinned down.” The words were spoken more loudly, each and every one clearly enunciated.

Olivia smiled as she rocked her hips.

“Good boy.” She tightened her grip on his wrists as she ground herself against him, rubbing her clit against the skin just above his cock. The short dark hairs there brushed against sensitive nerve endings, increasing the friction and pleasure of each movement.

Ripples of bliss radiated out from the little bud, flowing through her body, quickly building up as she increased her movements.

Easily balancing herself with her grip on Mark’s arms, Olivia began to ride him in earnest. Lifting herself, she almost rose all the way off the long, thick shaft before letting herself sink back down again until he was lodged in her to the hilt.

He groaned, pressing his head back against the sofa. Releasing his lip, he clamped his teeth together. The vein in his jaw pulsed. Somehow, he managed to remain relatively still. She relished the sight of him, but soon, her own pleasure was too much for her to ignore. Her eyes dropped closed.

Pure bliss raced through Olivia, making her whole body sing out. Her movements became jerkier as Mark’s cock rubbed against her g-spot again and again. She tossed back her head, bucking almost uncontrollably as she finally came, clenching tightly around Mark’s shaft as her orgasm rushed through her, filling her with strength and vigor, refreshing her after far too long spent worrying about work instead of pleasure.

Collapsing forward, she simply let herself rest against his body for a little while. His breaths were just as unsteady as hers. They were both caught in the moment. She had no doubt that they were both hoping this would be the first encounter of many.

There was really only one difference between them.

“Mark?” Olivia whispered softly in his ear, as she lifted her head.

He blinked open his eyes and looked up at her.

“You’re still not allowed to come.”

His eyes fell closed once more. She was pretty sure mental curses filled his head, even if he didn’t utter them aloud.

“Unless, of course…” Olivia mused.

Every muscle in Mark’s body tensed. Very slowly, he pried open his eyes again.

“If you aren’t interested in wearing my collar, there’s nothing to be gained in obeying me when I tell you not to come, is there?”

He swallowed rapidly. His fingers twitched above her grip on his wrists. “I…”

She stared down at him, studying his expression. His desperation was obvious. His need to come was clear. The only question now was if that was his deepest need, the one he most urgently needed to fulfill.

“Or would you prefer to submit to me?” she invited.

He nodded. He tried to speak, failed then tried again. “Yes, miss.”

She dipped her head and brushed their lips together. Unless she was very much mistaken, Mark had nothing to worry about. Olivia had no doubt he’d prove to be incredibly easy to fall in love with.

And, since he had been so good and had made the right choice, there was no rule saying she couldn’t let him have his orgasm, too.

Barely breaking the kiss, she whispered the word against his lips.

“Come.”

Mark obeyed beautifully.

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About the Author

Kim Dare is a twenty-eight year old, full time writer from Wales (UK).

First published in December 2008, Kim has since released over fifty BDSM

erotic romances. That means that well over one hundred characters have chattered away inside her head during that time—and that’s not even taking into account the fact that there are over three times that number of people clamoring in the wings for a chance to tell their stories. It’s no wonder she loses track of what’s happening in the “real” world at times…

While Kim’s stories range over male/male, male/female and all kinds of ménage relationships and have included vampires, time travelers, shape-shifters and fairytale re-tellings, they all have three things in common—

kink, love and a happy ending.

Kim loves to talk to her readers and can be found at www.kimdare.com.

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Transparent Illusions by Melinda Barron Freelance writer Saffron Tyler needs work. When she offers her journalistic skills to Steele Publications, they suggest that she spend two weeks as a submissive at Fingertip Fantasies, an exclusive BDSM resort that caters to the ultimate fantasies of any customer willing to pay for the high-end service. She’s been tasked to come back with a titillating exposé guaranteed to enthrall the readers of Steele’s underground magazine, Salacious.

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from the fact she doesn’t know where the resort is located, or anything about the man she is submitting to—except she’s to call him Master, with a capital M.

What starts out as an undercover assignment soon becomes so much more.

Immersed in the lifestyle, Saffron finds herself no longer acting the role of the submissive, but actually wanting to be the perfect sub her Master believes she can be. When all is said and done, will Saffron take her experience and her story and never look back? Or will she choose to stay with the man who commands her mind, body, and soul.

Heart of Ice by Brynn Paulin Kai is perfectly unhappy with his life. Cast into a role as shop boy and forced into marriage to save his family, he sees nothing good in his future.

In fact, his betrothed, Gerda, seems to hate everything he enjoys. Especially winter and his attraction to dominating his partners. His prospects look grim…until the Snow Queen arrives.

Wyn has spent her life alone, living vicariously through those who love winter. When she learns of Kai’s predicament, she knows she must save him. If only she could save herself. She craves his dominance, but there’s one tiny thing standing in their way. No human can touch her without experiencing chilly agony. And that might bring any relationship to an icy death.

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