An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Promise for Now

ISBN 9781419915086

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Promise for Now Copyright © 2008 Diana Hunter

Edited by Pamela Campbell.
Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication April 2008

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in
part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing,

Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales

is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

PROMISE FOR NOW

Diana Hunter

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the

following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Grateful Dead: Grateful Dead Productions Corp.

Chapter One

“Well, there. Now it’s final and he’s out of the house. Good riddance!”

“Susan, stop it. Mike and I had twenty-five good years. He was—is—still a good

man.” Carol Iderman pulled her SUV into Susan’s driveway, suddenly desperate to get
rid of her best friend. Her head pounded and she wondered just why she had felt the

need for someone to go with her to the lawyer’s office to sign the divorce papers. Susan
wanted to celebrate and all Carol wanted to do was go crawl under a rock and cry. “We
just married too young. And with Mike Jr. and Alexa both out of college and on their

own now…well, it’s better this way.”

“Yeah, put a good face on it for everyone else, woman. Not for me. I know all the

gory details, remember? The cheating, the arguments? Personally? I’m thrilled you
finally wised up. You spent the best years of your life with that lying cheat.” Susan
opened the passenger door and got out, getting in one last comment before she shut the

door and righteously stalked into her expensive suburban home. “Stop looking at the
past through rose-colored glasses, Carol or you’ll make the same mistakes again.”

Carol watched Susan’s exit, keeping a stranglehold on her emotions. She put the

SUV into reverse, drove to the other side of the suburban development and pulled into
her own garage. The overhead door whirred and clicked, descending behind her. Still

gritting her teeth, she dismounted from the huge car that Mike had talked her into
when all she had wanted was a small runabout. He claimed the vehicle would be far
safer for her on the highways and never mind the money—they had enough. For Carol,

it wasn’t about the money—it was the size of the darn thing. While she wasn’t tiny by
any means, the SUV still wasn’t easy for her to manage. She had perfected a little twist-
hop that allowed her to get down fairly gracefully and it irked her every time she had to

do it.

She did it now, landing on the clean cement floor of the garage. Who in their right

mind had clean garage floors? Where were the grease spots left by leaky motors or

peeled rubber tracks from the kid’s bicycles? Where were the broken skates and loose
basketballs that always got underfoot?

They were on another floor in another garage, one not attached to an expensive

home but one that was all by itself—a different garage behind a different house. That
well-used garage sat away from the driveway, its sides canted at odd angles looking

like its best years were long ago. It held secrets and cubbyholes and had paint circles on
the floor from the iron coffee table she’d bought used and had repainted. A little elbow
grease and spray paint and the thing had looked charming out on the large porch.

Then they’d moved out of the city—and the suburbs had no need for old garages or

large porches. The wrought iron table had been sold along with so many other
memories.

Her eyes filled with the tears she had yet to shed and Carol fled. Not into the cold

“home” Mike had insisted they buy two years ago because he’d become so important

that living inside the city limits wasn’t fashionable enough. Not back into the awful
SUV she drove because it was all she had. No, she fled to the backyard and to the only
place she’d ever really called her own in this upscale suburban development. Her gaze

only briefly ran to the yard right behind hers, a yard owned by a man she’d often
thought of in her fantasies, but who, until now, had been off limits. And while she
understood the new possibilities, right now she still grieved the destruction of her first

love.

Tucked into a back corner of their full-acre lot sat a little dollhouse of a storage

shed, its proportions dictated by the housing tract rules, its outside décor one of three

she’d been allowed to choose from. With a full two-car garage, Mike hadn’t seen the
need for a shed in the backyard at all. Carol had added it to the list as just one more

thing he never really understood about her. Fitting the key into the lock, she opened the
small double doors and inhaled the scent of fresh earth and sanity.

“Best years of her life.” Susan’s words echoed in her soul. Were the years she had

spent with Mike the best years she’d ever see? They’d married for the hot sex and

flames of passion. Two kids into the marriage, the flames had died down and
eventually even the embers cooled, leaving little to sustain their relationship. Mike had

turned from her birth-ravaged body to find the heat again in another woman’s
arms…and then another’s…and another’s. Carol’s well of self-esteem, never
overflowing to begin with, sank each time Mike came home smelling of someone else’s

perfume and looking sated and relaxed.

With her self-esteem now fallen to the level of her ankles, Carol sat in her little doll-

house of a garden shed and cried herself to sleep.

* * * * *

On the street behind Carol’s, Brian Stockbridge stood in his kitchen and looked at

the pile of dirty dishes he’d accumulated after a week spent doing research. He always
got this way when working on a book. Each time he started a new project, he’d spend

time gathering every scrap of information he could find that might provide useful
background for his story. Then he’d spend as few as five or as many as twelve days—
his record—totally immersing himself into the world his characters would inhabit.

Nothing penetrated his concentration as he explored every aspect of the world taking
shape in his imagination. His ex-wife had often complained that she could set off a

bomb next to him while he was in research mode and he’d never even notice. After
setting off several bombs, she had finally grown tired of his mental departures and had
made a departure of her own. That had been a little over two years ago and Brian had

barely noticed.

Except when it came to housework. He didn’t mind doing it as a rule. When he was

writing, however, he entered another world where reality ceased to exist and the dishes

he used for microwavable meals and take-out Chinese became unimportant trivia.
Seven days worth of dirty plates, cereal bowls and aluminum tin trays lay scattered
around his kitchen, filling the sink and running amok over the countertops. A nearly

empty milk carton sat beside the refrigerator where he’d poured himself a glass and
then forgotten to put the carton back.

Unable to ignore the mess any longer, Brian dumped the sour milk down the drain

and gathered the dishes into a pile beside the sink. Tempted as he was to hire a maid to

come clean up after him, he knew the housework was good for his soul. Kept him
grounded. Or it did when he came up for air.

Running water into the sink and squirting in a whole lot of dish soap, Brian glanced

out his kitchen window, then did a double take as he looked across his backyard
toward the Idermans’ shed. A high-heeled foot stuck out the door. That would be
Carol’s! Frantically searching for his cell phone, he rifled through several week-old

newspapers and threw them aside, found a clean pile of laundry he’d done a week ago
and forgotten about underneath them and discovered his extra set of car keys that he’d
lost before he finally managed to find his cell on the counter hiding behind the toaster.

Running out the door and across his backyard, he dialed 911 as he went.

As his fingers punched out the numbers, he called out across the distance. “Carol!

Carol, are you all right?” Brian cursed the fact that he couldn’t run as fast at forty-five as
he had in high school. His records might all be behind him, yet he still managed to vault
the low chain-link fence that separated their yards in one leap even as he heard the

operator’s voice coming from his cell.

“Yeah, I’m Brian Stockbridge. My neighbor’s down…her address is 855

Honeysuckle Lane. Wait…” He’d reached the shed of the door. Carol lay with her head

pillowed on one arm, the other arm tucked up neatly underneath her. One leg curled up
as well but the other had stretched out, the foot visible from his window.

“I’m with her now. She’s in the shed in the backyard.” Brian bent down and

touched her shoulder, reaching for her wrist to check for a pulse. When she started, he
jumped, almost dropping the phone in his surprise. “Carol? Carol, are you all right?”

“Brian?” She looked up at him sleepily, her tear-stained face filling in a lot of

information without her needing to say a word. She shook her head. “I must’ve fallen

asleep.”

Brian sat back on his heel, heaving a sigh of relief. “You’re all right?”

“Yes, of course I am. I just…” Her voice trailed off and she made a feeble gesture at

the gardening tools. Brian nodded and spoke into his phone.

“Okay, apparently I reacted too fast. Sorry. She’d fallen asleep.” He shook his head.

“No, don’t need any assistance. Thank you for your time.” Hanging up, he made a
mental note to send a large donation to the ambulance corps to make up for calling
before making sure there was an actual emergency.

He wouldn’t have jumped the gun for any other person, he knew. But that was

Carol’s foot that had been lying out there. Carol, two years his junior, who had raised a
family and been torn from the home she loved in the city to come out here into the

soulless suburbs. Ever since she and her husband had moved in behind him, Brian had
watched her. The innate sexuality she didn’t even realize she had, the way she looked

with that big floppy hat on when she was gardening, the way she bent over to pick up
the clothes when doing the laundry. God, the woman was hard to resist. Especially
since his own wife had left him for someone who spent more time in the real world.

Brian had encouraged Carol to confide in him, each conversation with her making

him more and more intrigued with this woman who so obviously felt out of place
among the soccer mom crowd. And then that husband of hers would walk into the

backyard with a proprietary scowl on his face and Brian knew better than to push her.
He didn’t think Michael had gotten physically abusive, yet Brian was pretty sure
Carol’s lack of faith in herself came from him. Instead Brian remained at a safe distance,

encouraging Carol to use him as vent friend while keeping out of Michael’s sight,
secretly lusting after the beautiful woman so unappreciated by her career-climbing

husband.

A month ago, Michael had dropped out of sight and Carol had stopped the

confidences, becoming distant and aloof. She’d hurry right into the house even when

Brian knew she’d seen him working in his yard, where before she’d make some excuse
to linger so they could exchange more than a few friendly words. While at first Carol

had been a pleasant distraction when he needed a break from his writing, over the years
she’d become a friend and her sudden cold shoulder confused him.

Today, however, none of that mattered. She was in trouble and he literally had

leapt to her rescue. “So you want to tell me why you’ve taken to sleeping in the shed?”
He held out a hand and she took it, the warmth of her sleep where her hand had
cuddled her cheek still clinging to her fingers.

The smile she gave him, tremulous and self-deprecating, was the same smile she

gave when making excuses for Michael. All at once Brian didn’t care if the man was his
neighbor. If he’d been in the yard, Brian would have decked him.

“I…Brian, I know I’ve been a little stand-offish lately…” She ducked her head again

and Brian put his fingers under her chin to see her face.

“What’s wrong, Carol?”

“The divorce is final.”

Brian took a step back in surprise. Although he’d encouraged her to consider

leaving Michael, he’d never thought she’d have the courage to go through with it. She’d
tried once before and had backed down before the final act. Did she mean it? Was she
really free?

“Completely? As in the two of you are no longer legally married?”

“Completely. I just came from the courthouse.”

She should be celebrating and instead she looked as if she’d just lost her best friend.

Which, in a way, she had. A friend who had ceased to exist a long time ago, yet her
heart was just getting around to understanding that. Although Brian wanted

desperately to pull her into his arms and give her the kiss he’d been holding inside for

such a long time, he kept his distance, feeling his way around her psyche. “Are you
okay?”

Her smile this time had more strength behind it. “Actually, I am. Now. I just needed

a good cry.” She gestured around the shed and Brian realized the rest of the story.

“And now that you’ve done that? What’s next?”

Carol put her head down again, twisting her fingers in the way Brian had seen her

do when talking about Michael. “I don’t really know.” He watched her glance at the

house and saw the disgust in her eyes. “I hate that place, you know.”

“You have since you moved in.”

“But it’s mine now. I took it and the SUV in place of alimony.” She shuddered. “I

want him out of my life. I don’t want to see him or hear him or even hear of him
for…for…for a very long time!”

She slammed her foot down for emphasis, which made Brian chuckle. “I promise

you, he’s not a topic of conversation I will ever bring up.”

For the first time since he’d pulled her from the shed floor, Carol actually looked

him full in the eye. The effect was electric. He wanted to kiss her. Right now. After two
years, he didn’t want to wait even a single second longer. In a single movement, he
swept her into his arms, knowing she fit perfectly even as his lips descended.

Carol felt her breath catch and her knees threaten to buckle as Brian’s kiss poured

out months of frustration. She’d longed for exactly this moment, her desires kept

hidden lest Michael discover her lust for their neighbor and use it against her. With her
own ardent reply to his kiss, she let Brian know exactly where she stood.

“Oh, Brian, I missed seeing you so much,” she breathed in the brief hiatus before

his mouth covered hers again. Her arms encircled his neck as he pushed her against the
outside wall of the shed and she opened her lips willingly when his tongue lightly

brushed against them.

But instead of pressing his advantage, Brian suddenly stepped back as if he’d

touched something incredibly hot. He dropped his hands to his sides, his face a mask.

“I’m sorry, Carol. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?” Her lips burned from his kiss and she wanted more.

“You just divorced your husband an hour ago. To take advantage of you now

would be…well…” His voice trailed off.

“Would be wonderful,” she finished for him. “Brian, I’m not nearly as vulnerable as

you think. Michael deserved what he got. Well, so did I. I put up with him and his
shenanigans far too long.” She waved away his protest in her newfound independence.
She wasn’t married to Michael any longer. Maybe Susan was right and it was high time

she took control of her own life. “I’m not just talking about his affairs. I mean the way
he talked down to me as the years went on, the attitude. The more he fooled around, the
more he tried to blame me for his own faults. And I let him because I remembered the

Michael I married and somehow thought I was to blame.

“But I wasn’t. I see that now. I do deserve better. So kiss me, Brian. And know I’ve

wanted that kiss from you for a very long time.”

Brian shook his head and frowned, not understanding her. “No. You’ve been

avoiding me. Why?”

Carol smiled at his wounded ego. “One word—Michael.” She shook her head

ruefully. “Because of all his infidelities, he knew the settlement would go against him in
the divorce. But if I had also had an affair, he would have had a weapon against me.”

She stepped closer to him, her hands reaching out to touch the magnificent muscles of
Brian’s chest. So strong, so handsome.

“He thought we were having an affair?”

She stepped back and gave Brian time to understand her. “No. But he’s not a stupid

man. He saw how much time I spent ‘gardening’ and talking with you over the back

fence.” Carol wanted to forget Michael, wanted to erase the years she’d wasted with
him when, for all this time, such an incredibly powerful man had lived so near. Over

the past two years, Carol had memorized every line of Brian’s face, every shade of his
skin from the healthy ruddiness of his cheeks to the smooth tan of his brow. She knew

how pale he got in the winter when he wouldn’t emerge for weeks and she had to coax
him out with offers of hot chocolate and how his dark eyes would smolder over the

steaming cup as a part of his mind remained with the characters inside. And how the
summer sun brought out several small freckles left over from boyhood that still clung to
the bridge of his nose. Now he stood before her in a tattered old Grateful Dead T-shirt

and jeans and she thought he’d never looked so sexy.

The graceful curve of his dark eyebrows accentuated his deep blue eyes. Did Brian’s

eyes change as his moods did? Suddenly she wanted to spend the rest of the day and

long into the night finding out. She stepped toward him again, intending to claim a kiss
of her own.

“Carol, I need to stop you before you let yourself go too far with me. Make no

mistake. I want you.” Brian took her in his arms, brushing her hair from her face,
looking like he wasn’t sure she was real. “I’ve wanted you a long time. But I have

different tastes when it comes to sex. Tastes that most women find…hard to take.”

“I know.” Carol’s eyes flashed as a sexy smile curved her lips. “I’ve read your

books. All of them.”

His fingers reached up and curled into her shoulder-length hair, tugging it lightly.

“Then you know I like it rough…that I believe pleasure and pain go hand-in-hand.”

A thrill chased all along her spine and threatened to undo her. “You can’t hurt me

more than I want to be hurt.” Physical pain would chase away the lingering demons,
the niggling thoughts that still tried to tell her she was the one who had failed the
marriage. She was the one not worthy of Michael’s time.

Brian’s hand slid down to her breast, the backs of his fingers sliding over the satin

blouse she had worn to the courthouse. With a sudden movement, he grabbed her

breast, his fingers mauling her flesh through the fabric. With his other hand in her hair,

she couldn’t move away from his sudden invasion of her private space…and didn’t
want to. She thrust her breast toward him, inviting his roughness.

Brian looked into Carol’s dark brown eyes and saw his own longing reflected there.

“And now that the papers are signed and you’re officially divorced?”

“I want you to make love to me, Brian. Show me what it means to be loved again.”

He descended on her like a man too long deprived of what he needed. His lips

closed over hers, his tongue probing until she opened to him, tasting and possessing her

mouth. His hand slid around her back and he took control…not letting her go even
when her hand came up to push on his chest because she couldn’t breathe. His cock
pressed into her thigh and he rubbed it against her, letting her know exactly how much

her words had affected him.

“Take me away from here, Brian. Take me away from this hateful house and this

hateful car and this hateful yard.”

Passion flared in Carol’s eyes, a passion to run from her past mixed with a sexual

lust for him. Brian didn’t need a second invitation. Scooping her petite form into his

arms, he carried her across her yard toward his house. She snuggled and nuzzled his
neck the entire way over, not stopping until they reached the small gate in the fence that
separated their two properties. When he paused, she reached down, unlatched it and

Brian kicked it open, neither of them caring that it didn’t shut behind them. What was
going to escape from one yard to the other that hadn’t already?

If she noticed the mess in the kitchen, Carol never said a word about it and Brian

carried her all the way into his living room before setting her down and roughly
pushing her away from him. As a result, she lost her balance and fell onto the soft couch
that stretched beneath the front windows.

“Strip.”

The vulgar command had exactly the effect on her he wanted. Her eyes flared with

anger that warred with arousal. Her lust won. She stood to face him, almost defiantly
ripping her clothes from her body until she stood before him totally naked.

“Turn around and put your hands on the cushions.”

Carol’s soul ached for his force, ached for a man who not only knew what he

wanted but who wanted her. She turned and bent over, presenting her ass to him for the

first time, her cheeks coloring a little at her wantonness. When the first slap came, she
wasn’t surprised and she welcomed the smarting pain that warmed her ass.

“You need discipline…and strength.”

He punctuated each word with a hard slap from his hand and Carol savored the

sting. Over a year ago she had read his first book with naïve eyes—eyes that were
opened and taught by his words. A new world lay before her and she devoured every

story he’d written as well as dozens of other books where BDSM played a prominent
role. She longed to try something new, something different from the plain old sex she
had with her husband…when he deigned to remember he was married. How many

times had she fantasized about being under Brian’s domination over the past year?
How many times had she come at her own hand when her husband was off with

someone else? How many times had she come while pretending Brian was her Dom or
Master?

Michael had never noticed, of course. He’d long since stopped paying attention to

her in the bedroom. The hundreds of dollars Carol had spent on fancy negligees and
sexy underwear had gone to waste in her attempts to interest him in her body. Now she
was totally naked and Brian’s hard-on evident under his pants as he gave her ass a

spanking. She grinned as another strong slap stung her ass and gave voice to her
desires. “Yes, sir. Teach me discipline. Teach me how to be strong.”

Brian had lost count of the number of times he’d masturbated to the thought of

Carol bent over, her ass reddened from his hand. The thought of her submitting to his

will, of her begging him for her pleasure, begging for him to give her the release she
craved, had been fodder for many a late-night session. And here she was, bent over his

couch, doing exactly that. Not only was she not afraid of him, she welcomed and
wanted the physical power that he expressed only in sex. He grabbed a fistful of her

dark hair and pulled her upright again, determined to show her the most sinister parts
of his desires. Although he’d been her confidant for all this time, he had no clue how

she’d take what he could dish out. How far would she go?

He turned her to face him and the look she gave him was full of trust and desire

and longing. Again the anger swelled in him that Michael hadn’t seen the treasure in

his own bed. This was a woman who longed to be fucked and fucked often…something
he intended to do very soon to her. He fisted her hair at the nape of her neck.

“You like this don’t you.” It wasn’t a question and he didn’t wait for an answer.

“You like it rough.”

She nodded against his hand, a small whimper coming from the back of her throat

as she leaned on him for support. He deliberately kept her off balance, forcing her mind

to constantly adapt to the changes he threw at her. God, she was beautiful!

Brian propelled her toward his basement door, pausing to release her while still in

the kitchen. While there, he changed tactics, taking her more gently into his arms as he
explained his expectations. She’d never be able to say she hadn’t been warned.

“I will give you several opportunities to refuse me, Carol. This is one of them. And

because what we’re about to do isn’t something you have experience with, I want you
to think of a traffic light.” He smiled, but there was little mirth in his voice. It was
important she be given a way out if she needed it, but she needed to understand he

wasn’t going to coddle her. “I won’t ask you for a status report, but if you need to, I
expect to hear ‘yellow’ if you need to pause and ‘red’ if you need to stop. Otherwise, I’ll
assume you are on ‘green’. Do you understand?”

She nodded and a lock of hair slipped to her cheek. “Yes...a traffic light makes it

easy to remember.”

Brian slid the lock of hair back behind her ear. “Never doubt that I want you…that

I’ve wanted you for a very long time. You’ve read my books so you know what’s down

in that basement.” He grinned. “Maybe not as lavishly furnished as the dungeons in my
novels but…” He shrugged and left the end of the sentence hanging.

“If you walk down those steps, I expect you to give me control over your body and

mind. All the responsibilities get handed over to me. You give up everything. You walk

down those stairs and I am in charge.”

A slow smile spread over Carol’s face. She leaned her head against Brian’s shoulder

almost as if she were drinking in his strength. For several heartbeats, she basked in the

comfort of his arms before stepping back and looking at him with calm acceptance. “I’m
ready.”

He gestured to the steps and Carol calmly walked to them and descended.

No responsibilities? No thoughts, nothing but obedience for a short time to a man

who wanted her company and her body? How could she refuse? Her pussy ached to be

touched and the places where his hands brushed against her skin burned for more.
Brian exuded a calm strength and honesty and caring. Carol stepped onto the basement

floor with trust and confidence.

Like many suburban houses, the stairs faced the wall leaving only a few feet

between the last step and the foundation of the house. She had to turn right or left to

continue and paused, wondering which way lay his dungeon.

“Go left.”

He hadn’t turned the basement light on but enough brightness filtered down from

above that she could easily see a clear area immediately to her left. She stepped next to
the wall and waited for him, shivering a little in the damper, chillier air. Brian stepped
beside her, put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “I’ll warm that skin

plenty. You won’t be cold for long.”

Chapter Two

The fact that Carol had read one of his books didn’t really shock him. He knew her

well enough to know she’d be curious. The fact that she’d read every one he’d written,
however, did surprise him. She’d asked for disciplining without prompting and now
stood in his basement, shivering and ready to do his will. In the darkness, his smile was

wry as he considered whether maybe he should be thanking Michael for being such a
jerk that she had come to his arms for release and comfort.

Brian flipped a switch and a single bare bulb cast shadows over the various pieces

of equipment scattered around the otherwise-empty basement. His skill lay with words,
not with furniture building and the pieces that sat in the corners had all been ordered

online and then assembled here. While he’d had his share of subs over the years, most
of them had been for research purposes and he’d paid them well. Ever since his wife
had left him, he hadn’t had a steady partner. Would Carol be more than a one-time

participant? There was only one way to find out.

Without another word, he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the middle of the

room where a large hook and pulley hung from the ceiling—an antique wood and

metal contraption. Brian had picked it up at a garage sale and found it useful for
suspending women for their mutual pleasure.

“Put your hands behind your back.” When she obeyed, he looped a length of white

clothesline around her wrists and began tying them together. “Have you ever been tied
so tightly you couldn’t escape?”

“I’ve never been tied up, period. Well, when we were kids and we played cops and

robbers…” Carol paused to grin as Brian wound the clothesline around her wrists.
“Somehow I always managed to get tied up.”

“That was your submissive tendencies coming out even then.”

“It wasn’t sexual, though. Just…fun.”

Brian nodded as he tied off the clothesline. “Not sexual, but you still knew you

wanted it.”

She smiled as she moved her arms, testing to see how strong the bonds were. A

flush came to her cheeks as the lack of movement excited her. He pulled her into his
arms. “You are an incredibly sexy woman, do you know that?”

Carol blushed and Brian realized she truly didn’t understand her own ability to

arouse men. While at this point he’d never gone out in public with her, he was sure
when they did, he’d see men’s heads turn to look, to watch her pass by. She might be
firmly in middle age along with him but he was living proof that men’s desires didn’t

stop just because they got older. Carol’s body had borne two children and yet she still
remained trim and fit and healthy. He stepped back and ran a palm over her belly,
noting the few stretch marks she bore as signs of motherhood. He traced one with his

finger.

“This shows you’re not afraid of a little pain.”

She snorted. “Delivering babies is not a little pain, thank you very much. I worked

hard for those scars.”

He put his face near hers. “Then a few scars more won’t bother you in the least, will

they?”

Brian had no intention of doing anything to her that would leave a scar but the

mind-fuck was worth the sudden look of fear and arousal on her face. He didn’t need to

touch her to know her pussy was soaked by the thought of his doing physical harm to
her. To her credit, she swallowed hard and shook her head even as her voice squeaked
when she answered him.

“Not in the least…no.”

He pinched her nipples, just a little to make them hard, then picked up a coil of

leather from a shelf off to the side. The strip had been specifically cut no wider than his
forefinger so that it would provide a good strong surface for what he was about to do.

Keeping hold of one end, he dropped the other to slap on the floor, watching her as he
did so. She remained still, eyeing him with wary interest. So far, so good.

His fingers found the middle as he continued to torment her with his words. “Have

you ever had your tits tied?”

She shook her head, her eyes now focused on the leather in his hands. He wrapped

the leather around her right breast, sliding the ends through the doubled center and
pulling it tight. Her gasp was music to him.

“You like this?” He waited for her to nod and when she did so, he pulled her up

onto her tiptoes, sliding his free hand through her parted legs. His fingers found her
dripping pussy and he rubbed it hard, bringing her to the brink of a climax. But only to

the brink. He didn’t want her to come just yet. Let it build…and be worth the effort he
was putting into it.

“Looks like you like it a lot.” He relaxed the tension and let her back onto her heels

as he brought his wet fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, tasting her musky
gift. A small whimper came from her again as she watched him and Brian was pretty

sure her sex with Michael had never given her such a reaction.

He took the leather and wrapped another few lengths of it around her breast,

seating it and pulling it taut. Tying it off, he let a long end dangle down as he picked up

a matching coil and looped it around her other breast. When he pulled it tight, she rose
onto her toes and danced a bit as she found her balance. He just grinned at her and once
she was stable again, she grinned back.

Carol couldn’t deny Brian’s skill had already brought her close to an orgasm several

times. The books he wrote had titillated her in the long, dark months she had needed to

find her courage yet she’d never expected the reality to make her feel so incredibly
alive. Her skin tingled and every nerve ending reached out, eager to feel more. When he

tightened the leather around her breasts, her knees felt weak while her soul felt
liberated. The oxymoron of being bound to feel free wasn’t lost on her.

She particularly enjoyed the look in Brian’s eyes. One of determination, though she

wasn’t entirely sure what he was determined to do. Bind her? That much was obvious.

Have sex with her? She certainly hoped so. Hurt her? He hadn’t so far. Although other
women might not like this kind of treatment, she loved it and, with her eyes, she

begged for more.

He gave it to her. From his erotic tales of kink and fetish, she’d expected him to play

with her bound breasts. A Wartenburg wheel perhaps? Maybe wax. When he pulled the

rope down from the pulley, she understood that Brian in real life was much more
nefarious.

Tying off the ends of the leather and slipping them over the metal hook, he reached

behind him to an old-fashioned crank. A few turns and the slack was taken up. Another
half turn and she was forced onto her toes, her breasts turning pink from the tight
leather combined with supporting her own weight. She tried to find her balance, only

partially succeeding.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brian watching her from the shadows. The

bare light bulb spread its harsh light and Carol understood that even though the ceiling
wasn’t high, it would be high enough for him to pick her up off her feet entirely. Torn
between wanting it and wanting to run from the soreness, she only moaned as she

spread her legs a little to steady herself.

“Very nice dance.” Brian’s voice was dry as Carol tried to remain as still as she

could. “I think I need to see more.”

She heard the sound of the cane before she actually saw it in his hands. He split the

air with it in several forceful strokes and she winced, her body stepping backward to
get away from him in spite of her mind’s willingness.

Except that the leather pulled her breasts and she didn’t move but a few inches.

“What? You don’t think you’d like to feel the sting of the cane?” He stepped into

the light, coming to stand directly in front of her. When had he taken off his T-shirt?
Strong shoulders told her he could hurt her a lot with that thin piece of bamboo. When

he lowered his voice, she shivered. “You don’t even know where I intend to use it on
you.”

She didn’t. Would he strike her bound breasts? Breasts that longed for his touch?

Would he stripe her ass and make her dance to his tune? She didn’t care. She only knew

she wanted it. Her voice cracked as she begged him. “Use it where you want. I’m yours
to play with.”

Her words inflamed him so much that he needed to give his cock some room. From

all their conversations, Brian had gathered there was far more to Carol Iderman than
her public persona let her show. Now he had proof hanging here in his basement.

Walking slowly, he circled around behind her. Once she couldn’t see him, he slid

down the zipper on his jeans and gave his cock room, then slid them off and kicked
them into a dark corner. He’d find them later. Maybe. His briefs followed and he stood

behind her, cane in hand once more and naked as the day he was born. Brian grinned,
okay, maybe he hadn’t been born with a hard-on but he certainly enjoyed having one

now. Rubbing his free hand over his shaft, he watched Carol teeter from one foot to the
other as she waited for his blow.

Except Brian wasn’t quite ready. She already was building up in her mind what

was to come though he wanted more. She’d never been caned before and probably
would be able to take only two, maybe three blows. He wanted each one to take her to
the edge. He stepped behind her, using his free arm to pull her tight to his body, his

cock pressing against her bound wrists. He felt her fingers open to touch him.

“I like to hear the cries of pleasure, slave. I want to hear you scream for me.”

The words had the intended effect. She moaned and leaned against him, even

though it meant putting pressure on her breasts. Those wonderful mounds had turned
a nice rose color and Brian ran his hand over them to check the temperature. Still warm.

He had time enough to torment her mind and ass.

Much as a golfer will take several practice swings before addressing the ball, Brian

raised and lowered the cane against her ass without striking as he taught his arm the

distance. Only when he was satisfied he had the right momentum did he actually swing
to connect…hard.

Carol hadn’t intended to cry out. The several light touches he’d given her had

allowed her time to prepare, or so she’d thought. She didn’t know which of the touches

would be a real strike but she knew one of them would be and was ready for it.

Although she wasn’t. The shock, the sting that lingered afterward, came as such a

surprise that her voice gave him exactly what he wanted. Already on her toes, she had

nowhere to go but forward, which pulled on her breasts, which caused her pussy to
flood…she savored the moment as she hung on the brink of an orgasm.

And then it passed and she righted herself, her breath coming in small gasps as the

stroke faded to a sore warmth. Once more Brian touched her ass with the cane several
times. Last time she’d counted four touches before the blow and unconsciously she

counted again.

This time, however, he only took three practice strikes before delivering the

resounding blow to her ass and this time Carol sobbed through the burning as her body

exploded in an orgasm. It was just so much more than she expected and she had no
control over herself as waves of pleasure coursed through her bound body. She didn’t
even feel his next aiming touches and when the third blow landed, her orgasm

skyrocketed her to new heights and her body convulsed in pleasure.

Carol had responded even better than Brian had hoped she would, coming over

and over again as the pain coursed through her. Dropping the cane to the floor, he
untied her wrists with a quick pull on the rope then held her body close to his as he

used the crank to lower her. Slipping the leather bindings off the hook, he held her in
his arms and kissed her as her body racked out the last vestiges of her orgasm. He

invaded her mouth, possessing her climax, his fingers finding her clit and urging her to
go again. Her bound breasts pressed against his chest and his cock desperately wanted

to plunge into her pussy depths, yet he tormented himself by waiting a little longer,
forcing another orgasm from her tiring body.

He’d brought down an old double bed several months ago when a woman he’d

hired to enact a scene had complained that climbing the stairs after a session spoiled the
mood. It wasn’t fancy—he’d bought the thing second hand. Of course, the people

who’d sold him the bed would have a hard time recognizing it since Brian had finished
refurbishing it. He’d strengthened the frame with thick wood, given the entire bed a
glossy coat of black paint and added an assortment of hooks and eyes not only to the

headboard and footboard but to the reinforced sides as well. The mattress, covered only
with a thin sheet, gave him plenty of room to play, yet lent an air of purpose to the bed.
There could be no doubt in anyone’s mind that this bed was no longer a place for sleep.

Scooping her limp body into his arms, Brian carried Carol to the mattress and lay

down beside her. Because he’d bound her breasts tightly, it took several moments to

undo them. She tried to help except her fingers were feeble and her eyes not entirely
focused. Brian grinned. He wasn’t through with her yet. After a few minutes’ rest, he
suspected she would want more.

She didn’t disappoint him. Snuggling into him, Carol lifted her face to his, inviting

a kiss. He obliged, not really surprised at the passion she put behind it. She gave herself
in that kiss, gave him permissions and begged for more. He’d need to do more than

give her a few cane-stroke-induced orgasms to sate her.

He responded to her implicit begging, mauling a now-unbound breast and listening

to her whimpers as she pushed her chest toward him. Her arms clung to him, her hands

restless, moving to touch every inch of his skin. When he pinned her legs with his own,
she struggled—not to get away but to get her legs spread and wrapped around one of

his muscular thighs so she could get relief from the pressures building inside her again.

Brian had no intention of letting things go the way she wanted them. Well, not

exactly the way she wanted them anyway. She’d get her orgasm several times over if he

did his job right. And he’d get his.

“Turn over, slave.” He pulled and pushed her onto her knees, her ass presented to

him, her head pressed into the mattress. “I’m going to take you like the slave you are. I
don’t ask your permission and I’m not going to be nice about it. Your body is mine.”

The clean scent of the sheets filled her nose and Carol wondered how many other

women had been taken here. Did Brian do a lot of research? The tawdry basement
setting fueled a desire inside her and when he grabbed her hands and yanked them

back, holding them behind her with one hand while he used the other to position
himself, she needed every ounce of restraint to keep from pushing back and impaling
herself on his cock. He had her right where he wanted and his words shamed her even

as they thrilled her. Her pussy throbbed, ready for his entrance.

“Wait for me to come.” The tone of his voice brooked no disobedience. He still held

her wrists in one hand and Carol felt his cock at her entrance then he slowly entered
her. Brian took his time, whether out of a desire not to hurt her or a desire to tease her
to distraction, Carol didn’t know. Whichever it was, his maddeningly slow pace drove

her insane.

“Oh God, Brian…you feel so good inside me.” He was large, she could tell from the

pressure on her pussy. “Fill me with your cock,” she pleaded, pushing her cheek more

firmly into the mattress as she angled her body so he could more easily enter her. Her
heart pounded blood to her pussy in a rhythm that beat out hot nights and lusty unions.
She moaned and pushed to bring him inside where she was warm and moist and ready

for him.

The woman amazed him. Over the years they’d shared stories over the back fence,

Brian had determined that a passionate woman lurked under her demure exterior but

she surpassed his fantasies. It was true that pain and pleasure were closely related and
he’d just finished giving her ass a light caning, the stripes of which had made his cock

painfully hard as she knelt with her ass held high, for him to see. He didn’t want to do
any permanent harm and so had been gentle when stretching her pussy to accept him.

“Harder, Brian…deeper and harder.”

She was supposed to be the submissive one yet the directions she gave him now

gave him permission to proceed on an entirely different level. She wanted it rough? He

slammed his cock in the rest of the way, watching her body arch with the sudden
invasion, listening to her small cry as he forced her body to accept his length.

Control slipped from both of them as nature took over, their bodies rocking

together. He grabbed her wrists with both hands now and pulled her up, riding her like
a master jockey rides a wild horse. Beneath him, she bucked and swayed, grinding her
hips back into his as he thrust repeatedly into her.

His balls tightened and for a long second, he paused, hanging in air, suspended in

time…before crashing to earth, his cum spitting into her warmth and filling her.

Brian groaned as he came and he felt Carol let go, releasing her own orgasm and

milking his cock. The relief flooded all the way to his toes and he slowed, loath to leave
the warmth of her wet pussy. He lowered her to the mattress and knelt behind her,

closing his eyes as he caught his breath.

Carol lay in a haze of sexual satisfaction. Never before had she been so thoroughly

used. He’d “forced” her to come, using a cane and his fingers, and he’d filled her pussy
with his cock. When he at last pulled out and lay beside her, she wanted to repay him in
some small way for his incredible gift to her.

He would have drawn her into his arms but she wiggled away. With a playful yet

take-charge attitude, Carol pushed him over onto his back and trailed her fingers down

along his belly to his hips. There she turned her attention to that which she’d felt but
not yet clearly seen—his cock.

Although it was already shrinking and their combined juices covered much of it, he

was still impressive. No wonder she had felt filled by him. Sliding down, she licked his

cock clean.

The skin was incredibly soft on her tongue, smooth and warm with remembered

life. No flap covered the tip, giving Carol free access to explore even the little slit in the
end. His scent mixed with hers, creating a musky sachet that turned on every one of her
sex hormones. As her tongue flicked and caressed, she was thrilled to feel the blood

pulsing through the veins again as his cock grew large once more.

Brian had always been able to come twice in the space of an hour. Once he’d even

come three times, though the third had been pitiful by comparison. As Carol’s tongue
snaked around, exploring his cock, Brian relaxed and let nature have its way with him.
Only by relinquishing control could he maintain it.

Obviously Carol hadn’t had a lot of experience with sucking a man. However what

she lacked in technique, she made up for in spirit. He hadn’t commanded her to clean

him—she’d done so of her own volition. Now as he grew, he didn’t tell her to suck him
and yet her mouth pulled his cock in, her tongue sliding faster over the base. If he
wanted, he knew he could come in her mouth and she’d accept his cum without

hesitation.

“On your knees again, slave.”

Brian loved the color that came up in her cheeks and the smile that went with it.

With all else going on in her life, she enjoyed this little hiatus, this foray into a
forbidden sexual lifestyle. Brian sincerely hoped she’d return for more when her life
settled.

He wanted that pussy again. She’d fit him so comfortably, his cock ached to plunge

in a second time. But he wanted her bound this time, bound and helpless to stop his

advances.

The bed had originally been a temporary solution to one woman’s preferences but

the modifications Brian had made to it opened a whole set of new possibilities.

Grinning, he imagined Carol at some future date, with her arms fastened to the frame
over her head and her ass lifted high in the air for his use.

That gave him an idea. Leaving her kneeling on all fours, he stepped over to the

bench and pegboard where he kept his “tools” and chose a set of wrist cuffs and two
one-inch locks.

“Kneel up.” Brian thoroughly enjoyed watching her breasts bounce as she came up

to kneel on her heels. The deep red marks made by the leather thongs still marred the
whiteness of her skin. He paused to run a practiced hand over her left breast, hefting its

weight and giving the nipple a little pinch before continuing. With a waggle of his
eyebrows he held out the cuffs to her, grinning as she promptly put out her wrists.

“Always wondered what it would feel like to wear cuffs,” she confessed. This was a

simple set, just a length of leather about two inches wide with a D-ring in the middle, a
set of slits on one end and a metal hoop on the other. Put it around a wrist, slide slot A

over tab B, fasten with a lock and voila! Cuffed.

“And how does it feel now that you have them on?”

She wiggled her wrists in the air in front of her. “They jangle!” She looked at him in

surprise.

“Metal on metal usually does.”

Carol shook her head. “Sorry, sound was not a sense I expected to come into play

here.”

Brian smiled ruefully. “Looks like I need to do a better description in my books.”

He watched her turn her arms this way and that, exploring all the sensations of the

cuffs. “Well?” he asked when she finally put her hands down in front of her. “What’s
the verdict?”

“I like them.” Bringing them up, she considered the strips of black as she talked.

“They don’t constrict and yet they do. I mean, I can do anything with them on that I can

do with them off but I know they’re there. Probably, after getting used to them, I
wouldn’t notice them at all. Kind of like you know when you’re wearing a new watch

and it’s always in your mind but after a day or two, you forget all about it until you
look at the time.”

“These are light cuffs, not really designed for too much heavy work. They’re more

an about-the-house type cuff,” Brian admitted. “But they’re a good set of beginner cuffs.
Don’t want to scare you away.”

A strange light came into Carol’s eyes. “Don’t think you could,” she muttered.

Brian looked at her askance and wondered if he’d let a genie out of the bottle when he’d
brought Carol downstairs. In many ways, he certainly hoped so.

“On your knees again.” The Dom was back in his voice and Carol responded

immediately. Taking one of the pieces of leather he’d used around her breasts, he
doubled the length and slipped it through the two D-rings, pulling her wrists first

together then forward a bit so he could tie it off to the bottom of the headboard. Not
classy but it would serve.

The spreader bar that leaned against the wall in the corner already had cuffs

attached to it. It clanged as he dropped it onto the mattress and Brian made a mental
note to include that in his next novel as well. He spread her feet wide, fastening them to

the bar. This would give her only up and down movement and prevent her legs from
closing at all now.

Carol felt the cool air of the basement on her open pussy. She tested her bindings,

finding the strengths and weakness in how he’d bound her body. Her hands were far
out in front of her, pulling her a little off balance but she could inch her knees forward

one at a time to regain that.

The sound of Brian’s laughter stopped her. “Oh, no, you don’t. My slave woman

isn’t going anywhere.” She felt him pull the spreader bar back again, her knees scraping
along the mattress. Ducking her head down to peek under her arms, she saw him tie a

rope to a hook of some sort in the middle of the bar and then he pulled her back again
as he stretched the rope taut to tie it off on the footboard.

Now she was even more off-balance, her ass higher, the skin that stretched across it

aching from the three cane strokes. God, how she had enjoyed those! Thrilled with the

journey of discovery he led her on, she didn’t really care what that enjoyment might say
about her. She could sort all that out later. Right now he was going to use her again and
her pussy creamed in readiness.

The mattress gave a little when he knelt behind her. Not sure what to expect, she

knew she was tenser than she should be and when a warm liquid dribbled down along
the valley of her ass, she jumped.

“Skittish, aren’t we?”

“Sorry.” Carol shook her head and took a deep breath to relax. Whatever Brian had

planned for her, she welcomed.

And then a finger probed her ass. She gasped. Although she’d fantasized about

being taken there, she’d never confessed her desire to Michael. He had already had such

little respect for her that that would have sealed her fate. Now, however, Brian’s finger
slowly penetrated her ass, moving in and out as he took ownership of even that part of
her.

She knew she moaned. If she’d had words, she would have pleaded with him to go

faster. She was so close to coming again—a fact that amazed her even as she dimly
understood it was the Master’s hands that gave her the opportunities. The most

orgasms she’d ever managed before had been three in one day and those had been
spread out over the course of several hours as she had read one of Brian’s more erotic
novels. Today, with the real thing, she’d lost count of the number of times she’d come

while bound. Four? Five? How many more had she had here on the mattress around his
cock? And her body craved more.

Her pussy ached as his finger plunged in and out of her ass and she wanted to

come. Faster, she wanted to yell at him. Go faster!

But all she could do was moan out her desires. She wasn’t in control—he was. She

allowed him to take her where he wanted, innately knowing it would be worth the

wait.

“You like having your ass fucked, slave?”

She couldn’t answer. His use of the vulgar word threatened to send her over the

edge. Brian fisted her hair, forcing her head back. “Answer me when I ask you a
question, slave. You like having your ass fucked?”

It took effort to form the words. His finger remained pushed deep into her ass.

“Yes, I think I do.” She so desperately wanted to come.

“You think? You don’t know if you want me to fuck your ass?”

Every time he said the word, she trembled. “I don’t know if I like it. I’ve never had

anyone take me there,” she managed.

His voice was low and his mouth close to her ear. “Say the words, slave. Say the

words you’ve thought but never said.”

Carol’s cheeks burned. Brian pulled out his finger only to plunge it again into her

ass and she knew she’d say anything to further her orgasm. “I want you to fuck my
ass.” How had he known she’d never said that word out loud before?

“Say it again, louder.” He slipped a second finger into her hole, stretching her, and

Carol’s breathing, already ragged, became fast and shallow as she poised on the edge of
the cliff. Her eyes closed and her entire world focused on his words and his fingers.

“Please, Brian. Please fuck me in the ass.”

“Louder.” He pumped three fingers in and out of her asshole, widening her,

preparing her for his entrance.

“Fuck me. Fuck my ass!”

Her voice held a sob as she shouted the words he demanded of her. He squeezed a

generous portion of oil onto her ass, then positioning his cock, he pressed against her,

insistent, unrelenting. “Relax and let me in.”

With a shudder and an exhale, she did and he slid the tip of his cock inside. The

three stripes glowed against her skin and he couldn’t resist. The slap he gave her was

light and quick and stinging. Her body relaxed further and he pushed again, working
the oil in deep with his cock as he rocked in and out, in and out.

Carol thought she was going to split in two. She cried out each time he pushed

against her, her body fighting and welcoming the intrusion. If her hands had been free,
she’d be rubbing her clit hard right now, coming over and over as he fucked her ass.

“Fuck me,” she muttered, trying to match his thrusts with the tiny amount of

movement she had. His cock was so large. Would he ever fit the entirety inside? Her
moan ended as a sob as he pushed harder. When she felt his balls slap against her ass

cheeks, she knew her ass was virginal no more.

“Come for me, slave. Give me your orgasm.”

Carol pumped herself against his cock, feeling her own muscles bunch, poised for

that orgasm many called a mini-death. She longed for that death, sobbed out her
breaths as Brian’s cock slid in and out of her ass. Suddenly everything stopped and she

hung poised in time. One second, two…an eternity in a heartbeat.

And when she couldn’t stand the pressures any longer, she felt as if her body

exploded. Electricity flew to tingle in her fingers, her toes. It came out of the top of her

head and would have flown out her eyes if she didn’t have them so tightly shut.

But most of all, her energy flooded out her ass and pussy in waves of power

stronger than she’d ever known.

Brian groaned as his cum filled her ass. The woman was incredible, her body

responsive to his every touch. He most sincerely hoped Carol would become a frequent

visitor to his basement and even as he came down from his second orgasm, his mind
turned over several possibilities for another session.

Her head drooped between her stretched arms, her body twitching with stray

pulses of her orgasm. He pulled out, listening to her cry of protest when he did. Did she

protest because she didn’t want him to leave? Or protest because her ass was tender
and his leaving caused a small pain?

Leaving her tied for a moment, he walked to the stationary tub and grabbed a towel

out of the waiting laundry. He cleaned his hands and his cock, then wet down a

washcloth with warm water before coming back to her.

“Stay still,” he told her when she startled at the touch of the cloth on her ass. She’d

been rocking in her bindings when he returned, a sign that her body still rode the stray

wave of energy. The cuffs on her ankles were easy to remove and he pushed the bar off
the mattress, listening to it clang against the cement floor. With a deft pull on the
leather, he gave her back her wrists, though he left the cuffs on for the time being.

Her body free, he lay down beside her and pulled her into his embrace, wishing

he’d thought to bring a blanket down as well. Making a mental note that he liked
snuggling afterward with Carol, Brian resolved to be better prepared the next time. If

she would give him a next time.

Carol burrowed into Brian’s warmth, her body fully sated this time. For several

long minutes, she didn’t think of the past or of the future. The present was all that
concerned her and she felt truly relaxed for the first time in months. After a while, she

felt she could put at least some of that into coherent sentences.

“Thank you, Brian. That was an incredible experience.”

“I didn’t hurt you too much, I hope?”

She turned her head to kiss his shoulder. “Nope. You hurt me just the right

amount.” A giggle wormed its way up and she let it out. How long had it been since she
had giggled?

“I like to hear you laugh, Carol. It’s a sound I haven’t heard in a while.”

Her sigh wasn’t one of regret but of contentment. “You make me laugh, Brian.

Thank you for that as well.”

She sensed he wanted to ask her something but was trying to find the right way to

frame the question. Carol remained quiet. He’d come to it and she would give him the

time he needed.

“Carol…” he started, then stopped.

“Go ahead, Brian. We’re too good of friends for you to hold back now. Ask.”

“I want to do this with you again. And again and again.”

She sensed the hesitation. “There’s a ‘but’ coming…” Moving so she could prop her

head on one hand and look at him, she heard the jingle of the lock on the cuff at her
wrist. She jingled it again just to hear it as she settled and looked him in the eye. “What
is it?”

“You’re just divorced and coming out of a relationship. In many ways, this is

rebound sex. I’m still not sure that, ethically, I should have even asked you in the back
door.”

“Ethics went out the window a long time ago, Brian. We’re both attracted to each

other and have been for a very long time. I think we actually showed remarkable

restraint in waiting until today to consummate what we’ve both wanted for months.”

“Years, actually.” Brian grinned. “I wanted to jump your bones within a month of

you moving in.”

Carol’s laugh this time was full-throated and unrestrained. Brian thought he’d

never heard a more beautiful sound.

“Then I’d say we’ve been very ethical.”

Her fingers traced his face and Brian took them and kissed the tips. “So then I can

safely say I’ll be seeing you in my basement again?”

Carol remembered Susan’s parting words about learning from the past and not

making the same mistakes again. The experiences Brian offered her were nothing like
her old life but she knew she had to take time to figure out exactly what she needed and

what she didn’t. She smiled and nodded. “I promise. Not for ever and ever but I
promise for now.”

Brian pulled her down, murmuring against her lips, “A promise for now.”

About the Author

For many years, Diana Hunter confined herself to mainstream writings. Her interest

in the world of dominance and submission, dormant for years, bloomed when she met a
man who was willing to let her explore the submissive side of her personality. In her
academic approach to learning about the lifestyle, she discovered hundreds of short

stories that existed on the topic, but none of them seemed to express her view of a d/s
relationship. Challenged by a friend to write a better one, she wrote her first BDSM
novel, Secret Submission, published by Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

Diana welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email

address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think

We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at

[e-mail].

Also by Diana Hunter

A Devil in Winter

Cabin Fever

Diamond Studs anthology

Hooked

Irish Enchantment anthology

Kara’s Captain

Learning Curve

New York Moment

Secret Submission

Submission Revealed

Table for Four

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning

publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC
on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you

breathless.

www.ellorascave.com