Laird's Submissive (MF)

Soldiers of Passion 1

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 28,883
4 Ratings (3.5)
[Siren Allure: Erotic Consensual BDSM Romance, flogging, sex toys, HEA]
Layle Evans is bound, gagged, and blindfolded. As a newbie this is beyond her comfort level. Laird, owner of a BDSM club, steps in and saves Layle from obvious distress. Laird's inner Dom demands that he take care of the little sub. Bad memories from Layle’s past come to surface. Being gang raped by fellow comrades haunts her. Layle needs to face her fears and Laird wants to help her. 
Laird Roan never, ever, under any circumstances messes with the subs in his establishment. Especially not ones that have no interest in his kink. Why does the sensual Layle have a pull on him? Is it her determination to push herself and her limits? Or is it that her number one "No" is his kink? Can Laird and Layle find a compromise? Can they find the love that is pulling them together?
A Siren Erotic Romance
Laird's Submissive (MF)
4 Ratings (3.5)

Laird's Submissive (MF)

Soldiers of Passion 1

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 28,883
4 Ratings (3.5)
In Cart
In Wish List
Available formats
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ePub
Mobi
Cover Art by Harris Channing
Reviews
It was really hard to read as the writing was dis-jointed and didn't flow.
AussieGirl
Excerpt

 

STORY EXCERPT

 

Layle dug her keys out of her purse, fingers trembling. She inhaled a shaky breath, closing her eyes. That stupid black mask that Master Jonathan had been wearing flashed through her thoughts. She had had a man wear one of those and do things to her. She gritted her teeth. She refused to let herself go to that place.

“You’re letting your mind wander, little one.” His voice was close and his breath hot on her neck.

She plucked up her keys and slid the key home in the lock. “I’m fine,” she murmured, opening the door, reaching in, and flicking on the light before entering.

Laird’s jaw ticked. He hated seeing this woman scared. A year she had been coming to his club. Four of those months she had sat and watched and observed everything happening around her. She had sat in on every class she could attend, even those for Doms.

Pride had filled him when she had come in on initiation night, dressed in her white lace bustier and beautiful lace thong with garters and cherry-red heels. She had removed those heels and knelt before him, asking to be a part of his club. Her raven locks pinned up and her long slender neck open and waiting for a collar that all the women who wanted to be a permanent part of his club wore. The adoration she’d had in her eyes as he strapped that leather collar around her neck had been scrumptious.

He stepped through her door and glanced around the spacious, brightly decorated apartment. He glanced over his shoulder at her. He never took her as the obscenely bright-colored type.

Layle cleared her throat. “My roommate decorated before she went overseas,” she explained, hanging her purse on the wooden free-standing coat hanger to her left. She slipped her coat off, hanging it, and hugged herself. “I’m good, you can go now,” she whispered.

Laird furrowed his brow. Was that doubt he saw on her face? “Layle…this is your home, so if you don’t want me here just say so,” he ordered.

Layle scrunched up her eyebrows. It wasn’t that she wanted him to leave ever but he made her feel safe. She was just in a bad place and needed to be alone. Being alone had always helped her before. She knew no one could hurt her while she was alone.

Laird chuckled, reaching past her, closing the door, and locking the numerous locks. “There, better?” he asked, removing his overcoat, hanging it, and laying a hand on her lower back. “Show me your home, Layle,” he ordered.

Layle peeked up at him. Her tummy fluttered, and the heat from his hand spread throughout her body. A whole year she had watched him from the corner of her eye. Five months she had craved his touch. Tall, broad, and overpowering was what Laird was. He looked like one of those men who belonged out in the wild, not in the middle of a bustling city. Wavy, abandoned, russet, glossy hair hung over his shoulders, and broad shoulders they were. His waist was thick in the means of she might be able to wrap her puny arms around him, her long legs easily and tightly. She stood eye level with his upper chest but short of his chin.

“It’s not very big,” she whispered.

Laird chuckled. “You didn’t have anything to do with any of the decorating?” he asked, his gaze wandering the room.

Layle stopped in front of a large blank canvas. “That,” she whispered, biting her lower lip. The urge to kneel at his feet was overpowering. She closed her eyes. This wasn’t how she was when she came home. She should be changing into her jeans and T-shirt and lounging on the couch, turning on a horror flick and munching on popcorn.

Laird cocked his head, staring at the blank canvas. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and shit if he didn’t push her to her knees. “Tell me why,” he ordered.

Layle closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of his strength as it seeped through her. She rested her bum on the heels of her feet, spread her legs wide, and clasped her hands behind her back. “It’s blank, the possibilities are endless,” she whispered.

Laird smiled. He liked that answer. He petted her head and sighed as she rested her cheek against his thigh. “Do you spend a lot of time staring at it?” he asked.

Layle released a breath. “Yes,” she answered. How could she not. Her fear of dealing with the real world was too overwhelming to leave the safe confines of her tiny apartment. The club was different. Life didn’t seem so real.

Laird glanced down at her, and his heart hammered against his chest. Sweet bliss, the woman was a good girl. He lowered and crouched in front of her. He hooked a finger under her chin and made her look at him. Pupils dilated, lips slightly parted. He ran his thumb over her lower plump lip. What to do?

 

ADULT EXCERPT

 

Laird rounded the bed, stopping at her nightstand. He cocked his head, opening the top drawer. He nearly whistled at her neatly stored collection of dildos. He glanced over his shoulder at Layle. She stood, cheeks flushed and her eyes averted. “Shy now?” he asked.

Layle bit her lower lip. She closed her eyes in mortification. If only he knew. “It’s not the only drawer,” she whispered. Ah fuck, why did she even open her mouth! Oh yeah. No sub shall lie to their Master. Wait, they were equal here. And as equals he had every right to know how she worked.

Laird raised his brows, closing the drawer and opening the next. A smile came to his face at the assortment of plugs, specific lubes, and a couple of oblong vibrators.

“There’s another drawer,” she whispered.

Laird laughed. “Shit, Layle, you know how to keep variety,” he hummed, closing the drawer and opening the bottom. He chuckled at the variety of little whips. He plucked up a short leather-strapped one, glancing at her. “Tell me, is it you who uses this or Harley?”

Layle shook her head. “None of those have been used…” Her cheeks flushed. “I saw it and liked it so I bought it. It’s cute,” she shared, cringing that he was going through her most personal things.

Laird grinned, nodding. He laid it on the nightstand, closed the drawer, opened the second one, and looked over the selection. “What size?” he asked.

“Medium,” she whispered, a blush covering her face.

Laird nodded, grabbing a large. Time for a change for his little pet. He grabbed up a lube, closed the drawer, and opened the top. He hummed and hawed at the variety, finally grabbing up a hot-pink eight-inch jelly dildo.

He looked over his assortment. “Come here, Layle,” he ordered.

Layle rounded the bed and stood behind him, her lower lip still clenched between her teeth.

“Bend over, rest your body on your bed, and spread your legs,” he ordered.

Layle did as instructed.

Laird smiled as she kept the towel wrapped around her little body. She was such a good girl. He ran his hand along the length of her leg.

Her breath caught, and she stiffened as he traced the large scar on her inner thigh. “They tried to kill you?” he whispered.

Layle inhaled a deep breath, slow to release. “I don’t want to talk about that please.” Not now, not while he touched her.

Laird clenched his teeth. He was going to call a few friends and have some words with people. He was pretty sure no one would miss the ones that were out…Steven now, he might be a bit of a challenge.

His thumb traced the scar, and his hand cupped her pussy. “I want this shaved,” he voiced.

Layle swallowed nervously.

Laird rubbed her ass cheeks, smiling at the small handful she offered. He pressed his hand down on the small of her back, and her ass tilted nicely. “Stay like that,” he ordered, running his finger through her slick juices. His heart’s desire she actually enjoyed this. He ran his wet fingers along her seam, massaging her asshole and smiling as she hummed into the sheets. His finger circled her puckered star, and her hips jerked. His hand was firm as he smacked her cheek.

“Sorry, Sir,” she whispered, stilling her body.

“Better,” he hummed, removing his hands from her.

Layle nearly jumped up in protest. How could he stop touching her! She held her ground, heard the drawer open and close, and felt the soft slither of leather against her ass cheek. Her ass clenched in anticipation.

“You will get none of this if you continue to move, Layle…I would really like to turn this pale skin of yours a flaming red by the end of the night. Do you think you can hold yourself or do we have to find another way to help you with that?”

Layle whimpered. “I can hold myself, Sir,” she panted.

Laird smiled. It was what he wanted to hear. He gave the little flogger a slap across her ass, and the hum that escaped her awakened a hunger in him. “Your safe word is vault,” he ordered.

“Vault,” she repeated, letting him know she heard.

Layle held still as he slapped the light flogger over her ass cheeks. They stung in the most pleasurable way. Her ass heated as he continued his frenzied assault on her ass. “Shit, Layle…so fucking beautiful all red and heated.” He let the flogger fall to the floor, his hands groping her heated ass. He groaned and dipped closer mouth opening over her cheek teeth biting.

Layle bucked at the sharp sensation of his teeth.

Laird’s fingers found her drenched slit, and he slid two home, her hums of want urging him on. He fucked her vigorously with his fingers. He pulled his fingers out and gave her a quick swat.

 

STORY EXCERPT

 

Layle dug her keys out of her purse, fingers trembling. She inhaled a shaky breath, closing her eyes. That stupid black mask that Master Jonathan had been wearing flashed through her thoughts. She had had a man wear one of those and do things to her. She gritted her teeth. She refused to let herself go to that place.

“You’re letting your mind wander, little one.” His voice was close and his breath hot on her neck.

She plucked up her keys and slid the key home in the lock. “I’m fine,” she murmured, opening the door, reaching in, and flicking on the light before entering.

Laird’s jaw ticked. He hated seeing this woman scared. A year she had been coming to his club. Four of those months she had sat and watched and observed everything happening around her. She had sat in on every class she could attend, even those for Doms.

Pride had filled him when she had come in on initiation night, dressed in her white lace bustier and beautiful lace thong with garters and cherry-red heels. She had removed those heels and knelt before him, asking to be a part of his club. Her raven locks pinned up and her long slender neck open and waiting for a collar that all the women who wanted to be a permanent part of his club wore. The adoration she’d had in her eyes as he strapped that leather collar around her neck had been scrumptious.

He stepped through her door and glanced around the spacious, brightly decorated apartment. He glanced over his shoulder at her. He never took her as the obscenely bright-colored type.

Layle cleared her throat. “My roommate decorated before she went overseas,” she explained, hanging her purse on the wooden free-standing coat hanger to her left. She slipped her coat off, hanging it, and hugged herself. “I’m good, you can go now,” she whispered.

Laird furrowed his brow. Was that doubt he saw on her face? “Layle…this is your home, so if you don’t want me here just say so,” he ordered.

Layle scrunched up her eyebrows. It wasn’t that she wanted him to leave ever but he made her feel safe. She was just in a bad place and needed to be alone. Being alone had always helped her before. She knew no one could hurt her while she was alone.

Laird chuckled, reaching past her, closing the door, and locking the numerous locks. “There, better?” he asked, removing his overcoat, hanging it, and laying a hand on her lower back. “Show me your home, Layle,” he ordered.

Layle peeked up at him. Her tummy fluttered, and the heat from his hand spread throughout her body. A whole year she had watched him from the corner of her eye. Five months she had craved his touch. Tall, broad, and overpowering was what Laird was. He looked like one of those men who belonged out in the wild, not in the middle of a bustling city. Wavy, abandoned, russet, glossy hair hung over his shoulders, and broad shoulders they were. His waist was thick in the means of she might be able to wrap her puny arms around him, her long legs easily and tightly. She stood eye level with his upper chest but short of his chin.

“It’s not very big,” she whispered.

Laird chuckled. “You didn’t have anything to do with any of the decorating?” he asked, his gaze wandering the room.

Layle stopped in front of a large blank canvas. “That,” she whispered, biting her lower lip. The urge to kneel at his feet was overpowering. She closed her eyes. This wasn’t how she was when she came home. She should be changing into her jeans and T-shirt and lounging on the couch, turning on a horror flick and munching on popcorn.

Laird cocked his head, staring at the blank canvas. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and shit if he didn’t push her to her knees. “Tell me why,” he ordered.

Layle closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of his strength as it seeped through her. She rested her bum on the heels of her feet, spread her legs wide, and clasped her hands behind her back. “It’s blank, the possibilities are endless,” she whispered.

Laird smiled. He liked that answer. He petted her head and sighed as she rested her cheek against his thigh. “Do you spend a lot of time staring at it?” he asked.

Layle released a breath. “Yes,” she answered. How could she not. Her fear of dealing with the real world was too overwhelming to leave the safe confines of her tiny apartment. The club was different. Life didn’t seem so real.

Laird glanced down at her, and his heart hammered against his chest. Sweet bliss, the woman was a good girl. He lowered and crouched in front of her. He hooked a finger under her chin and made her look at him. Pupils dilated, lips slightly parted. He ran his thumb over her lower plump lip. What to do?

 

ADULT EXCERPT

 

Laird rounded the bed, stopping at her nightstand. He cocked his head, opening the top drawer. He nearly whistled at her neatly stored collection of dildos. He glanced over his shoulder at Layle. She stood, cheeks flushed and her eyes averted. “Shy now?” he asked.

Layle bit her lower lip. She closed her eyes in mortification. If only he knew. “It’s not the only drawer,” she whispered. Ah fuck, why did she even open her mouth! Oh yeah. No sub shall lie to their Master. Wait, they were equal here. And as equals he had every right to know how she worked.

Laird raised his brows, closing the drawer and opening the next. A smile came to his face at the assortment of plugs, specific lubes, and a couple of oblong vibrators.

“There’s another drawer,” she whispered.

Laird laughed. “Shit, Layle, you know how to keep variety,” he hummed, closing the drawer and opening the bottom. He chuckled at the variety of little whips. He plucked up a short leather-strapped one, glancing at her. “Tell me, is it you who uses this or Harley?”

Layle shook her head. “None of those have been used…” Her cheeks flushed. “I saw it and liked it so I bought it. It’s cute,” she shared, cringing that he was going through her most personal things.

Laird grinned, nodding. He laid it on the nightstand, closed the drawer, opened the second one, and looked over the selection. “What size?” he asked.

“Medium,” she whispered, a blush covering her face.

Laird nodded, grabbing a large. Time for a change for his little pet. He grabbed up a lube, closed the drawer, and opened the top. He hummed and hawed at the variety, finally grabbing up a hot-pink eight-inch jelly dildo.

He looked over his assortment. “Come here, Layle,” he ordered.

Layle rounded the bed and stood behind him, her lower lip still clenched between her teeth.

“Bend over, rest your body on your bed, and spread your legs,” he ordered.

Layle did as instructed.

Laird smiled as she kept the towel wrapped around her little body. She was such a good girl. He ran his hand along the length of her leg.

Her breath caught, and she stiffened as he traced the large scar on her inner thigh. “They tried to kill you?” he whispered.

Layle inhaled a deep breath, slow to release. “I don’t want to talk about that please.” Not now, not while he touched her.

Laird clenched his teeth. He was going to call a few friends and have some words with people. He was pretty sure no one would miss the ones that were out…Steven now, he might be a bit of a challenge.

His thumb traced the scar, and his hand cupped her pussy. “I want this shaved,” he voiced.

Layle swallowed nervously.

Laird rubbed her ass cheeks, smiling at the small handful she offered. He pressed his hand down on the small of her back, and her ass tilted nicely. “Stay like that,” he ordered, running his finger through her slick juices. His heart’s desire she actually enjoyed this. He ran his wet fingers along her seam, massaging her asshole and smiling as she hummed into the sheets. His finger circled her puckered star, and her hips jerked. His hand was firm as he smacked her cheek.

“Sorry, Sir,” she whispered, stilling her body.

“Better,” he hummed, removing his hands from her.

Layle nearly jumped up in protest. How could he stop touching her! She held her ground, heard the drawer open and close, and felt the soft slither of leather against her ass cheek. Her ass clenched in anticipation.

“You will get none of this if you continue to move, Layle…I would really like to turn this pale skin of yours a flaming red by the end of the night. Do you think you can hold yourself or do we have to find another way to help you with that?”

Layle whimpered. “I can hold myself, Sir,” she panted.

Laird smiled. It was what he wanted to hear. He gave the little flogger a slap across her ass, and the hum that escaped her awakened a hunger in him. “Your safe word is vault,” he ordered.

“Vault,” she repeated, letting him know she heard.

Layle held still as he slapped the light flogger over her ass cheeks. They stung in the most pleasurable way. Her ass heated as he continued his frenzied assault on her ass. “Shit, Layle…so fucking beautiful all red and heated.” He let the flogger fall to the floor, his hands groping her heated ass. He groaned and dipped closer mouth opening over her cheek teeth biting.

Layle bucked at the sharp sensation of his teeth.

Laird’s fingers found her drenched slit, and he slid two home, her hums of want urging him on. He fucked her vigorously with his fingers. He pulled his fingers out and gave her a quick swat.

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