Fling Read online




  FLING

  A BDSM EROTICA ANTHOLOGY

  SARA FAWKES

  CATHRYN FOX

  LAUREN HAWKEYE

  Contents

  TAKE ME BY SARA FAWKES

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  About the Author

  TEACH ME BY CATHRYN FOX

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  About the Author

  TAME ME BY LAUREN HAWKEYE

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  About the Author

  An Excerpt from Seduced by the Gladiator by Lauren Hawkeye

  Chapter Four

  An Excerpt from Pleasure Control by Cathryn Fox

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Also by the Authors

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  TAKE ME

  SARA FAWKES

  Chapter One

  THE FIRST THING Kate did when stepping off the boat was break the latch on her old suitcase, spilling the contents of the bag all across the ground. Normally, that would simply be an annoyance, but the type of clothing that fell free made her face light up.

  Many of the pieces had come from her bachelorette party, with the remainder being wedding-shower lingerie gifts. Very few of the items had been purchased by Kate herself, but at the moment the lurid colors and lacy frills, such a contrast to the old pier she stood upon, were mortification at its finest.

  She immediately dropped to her knees, trying to round up the embarrassing articles as quickly as possible. To her relief, the other arriving guests mostly ignored her as she stuffed the clothing inside the ruined bag. What a picture I make, she thought miserably, crawling around the ground on her hands and knees to pick everything up.

  “Allow me to help.”

  A tall man in a dark suit knelt beside her, and Kate, positively horrified to find chivalry right then, of all moments, looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen. Lashes as thick as any mascara commercial circled his eyes. His black hair was slicked back, emphasizing high cheekbones and olive skin. He was dressed in what looked like an expensive tailored suit, which hugged wide shoulders and trim hips.

  Breath stuttering to a halt, she watched in abject humiliation as he picked up each item and deftly threw it inside the bag. He did pause on one item, quirking an eyebrow as he studied the colorful lace and sturdy straps to a pink corset. Truth be told, she had no idea how to even wear a corset but had opted to bring it anyway. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she hadn’t been ready to give up every last vestige of her wedding plans, but right then she wished she’d left the whole lot at home.

  Face suddenly aflame, she dropped her eyes and all but snatched the corset from his hand, hurriedly stuffed it inside the suitcase, then tried unsuccessfully to close the zipper. The bag had finally given up the ghost, however, and refused any attempt to conceal its contents.

  “Allow me,” the stranger said, then lifted the bag into his arms and rose to his feet. Kate was left on her knees before him and looked up to see him watching her, a speculative look on his face. His gaze caused her belly to flutter, and she realized she was eye level with the thick bulge of his crotch.

  Breath hitching in her throat, Kate scrambled to her feet and tried not to meet his gaze. “Thank you,” she mumbled, reaching out to take her bag.

  He evaded her hands, however, motioning toward the doors of the resort. “Follow me.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but his face brooked no argument, and Kate lowered her gaze again, turning toward the front doors. Kate knew her acquiescence at the stranger’s commands should have annoyed her, but it was such a relief to give someone else control, even if only for a few moments. Since life under her own rudder had turned out pretty crappy lately, perhaps it was time to leave it up to another, at least temporarily.

  It should be Ted carrying my luggage, she thought, torn between misery and bitterness. Of course, he’s probably carrying someone else’s luggage now. Her left hand felt too light now that she wasn’t wearing his ring anymore, having removed it at their house when he texted the day before their wedding to say that he’d changed his mind. I wasted seven years of my life on that man, and all I got was this lousy vacation.

  The resort was supposed to be their honeymoon destination. It seemed like such an extravagance to her, vacationing in the Mediterranean. Ted had been insistent that the spot was perfect, and it really had looked lovely on paper. Given the fact that her fiancé was a history buff, she’d guessed he was more interested in visiting the Greek or Roman ruins on the mainland. That was all right; Kate would be fine with the pampering frills the resort advertised. Writing her half of the check to the agency that planned everything had been painful, but Kate had been sure the sacrifice was worth the price.

  She’d never expected to enjoy it alone. But enjoy it she would, come hell or high water.

  As they entered the large entryway, the man holding her bag gestured to a nearby employee, who quickly wheeled over a baggage cart. “Wyatt here will take your bag to your room once you’ve checked in.”

  “You work here?” Kate asked, surprised, as the stranger loaded the bursting bag onto the brass cart.

  He nodded. “Unfortunately, I have a few things to which I must attend, or I would help you to your room myself.”

  There was a heat in his gaze that threw Kate off, leaving her momentarily dumb and struck again by his beauty. He looked as though he meant something much deeper than merely escorting her to the door, and the idea of his helping her through it and well inside set alight a flame in her belly. Even Ted hadn’t made her feel this way, not in several years, and she felt her legs weaken under the stranger’s gaze.

  A voice nearby called faintly, and he looked away, breaking the moment. Kate blinked, then stepped away hurriedly. The last thing I need is another man in my life. “Thank you for your help. I, um, apologize for anything you might have seen.” Kate’s face was flaming, and she couldn’t quite meet his eye, but she saw the bemused look he gave her.

  “It was my pleasure, Miss . . . ?”

  “Swansea, Kate Swansea.” She reached out to take his proffered hand and was surprised when he raised it to his lips. Those beautiful blue eyes tore through her, and the warmth of his kiss on her knuckles had her heart thumping hard in her breast.

  “I look forward to making your acquaintance, Ms. Swansea.” He gave her a little bow of his head, then turned away, moving toward another woman across the lobby.

  Kate watched him go for a moment, admiring the long and lean profile, then shook herself back to the present. The trip to the island resort had taken a long time, and a shower or nap sounded wonderful to Kate. Alone, she reminded herself as she stepped up to the counter, resisting the urge to look behind her and see where the helpful stranger had gone. The younger man at the counter had two large earrings in his ears and light eye makeup, and when he saw her gave a big smile. “Welcome to the Mancusi Resort,” he said in a singsong, lightly accented voice. “My name is Stefan. How can I help you today?”

  “I have a reservation for a week’s vacation.” She handed over the paperwork she’d kept from the travel company and watched as the effeminate man en
tered it into the computer. A delicate frown furrowed his brow as he tried again, and worry began to curdle in Kate’s gut.

  “For two people?” Stefan at the counter asked, reading the paperwork she’d given him.

  “Only one,” Kate said, fighting against the dark cloud threatening to settle over her. Too much had gone wrong over the last two days; for her to get this far and be denied entry would be too much. Please, please, please. . .

  Stefan looked up at her, confusion in his eye, then back to his screen. “The paperwork here says you prepaid for two slots,” he said slowly. “Is there anyone accompanying you?”

  “I . . .” Kate trailed off, unsure how to continue. “Originally, there was supposed to be someone else, but now I’m alone.” She leaned in close to the counter. “Look, I’m not worried about any refund, and I’d be willing to cover the difference.”

  “No, no, it’s not that.” He clacked away at the keyboard again, lips pursed in thought, then heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, Miss Swansea, it looks as though your reservation was either changed or canceled. I can’t find it under the confirmation number you’ve given me.”

  No! Kate felt panic threaten to overwhelm her suddenly and crushed it back down. “Can you check again?” she asked, forcing each word out. “Please.”

  The young clerk seemed to recognize her need and typed away on the computer, but she could tell from his disappointed look that there was no good news. Oh God, she wondered, dejected, had Ted canceled the reservations already? What about the money she’d put in? Had he robbed her of that as well? He’d never been the kind of man who would be that cruel, but the idea of her ex-fiancé’s cheating her out of this one last thing made her suddenly desperate. “Please,” she said softly, leaning in close so people around couldn’t hear her desperation. “My fiancé called off the wedding via text message only a day before our wedding and left me to deal with the aftermath. This was going to be our honeymoon and . . . Please. Can you look one more time?”

  “Oh honey!” Stefan laid a hand on Kate’s, startling her. There was pity in his eyes, but she could also see the wheels turning in his brain. “We’re booked up for this week, but hang on, let me see what I can do.” He set to typing, but his face didn’t look hopeful.

  ALEXANDER WAS WATCHING the little submissive surreptitiously from across the room. The minute he saw her in obvious distress, his protective instincts went into overdrive.

  It had been a long time since anyone had captured his attention, but the little redhead more than piqued his interest during their brief interaction. Her position at that moment gave him a perfect view of her jeans-clad backside, the round little heart-shaped ass making his hands itch to caress. She had an hourglass figure made for a corset, and the idea of her in heels and a thong had his mouth watering and dick hardening.

  He’d noticed her immediately, although it had taken him a few moments to realize why. At first he’d thought it was just his dominant recognition of a sub, but when she’d lowered her eyes in reaction to his gaze, his dick had jumped. His body’s reaction had surprised him, especially since it had been so long since he’d had a visceral reaction to a woman.

  “You always were an ass man, Alexander.”

  Alexander tore his gaze from the redhead, albeit reluctantly. “My apologies, Francesca,” he said, inclining his head respectfully to the Italian woman. “It was not my intention to ignore you.”

  “Yet that is precisely what you’ve done since I started talking to you. You certainly are not acting like a hotel manager today.” There was no rancor in the Domme’s voice; if anything, she sounded pleased as she regarded her longtime colleague. Switching her gaze once again to the agitated woman across the lobby, her bright lips twitched up in a smile. “You do prefer the redheads.”

  Alexander inclined his head, silently agreeing with the raven-haired woman. “Is it true that you’ve decided to take on a new trainee of your own?” he asked, his gaze still watching the scene unfold across the room.

  Blood-red lips pulled up into what could only be described as a feral grin. “Yes,” she all but purred, “this one is brand-new too. I always find it so delightful to train them myself from the beginning—leaves less chance they’ll develop bad habits.”

  Francesca Mornini had been his friend and ofttimes business partner for over a decade, and one of the first people he’d met when he’d originally entered the BDSM lifestyle. There weren’t too many in regular society to whom he could turn for advice. The older Domme had been a vast database for knowledge, and Alexander would forever be thankful for her friendship. Asking her to help organize and run the resort’s Fetish Week had been a no-brainer; Alexander would handle the men, Francesca the women, in order to keep any perceived gender bias at a minimum.

  Right at that moment, however, all he wanted to handle was the small woman with the bagful of toys who looked so delicious when she was mortified. His reaction to her was both a delicious balm and tantalizing temptation, neither of which he’d experienced in a very long time.

  “It’s good to see you take an interest again,” Francesca continued, tugging at Alexander’s attention. “After Christina left us, I thought you would never find another who interested you.”

  The memory of his last sub swam over Alexander, but time had managed to dull the ache of losing her. “I did take on some women after her passing,” he said, but Francesca only snorted.

  “You took on trainees,” she corrected, “and always for brief periods. None ever held your interest for long.” She gave a small chuckle. “None of them were redheads, either, if I remember correctly.”

  There had been a reason for that, which Alexander was sure his old friend had picked up on. “I wasn’t ready,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “Christina was going to be mine forever, and when the cancer took her . . .” He trailed off as, across the lobby, the little redhead’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Alexander knew he couldn’t wait a second longer. “Francesca . . .”

  “Go,” the Italian woman urged, shooing him away. “I can deal with orientation details myself. If we forgot anything else, it’s too late now.”

  Alexander needed no further encouragement and quickly crossed the lobby in giant strides until he was behind the short redhead. This close, he towered above her petite stature, but it also gave him a tantalizing view down her blouse.

  Stefan saw him first, and the relief in the younger man’s eyes was immediate. The little redhead, however, kept her eyes downcast as she stepped back, bumping into Alexander’s solid body. She jumped around and glanced upward before lowering her gaze back to the floor, but the sight of her tears tore through Alexander’s gut. Fire raced through his body as he narrowly resisted the insane urge to gather her to him and wage war on whatever person or situation had caused the tears. “Is there a problem here?” he rumbled, gaze traveling back to Stefan.

  The relief on the young clerk’s face slipped a bit at the growling undertones. “There seems to be a mix-up,” he said quickly, handing the reservation paperwork to Alexander. “Someone is already in the room that Ms. Swansea was scheduled to take this week.”

  “So put her into another room.” He hadn’t meant to say the words so roughly, but the memory of those tears made him want to rip into something.

  “That’s just it, sir, we have nothing else available.” Stefan couldn’t quite meet Alexander’s eyes, and the Greek man had a moment of sympathy for the young sub. Still, that didn’t stop Alexander from moving smoothly around the redhead and leaning in closer to the young man.

  “She may have the presidential suite then,” he murmured, eyes burning holes into the other man’s skull. From the corner of his eye, he watched the redhead start in surprise.

  Stefan’s eyes widened. “But sir,” he protested, obviously confused, “those rooms are already reserved for . . .”

  “It is available for Ms. Swansea’s visit,” Alexander interrupted firmly. He hadn’t yet moved his luggage into the room, and could
always find somewhere else to sleep within the resort.

  “I don’t mean to be a bother,” came a small voice beside him. Alexander turned to see Kate staring at the countertop. No tears showed on her face, but her eyes were red-rimmed, and Alexander’s protective instincts went into high gear. All he wanted to do was pull the woman close and promise everything would be okay, but that was not the right time.

  “Nonsense,” he said smoothly, straightening up and addressing the suddenly reluctant woman. Alexander gave her a small bow to cover the roaring inside his body. “The fault was all our own, and we are determined to make this right.”

  A creamy white brow furrowed, and pink lips pursed in obvious worry. “Will there be a big difference in the price?” Kate asked tentatively, as if reluctant to hear the answer.

  “The upgrade is free, Ms. Swansea.”

  The redhead looked dazed. “Presidential suite?” she repeated vaguely, as if not sure to believe what she heard.

  “I’ll escort you to your rooms as well,” Alexander offered.

  Kate’s gaze sharpened. “You said earlier that you had other business,” she said.

  “I have delegated responsibilities and am entirely at your disposal.”

  Kate’s eyes widened, and Alexander grinned inwardly. She could not hide her own interest; her face flushed, and she dropped her eyes again. He took her stunned silence as tacit agreement and nodded at the bellboy, who took the hint and walked away to help other guests.

  “All right, Ms. Swansea,” Stefan said, the bright smile back on his face. “I have you booked into our presidential suite. Here are your keys and information on what events will be happening during your stay. An optional orientation will be downstairs later this afternoon if you have any questions about the rules. Welcome to Fetish Week!”