ENSLAVED
Copyright © 2013 Gemma James
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover images used under license from www.bigstockphoto.com
Cover design by Gemma James
NOTE TO READERS: ENSLAVED is a novella with a BDSM edge and contains material that is only suitable for adult readers. If dark and edgy erotic fiction isn’t your kind of read, you might not enjoy this story. Part two of a three-part series. These stories are not stand alone reads. For a better reading experience, I recommend beginning with ULTIMATUM, the first book in the DEVIL’S KISS series. Approximately 19,000 words.
SUMMARY:
Freedom is but an illusion . . .
Kayla Sutton finds out the hard way that Gage Channing’s dominance doesn’t end once she leaves the confines of his basement. His rules dictate her days and nights, his watchful eye keeps her in line at work, and the memories of her weekend with him, spent under his absolute control and his firm hand, keeps her on her toes. Having been blackmailed into submitting to him, Kayla doesn’t fully understand what it means to relinquish control of her body and free will, and she doesn’t understand how a man who derives pleasure in whipping and humiliating her is capable of awakening the desire she hadn’t known existed.
As her daughter’s life hangs in the balance, Kayla must dig deep to find the strength to fully submit, to travel down the path of pain and pleasure. But when her past catches up to her, prompting a free fall into forbidden territory with a man she once fiercely loved, she knows her only recourse is to come clean about her transgression to her Master and beg his forgiveness . . . only she never imagined he’d have such a horrifying punishment awaiting her, or that his jealousy would send her life into a further tailspin.
1. T H E R U L E S
Whoever said crying was a form of cleansing hadn’t cried over the shit I had in my lifetime, the most recent of which took the cake—namely that my daughter was fighting for her life. I’d stolen from the devil himself in order to save her, and now I was paying the ultimate price: six weeks of forced slavery of the most vile variety.
The fact that a part of me enjoyed it only compounded the problem.
I unlocked my door and finally allowed the floodgates to break. I’d barely kept my tears at bay while at the hospital, where I’d pulled Eve into my arms and rocked her long after she’d fallen asleep. I wasn’t sure if I’d held on so long to comfort her or me, but the weight of her in my arms and the smell of her soft skin had righted my world, if only for a while. I’d needed someone in that moment, and sadly I had no one but my three-year old daughter.
I shed my clothes and collapsed into bed, and the sense of safety I usually felt within these walls was absent. Gage Channing’s lingering intrusion permeated every corner of my sanctuary. I curled into a ball and hugged my naked body, letting it all out in gulping sobs. The rest of the night blurred—hours blending together as the clock on my nightstand moved time . . . moved time closer to when I’d have to see him again.
Confusion and grief were powerful emotions; they haunted me now as heavily as my guilt did—the most disturbing case imaginable. I tortured myself with the vivid memory of his sculpted body moving against mine, demanding my submission, and his whip lancing my bare skin in unforgiving blows. Worse was how he’d forced me to pleasure . . . how even now I craved it.
I still ached from being denied so long. Despite his damn rules, I slid my hand between my thighs and closed my eyes, burrowing my fingers into slick, throbbing heat. My frenzied touch brought me to an exquisite build-up. Gage’s
Copyright © 2013 Gemma James
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover images used under license from www.bigstockphoto.com
Cover design by Gemma James
NOTE TO READERS: ENSLAVED is a novella with a BDSM edge and contains material that is only suitable for adult readers. If dark and edgy erotic fiction isn’t your kind of read, you might not enjoy this story. Part two of a three-part series. These stories are not stand alone reads. For a better reading experience, I recommend beginning with ULTIMATUM, the first book in the DEVIL’S KISS series. Approximately 19,000 words.
SUMMARY:
Freedom is but an illusion . . .
Kayla Sutton finds out the hard way that Gage Channing’s dominance doesn’t end once she leaves the confines of his basement. His rules dictate her days and nights, his watchful eye keeps her in line at work, and the memories of her weekend with him, spent under his absolute control and his firm hand, keeps her on her toes. Having been blackmailed into submitting to him, Kayla doesn’t fully understand what it means to relinquish control of her body and free will, and she doesn’t understand how a man who derives pleasure in whipping and humiliating her is capable of awakening the desire she hadn’t known existed.
As her daughter’s life hangs in the balance, Kayla must dig deep to find the strength to fully submit, to travel down the path of pain and pleasure. But when her past catches up to her, prompting a free fall into forbidden territory with a man she once fiercely loved, she knows her only recourse is to come clean about her transgression to her Master and beg his forgiveness . . . only she never imagined he’d have such a horrifying punishment awaiting her, or that his jealousy would send her life into a further tailspin.
1. T H E R U L E S
Whoever said crying was a form of cleansing hadn’t cried over the shit I had in my lifetime, the most recent of which took the cake—namely that my daughter was fighting for her life. I’d stolen from the devil himself in order to save her, and now I was paying the ultimate price: six weeks of forced slavery of the most vile variety.
The fact that a part of me enjoyed it only compounded the problem.
I unlocked my door and finally allowed the floodgates to break. I’d barely kept my tears at bay while at the hospital, where I’d pulled Eve into my arms and rocked her long after she’d fallen asleep. I wasn’t sure if I’d held on so long to comfort her or me, but the weight of her in my arms and the smell of her soft skin had righted my world, if only for a while. I’d needed someone in that moment, and sadly I had no one but my three-year old daughter.
I shed my clothes and collapsed into bed, and the sense of safety I usually felt within these walls was absent. Gage Channing’s lingering intrusion permeated every corner of my sanctuary. I curled into a ball and hugged my naked body, letting it all out in gulping sobs. The rest of the night blurred—hours blending together as the clock on my nightstand moved time . . . moved time closer to when I’d have to see him again.
Confusion and grief were powerful emotions; they haunted me now as heavily as my guilt did—the most disturbing case imaginable. I tortured myself with the vivid memory of his sculpted body moving against mine, demanding my submission, and his whip lancing my bare skin in unforgiving blows. Worse was how he’d forced me to pleasure . . . how even now I craved it.
I still ached from being denied so long. Despite his damn rules, I slid my hand between my thighs and closed my eyes, burrowing my fingers into slick, throbbing heat. My frenzied touch brought me to an exquisite build-up. Gage’s
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