Wilde Novellas

By: Janelle Dennison



“We both want each other, that much we established earlier in the elevator,” he said, brazenly reminding her of her wanton behavior with him. “But since dating is out of the question because of how public it would make our relationship and attraction, and you’re nervous about risking your reputation with the company, I’d like to propose a fantasy world, one that stays just between the two of us and is only visited at night.”

She frowned, not quite grasping his concept, or precisely what he meant. “A fantasy world?”

He nodded slowly. “In this private, intimate world we create for the sole purpose of satiating our desires, I’ll be your phantom lover who comes to you only in the dark of night to fulfill your deepest, most erotic fantasies. In this fantasy world, you can be completely open and uninhibited with me, ask for anything you want, and whatever we say or do will stay in this room and go no further. And when the freelance project at Massey is done, we’ll part amicably and go our separate ways.”

The impulse to accept his scintillating offer clashed with a wealth of insecurities, and deeper uncertainties.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek, staring at the enigmatic man in front of her, noticing how he’d taken great pains to transform himself into a fantasy lover, all for her benefit and peace of mind. All because he wanted her badly enough to present her with a nonthreatening, anything goes, sexual escapade, along with the assurance that nothing would go beyond what they shared in this bedroom.

She believed him. This Eric was so different from the shrewd businessman who balanced his more serious, executive side with a carefree, flirtatious attitude. There was nothing carefree about the lover he’d created solely for her pleasure. No, this man was as mysterious as the night, oozed raw male energy even when he wasn’t moving, and was outrageously blatant in his intent and approach.

The provocative fantasy beckoned, stealing her common sense and leaving behind an explicit hunger she felt helpless to deny.

“What do you get out of this?” she asked, before she lost the nerve.

He tilted his head. “I have a few of my own fantasies I’d like to fulfill, as well.” Retrieving the brush from her hand, he smacked the flat backside against his palm. “Have you ever been spanked by a lover before?”

“No.” She quivered deep inside, admittedly feeling a little breathless at the thoughts invading her mind. Wicked, shameless visions that caused a melting warmth to cascade through her veins. She lifted her gaze back to his face, and found him smiling at her in that devastating way of his. “I’m not into pain.”

“Me either. For myself, or my partner.”

“I’m relieved,” she said, and meant it.

He caressed the smooth, wooden surface of the brush with long, stroking fingers. “But you might find it more pleasurable than you think, with the right man. I would think a light spank on such pale, tender flesh, done in a restrained way, could be very arousing.”

He walked behind her, and she braced herself for a stinging slap on her bottom, torn between panic and an inexplicable excitement, but the spanking never came. Instead, he gathered her hair back, unraveled the strands from the unfinished braid, and let the silky mass flow down her spine. She shivered and closed her eyes as he slowly pulled the brush from the crown of her head to the ends of her hair. His fingers joined in on the luxurious treatment, massaging her scalp, the nape of her neck, chasing away the last of her tension and completely relaxing her. Unused to being pampered in such a wondrous way, she couldn’t contain the soft groan of pure pleasure that rose up from her chest.

“You have beautiful hair,” he murmured near her ear, his voice low, deep, and soothing. As was the palm that trailed down her bare arm in a languid, nerve-tingling stroke. “You always wear it up at work, and I never knew how long it was, how wavy and soft.”

Her breasts swelled, her breathing deepened, and she felt completely hypnotized by his beguiling monologue, his tantalizing touch.

“I love long hair,” he continued. “The way it feels grazing my naked body, and especially how sexy and erotic it feels having the strands wrapped in my fist so I can be the one in control.”

His long fingers tightened around the hair at the nape of her neck, and he gently tugged her head back, giving her no choice but to heed his silent command to rest her head against his shoulder. He brushed his warm, velvet-soft lips along her jaw, and let his teeth graze the side of her throat. Her mind spun, and she moaned.

She felt him smile triumphantly against her neck, felt the hot, damp gust of his breath on her skin. “Do you like the way that feels, too?”

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