Estimated reading time: 5 – 8 minutes
Hello Everyone! As I mentioned in my last post, here’s the latest Charlotte DeCorte release. It’s got a masochistic ballerina who’s deliriously-in-love with a dark, damaged mess of a man. Sounds like Charlotte!
Here are the details:
Trevor St. John is the CEO of a monolithic corporation. He’s heir to a British title and can trace his direct lineage back to the time of William the Conqueror.
He’s also arrogant, prideful, and cold. He rarely tells me he loves me. He’s gone more often than not. He always has to be in control. He thrives on it, needing dominance over all things big and small.
He’s picked me apart and has discovered all the chinks in my armor. He’s utterly ruthless that way. Trevor is a dangerous love. I know it. Honestly, I do. Trevor St. John is beautiful, dark, and damaged.
And he’s all mine…
WARNING: This is a 12,000 word novella. It explores tortured love in the form of a D/S theme. It contains explicit language and sexual content.
He leans down and kisses me. For such a firm mouth, his lips are so incredibly soft. It’s homecoming when his tongue slides into my mouth. My nipples immediately harden, yearning for his attention. I pant, excited by a simple, sweet kiss.
Trevor moves back. His mouth is wet from mine. “Seems like I have a dirty girl in my lap. I should clean her…thoroughly.”
I nod, eager and excited. He scoops me up and carries me down the long hall leading to the master suite. The room is shadowed but my eyes are still drawn to the enormous bed crouched in the middle. Trevor has debauched me countless times on its surface. He’s made me scream in bliss. He’s made me cry as many times. I’ve slept the sleep of the dead there, curled in his arms and at peace with my world.
I so love that bed.
Trevor glances down. His smirk communicates knowledge of my carnal thoughts.
“I wouldn’t count on getting much sleep tonight, Rebecca. I’ve had to go far too long without you.”
“My offer still stands.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “As much as I appreciate it, I really don’t see how becoming your full-time sex slave will make either of us happy. You don’t want a slave, my dear.”
I shrug and say “It was just a suggestion!” while in total agreement. I don’t want Trevor submissive. At least not very often. Every now and then would be nice. But only for a little bit.
Trevor walks into the luxurious bathroom, more chamber than room, and sets me on my feet. I’m still wearing my heels but don’t step out of them. Trevor turns on the water and the tub begins to fill. There is no comforting mask of sound. The water doesn’t roar noisily. It glides out, whisper-quiet from ridiculously expensive plumbing.
Personally, I prefer my bathroom with its loud exhaust fan.
I want to undress him. I would if we were normal. Instead, I wait for Trevor to direct me, to let me know what is acceptable to him this time around. It changes like quicksand beneath my feet if I’m not careful.
Trevor typically doesn’t like to be touched. It makes him uncomfortable. Emotional neglect has that kind of effect. Which is why it’s amazing that he reacts the way he does sexually. Trevor is all hugs, kisses, and caresses then. He isn’t afraid to touch anything with his hands, mouth, or cock.
My fingers curl. It’s difficult sometimes to be so passive when all I really want to do is shove him to the stone floor and have my wicked way with him.
Finally! I stride over to him. I know my eyes have already told their bawdy tale. Trevor pulls me close and cups the back of my small head in his large hand. “Undress me, you dirty girl.”
I’m a dirty girl for now. Soon I’ll be a bitch or slut. I can’t wait.
I unknot his tie, rolling it carefully before placing it on the vanity behind him. It’s the only thing I allow myself to be patient with. His shirt buttons slip free while I arch up and press my mouth against his. I can’t be this close to him without kissing him. Trevor tastes delicious and I’m soon whimpering with dizzy delight. My hands shove his white shirt off his shoulders before yanking his undershirt over his head. Then I’m fumbling with his belt.
I can’t get Trevor naked fast enough.
I unbutton his slacks and push them past his narrow hips. My arm brushes against the firm bulge waiting for me. I sink my teeth into his plump lower lip as I cup him and squeeze.
Trevor groans and whispers, “Hurry.”
My time is running out. He’s going to take over soon. Trevor can’t be passive even when he’s supposed to be.
- Need Me – Being Trevor’s Toy
- Word Count: 12,000
- Categories: Erotica Romance, Dark Love Stories, Ballerina D/S