[Siren Sensations: Erotic Contemporary Consensual BDSM Interracial Romance, spanking, sex toys, HEA]
Between losing her job, surviving cancer, and her long-term Dom dumping her, Meri’s hit rock-bottom. When her Dom of a little brother unexpectedly shows up on her doorstep in St. Louis with a moving truck to bring her home with him, she’s ready to go.
Tymber Dalton is a Siren-exclusive author.
Meredith had to admit that Eliza had knocked this one clear out of the park despite the little hiccup of her previous relationship to Wynn. She had to keep fighting the urge to call him Mister Dub, though.
Force of habit.
She didn’t want to fetishize him, but…damn, he was hot. No, now that she was seated next to him it was easier to see him as he really was, but there was no denying at a distance he definitely could be the movie star. They settled into their seats and Meredith found herself almost too distracted to peruse the menu.
It was hard to pull her gaze from him.
The teacher she remembered had been tall and thin, head full of hair and perpetually smiling. The only time he ever lost his smile was when he got intensely into a lesson, teaching them about whatever book it was they were working on, or the lesson, something he was passionate about.
“Any children?” she asked.
“No. Been divorced for a long time.”
“I’m surprised I’m not having to beat women off you with a stick. So why are you still single?”
“How long you got?” His sad smile moved something inside her. “I carried the wrong torch for too long. And I haven’t looked like this for too many years, either. Took a lot to rebuild my body.”
She blanched, thinking about what she’d gone through—what she still wished she could have done, but which was out of reach, for now. “My ex turned out to be a dick,” she said. “When I needed him the most, he checked out. Literally. Thank god for Ron.”
“Are your parents still alive?”
“They’re dead to both of us.” She wanly smiled. “Fair warning—my little brother is my hero and my life, and he’s gay. If that’s a problem for you, do us both a favor and tell me now.”
He shrugged. “Don’t matter to me, long as he’s with consenting adults.”
She breathed a sigh of relief, but before she could speak, Wynn did. “Let me guess—they weren’t happy when he came out?”
“Right out of high school, and they threw him out. Disowned him. I was already away at college in St. Louis, but he was able to move in with a friend. Now he’s an electrician, has a great life, and he came to St. Louis not once, but twice, to rescue my ass when I needed him the most.”
“Is that why you moved back?”
“I lost my job due to downsizing. Then…a bunch of stuff happened at once. Had to sell my condo, and Ron showed up with a moving truck and wouldn’t take no for an answer. So here I am.” She didn’t want to dig too deeply into their rough patches tonight.
What she really wanted to do was give him a lap dance, but that would be frowned upon in a family establishment.
Instead, she focused on the, ironically, easier conversation to have. “So tell me about your kink interests?”
Meredith stared up into his eyes, heat pooling around her clit as he slowly finger-fucked her. He watched her, intense, slowly lowering his lips just over hers.
“Is that good, baby?”
Better than good, it was fanfuckingtastic.
Peter had trouble finding her clit with both hands and a goddamned searchlight-enabled GPS, unless he had his face between her thighs. Then he was great.
But with his clueless fingers? They couldn’t do the walking, because they were too busy doing what felt more like a drunken stumble.
Elvin had a magic touch that was quickly driving her toward the edge.
Warm breath brushed across her lips. “Let me hear you come for me, Meri.”
Like that, she was there, not just at the edge but over it and falling. The smile that lit his features before he closed the gap and kissed her spun her heart sideways toward him.
His fingers slowed, then stopped, remaining buried inside her pussy. He devoured her mouth. She reached up and held him in place, her hand hooked around the back of his head and eagerly kissing him. When he slowly pulled his fingers from her pussy and brought them up, her mouth opened automatically, trained response, she belatedly realized.
But then he sucked her juices off them and kissed her again, rolling her onto her back before he sat up. “I want more of that.” He moved down her body, shouldering her thighs apart. Then he was there, face buried in her pussy and his tongue circling her clit.
Her world unhinged, especially when his hands closed around her wrists, holding her in place and quickly tipping her over the edge into another orgasm.
With a mind of their own her hips rocked against his mouth, wanting more, needing it, her heart already knowing this wasn’t their last and only time together. This was the start of something magic and deep and scary in some really good ways.
Let your scars talk to mine.
She couldn’t have told anyone how long she lay there or how many times he made her come. But as she caught her breath, she realized he was up and under the shirt, kissing a trail north from her navel toward the base of her throat.
Through a valley that no longer existed.
Her first instinct was to want to push him away, keep him from exploring, but he was faster. He once again pinned her wrists to the bed, this time sitting up, and letting the shirt puddle around her armpits.
His gaze fixed her in place. “Stay,” he whispered, releasing her wrists.
He lowered his head and traced the bottom edge of her ribcage with his lips, still watching her as he did. Across her torso, down the other side, waiting to see if she’d resist. “We do this,” he softly said, “then we do it. We get to that point, you’ll belong to me, every bit of you, and I won’t let you hide any of you from me. We clear?”
She slowly nodded.
Kissing down to her navel, his tongue traced circles around the outside of it, up again. He caught her wrists and placed her hands over her head, then took the T-shirt and pulled it up, over her head, until it lay around her wrists. He twisted it just enough in his fist that it held her in place, although she suspected if she resisted that he’d release her.
He lowered his body over hers and she started grinding against him again, hooking a leg around him, wishing he’d remove his damn shorts so she could go down on him!
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
“Please let me suck your cock, Sir.”
“You want a condom for that?”
“No, Sir.” She hated oral over a rubber, and they had test results.
He rolled onto his back, loosening his grip on her wrists but holding the T-shirt. When she pulled her hands free, he lobbed the shirt off the bed.
No more hiding.
One of her favorite things was sucking a cock, being face-fucked with it, every messy choking second of it. As she finally opened his fly and slid his shorts and briefs off him, she resisted the urge to throw her head back and howl with joy.
The man was hung.
A gorgeous, thick, eight inches, cut, just waiting for her to devour. She took him all the way down, the last little bit gagging her, but she made herself take it.
Wanted to take it.
He was hard and there was no lying about that reaction. She pulled off to the head, enjoying his moans and the sweetly salty taste of pre-cum leaking from the slit. Grabbing his hands, she put them on her head and her moans merged with his when he gently nudged her to take him deeper into her mouth.
She palmed his dark, heavy sac in one hand, more deep, rumbling moans meeting her efforts. In her mind, she could already envision plenty of afternoons together just like this, on her knees in front of him at the sofa, or maybe under his desk in his home office while he tried to grade papers.
Then he pulled her off his cock and back up into his arms to kiss her. “Baby, I’m gonna blow if you keep that up, and I want to fuck you.” He held up a condom pouch and she grabbed it from him, ripping it open and quickly sheathing him.