Southern Submission (Southern Submission (A Southern BDSM erotic romance)) by Bellatrix Turner

 
    Here’s an excerpt from the story:
    I sighed.  I
refused to look at him; refused to let myself be drawn in by whatever
tragically sad look he had on his face.  The situation was just too weird,
but I felt like maybe I’d freaked him out somehow and I should try to make
amends.  “Tad.  Look,” I sighed.  “I was talking to a friend of
mine about you, and I said I wasn’t sure if I wanted to date somebody –”
deep breath! “– as preppy as you are.  And she said that she’d heard
you aren’t as preppy as you look, and that you like it rough.  And that’s
when I agreed to this date.”  I could feel my face heating up.  I’d
just accused my date of being preppy – true or not, them’s fightin’ words
among the people I usually run with – and I’d promptly followed that up
with a roundabout admission that I liked rough sex.  I was mortified.
    I heard footsteps
behind me.  “Alex…” he sighed.  “I’m sorry.  I do have a temper,
and I hate all the gossip in this town, and maybe I overreacted.”  A firm
hand on my shoulder directed me to turn around.
    I was still blushing,
still staring straight ahead.  When I’d turned, “straight ahead” changed
from a view of the bridge to a view of Tad’s chest.  Then a view of an
arm, as his hand moved from my shoulder to my chin, and for the second time
that night he was lifting my chin.  His thumb brushed against my lower
lip, parting them slightly, as he bent and kissed me again. 
    He kissed me like he
wanted to devour me, like a feral animal inhaling a meal.  I wrapped my
arms around his neck, feeling my body spring back to life.  I was dizzy
and aching and my knees were wobbly as he ran his hands down my back to cup my
ass.  Without breaking the kiss, he suddenly grabbed my ass and picked me
up off the ground.  He spun us a quarter turn and then set me down on the
railing of the balcony. 
    The ground behind me
was not a sheer rocky cliff, but it was a remarkably steep hill, almost a
hundred feet down to Riverside Drive below.  My stomach fluttered and I
instinctively wrapped my legs around Tad’s waist.  He broke the kiss and
nuzzled my neck, murmuring, “I won’t let you fall, Alex.”  His breath in
my ear sent cold shivers through me, and I groaned and pulled him closer with
my arms and legs.
    I could feel his hard
member pulsing between us.  My thin skirt and soaking wet panties were
barely obstacles, not like the bulk of his khaki pants.  I was panting as
I unwrapped an arm from his neck and reached down between us, and I groaned
when one of his hands caught my arm. 
    “No, Alex.”  His
other hand came up and caught the back of my head, pressing our foreheads
together.  He groaned and his cock throbbed between us, but his left arm
returned my hand to the back of his neck.  “I need you to do what I say,
ok?”
    I tried to get my
scattered brain back together.  It wasn’t like I was going to have sex
with this guy, on what was essentially our first date, in a park downtown,
right?  “Yes,” I panted.  “Yes.  Ok.  Yes.”  I was
talking more to myself than to Tad, but he took it as an answer to his
question.
    “Hold on, beautiful,”
he murmured, then his lips closed against mine again.  The hand on my arm
slid down toward me, then over to my throbbing breast.  I gasped and
sucked some of the breath from his lungs as his hand first cupped my breast,
then slowly, relentlessly, started squeezing my nipple. 
    I was writhing, moaning
helplessly against his mouth, when his other hand started moving.  The arm
that had been wrapped against my back, keeping me safe from the edge of the
cliff, suddenly trailed down my back and around to the front of my hip. 
He pulled back from me again to say, “Don’t let go of me, Alex, hold on for
me.” 
    Then his fingers found
their way under the bunched-up edge of my skirt.  His hand, so hard and
hot, wrapped around my pubic bone and pressed my panties against