Bianca butts heads with not just her brothers, but also her husband when the family torturing begins. But the joke is on him. She’s ready to put him through the most erotic misery of all. She’ll show him who’s Dominant in their relationship until he’s screaming for more.
Their relaxing Paris vacation turns into a mad dash through the ancient streets, a competition of wills and a new exploration of what it takes to make their relationship work. From bondage, discipline and very public orgasms to navigating the Métro, family feuds and overcoming the language barrier, they’re going to redefine the word fun.
A Romantica® BDSM femdomme erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
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An Excerpt From: COLLAR ME IN PARIS
Copyright © SIDNEYBRISTOL, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Clay’s feet squicked inside his tennis shoes. For all of asecond he felt guilty for tracking mud and God only knew what else into theapartment, but someone had thoughtfully laid out newspaper and cardboard.Other, equally filthy shoes were lined up, as well as a few articles ofclothing too soiled to wear any farther. He toed his shoes off and left them inthe foyer. Bianca slammed the door shut and didn’t bother with removing hersneakers. She stomped down the hall to the tune of her family’s laughter andignored their calls.
Today had not gone well.
That was an understatement.
It had been a wreck.
“There you are!”
“Hey, thought you guys would never make it in.”
“About time you showed up.”
The teasing jibes kept coming as Bianca passed the livingroom and stormed to their suite.
She was beyond angry.
Angry was a fire ant army out to take a pound of flesh.
Bianca was beyond that. Furious, enraged, those words fither better, and he didn’t think he had it in him to care anymore. He’d changedfrom the sub he’d been three years ago who had no limits. He had them now, andbeing used as an emotional punching bag all day was a yard too far.
Clay paced slowly into the fray. The scent of stale waterand excrement clung to his clothing. The sense of accomplishment from havingcompleted the day’s challenges was dampened by the knowledge the rest of herfamily had finished in half the time and probably with a lot more cooperationfrom their spouses.
Kevin glanced up from the TV where the brothers werecurrently engaged in what appeared to be the latest multiplayer shooter game.“You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” Unlike his wife, their razing didn’t bother him.Who were they to him? Her family. Not his.
“Seriously, what took you guys so long?” Michael didn’tdivert his attention from the action. He even managed to snag a handful ofpopcorn and shove it in his mouth without breaking stride.
A random assortment of snack foods littered the coffeetable—cheese, crackers, chips, some cookies and even a bottle of wine. Theempty plates attested to there being even more to offer at one time. There wasenough there to feed several people. Despite being exhausted, he itched to packsome of the food away.
Jason’s voice broke his concentration. “We missed you guysat dinner. Everything okay?” Unlike his brothers, Jason had paused the game andturned toward him. Michael and Kevin grumbled but took the opportunity toshovel yet more food in their mouths.
“Yeah, took us longer than you guys. Where are the girls?”He glanced at the kitchen, but still no one.
“They went out shopping or to a show or something,” Michaelreplied and restarted the game.
The game ramped up and the three brothers began a flurry ofattacking something. He’d never understood the appeal of video games, but hehadn’t been exposed to them until he was in high school, and by then otherthings had taken on more importance. Like finding an after-school job so hecould have shoes without holes and jeans that fit.
He shuddered as a chill crept down his spine from theclinging, cold clothing and shook off the nervous tic as well. He’d left thosedays behind. “How did you guys get into the catacombs so fast? We waited almosttwo hours.”
Kevin snorted. “Oh fuck waiting.”
“We don’t wait, man. We offer the first people in line fiftybucks and skip the wait.” Michael glanced at him. “You didn’t seriously wait,did you?”
He grimaced. “Yeah, yeah we did.”
“Sucks to be you.” Michael laughed and focused on the game.
“Hey, do you want to join in? We probably have a sparecontroller around here somewhere,” Jason offered.
“No thanks. I’m going to clean up. Tromping through thosesewers was gross.”
He left the living room to a chorus of laughter, maybedirected at him or the game, he didn’t care. Bianca had known her brotherswould bribe and do whatever it took to win. That was their way and she hadn’ttold him. He’d waited in line for two fucking hours while she gave him thesilent treatment. They could have been strategizing, discussing how they wantedto play, learning the rules. But no. He had no way of playing with a full deckif she didn’t confide in him.
They were supposed to be a team.
A fucking team.
He pushed the door to the suite open and slammed it behindhim. If she could slam doors, so could he.
Bianca jumped but did not turn around from where she stoodat the foot of the bed. This was not the way things were supposed to be betweenthem. Sure, B called the shots and he was comfortable in his role as herhusband and submissive. He did not play the role of a carpet to be walked upon.
He ignored the instinct to kneel at the door, to wait forBianca to present the collar and slip his necklace off. His knees tried tobuckle, but he locked them in place. Instead he began removing his jacket andpeeling off his shirt.
“I didn’t give you permission to undress,” Bianca snapped.Waspish behavior was unlike her. Even when she gave him pain she laughed andsmiled.
“I don’t want your permission.” His voice was cold, foreignto his own ears. He wadded up his shirt and tossed it through the bathroom doorwhere it plopped onto the tile.
Bianca turned to face him. She’d stripped down to her navyboy short panties and matching camisole. The set was old, relatively speaking,but one of his favorites. The material had a silky sheen to it, and the lacewas soft to the touch, not rough. Her firm breasts filled out the top and hernipples were visible through the fabric. Goose bumps rose on her flesh, and herdamp, shoulder-length hair stuck to her face and hung in clumps.
She was beautiful, but not when her face was drawn andtight. Anger didn’t become her. Her makeup was smudged, streaked across hercheeks or completely gone, giving her something of a sad clown look. It ruinedthe ferocity of her flashing gaze and tight lips.
“What’s wrong with you? Is this some twisted plea forpunishment? Because I’m not amused.”
He fisted his hands. He would never lay a finger on her inanger, but he wanted to do something to work the frustration out. “No, this isabout you and your family, and keeping me in the dark.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You knew they would pay to cut in line and cheat.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. They do. And where do you thinkthat money comes from? My brothers spend months preparing and saving bribemoney. We had one night. What are you willing to forgo to pay for this? Clubmembership? Wine club? Hockey tickets? Because to me, those are a lot moreimportant than cutting in line.”
He pitched his voice to match her volume. “Why do you get tomake that decision?”
“I thought I was the Dominant here.”
He stared at her, not seeing her but everything that waswrong with this situation. The lack of communication, their attitudes and mostof all, the missing fun. They laughed and enjoyed themselves. The years hadbuilt a level of intimacy between them, and now it was as if all that work haddisappeared. “This, this isn’t like us. I don’t want this.”
Bianca’s gaze widened, glistening with sudden tears. Herlower lip trembled though she fought to hide it. Sorrow speared him. He didn’twant his wife to cry.
She threw up her hand when he took a step toward her. “Whatare you saying?”
“Christ, B, I don’t want to do this damn race if it’s goingto fuck with our heads.”
She sank down on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped,and stared at the ground, or maybe her toes. He could hear her tremblingbreath, see the tension in the cords of her neck. Clay slid between her and thewardrobe to kneel in front of her and took her hands in his. She stared at thecarpet, her face twisted into a painful mask.
Her fingers were cold to the touch. The stench still clungto their hair and skin, disgusting reminders of the failure of a day they’dhad.
He pushed to his feet, Bianca’s gaze tracking him under thecover of her lashes. She might bust his balls, literally, for this wholefiasco, but he was her husband. He could bend the rules a little.
He scooped her up and settled her slight weight against hischest. The silky material was ice cold, her skin clammy.
She began to wiggle in his grasp. “What are—?”
“Let me take care of you. Please?” Though he spoke in analmost whisper, she stilled.
She didn’t respond, but she relaxed in his hold, leaningagainst his shoulder and curling her hand over his heart, not one protest onher lips.
He breathed a sigh of relief and edged around the bed,careful not to bang her knee on the wardrobe or clock her head against thebedpost. He set her down on the miniscule counter space in the bathroom andturned the shower on.
Bianca watched him, worry lining her brow and pinching herlips. Her green eyes appeared so much larger than normal. She was always so puttogether, the quintessential modern woman, and he admired her for all of herfeminism and femininity.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes. They smell.” He ran hisfingers along the lacy edge of her camisole covering her hips. “May I?”
She lifted her arms in silent permission. The stretchyfabric clung to her skin and had to be peeled off. She shivered and gripped theedge of the counter. She didn’t often allow him to undress her. He wished thecircumstances were different, that he could enjoy the privilege.
When they’d first played within the confines of the club, hehadn’t understood how intimate the process of taking off this woman’s garmentscould be. In those first months she’d never allowed him to so much as removeher shoes.
“Do you remember the first time you gave me permission toundress you?” He studied her face as he lowered to his knees.
Her brows lifted and a crackle of lust zipped between them.Their relationship had still been new, going on barely five months officiallywhen they took that first weekend trip. Before that, he’d been under herprotection for close to a year and was elated they were finally at a moreintimate place in their relationship. Though they’d checked in at a bed andbreakfast, they’d snuck into a nearby hotel pool. Under the cover of starlight,she’d instructed him to remove every stitch of her clothing.
She sucked in a breath. “Of course.”
He slid his hands into her silky panties. When they’d beenat the pool, she’d leaned against a low wall. He’d removed her underwear muchlike this, caressing her with his palms as he pushed them off. Like thatlong-ago night, she kept her legs closed and her pussy unavailable. Instead hekissed her knee and rested his chin against her while he knelt on the ground.
“That’s when I fell in love with you.”
She snorted. “I thought you fell in love with me the firsttime I locked up your balls?”
He laughed against her skin. “Okay, I fell in love with theMistress then, but the woman later.