The A Little Bit Trilogy Bundle: A Little Bit Submissive; A Little Bit Rough; A Little Bit Controlling - A BDSM Erotica Romance

 

 

 

 

 

The A Little Bit
Trilogy

A BDSM Erotica Romance

Books 1, 2 and 3

 

 

 

 

 

ALSO BY BEBE WILDE

A Little Bit Submissive

A Little Bit Rough

A Little Bit Controlling

You, Me and Him
:
A Ménage Erotica Short

Cold Hard Cash: A Story of Erotica

Sexual Tension: A BDSM Erotica Story

The Weaker Sex: BDSM Erotica

Adults Only: Seven Erotica Shorts

Adults Only: Seven Erotica Shorts - Volume 2

Sex Story: An Erotica Short

Sex Story - Part 2: An Erotica Short

Merci: A Story of Erotica, Sex and Romance

At the End of the Day: An Office Sex Erotica Short

On the Same Page: An Office Sex Erotica Story

 

 

 

 

 

The A Little Bit
Trilogy

A BDSM Erotica Romance

Books 1, 2 and 3

 

Bebe Wilde

 

 

 

Abernathy and Monroe

 

 

This edition published in 2013 by Abernathy and Monroe.

 

A Little Bit Submissive.
Copyright © 2013 by
Bebe
Wilde.

A Little Bit Rough.
Copyright © 2013 by
Bebe
Wilde.

A Little Bit Controlling.
Copyright © 2013 by
Bebe
Wilde.

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. For more information, email [email protected]

 

Published by Abernathy and Monroe.

 

eBook
ISBN–13:
 
978-1-938107-45-0

eBook
ISBN–10:
 
1-938107-45-4

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

 

 

A Little Bit Submissive

The A Little Bit
Trilogy

Book 1

 

 

 

 

 

A Little Bit Submissive

The A Little Bit
Trilogy

Book 1

 

Bebe
Wilde

 

 

 

Abernathy and Monroe

 

 

A Little Bit Submissive.
Copyright © 2013 by
Bebe
Wilde.

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. For more information, email [email protected]

 

Published by Abernathy and Monroe.

 

eBook
ISBN–13: 978-1-938107-32-0

eBook
ISBN–10: 1-938107-32-2

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

 

 

The Kiss of the Crop

I was in it for the sex.

Yes, the sex. It was dark and sometimes dangerous but more importantly, it was fun. Yes, fun. No one ever tells you that though. They never tell you how fun sex like this is, maybe because it’s a little out of the ordinary. Well, it’s not really a normal topic of conversation, is it? You wouldn’t discuss something like this over a cup of coffee with your BFF or by the mailbox with your neighbor, would you? It just wouldn’t come up. Not this.
But what about normal sex?
Yes.
Of course.
A girl can talk about normal sex all day long and no one would usually bat an eye.
But this?
No. It was too intense for dinner conversation. And it was too special to share. Besides, I was afraid if I spoke of it, the excitement might fade a little. And it meant too much to me for that. I wanted to keep it like this forever. It was fresh, it was new, and it was just a little hypnotic.

And it was all
mine
.
He
was all
mine
. He just didn’t know it yet. He wouldn’t ever talk about what we did. He just did it. Like it was normal and, maybe, it was to him. That thought made me a little uneasy though I tried not to let it bother me. I didn’t want anything to get in the way of my fun.

I suppose it was fun to me because I never knew what he was going to do and the anticipation would drive me wild with lust. Not only did I never know what he’d do, but I never knew
when
he’d do it. Not knowing made me think of it all the time and, soon enough, it became all I thought about. I’d think about his strong hands on me, his handsome face hovering near mine, his lips, so soft and inviting, brushing against my bare skin. I’d think about his voice, so sweet in my ear, whispering, telling me I was all he ever thought about, that he couldn’t get enough of me, of my feminine body, of my beautiful face. It’s all I thought about, me and him, and what we did together. It’s all I wanted.

Well, mostly.

One of the main reasons I didn’t know what he was going to do at that very moment was because I was wearing a blindfold. It really wasn’t an actual blindfold though, but rather a silk scarf, an expensive one, a gift from him. He’d tied it around my head, covering my eyes earlier. This was the first time he’d done this and it excited me beyond words. We’d never played this game before. But I was sure it was going to be good. I couldn’t see what he was doing nor could I anticipate it, either. Though I couldn’t see him, my senses were alert to the fact that he was nearby. His scent,
a strong
and masculine cologne, was reassuring, even if I was in the dark. It was just me and him and the scarf, which separated us. We’d done this before, played this game. It was very exciting, to say the least. I simply waited on him to tell me what to do.

“Get up on the bed, Teagan,” he commanded.

This was the best part. I loved it when he told me what to do. Without hesitation, I got up on my knees on the bed, on my fancy, four-poster bed. It was my sanctuary that I hadn’t shared with anyone since my divorce. It was my bed, in my bedroom, in my house. It was covered with expensive, high thread count sheets and a soft and so comfortable duvet that had cost a pretty penny. It was a point of pride to me, that bed, a gift to
myself
for all my hard work. It was where I dropped at the end of the day, fell into, covered up and forgot about my problems. It was my special place that I was now sharing with him.

He never commented on it. He just took what I had for granted. He could care less about the furnishing or bed covers. He was just there for the sex. That was okay with me.

Without hesitation, he came over to me and pushed me down, taking me over, controlling me. He was on my back then but his hands didn’t move all over me, which was what I wanted. He waited, leaving me breathless, leaving me wanting it, wanting what he was going to give me. What would it be this time? What would he give me this time?

“Tell me, Teagan,” he whispered in my ear. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” I breathed.

“Me?” he said.
“Me or my cock?
Which is it?”

“Both.”

He chuckled a little then moved away from me. He got off the bed and I could tell from the way he paused that he was studying me, as if trying to figure out what he was going to do next.
What would he do?
I had no idea, but that was the fun part.

Without speaking, he grabbed me around my middle and pulled me up so that I was on all fours again. His hands ran down my body, then grabbed my panties and pulled them off. All that was left was my bra and then I’d be completely naked. But he waited on that. My ass was bare, just the way he liked it.

I then heard him cross the room and retrieve something. I tensed. I knew what it was before he even had time to use it. It was the riding crop, another gift from him.
A nice little piece that added a lot of excitement.
He stopped behind me and suddenly I felt it against my skin, teasing me as he ran it down my back, then hesitating before his next move. Wait for it… Wait for it… And then… Smack!
Right across my left buttock.
Hard.

“Ohhhh,” I moaned and wanted more.

He did it again. And then several more times.
A nice little smack against bare skin, against a bare ass.
Each time, I was left feeling even weaker than before, wanting it even more than I ever imagined wanting it. But soon he would fuck
me,
soon it would be over, this pain ending in pleasure. I loved the thought but also loved the kiss of the crop. It came down on my ass with a snap.
Ouch!
I felt the welt forming, imagining the welts that would be there tomorrow. I felt tears in my eyes from the pain. Then I felt him.

Him.
Oh, him.
Him, him, him.
I couldn’t get enough of him. And that made me do things I never thought I’d do in a million years.

I knew he was doing it to make me want him more, to make me want him to the point that I couldn’t stand not being with him one moment longer. There was nothing I could do about it, either. I did want him that much, more than anything I’d wanted before. But right now, he was in charge and he was taking that to mean he could wait as long as he wanted before giving me his cock.

But what now?
What now? What was he going to do now, this second, this instance? Once again, I felt his hands sliding along my naked body, caressing me, bringing out the need I had for him, telling me with his hands how much he wanted me, how good he could fuck me. That drove me wild, crazy, almost insane with lust. I was giving him what he wanted. I was giving him what he wanted before he would give me what I wanted. But when would he complete the transaction? When would he really get going? How long would I have to wait for it?

His face was pressed next to mine and he whispered, “Do you like that?”

Did he even have to ask? Sure, I’d heard of these things before, these games some people played. Did I ever think I’d be doing these things, these naughty things? No. I didn’t think I’d ever participate in something like this. But here I was; it was being done to me. What choice did I have but to not enjoy it? And so I said, “Yes, I love it.”

“I knew you would,” he said. “But what if we try something else today?
Something different?”

He didn’t give me a chance to respond. He just got back up and gave me another swat. I gasped at the impact and he bent and quickly kissed the spot where the crop had hit me and then slid his hand down my buttocks then between my legs, up and down the length of my vagina until I was so wet I was dripping.

He stepped back and the crop was tossed to the side. I heard it hit the floor. I waited for his command.
What next? What would you like me to do next?
He knew I’d beg. We’d been doing this long enough for him to know that. But I didn’t have to beg. He was like me, wild with lust.
Wanting to fuck me, to get off, to have that moment or two of freedom only sex can give a person, especially when they’re fucking someone they are absolutely crazy about.
And he was crazy about me. He wouldn’t admit it, he wouldn’t say it, he wouldn’t imply it, but he was. Soon, he’d tell me. Soon, I’d know for sure and then I could return the favor. But right now, right then even, we were playing that game of indifference. What brought us together were the games, the scarves, the riding crops, all embellishments of our noncommittal commitment to each other.

That was the way it was. I wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Not knowing, sometimes, was quite enticing and more than worth the price of admission.

He was still waiting to act, which was making me wait. I longed for it, for him to push himself into me, to give me all he had. I was about to plead for it, to beg, to tell him he’d gone far enough with the deprivation. Then I felt his hands slide under my bra and unsnap it. I rose up and it fell off me. I was now one-hundred percent naked. I stayed like that for a moment, anticipating his next move. He made it sooner than expected. He turned me around so that he could stare at me. He didn’t make a move to touch me, so my hand came up towards him. He pushed it back down and even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he had shaken his head.

“What?” I asked.

He leaned in and whispered, “I want you tied up.”

Tied up?
What did that mean? Well, I knew what it meant but was I willing to allow it? The thought of being constricted, of being bound, wasn’t ideal for me. I didn’t even know if the thought enticed me enough to go through with it or not. The idea of refusing his command didn’t really come into play, though. When I was with him, it was he who called the shots. And he would only give me what he wanted to give me. And now he wanted me tied up.

I began shake a little, feeling slightly nervous about what was to come, to think that maybe, this wasn’t such a great idea. But I was ready for it. Even as I shook, I knew I’d allow him to do whatever he liked. So, he pushed me back on the bed and left the room. He returned with something. I didn’t know what it was but once he began to tie me to the bed, I realized they were the bungee cords I had in the kitchen. I used them to secure stuff in the trunk of my car or in my garage. What an odd choice they were. Even so, when I realized this, I almost bolted. But then again, I couldn’t even if I had tried. I was tied to the bed, quite literally. This was a little too much, a little too heavy. However, this was the next step; I knew that. And I had to see where this would lead.

It was about trust.
Me trusting him.
Me allowing him to do what he wanted with me and trusting that I would like it. It was about me being submissive and him being in control. That’s what it was about. There was never any question of it.

And then, quickly and with purpose, he had me tied up, hands and feet bound. I lay on the bed and waited, again, for his next move. His hands began to explore my body, pausing here and there to squeeze a breast or slip a hand between my legs. When I was good and crazy from the lust, he did something odd. He moved away and stood over me, staring down at me. This excited me because I knew it would soon be time for the fucking, for the sex. I moved against the cords, wanting his hands on my body again, wanting him to go ahead and fuck me, but then he said, “Be still.”

I stopped moving and began to tingle with even more excitement, with the realization that we could do what we did best together and that was have sex. Yes, the games were fun. I enjoyed them and he did, too. But now came the absolute best part.

He began to kiss his way down my legs, pushing my legs open as much as the cords would allow and then lifting me up from the bed by the waist. Then he came back to my lips, kissed me softly, settling his body on top of mine. He began to grind himself against my body, his strong body against mine. I loved the weight of his body on top of mine. It felt right, like that’s the way it was supposed to feel. I wanted his cock inside of me then, so I said, “Fuck me.”

He ignored me and then went back down my body once again, shoving his face into me, into my pussy. He could only get so far with my legs bound, so he untied my legs and then began to eat at me. I shivered with delight, loving how it felt with his face and tongue and nose exploring me like that. He gave it all to me then, eating at me until I came and came hard, grinding up against his face until the intense orgasm dissipated.

He then untied my hands and removed the scarf. Now I could grab him by the face and pull him to me, crushing my lips onto his, loving the feel of his unshaved rough skin. We kissed, eating at each other as my hand made its way to his cock, still in his pants, but hard and thick and big. Oh, I loved his cock. It was the best I’d ever had. He fit me perfectly, as if he were made for me alone.

But I was still his to command. He turned me over and pushed me down on the bed and climbed on top of me. The hair was swept back from my neck and he began to lick me. Then his mouth moved down to my back and he began to kiss me there, using long stokes with his tongue and sucking on the skin. I loved that feeling; it was just right. His hands roamed my body as he sucked at my back. They lifted me up a little and went to my breasts, squeezing them and then he pulled me up until I was on my hand and knees in front of him.

He leaned over me and I turned my head around, pushing my tongue into his mouth and he began to suck on it before he began to suck on my mouth, at my lips. It was a deep kiss, a gut-wrenching kiss flavored with need and desire. I felt myself let go then, in that moment, in that kiss. As soon as that moment passed, I knew I’d finally get what I most wanted out of him—a good, hard fuck. All this had been a precursor to that, an extraordinary precursor, but a precursor nonetheless.

He turned me around and settled on top of me and began to devour my breasts with his mouth, sucking at the nipple as he scooped them up with his hands. He glanced up at me as he sucked and I got a jolt of lust just from that look. He smiled to himself before he licked the underside of my breast, then the nipple again. Now he was going lower.

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