Dark Submission

Dark Submission

AJ Hardcourt

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Kyler’s fantasy is to be bound, gagged and forced to submit…a dark submission.

In the middle of the night, two men, Masters, enter his home, his room…and his bed. And they are about to make his fantasy reality. Only he doesn’t know who they are.

Behind the slave hood, it doesn’t matter that in his mind and heart he would never cheat on his partner, Brian. His responses reveal just how much he aches for the pain and pleasure of BDSM. But in surrendering he’ll betray his lover because Brian could never be his Master, would never understand his submissive needs.

Or does Brian have secrets of his own?

 
PUBLISHED BY: Demanding Romance
ISBN: AJDR06
PUBLICATION DATE: 2010
WORD COUNT: 5422
SEXUAL CONTENT RATING: 5 5 5 5 5
EBOOK READER RATING:
CATEGORIES: ManLove, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotica, Multiple Partners
KEYWORDS: anal sex, oral sex, ambiguous consent
 

EBOOKS BY Demanding Romance

EBOOKS BY AJ Hardcourt

 
EXCERPT
COPYRIGHT AJ Hardcourt/2010

Kyler Paxton jackknifed into a sitting position. His pulse raced, instantly burning off the sleepiness. The sheet dropped to his groin. Fear chilled his flesh. Anxiety sent adrenaline to his heart. The frantic pounding had blood whooshing through his ears. He listened, trying to keep his breathing slow and shallow—and failing. The door handle turned. No time to get out. No time to call for help. His cell was downstairs. If he could gasp a deep breath, he would scream. Or he could feign sleep. He shifted back to lying prone the bed. Every muscle tensed. His palms bunched into fists…waiting…listening. Sweat trickled along his hairline.

The door opened. Kyler’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness. There were two men at the threshold to his room. One carried a duffel at his side. He was larger, more intimidating than the shorter man on his left. The men would need to turn on a light or strain to see into the darkened room. If Kyler held still, whoever they were might not notice him on the bed and move on. If not, he’d fight like hell.

The floor creaked as the intruders stepped closer. Another creak. Kyler could fight one. He was six three and one-seventy-five. But taking on two would be a challenge. He waited, poised to throw down because whoever was in the room wasn’t turning around…they stood at the foot of the bed.

He could feel their eyes boring into his back. Pressure weighted his chest and a lump lodged in his throat. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. They moved closer. Their clothing rustled, clueing him on their location.

Fight or flee? No way in hell was he getting away if they took the advantage.

Kyler mentally started to count to three. He made it to one, lunged from the bed and swung at the first shadow on the right. Duffel. Kyler’s fist cracked against the man’s jaw. Pain shot up his arm, vibrating through him.

“Fuck!” The man grunted and lunged for Kyler. “You want to make this fun.” They scrapped, fighting for position, but he easily pinned Kyler to the bed, knocking the breath from Kyler’s lungs. “I know you want it rough,” he whispered. They were chest to chest. The soft cotton of the man’s T-shirt rubbed against Kyler’s nipples. The denim of his jeans chafed against Kyler’s groin as he pinned Kyler with his heavy thigh. His warm breath fanned Kyler’s face.

Kyler gasped, his chest heaving as he struggled against the man’s grip. But fuck, he was huge, solid and strong. “Fuck you! Get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops.”

The man standing at the foot of the bed chuckled. The sound an eerie premonition. “We are law enforcement.”

The big man glared into his face. “Come on, Kyler. Break a rule.” He whistled low and menacing. “I would love to punish you.”

Kyler couldn’t breathe. Fear snaked along his spine and coiled in his gut. This was bad. Really bad. Duffel knew his name.

“Hold him,” the other man commanded.

Hands roughly grasped his arms, the meaty fingers digging into his biceps.

Kyler thrashed. “You’ve made a mistake.” He bucked, causing the sheet to slip from his bed. He was naked…and exposed. And this was a nightmare.

“No mistake, pleaser9966.”

The other man, Short, knew his chat room profile. “Oh, god. Who are you?”

“God works,” the brute man said as he flipped Kyler to his stomach. He straddled Kyler’s hips, the bulge behind the fly of his jeans riding Kyler’s asscrack. Duffel yanked Kyler’s wrists together behind his back. Rope rasped against his flesh, tightly twisting around his wrists and weaving up his forearms. Then Duffel leveraged off and rolled Kyler over.

Kyler glimpsed the spark of lust and power in the man’s eyes. Duffel grasped his jaw. A ball gag wedged into his mouth, a strap tightened to hold the gag in place. A black slave hood was forced over his head, plunging him into blackness. As the ties along the back of the mask were cinched against his skull, the sweet scent of leather assailed his senses. Finally the wide slit in the leather for his mouth was zipped closed. Spit pooled in the back of his throat. He tried to swallow, tried to breathe. Flaring his nostrils, he sucked in air through the only opening in the leather binding.

Without ability to see or speak, and with his arms pinned beneath him, there was little chance for escape.

 
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