Masculine Submission

No greater love has a man than to live his life for the one he loves

New Book Teaser – Emily Watson

I’ve been working on a book length work of fiction – my first. It is now done with editing and I’m starting the writing part of my second. But I wanted to provide just a glimpse of what is coming along, as soon as I get a publisher’s green light.

Click through to read a teaser.

“Thanks for coming,” I said softly. “I’ve looked forward to this all day.” I ran my hands over his cheeks and kissed his mouth again. His response was a little less wooden this time. I turned my face a little so that his mouth trailed over my cheek and down to the side of my throat. Damn, it felt good. It had been far too long since I enjoyed a man. I let my lips brush against his ear when I whispered. “I know you’re afraid that I’m going to make you get on your knees for me.” He nodded. “Then you should do it before I ask. Offer it to me.”

He sucked air deep into his lungs and wobbled on his feet a little. Then he slowly sank down onto his knees. I smiled and slid the fingers of both hands through his hair. When he leaned forward slightly, I pulled his head against my hip and held him.

“Listen to me, boy,” I said softly, but with a lot more assurance than I felt. “You are my boy now, and you will always be safe when you are here. I will protect you and cherish you and enjoy you. You will obey. And you will be safe. Always.”

I gave him a chance to say something, but he remained silent. He just leaned his head against my hip and closed his eyes, as if he were absorbing me directly through his skin. I gave him a minute or two, then gently pushed him away and sat down in my chair. I crossed my legs and picked up my iced tea to take a sip. I was just stalling. I had had so many ideas of what to do at this moment, and now I couldn’t recall any of them.

I sat and looked at him and really didn’t like his clothes. His pants were far too baggy, and barely caught enough hip to stay up. His T shirt was black with “GOTH KITTY GOT CLAWS” emblazoned across the chest, with the neon-red letters stylized to look like they were dripping blood. Surely he hadn’t worn something that stupid last night, had he? I couldn’t remember. I’m sure he hadn’t, because I would have ripped it off of him on general principle.

“Take off your shirt, boy,” I told him. He tossed his head to the side so that I could see his eyes for a few moments. They were dark, brooding, and scared. He wanted this – he needed this. But it frightened him. Well, I knew how he felt. My heart was pounding.

I can’t say that he took off his shirt wrong, but it wasn’t really sexy or fascinating or anything. He just grabbed the bottom and pulled it up over his head. Then he laid his shirt on the floor next to him. It was a bit disappointing, but I had to remember this was new territory for him.
He was slender in the way that twenty-nothing rock stars are slender, but without the charisma of someone who is used to being desired. He slumped forward, so that his belly sunk inwards. But there was some strong, wiry muscle in his arms, and little enough body fat that he could pop a six-pack if he knew how to work out. I smiled. It would be fun to watch that body grow into manhood. The good-girl in my head stalked off in a huff. The beast in my belly just watched and waited.

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