My Lover, My Dom

Scarlett Nighte

Published by Quiver Publishing

Copyright 2012 Scarlett Nighte

Connor Rhodes swore he'd never forgive him, but after he ends up with nowhere else to go,
he finds himself face to face with the Dom who got away. Can the man he trusted with every
fiber of his being resist him if he falls to his knees? Can Connor let go of his anger and
submit to the man that broke his heart?

My Lover, My Dom contains explicit BDSM situations. All characters are 18+ and this title is
for adult audiences only. My Lover, My Dom is 5,467 words.

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your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

For Cole, the Dom who got away.

My Lover, My Dom

I had nowhere else to go.

I’d done everything right: football star at Edison High segued into a full ride to Vance State,
put in my time on the team, got my degree, and graduated in 4.5 years. Yet here I was, the
American dream more of a joke with almost a year out of school and still no job. No leads or
prospects, just spamming ads on CL and living off Oodles of Noodles. Until my landlord found
someone who could pay rent on time and kicked me to the curb.

Mom was abroad, having a mid-life crisis or finding herself or something another in Europe.
Following her would be a dream, since I’d been craving travel since I studied in Spain a few
semesters back, but she couldn’t afford it and my savings account was bone dry. So there was
just Victor. Even though we hadn’t ended things on the best of terms. But like I said…nowhere
else to go.

I walked up the steps to the front door, my legs filled with lead. I’d sat in my Jeep for damn
near an hour, trying to work up the courage to face him. To face the man I’d once said I’d
never forgive for what he’d done.

I sucked in a deep breath and punched the doorbell. I stood there, glancing around the porch
I’d walked on a million times. Sturdy oak boards fleshed out beneath my feet, as strong as his
chest, every muscle taut as he stood over me. The squeak of the old screen door mimicked
the sounds I made, whimpers of pain as he dealt out bouts of dominance to my body, making
me ache in places I never knew existed and in turn, giving me satisfaction that was in a
league of its own.

To the right, directly before the wood porch wrapped around to the side of the house, there
was the swing I’d helped him build. As a gust of wind whipped around me, it swayed gently in
the breeze, taking me back.

I’d been twelve then, suspicious of the beefy man that lived next door yet seemed to spend
more time at my house than his own. It was his idea, a little project, just he and I. When we
finished, we’d sat on the solid wood, rocking slowly as the sun crept down past the horizon.
After I promised to keep a secret, he let me take a sip of his beer. He told me that he’d been
best friends with my father, back before he died on the job. One robbery gone awry, and one
bullet had shattered my family. Victor stepped into the void, throwing the football with me
around the yard every now and then, doing handyman things around the house. His wife was
probably less than thrilled that he took such an interest in the family next door, but they’d
divorced years ago.

I squared my shoulders as I heard the click clack as the deadlock disengaged and he pulled
open the door. I took him in, seething with frustration.

It wasn’t fair. Almost twelve years had passed since that day and he still hit me in the chest
with one look. Deep set, brown eyes that were always looking, always seeing. A round nose,
nostrils flaring as he stood tall in the doorway. Strong jawline, striking out to plush, thick lips.
His dark hair had a smattering of gray at the temple, but he didn’t look old. No—coupled with
his button down shirt, lean body cut beneath, and dark wash jeans, he looked distinguished.
And sexy as hell.

“Connor.” His baritone voice made butterflies dance in my gut. “It’s been awhile.”

I buried the nostalgic attraction and hardened my jaw. I couldn’t just disregard the baggage
between us. The hurt was still too fresh, no matter how I burned for him. “Yes it has.”

He crossed his muscular arms, glancing past me to my car. “You need help bringing anything
in?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Right now I just wanna pass out. I’ll get it later.”

I pushed past him, forcing my body to not react when my arm brushed against his. Truth was,
I didn’t want to ask anything of him, especially with all the things we didn’t say to each
other. But it was all in the way we danced around each other, stealing glances when we
thought the other wasn’t looking.

Even though he lived alone and the place lacked a woman’s touch, the house still had a
warm, welcoming feel. Not much had changed aesthetically. Same dark furnishings contrasted
with crisp, clean walls. Happy family portraits, sparkling floors, candles burning. Considering
Victor spent most of his day locked in his office writing the next Great American Novel, it was
hard to believe the place wasn’t in disarray.

The door snapped closed behind me and he let out a chuckle as he breezed past, picking up
on my shock. “I have someone that cleans a couple of times a week. This-” He made a grand
gesture. “-is definitely not all me.”

“Of course not,” I said acidly. “You couldn’t possibly clean up after yourself. Being the
master and all.” I put my emphasis on the ‘M’ word, sharpening it before I sent it shuttling his
way.

When he whipped his head to the side and took me in, his eyes smoldered. Good. He wasn’t
used to being called out. From the way he pursed his lips to a razor thin line, it was clear he
was even less prepared for my flippant disregard of that word after what we’d been through.

He sucked in all the oxygen in the room before letting out a weary sigh. “Let’s not go there,
Connor.”

“No,” I snapped back defiantly, straightening my spine. I wasn’t gonna ignore or cater to the
elephant in the room. I’d landed squarely in the restricted area and I refused to budge.

His eyes narrowed, but his voice was calm. “You’re still stuck on that? After all this time?”

“Damn right.”

“Holding onto it for dear life?”

I took a step toward him. I’d told myself that I’d play nice. After all, he could have said no
when I asked if I could move back home. Hell, considering for the past year he’d acted like
just talking to me would bring on the apocalypse, I was surprised he said yes in the first
place.

But being with him brought everything crashing back. All the things I’d experienced at his
hand. The way he tore me down to nothing to rebuild me as something stronger. Something
new. The contract that he’d trashed without batting an eye.

I had three words I wanted to say to him that expressed all the hurt that festered in me since
he put an end to what we had. So I said them.

“I trusted you!”

My bellow echoed through the house, ringing in my ears, in my heart. I clenched and
unclenched my fists, my biceps flexing. Hours of hitting the weights, trying to run from the
fact that he’d done a number on me, but not able to keep it from swallowing me whole. He’d
used me, then ended things so abruptly. Like I meant nothing. Like what we’d done meant
nothing.

He threw his hands up in exasperation before facing me. “What do you want me to say,
Connor? That I’m sorry? That I wish that things were different? That I’d never gone to you that
night? That we’d never begun in the first place?!”

His words were like a lash, coiling back and snapping the tension in the room before hitting its
mark and burning into my soul. They were a reminder of the biggest issue, the thing that
made me bury my cock in countless pussy and ass in the Greater Vance area, pumping and
thrusting and running from the hurt. But now that I was home, I had to face it. I missed him.
As my Master. As my lover.

He stood there, strong and immovable. He’d obviously gotten by just fine. Did he even miss
me?

He finally moved to action, walking over to the sectional in the living room and easing down
into it. He moved so fluidly, turning something as simple as walking into something
enthralling. I could see his strength rippling in his stride, making a flutter of want settle in my
groin.

How did he do it, turn a sofa into a throne? His energy, his presence—everything about him
screamed power and virility. I’d thought if I focused on my anger, my sense of betrayal when
he ended things a year ago, that it would be easier to weather this. The hurt should have
been enough to dull any tide of lust that he evoked. After I’d made the decision to move

home, I decided the only way it would work was if I showed him that I didn’t care, even if it
was all an act.

But he’d nurtured my inner submissive, watering the seeds in me. I was a linebacker, hell
they called me “The Fridge”. All six feet and 210 pounds of muscle of me didn’t fit the
stereotype. When Victor put a word to my innate desire, I’d done research. Most of the subs
I’d encountered consisted of small statured men, cowering and sniveling. It’d been hard to
see myself in them. But I couldn’t deny the wants that coursed through me. I wanted to sink
to my knees, even though he infuriated me. I wanted to serve him.

He looked over at me, and it took all I had to not rush to him. His eyes were pained. “Connor,
we can’t. What we did-”

“Was amazing,” I cut in. I moved forward, sitting a few feet from him. “We were both adults.
You stirred something in me, Victor, something I can’t find anywhere else.”

He shook his head. “There are plenty of Dominants that would die for such a hungry sub.” He
ran a hand through his ebony hair and broke his gaze. “I’d even be willing to help you find
someone.”

“I don’t want someone,” I said adamantly. The next bit hurt to admit, but there it was. I’d
already thrown my plan, Operation Icebox, out the window. I may as well put it all on the
table. “I want you, Victor.” I swallowed. “I need you.” I slid closer. “Please let me serve
you.”

He popped to his feet, creating some distance. “We can’t do it, Connor. It’s not right-”

“It’s too late for that!” I growled, slicing the air and cutting through his argument. “You
should have thought about that before you came to me that night!”

That night. Christmas break. Me and this pretty blonde thing named Melissa. I’d thought she
was coming around. She was pretty vanilla, but open to trying things. I’d repackaged my
needs as role-play, getting her to spank and degrade me before she freaked out.

We’d been at my house and I’d followed her out to the pool. She cried, saying that she felt
weird and why couldn’t we just have normal sex? I’d taken offense and told her to fuck off. If
she was weirded out by name calling, she’d never accept my bisexuality. I’d sat out on the
patio alone, blowing smoke rings and trying to stomach the feeling that I’d never find my
match—someone that truly got me.

Victor was sleeping on the couch because of a string of break ins in the neighborhood to give
my mother peace of mind. He had come out and told me that he overheard our argument. I’d
tried to laugh it off as nothing. After all, I was a red blooded male to most of the world, as
was Victor. And then he’d reached over and gripped my thigh. My knee-jerk reaction was to
say something cringe worthy.

“I’m not a fag.”

Neither was he. He didn’t like labels. He’d ordered me to my feet. I hesitated, but the
command tone in his voice made my cock swell in my pants. Once I was up, he told me to get
on my knees and suck him off.

He Dominated me, calling me a cock slut, a cum lover, slapping me with his massive erection,
owning me, lording power over me. It had been one of the best nights of my life…and the
beginning of a whirlwind affair. Months of training, earth shattering sex and orgasms. And
then one day it was over. We were over. I didn’t even have any say in the matter.

Well, I’d be damned if I didn’t have any say now.

“How do you not know what you mean to me?” I asked hoarsely. “How you saved me?”

“Connor-”

“No.” I stood up. I wasn’t finished. Not even close. “Don’t tell me what we did, what we had
was wrong. Maybe it’s the lie that kept me scraping together pennies rather than moving
home sooner or maybe it helps you sleep at night.” I stepped closer. “But I don’t sleep—
because when I close my eyes, I see you staring down at me on my knees.” His lips quivered
as I moved closer. “I see your dick hard and leaking delicious cum from your slit. I dream
about you, about us. Don’t you dare lie to me and say it was all in my head. And don’t insult
me by saying you don’t think about me.”

We were nose to nose. He smelled like Ivory soap and Newports. I knew it was bold, but I
reached out and landed squarely on the crotch of his jeans. I needed to know if it really was
over. I swallowed a moan when I felt his swell beneath his jeans.

I was so taken aback by the thought that I held such a stark disproval of his words. He wanted
me. It was right there in the palm of my hand.

“Let me serve you, damn it,” I said, breathlessly stroking, egged on by the curve of him
pulsing in my hand. “Dominate me.”

His mouth opened an inch and when his eyes flashed, I half expected him to say it was over. I
stood silent, trembling as he moved closer. He brushed my thick hair from my eyes. My nerves
were as tight as bow strings, waiting with bated breath for the inevitable shut down. But he
surprised me.

“I see you’re out of practice, slut,” he whispered. “You forget your place.”

My whole body screeched a resounding yes. “Teach me. Bend me to your will, Master.”

He brought his hand to my cheek, caressing it nice and slow. “How I’ve missed you.”

He reared back and slapped me across the face. I doubled over with surprise. Pain crept
across my face, tingling and delicious. God I missed that feeling. Nothing else came close.

He stood tall. My lover. My Dom. “Take off your goddamn clothes.”

****

I stood before him, the way I was born to be. Naked. Bare. A blank canvas for him to fill as he
saw fit.

I knew the drill and had automatically assumed the position. My hands were folded behind my
back, my head bowed. Every muscle in me craved him, wanted him. When he stopped in front
of me, it was painful to keep my eyes downward. I just wanted a peek of his fierce eyes
boring into me.

Jesus. I was out of practice.

"Your safe word," he said smoothly. "What is it?"

"S-stars."

"Louder, slut."

"Stars," I said, more assertively. It was the same it had always been. 'Stars' because the night
we spent together a year ago, when I’d been Dominated for the first time, was the first I'd
seen them in a long time. As we dipped into the hot tub, my back, my ass, bloomed red and
stinging from the belt he'd used. I sighed with relief from the warm jets as I gazed up at the
sky. He'd run his calloused hands all over me, promising that it was the start of something
special. That with my permission, and willingness to explore my submissive nature, he would
show me wonders. He would be my Dom.

He created a circuit around me, inspecting me, up and down. I was a puppet, he a puppeteer,
allowing him to lift my arms and move me as he reacquainted himself with my body.

"No bruising," he mused after a moment. "Have you been practicing?"

I went to shake my head but remembered he hated nonverbal communication and opened my
mouth to respond. "No." As soon as I forgot a key part of addressing him, the lash landed on
my ass. His bare hand against my flesh sent a rash of hurt through my rear. My cock thumped.

"No, what?"

"No Sir."

"Good boy." He took the hand that dealt my punishment and ran it over my shoulders, dancing
over my collarbones. "But I know you've been with others. Buried that hungry cock in any
pussy and asshole that would allow it. Correct?"

"Yes Sir."

His hand trailed down my sternum, detouring at my nipples. He took the right one and gave it
a hearty squeeze. He pulled at the peak and pain shot through his fingertips to my center,
blossoming over my naked body. When I cried out, he released it and gave my ass another
smack. It was a resounding one that made me dig my toes into the carpet. It floundered in
the same spot as the other.

He tried it again. His fingers became pincers, squeezing my swollen nipple until I gritted my
teeth to keep from crying out again. The part of me that was out of practice screamed that it
was too much, that he was gonna wrench it from my body, but the heart of me shushed it and
just as I squeezed my eyes shut from the pain he released it.

Trust, Connor—Trust. He pushed me to my limit, but never exceeded it. He would never put
more on me than I could bear.

The other nipple was next, flicking, twisting until it stood as hard as my cock, then pinching
until I clenched back and in the pain found something beautiful and liberating. When he
pulled back I let out a silent sigh of relief. Strangely, when it was over, I missed the contact,
the burn of pain. My nipples ached for him. I wanted more, but I knew not to ask. He'd decide
when I needed more.

I gasped when his hand dropped to my erection, but his fingers glided over it to my ball sack.
He rolled them around in his palms, tugging and massaging them. I knew my cock was oozing
precum. With one word, I could shoot my load.

"You will not come," he said firmly. "Not until I say so. Understood?"

"Yes Sir."

He hummed, his moan locked between his lips. With his body so close to mine, still fully
clothed while I was naked, it was just a form of Domination. I was raw and exposed.
Completely at his mercy.

"Tell me about the last person you fucked,” he said after a moment.

My cheeks instantly went red at the thought. It'd been a guy. A freshman. "W-what do you
want to know, Sir?"

"Everything."

I swallowed the knot in my throat. He'd never asked about others before. And the number he
was doing on my balls made it hard to speak, and doubly so to think and recall my last
hookup. What did it matter anyway? None of the others I'd been with measured up in the end.
They were only distractions. Fleeting moments of escape so I could get Victor out of my head.
Even if it was only until I came.

And his hands--he was kneading and pulling at my balls, sending sparks of pain and pleasure
crashing in and out of me as I stood still as stone. This was my exercise. Giving control over to

him while finding my own, reining in my pleasure even though my balls were filled and ready
to empty.

One of his hands released my balls and stood poised over my throbbing nipple. "Do you need
incentive? If my fingers don’t do the trick, I can always get the clamps."

"No Sir," I said quickly. I closed my eyes and went back. Two weeks ago, just after my
landlord gave me notice about the new tenant. "He's a freshman at Vance State. He emailed
me when he saw my profile on Adult Friend Finder."

Victor let out a chuckle deep in his throat, his palm sliding back down and cupping my sack
tightly. "You still troll that place, huh?"

My nostrils flared. What choice did I have? It was that or Craigslist. I mean, I definitely wasn't
gonna hit up the bars or anything. I took a breath to calm myself before continuing. Did he
get some sort of pleasure from this? Seeing what he drove me to? "Yes Sir."

His hand rewound to my cock and he stroked the full length, his finger flicking over the head,
diving into the slit. "With a cock like this, I know you have no problem getting plenty of
replies. What was different about the freshman? How did he stick out from all the other fish
in the sea?"

"He said that he wanted to explore his dominant side."

His hands froze for a moment. I longed to look into his eyes. Would I find guilt there? Because
without using the precise words, I’d told him that I’d gone with the freshman because I was
looking, searching for him.

I kept talking. "So he hosted. I went to his apartment.”

“And then?”

“I was worried about awkward small talk, but we got right down to it."

Victor cleared his throat. "Did you, kiss?"

"Yes Sir," I answered quietly. I gulped as he stepped back and began taking off his clothes. I
only saw the cream carpet, but I heard the zip of his fly.

"A-And then he told me to get down on my knees and suck his cock." There was his bundle of
jeans. I saw him kick them away.

"Look at me, slut."

My neck muscles ached as I slowly raised my head. His face was dark as he reached out and
grabbed my chin. His fingers dug into my flesh as he looked me dead on. "You played safely
with this freshman, didn't you slut?"

"Yes Sir," I sad truthfully. It had ruined the heat, but I insisted on a condom before I sunk to
my knees. There was only one man that I gave my body wholly to and let him go bareback.
Victor.

I saw the approval glitter in his onyx eyes and he released me and went to work on his shirt.
His fingertips skated over the clear discs, going button after button. "Good. Continue."

I continued my tale. "I got down on my knees and sucked him off."

"Did he have a big cock?"

"It was average size, Sir. Maybe five, five and a half inches erect. But the girth was massive. I
had to stretch the sides of my mouth as far as they could go."

My eyes darted down and I saw the curve of him. He did have a big cock. Eight inches and
good and thick and veiny. It was still masked by his boxer briefs, the intimate fabric guarding
my ultimate destination. I longed to free him of it. He just needed to say the words.

"Take out my cock," he ordered, his voice laced with lust.

Licking my lips, I leaned forward and uncoiled his wood, circling the root of it with my hand.
God, it felt good to have him in my hands. Like destiny. Like it should have always been this
way.

"Jerk me off," he said thickly. "Nice and slow. And tell me where he came."

I slid my hand up and down his erection, savoring the lick of his precum against my flesh. "I-I
got him close then he pulled off the condom. I leaned back and he stepped close, jerking
until-" My words caught in my throat as Victor leaned forward and gripped my cock, gliding up
and down my swollen shaft.

He squeezed it, steering me back on track. "Until what?"

"Until he came, Sir."

"Mmm," he moaned, biting his lips. "I bet you loved that, eh? Loved all that cum?"

"Y-yes Sir."

"And then?"

"That was it. He said he had to work on a paper, and I went to wash off my face and left."

“He didn’t attend to your needs after his were met?”

“No Sir.”

"Huh," he grunted. "He has a lot to learn before he deserves a submissive like you."

His words sent a wave of pride coursing over me. I'd been pissed then, going home unfulfilled.
It was heaven to be with a proper Dom again. To be with him again.

"But you'll have to work for your treat." He leaned forward and with heavy hands pushed me
down, toward the floor. To my knees. "Show me that mouth can do more than disrespect and
suck off unworthy cocks."

It was almost a crime it was so far from punishment. His erection jutted out from his bush of
wiry, midnight hair, juices seeping out, sticky and hot. I breathed in the aroma of his arousal
as I moved toward it, lips parted. But when his hands gripped a lock of my hair, his hold was
so tight that my scalp cried out in pain and I remembered that this was not just for my
benefit. This would be more than a blowjob. With this, he would use my hole and retrain me
and mark me as his own.

His meat slid in the O of my mouth, dividing and conquering it. He held tight to me as he
moved in and out, building up a rhythm. He started off slowly, plunging in then sliding back
out before he sped up the beat, his balls slapping my chin as he jammed his cock as far as it
would go. I breathed through my nose and closed my eyes. The air came petering in and I
tried to savor it, giving it all over to him. I could choke, suffocate with him inside me, and I’d
die happy. He was in control, and I loved it.

He yanked my head back and his cock, slick with my spit, hung at eye level. “Get up and go
bend over the couch.”

“Yes Sir,” I said, probably a bit too eagerly. My body was ecstatic because the cock that had
just plugged my mouth was gonna go deeper. He was gonna take my ass.

I moved swiftly to the chaise and prepared, knees down, spine curved, ass ready. I could tell
he’d left the room, it seemed too quiet, too still. But he was back before I had a moment to
steel my nerves. I tilted my head, but his voice was razor sharp.

“Keep your eyes on the wall,” he barked. “Just think about the reaming you’re about to get.”

I heard the plastic click as he flipped the lid of something, followed by a wet jolt. Lube.

His hand was cool against the curve of my bottom as he spread open my cheeks and took a
finger and probed my anus. The puckered lips squeezed his digit tight and he let out a moan
that rocked me to the core. I wanted to moan too, but not without his permission. Never
without his permission.

Reading my mind, he caressed me with his firm hand. “You can moan, slut. I want to hear
how I make you feel.”

When his finger dove back inside my hole, my moans mirrored his own. “God, it feels good,
Master. Work my ass….work it!”

“I’m about to fill up that ass,” he said huskily. “Give you what you’ve been starving for.”

“Yes,” I groaned. “Oh yes.” I gripped the corner as I felt his fingertips grip me tightly as he
spread my cheeks, paving the way. The stiff knob of his cock worked my entrance, swirling in
my juices as he situated himself.

It’d been months since I had a cock in my ass, and even longer since I had the right cock. He
breached me and a gulf of pain not unlike the pain of my licks for being headstrong or the
nipple torture settled in my bones. It was a searing, white hot thing that took my breath
away. I clenched my ass and was met with a resounding slap. No words were needed. The slap
meant to relax. The slap meant to trust him, that he’d never hurt me unnecessarily. With
that trust, he’d take me to that blissful place where the line between pain and fear blurred,
leaving only ecstasy.

He moved slow, rocking in and out and I gave in and found it--the peace that comes with
being a sub and trusting of a good Dom. The freedom of giving yourself over to your Master.
Once I let go, the pleasure mingled and transformed the pain. Our flesh smacked together,
colliding with our moans of delight.

My head fell back, spine aching as he filled me to the brim. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing
on inch after painful inch of him. If I didn’t love being used, I’d pull away, cry out for him to
take it easy. Instead, I tightened the mouth of my ass, clenching every muscle I could control.
I wanted to draw him in as deep as he could go.

“You like that, don’t you slut?” he grunted, drilling me in steady succession. “You like to have
that tight ass used, don’t you?”

He was balls deep in my ass and my yes came out as a purr of satisfaction. My whole body
screeched my approval. Yes, over and over again.

“Whose ass is this?” he thundered.

I arched against him, giving into his thrusts. “Yours, Master. Yours!”

He braced himself against me as he pistoned in and out, fucking me into submission. I sunk
my fingertips into the plush cushion, giving into fate.

“I’m gonna cum,” he said thickly. He tightened his grip as he slammed harder and let out a
grunt as he emptied his desire in my tight channel. He filled me with his sperm and my thirsty
need swallowed it.

I longed to come--my balls, my body ached for release. He wheeled me around, his face
glowing and strong from orgasm. He sat me down on the edge of the chaise. My cock stood up
straight and he surprised me by sinking to his knees. I knew to not say a word and to take this
for what it was—a gift.

His tongue darted around the head of my penis, swirling like a merry go round until my eyes
glazed with pleasure. I was clenching and unclenching, trying to stem the climax that
threatened to engulf us both.

His mouth opened and he let out a moan. A single thrust and he gulped my entire erection,
swallowing me before moving back up. I clenched my thigh muscles as he moved up and down
my staff, expanding for the straining stiffness. Everything I had diverted to my cock. I had to
remind myself that he was the gatekeeper. My release would only come from his lips, and his
alone.

When he pulled up, his eyes, intent, he said the magic words. “You may come.”

I took my wood and barely jerked before it erupted like a volcano, cum spilling over my
fingers. Once I regained the ability to speak, I thanked him. “Thank you, Master.”

He ruffled my hair affectionately. “That’s a good slut.” He turned and walked to the hallway
closet, returning with a towel in hand.

He handed it to me. “Connor.”

My name. We were done. I took it and wiped the juices from my hands, from my crotch. It
was funny. I’d longed to look at him, but now that we were done, the hollow anger returned
and the sight of him was too much to bear.

He lowered himself to the cushion beside me, reaching out and grazing my thigh. “I shouldn’t
have ended things the way I did.”

I kept my eyes downward.

“Look at me, Connor.”

I stuck my lip out stubbornly, before slowly meeting his gaze. Midnight eyes, with flecks of
hazel that glittered like stars.

“I don’t know what the future holds for us,” he said after a moment, “But we’re gonna figure
all of this out. Together.”

###

About Scarlett Nighte

When she’s not dreaming up twisted short tales that simultaneously disturb,

arouse, and freak readers out, Scarlett (with two T’s!) watches an unhealthy amount

of porn and dreams of opening her own dungeon someday.

Scarlett writes intense, taboo, and graphic erotica because she likes to explore

the dark corners of her mind and the human psyche. She’s always pushing boundaries

and hopes that the open minded reader can appreciate her twisted tales.

Connect with Scarlett online at

http://ascarlettnighte.tumblr.com

or via email at

[e-mail]

.