Free Embracing My Submission by Jenna Jacob Page B

of breaking through his manic craze. His fingers plunged deep inside my wet pussy. “Nooo!” I wailed.
    “Oh you like it rough don’t you, slut? You’re dripping wet for my cock. You might scream for me to stop, but I can feel how much you want it.” An evil smirk curled on his lips. “Get on your hands and knees and suck my dick!”
    “Never, you son of a bitch!” I wriggled one wrist free and brought it down, pounding my fist against his shoulders and chest. “Get the fuck off me,” I screamed.
    His fingers gripped my throat. Dragging me across the room, he launched me onto the bed with a feral growl. Breath left my lungs in a loud whoosh, and as I landed, I saw blood painted on the sheets. My blood. The bastard had flayed my ass open. Panic consumed me and a high-pitched scream tore from my throat.
    Jordon snagged one of my ankles and yanked me to the foot of the bed. The friction of the sheet brought a new level of agony ripping through me.
    Kicking my feet like an Olympic swimmer, I made contact, slamming a hard heel onto his rib cage. Emitting a low “oomph,” he jumped onto the bed, straddled my body, and punched my face with his fist.
    Pain exploded over my cheek as lights danced behind my eyes. A copper taste filled my mouth as I bucked, trying to toss him from my body. Pinning my arms with his knees, my eyes grew wide in alarm as the thickest, longest cock I’d ever seen was thrust in my face.
    My heart thundered in my ears. Without a word, he wrapped his hand around my throat, pinning my head to the bed. I began to gasp, unable to draw air into my lungs.
    “Open your fucking mouth, bitch.” His face distorted in a hateful grimace.
    Bursts of light flickered at the fringes of blackness, obscuring my vision. He was going to strangle me to death. I was going to die at the hands of a madman. Suddenly he released my throat, and I gasped and sucked in tiny gulps of air. I longed for one huge breath, but he was sitting on my chest making it impossible to draw in enough oxygen.
    “Stop! Goddamn it. Stop!” I coughed as tears spilled from my eyes. Sliding his finger and thumb to my cheek, he pried open my jaws. Vicious pain burst from where he’d punched me, and I opened my mouth, praying he would lessen the pressure. My heart was lodged in my throat.
    “Red. Red.” I tried to scream in one last desperate attempt for him to heed my safe word.
    “You don’t hear so good do you, whore? There is no fucking red. Not now. Not ever. Suck me off, cunt, and do it good,” Jordon screamed as he leaned forward, forcing the head of his cock between my lips.
    Suddenly the door to the room burst open. Straining my eyes toward the commotion, I saw Drake rush through the door as Jordon’s cock jerked from my lips. Blessed relief washed over me.
    Heart-stopping astonishment quickly followed. A gasp of surprise froze in my lungs as my heart clenched in my chest. Blinking past Drake, bowed up and ready to kill...standing shoulder to shoulder between James and Tony stood...
    Sir Drool.
     
     
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    My ghost Dom was real .
    Bulging milk-chocolate brown muscles and erotic amber eyes lambent in a mixture of desire, panic, and dread stared at me. His rugged jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists at his sides. Knowing his thick, erotic bottom lip lay tucked beneath the angry, tight line drawn across his mouth, I shivered.
    He was real. After all the years, all the dreams, he was real.
    The room began to spin. I’d stopped breathing the minute I laid eyes on him. Desperate to draw oxygen into my lungs, I gasped for air. My heart pounded in my chest like a thousand wild horses racing through an open field, and a steady throb beat like a drum upon my clit.
    All the nights Fanny-Frustration had brought forth his image, I always wished he was a living, breathing soul. Yet I never allowed myself the luxury of truly believing it. But there he was, biceps nearly exploding beneath a black security T-shirt.