Requested Surrender by Riley Murphy

her friends, it was that these guys—Doms—knew a thing or two hundred about messing with a woman’s right to be completely insane and/or wacko, if she wanted to be. Lacy didn’t think she was perfect, by any means, but she was happy. At least as happy as she could be…
    She stopped right at the bathroom door and scowled. Now she was justifying her feelings? Forget that. She had a home. A good job. Friends. What’s not to be happy about?
    Hm, good question.
    Hell. She made her way into the bathroom and unceremoniously dropped the dildo into the sink before she quickly got dressed. Once she was presentable, she cranked on the hot water to let it heat while she had a look around.  Nice tile, wallpaper and granite. She was in the process of taking it all in when her eyes landed on the neat grouping of items to the left of her.
    Well, well, well. Would you look at that? A bottle of toy cleaner, a black leather bag and a note. The latter of which she dove all over. She told herself it was because there was a smiley face on it, but the truth was, it had David’s signature scrolled on the bottom. With shaking hands she held the flimsy yellow paper toward the light and read.
    Are you feeling dirty yet?
    Bastard. She smiled because she was feeling all kinds of dirty. Twisting around, she took in the double shower behind her and decided maybe not that dirty.
    When she turned back she spotted the white writing on the black case and picked it up to examine.
    For Lacy’s “Happy Times.”
    Okay, she had to admit there was a certain charm in the way the guy had turned her sarcasm back on her. Peeking into the case she would have frowned because it was empty except for another note. She was beginning to like the Post Its.
    Don’t worry, there’ll be more than the one item in here within a few days, promise.
    Snatching the leather case shut, she looked into the sink. Then she leaned back and peered around the doorframe into the library. Immediately her gaze latched onto the desk. And there they were. The red bag, the lube and blindfold. Leaning back in, she caught her reflection in the mirror and this time frowned. “So, what? Are you in a game of kinky Clue where you’re Ms. Scarlett to David’s Colonel Mustard? Ridiculous,” she muttered. But then spying how badly her hands were shaking, she was left thinking maybe it wasn’t such a ridiculous thought after all.

    David chugged half his bottle of water and then put it down on the desk beside him, as he stared at the robot in the painting over the fireplace. Now he totally got it. Not that he hadn’t before. The message was fairly obvious, but after the instance of absolute clarity he and Lacy had shared when she’d fully opened up to him, he realized the “in your face” image was wholly misleading.
    Over the course of his adult life he’d fucked, flogged, tied up and down, spanked for pleasure and punishment, hugged, bit, pinched, prodded, pushed and protected all manner of submissive females. He prided himself in committing his full attention to the women he chose to top. They had needs and he met them while filling his own. It was an even and fair exchange, or so he’d thought, but now he knew it hadn’t ever been as all those prior experiences paled in comparison to the one he’d just had with Lacy. They hadn’t even physically touched with brick, mortar and glass between them, and yet that one stunning moment had connected them deeper and more surely than if he’d been inside her, claiming her in the most basic male way possible.
    He knew Lacy didn’t appreciate herself or the secrets her body held that would lead her to ultimate fulfillment. She’d discounted the power of the experience. This was why she was drawn to a man like him. She needed him to appreciate her. To slow her down and get her focused so she was free to enjoy those special qualities to the fullest so he, in turn, could.
    There was nothing more powerful. Not one thing better to boost a