The Bad Boys of Eden by Sharon Page, Eliza Gayle, Cathryn Fox, Opal Carew, Mari Carr, Adriana Hunter, Avery Aster, Steena Holmes, Roni Loren, Daire St. Denis

many more choices than that.  You may choose to stay here but defy me.”  He leaned forward and stroked her temple with the backs of his fingers, and his voice softened.  “Or you might choose to submit to me and enjoy being my slave.”
    His words sent a shiver through her.  Not just because of his tone, and the images those words elicited of her kneeling before him, bowing her head, but of the heady delight that skittered through her at those images.
    “That’s right.  Think about submitting to me.  Body and soul.”  His fingertips brushed along her cheek, sending tingles through her.  “That is a choice, and one I think you very much want to make.”
    She stared at him with wide eyes, trying to decide if she should slap his smug face, or just lurch to her feet and stalk off.
    “Come here,” he commanded.
    Without thinking she stood and stepped close.
    His hand glided over her hip.  Her heart pumped faster as his hand slid over her thigh, then under her skirt.  Part of her wanted to slap it away and flee.  But the other part, the part of her in control of her motor skills, kept her frozen to the spot.  He found her mound, then slid under the fabric to her naked folds.  She gasped as his finger slid inside her.
    Oh, God, she was so wet.  And now he knew how much his words had turned her on.
    “Kneel.”
    At his command, she dropped to her knees in front of him.
    “Feeling your wet pussy has turned me on, slave.  Now I want to come.”
    He said nothing more but expectation hung in the air.  He expected her to do something about it.  And he was allowing her choice.
    She should stand up and march away.  Let him find his own damn release.  Or prove him wrong about the fact she had freedom by making him force her to have sex.
    But she wanted to see his cock again.  To feel it inside her.
    To take it in her mouth and suck on the big head.
    Keeping her gaze locked on his, she unsnapped his jeans and drew his zipper down.  She stroked the cotton-covered shaft inside, feeling it twitch beneath her fingertips, then she slid inside the flap and wrapped her fingers around the hot, thick column.
    She drew it from the fabric.  Her gaze fell to the stiff erection standing tall and proud in front of her.
    Oh, God, she could hardly wait to taste it.
    She leaned forward and licked the tip, gliding her tongue over the tiny hole.  A salty drop of precum tingled on her tongue.  She glided her lips down, filling her mouth with his plum-sized cockhead, swirling her tongue over him.
    His eyes darkened to a coppery-gold, and she felt her own intimate flesh quiver.
    She glided downward, watching his eyes as she took him deep, controlling her gag reflex to take him further and further into her mouth.
    He sucked in a breath as she swallowed him whole, to her complete satisfaction.  Then she drew back.  He was hard and hot in her mouth and she squeezed him.
    His fingers forked through her hair and he drew her toward him again.  “Fuck me with your mouth,” he insisted.  “In and out.  Make me come inside you.”
    She dove deep, then drew back, then forward again, setting a rhythm.  His cock twitched in her mouth and she fucked him, like he commanded.  His cock filled her throat again and again.  She could hear his breathing accelerate.  Feel his groin tightening.
    He was close.  Soon he would be spilling his seed in her mouth.
    “Stop.”
    The word jarred her from the sensual haze she was in.  He guided her head back and off his cock.
    “Fuck, stand up.”  He stood and dragged her to her feet, then spun her around.  He pulled her to his body and pushed her forward until her thighs were hard against the solid wood table.
    He pushed up her skirt, then tugged down her bikini top.  She felt his big, hot hands cup her breasts and he squeezed and kneaded them, sending waves of need humming through her.
    She felt herself bent forward, until she rested on the hard table, his hands still holding her breasts,