Wyk's Surrender (1Night Stand Series) Read online

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  Wyk’s Surrender

  Copyright © 2013 by Dakota Trace

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-592-5

  Cover art by Mina Carter

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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  www.decadentpublishing.com

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  Wyk’s Surrender

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  Dakota Trace

  Chapter One

  “Please, Mistress!” The naked man trembled at her feet, every inch of his creamy mocha skin glistening with sweat. His shoulders flexed and strained, as he tugged at the jute restraints at the base of his back. She loved the contrast of the off-white material and his dark arms. His head, shaved bare at her request, hung down with his chin on his chest. In between his splayed thighs, rose his cock, long and hard. A shiny trail of moisture on the thickly veined shaft tempted her to taste. Everything, from his submissive pose to his arousal and subsequent plea, sent a fresh jolt of desire down her spine.

  Her submissive, the man who’d placed his trust in her, inhaled sharply when the flogger hit her leg with a loud crack. In the past, he’d begged to feel her favorite toy against his back, or any other part of him she chose. Tapping the flogger, she moved around him, drawing his attention with her studied movements. Dragging the strands over his shoulder as she circled him, she hid her smile. The mirrors showed her every moment, if he dared to peek. And he’d dare, if only to get caught.

  “What do you want, slave?” With a flick of her wrist, she released him.

  “Anything you’ll give me, Mistress.”

  She frowned at the standard but routine reply. She wouldn’t accept generic from her submissive. He would reveal his secrets, his desires, and entrust them to her without reservation. She would settle for nothing less.

  “That is not what I asked, slave.” She continued to circle his kneeling form, coming to a stop in front of him.

  “It’s all I have to give, Mistress.” His voice was rough as his chest rose and fell erratically.

  Her hand went to her hip. A low hiss passed her lips. His frustration should be sexual and despite his obvious erection, she hadn’t pushed him that far yet. Using the handle of the flogger, she lifted his chin to chastise him, to demand he give her the answers she wanted. The words died on the tip of her tongue as the dark honeyed eyes of Chadwyk “Wyk” Havas pinned her in place. The lust, anger, and desperation in her boss’s gaze took her breath away, even as it stroked her need to dominate higher. Her empty sheath clenched hard, a trickle of cream escaped her, and her nipples hardened against her corset. Wyk would give her what she wanted. Here in her playroom he had no authority. She was the one in charge....

  The strident blast of Venus Spinazzola-Navarro’s alarm tore her from her torrid dream to start the day. She jerked upright in bed, the sun streaming through her window. Pushing the silk sheets away from her overheated body, she cradled her head. She fought for the hard won control she’d learned at Master Wong’s side. Nothing more than a dream. Mr. Havas didn’t belong to her. He didn’t sleep at her side, nor would he ever. As his executive assistant, she would never mix business and pleasure, even if she thought the man willing. Which he isn’t. When it came up during some after-work drinks, his vocal distain for the lifestyle had cut her to the core. So why was she still dreaming about the unattainable?

  Perhaps she should contact Master Wong. Maybe he could give her some answers. She’d resisted the urge so far; her mentor would advise her not to pursue such a man. Plenty of other submissive males existed out there. And that she, an experienced Domme, could have her pick. She could crook her finger, and despite or perhaps because of her well-rounded figure, they would come running. She didn’t have to settle for erotic dreams that left her damp with unsatisfied desire. But none of the men at the club appealed to her. None had even nudged her need to dominate.

  “Which is why this has to work. That damned matchmaker better come through.”

  Naked as usual, she crossed her darkened bedroom to the ornate master bathroom. As a larger-than-average woman, she’d taken one look at the tiny bathing stall and called the plumber. It’d taken a couple weeks after she purchased the condo for them to install the spacious state-of-the-art walk-in shower but at times like these, she didn’t regret the expense and time.

  Opening the glass door, she stepped inside the huge tiled monstrosity and cranked on the water. Various nozzles came to life as her pre-programmed settings adjusted the temperature and pressure so when she stepped under the spray the water pounded over her body. It could almost peel her skin off. She sighed. Just the way I like it. She braced her hands against the slick wall in front of her and closed her eyes.

  As the water massaged her body, she forced Wyk from her mind. Instead, she focused on her future blind date. The one Xaviera had talked her into. She’d almost backed out once she’d received the long questionnaire and background check she’d had to complete, but Xaviera wouldn’t let her. Her cousin had harped and bullied her into going forward. She’d insisted this would be the perfect solution for her problem. And after meeting her relative’s fiancé, a wonderful man Madame Evangeline had set her up with, she could only pray the matchmaker would have the same luck with her. It would take a miracle to find the perfect submissive man to exorcise Wyk Havas from her dreams, so she could move on with her life. But she had to get through a morning of work, face the object of her lust, and resist temptation before she could board the plane to Vegas for Xaviera’s wedding that evening. It would be a long day.

  ***

  Wyk Havas groaned, driving his fist up and down his length. The act shamed him, even as it sent dark, forbidden pleasure through him. Hard and swollen, his cock and groin were tight with need. Once again, he’d sought refuge in the small bathroom off
his office. Masturbating at work because of his assistant had become a habit. The beautiful, frumpy, curvaceous Venus was his personal Botticelli. Her Rubenesque form caused his hands to itch with the need to touch, while his mouth hungered for her taste. He’d tried to resist. Denied his lust for weeks until the pressure became unbearable.

  He’d first given in to the need for private release after coming upon her bent over one of the low filing cabinets. The move pulled her slacks tight across her voluptuous ass, outlining every curve. He’d emerged from his office to ask her about a missing form in a client’s file. His mouth had gone dry, his cock hard, and he’d crushed the file in his hands before he’d realized what he was doing. If it hadn’t been for another co-worker’s arrival, he’d have sunk to his knees behind her and begged her to let him taste every inch of the rounded surface. The need had shaken him to the core and he’d escaped into the bathroom where he’d jerked off. After a half-dozen strokes, he’d sprayed the sink with his release. Afterward, he hadn’t been able to look at himself in the mirror. He’d vowed it wouldn’t happen again.

  But it had been a promise he’d broken, over and over. At first, only every couple of weeks, but as he’d begun to peel away Venus’s outer prickly layers, it became a weekly, then almost a daily occurrence. The inner strength under her conservative pantsuits and competent skills as his assistant turned him on faster than a stripper clad in pasties and a thong. Almost as much as the conversation he’d overheard.

  He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop when he’d tried to dial out to check on his reservations for his flight to Las Vegas, but he hadn’t hung up when he heard her voice either. He’d damned near dropped the phone, when Venus said she planned to use her “date” in every way imaginable, until she drove some damned man out of her dreams. He’d eased the receiver back on to its cradle after she giggled and began to describe some of the things she planned to do to the unsuspecting man. Then he’d fled to the bathroom, tearing at his zipper until he’d freed his cock.

  Palming his shaft, he groaned. How he wanted to be the lucky man to receive her attentions. To give her what she needed, to give up his control and let her do what she willed with his body. It didn’t matter that his dad had always told him that as a proud black man he should never bow down to another. He wanted the forbidden. To have her order him around, demand he please her. His grip tightened as her stern voice warned him against coming, insisting he hold his release until she gave permission. His breath grew more ragged as his orgasm approached. His balls drew up tight. His arm trembled; his hips thrust. He was so close.

  “Mr. Havas?” Venus’s voice floated through the door. He gritted his teeth to keep from calling her to him. If she so much as touched the bathroom door, he’d fall to his knees and beg her to let him taste her, to love her.

  “Damnit, where did that prick go to now? If he’s left the office again without telling me, I’ll take a single-tail to his ass, boss or not. How many times do I have to tell him I can do my job better if he’d simply let me know when he steps out?” Frustration filled her voice.

  His assistant always wanted to know when he left the office or went to meetings. The dark promise in her tone, however, stroked over him, and he lost it. He bit down on his lower lip to keep from screaming and pulled hard on his dick. Lightning raced up his spine as his seed exploded over the white porcelain basin. He shook through his climax, every nerve alive with pleasure, until he sank to the floor, exhausted but exhilarated.

  When the outer door to the office clicked shut, he clutched the edge of the sink and levered himself into an upright position. His rumpled reflection in the mirror stared back at him. He couldn’t go on like this. Something had to give. He’d either fire Venus and hire a new assistant, or go on this damned 1Night Stand blind date thing and see if he could give over to a woman. He’d thought the idea absurd when Nate, a friend from back home, had told him how he’d met his blind heiress, but he was desperate. If this Madame Eve could set him up with a Domme, and he found he could let go, there was a chance—a slight one, he might be able to earn Venus’s forgiveness along with a place in her life.

  Washing his hands, Wyk made his choice. Fantasizing about his assistant telling him how to pleasure her, commanding his responses, even punishing him when he slipped, kept him up at night. Until, scared and sleep-deprived, he’d put his foot in his own mouth. He still regretted the evening Venus had mentioned how she enjoyed dominating men in her personal life, and he’d panicked and he’d chosen to degrade the very thing he wanted.

  Hopefully this date will be a step in the right direction. Maybe it will prove how wrong I was when I ridiculed her choice of lifestyle.

  Chapter Two

  “I can’t freakin’ believe I’m doing this,” Venus muttered as she shed the fussy chiffon dress she’d donned earlier in the evening as Xaviera’s maid of honor. Out of sorts due to her struggle to ignore Wyk as he did his duty as Nate’s best man, she was ready to jump out of her own skin. When she’d agreed to make the arrangements, she hadn’t been aware of his role in the wedding. Nate had referred to him as Chad, a name foreign to her. To her, he’d always been the irresistible, got her panties wet Wyk. It had been a surprise to walk into the area they’d roped off for Xaviera’s wedding and see him dressed in a midnight blue tux, as handsome in formal wear as in his slacks and polo shirts. His smirk had grated on her nerves.

  Despite the tension between her and her boss, her cousin’s wedding in front of a charming fountain was beautiful. Xaviera, a vision of loveliness in a lacy, cream-colored gown with modest train. Nate, her groom, had appeared ruggedly handsome in a classic black tuxedo despite the faint scars on his neck and jaw. But Lucy, Xaviera’s seeing-eye dog, sitting between them with tendrils of baby’s breath woven around her harness, had stolen the show. The beautiful black lab was one of the best-behaved dogs Venus ever had the pleasure of meeting. Lucy had even woofed when the minister had asked who gave the bride in marriage, causing a chuckle. Then, of course, came Nate and Xaviera’s vows. They had been simple but poignant and the kiss so sweet, Venus’s heart had nearly melted. Well, until the innocent peck had warped into something hotter, and she’d been tempted to push both of them into the fountain to cool them off.

  Once the reception started and the bride and groom cut the cake, she’d slipped away, determined to put “you know who” from her mind. She would enjoy her date, even if it killed her. Wyk would probably find a fawning female who wouldn’t mind letting his charm sweep her off her feet and into his bed. Plenty of available women wandered about the Castillo’s flagship hotel. Instead of dwelling on his plans, she’d focus on get ready for her late night rendezvous with the man Madame Eve had picked for her.

  Tossing the dress over the end of her still immaculately made bed, she paused by the array of items she’d placed out earlier in preparation. Sex wasn’t promised, but if things went as she hoped, she would have a chance to use these on her very willing date. She trailed her fingers from the flogger to the silk sleep mask she planned to use as a blindfold, and let her mind wander to her plan of attack for the evening like every well-prepared Domme did.

  The information packet Madame Eve had faxed to her at the hotel contained a wealth of information about her date. More than normal, if Venus were to guess, because of her particular requests. But it would give her a guideline of what the man wanted, so in turn he could give her what she needed. The possibility of training a man who longed to be submissive but had no real experience with the lifestyle stroked her libido higher, while it satisfied an emotional urge as well.

  Was she asking for a stand-in for the man she wanted? Yep. But maybe the reality of dealing with a newbie would cure her of her craving to the point she wouldn’t long to jump Wyk every time she saw him. The flogger, restraints, blindfold, and simple leather collar went into the small black bag already holding an adjustable cock ring, anal plug, and a never-opened box of condoms. As prepared as she could be, she took it out to the sitting room and ret
urned to the bedroom.

  Walking over to the small table in the corner, she skimmed the file’s contents once more. Her date was a black man who worked in a position of power in his vanilla life, but requested anonymity for his foray into the BDSM world. He had stated a need for a strong woman, capable of taking charge; one who understood her needs and wasn’t afraid of expressing them.

  “Well, buddy, I hope you realize what you asked for. As desperate as I am, you may not be able to do anything other than moan when I’m through with you.”

  She tossed the sheaf of papers back on the table and squeezed the bridge of her nose to stave off her half-assed headache. At that moment, she just wanted to crawl into bed and snuggle up against a hard shoulder. Between her torrid dream this morning, the disappearing act her boss had pulled, the long flight from Chicago to Las Vegas, and the last minute madness for Xaviera’s wedding, the soon-to-be migraine had crept up on her. Perhaps a hot shower and a light meal would put her to rights. She wouldn’t waste this once in a lifetime chance to exorcise a certain man from her fantasies. After placing an order with room service, she headed toward the bathroom.

  ***

  Wyk wiped his damp palm over his slightly bristled scalp. Directions from his date passed through his brain even as he listened to the voice on the other end of the cellphone. He had to shave again, and his toiletry bag lay buried somewhere in his suitcase. The spectacular lights of the Vegas strip shone through his parted curtains. Not that he could give it the attention it merited. He was too busy trying to distract his dad. The last thing he would tell his strict Catholic father was he didn’t have time to talk because he had to get ready for a date. His dad would want to know particulars about the woman he couldn’t even begin to tell the old man.