[Siren Classic: Erotic Consensual BDSM Romance, spanking, whipping, sex toys, HEA]
Dave Cutticio's slow climb from the depths of despair following his tour in Afghanistan began with waking up after a drunken rampage to a lovely young woman tenderly bathing his battered face. Fearing his dark, unfettered desire for the innocent Fiona Lambert, Dave returns to Tulsa and finds employment at his comrade-in-arms' BDSM Club. He capitalizes on his dominant side and also receives personal therapy, coming to believe that he soon needs to return to Fiona and tell her a formal good-bye. Especially now that he is a Dom.
Fiona circumvents him, showing up at the club to proclaim her love. Dave is not yet ready to accept that she feels more for him than sympathy and affection. Rejected, Fiona seeks out another BDSM club to explore her own dark needs and try to heal her broken heart. When Dave is invited to tour Unleashed, the newly trained Dom and sub are reunited in a blaze of passion.
A Siren Erotic Romance
- Barefoot Okie
4 STARS: "Apt was another fine offering by Allyson Young. It was more of a novella than a full length book, but there was good character development in spite of the brevity. Upon returning from a tour of duty in Afghanistan, Dave is totally messed up and self destructive when Fiona takes pity on him and starts the healing process. Afraid he will hurt her, Dave runs off in the night, only later sending a note that he was okay. As part of his healing process he becomes a Dom with the Club in Tulsa as well as seeing a counselor. But when Fiona shows up at the club, Dave freaks out and sends her away. Crushed by his rejection, Fiona remains in Tulsa anyway, joining a different BDSM Club to explore her own submissive nature. Andrew, owner of the other club, takes her under his wing and she becomes part of the family. Just when Dave has decided to find Fiona and try to make it up to her, his boss suggests a visit to the other club and he finds Fiona there. While I would have liked Fiona to have made things a bit more challenging and have been less than a saint, this was still a very satisfying read." -- Shadow, Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews
“Fiona?” She froze mid chuckle, and the notebook dropped from her nerveless fingers into her purse. She made herself turn and look. Dave stood just inside the big double doors in jeans and a button-down shirt, his blond hair now cut short, his face cleanly shaven. He positively radiated good health, even if his eyes were wide with shock. She managed to stand and wished she could run to him and throw herself into his arms, except his amethyst eyes were now narrowed and cold, holding her at bay. She thought at first to keep her distance, and her heart sank to her shoes before she grabbed her courage in both hands.
“Hello, Dave.” She threw caution to the winds, dropped her purse and hurried to him. She pressed herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. For a moment he relaxed against her, and his big biceps closed around her shoulders before dropping away. He stepped back, forcing her to loosen her hold, and stared down at her.
“Why are you here? How did you find me?” His arctic tone made her heart shrivel. It was hardly the reunion she’d envisioned, but she was determined to make it right.
“You sent me a letter, so I came to the address on the envelope.”
“I wrote you to let you know I was fine, to thank you and your parents and say a formal good-bye. I wanted to apologize for not saying it when I left.”
Fiona drew in a calming breath. “You left in the middle of the night, Dave. Hardly a time to say good-bye to people who care about you and were worried sick for months until we got your note.” She heard her voice rising with a hint of tears and struggled to remain overtly unaffected. She wouldn’t use emotion against him.
* * * *
Dave didn’t know how to respond. She was here. Here in the Club. He’d just figured out that he needed to tell her he’d moved on, say his farewells face-to-face, and she’d circumvented his careful plan. He couldn’t allow it. He wasn’t good for her. He was a Dom, and she was a nice, sweet girl. A good girl. She was submissive but not a sub. He wasn’t making any sense in his own head, but he just knew she shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t ready. This was his fault again. And the confusion and high anxiety made him cruel. “I sent the note for closure, Fiona. I thought I’d been clear.”
She reared back as if he’d slapped her. He might as well have. He tried to mitigate what he’d said. “I’ve been working through my shit, uh, my stuff, Fiona. I’ve been seeing a real therapist.” And she works me over during her off time, too. “With her help I’d decided to go and see you and your folks to apologize and make my good-byes final, I mean, really formal.”
“A real therapist?” Fiona’s faint response made Dave realize he’d just minimized all her efforts to love him out of his PTSD. Fuck. He was just digging the hole deeper. Hurting her.
“Dr. Massey is also training Dave to be a Dom, Fiona. You’ll like her. She’s a wonderful therapist.” And now his sister was shoveling right along beside him, like he really needed the help. Dave turned the conversation back to Fiona.
“Why did you come, Fiona?”
He could tell she debated answering and without really considering it, fixed her with a Dom look. She blinked and looked at the floor. Shit. Submissive. “I came to find you, Dave, because I love you and I missed you.” Her explanation was barely audible but loud enough for him to hear.
It was his turn to blink. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? She loved him. Just as he loved her. But it was impossible to go that route. He was a Dom, and she was a good girl. He shook his head, conflicted. Her words hung between them and then crumbled to the floor when he said nothing in return. Fiona’s eyes brimmed with tears, and her mouth trembled. She looked around the room wildly to where Jackie watched in apparent fury and Ashley looked resigned. He could still redeem this. He could reach for Fiona, dominate her with his personality and make amends, but he was too afraid. Dr. Massey’s raised eyebrow popped into his head, and he shook it again. Fiona’s hurt blue eyes focused on the motion, shifting to a troubled gray.
“I’m sorry I embarrassed you, Dave. I haven’t changed, so I guess I thought, I hoped, you wouldn’t have, either. I apologize.”
Fuck, she was such a lady, such a well-mannered girl, and she was walking away to pick up that ridiculously huge purse she always carried. He swore she could go anywhere with that bag and live out of it for a week. He struggled to say something, anything, and then evil fate once again intervened to fuck him right up the ass. Max and Meredith walked into the Club, the good doctor wearing her famed red stilettos and her tight, fire-engine-red dress. Fiona stood there with that damn purse held like a shield between them, clearly struggling to control her emotions, and Meredith immediately responded as the shrink she was.
“Hello. Meredith Massey.” Dave watched numbly as Fiona stared at Meredith’s outstretched hand and then at her face. Her stunning eyes cleared of the unshed tears, and something cold and calm entered them. Her lips firmed, and her face tightened. His girl had guts and spirit to balance her submissive nature, but he could only guess at what it cost her.
“Fiona Lambert.” She touched her fingers to Dr. Massey’s and nodded to her before walking past, her slender little body erect, taut to the point of breaking, and Dave just watched her go. His feet felt glued to the floor. She managed to haul one heavy door open and slipped through it. The door quietly swung shut, and silence ensued.
He kissed her like she was some fragile vessel at first, learning her again, and then deepened the kiss. She opened for him and let him plunder the recesses of her mouth, tasting him, his spice and manliness, and she erupted with lust, all former orgasmic languor dissipating. This then was the natural state of things, the ultimate culmination of all that had been suggested before in their intimate moments. She had waited so long. She held him to her, lacing her fingers through the short lengths of his hair, desperate for him. He allowed her the aggression for a moment and then took her hands to pin them with one of his. His mouth released hers, and she cried out for him, but he kissed and licked his way down her neck, tasting each inch like a starving man. She let herself feel. He arrived at her breast, and Fiona heard herself begging and pleading with him. He laved the responsive tips before sucking one into his mouth and trapping the nipple against his palate. The pinch and burn made her writhe, and he shifted his weight to hold her steady against the tender assault. He repeated the maneuver on her other bud, and Fiona flailed her legs. She couldn’t bear it. She sucked in air to plead with him.
“Be still.” The throaty command made her pussy clench, and arousal flooded her channel. She tried to obey and was rewarded with the touch of his fingers over her mound, and one clever digit slipped between her folds and tantalized her private flesh. She let her thighs fall farther apart, and he rotated the heel of his hand against her in response. It reminded her clit of what had transpired not long ago, and that little nub throbbed in response. He didn’t touch it directly, but the pressure and movement had her holding her breath and anticipating. This time she did plead.
“Please, Dave. Please.”
“Tell me what you want.” He slid farther down her body, and that sneaky tongue lapped at her navel while her breasts cooled and longed for him to return.
“I need you, Dave.”
“I want you to make love to me. Please.”
He went so still that Fiona wondered what she’d said, what she’d done wrong.
“Fiona,” he groaned, like a man in huge pain.
Before she could ask, he lunged up over her and took her breath again, his hand blindly reaching to the little nightstand. He licked over her lips and pulled away. She watched dumbly as he tore open the little packet and extracted the condom. He sheathed himself with a remarkable economy of movement, and jealousy sparked, and her breath hitched. He instantly paid attention.
“What is it?”
“You’re so good at that.”
He laughed, the sound somehow not incongruous, for it seemed to come from a place deep within him. “It’s not from recent practice, sweetheart, I assure you. It’s because of intense need and the fact that I’m not going to knock you up for a long time yet.”
Fiona was both thrilled and amazed at his temerity. She would think about that later. She wiggled her hips beneath him, and his eyes darkened to violet, visible even in the dim light. He reached to push one finger up inside of her, and she winced when he added another but knew he was assuring himself of her readiness. She needed him too much to care and arched into him. He pulled his fingers out and unabashedly licked them clean.
“I’ll really taste my pussy another time, Fiona. But we’ve both waited far too long for this.” This was the nudge of his cock against her opening as he reached to guide himself. He inched forward and watched her intently as he pushed inside. He felt impossibly big, and Fiona wondered if Andrew’s refusal to use dildos had been a mistake, wondered if confiding her virgin status had been a mistake. But she trusted Dave and loved him. She made herself relax and lovingly drifted her hands over his shoulders and upper arms as he fought for a place deep inside her body. He allowed her touch, despite all she’d read about Doms demanding total control and permitting their subs to lay their hands on them only when they approved it.
He rested his forehead on hers, and his scent enveloped her, heightening her senses. He stared into her soul, and she felt his empathy when he surged deep, hurting her and filling her all at the same time. He waited for her to adjust, reading her, and she experimentally squeezed herself around him and reveled in his groan.
“I can’t wait, sweetheart. Hold on.”