Taming Emma Read online

  Taming Emma

  By

  Natasha Knight

  Copyright © 2013 by Stormy Night Publications and Natasha Knight

  Copyright © 2013 by Stormy Night Publications and Natasha Knight

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Knight, Natasha

  Taming Emma

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by Jenn LeBlanc and Bigstock/Evgeny Trofimov

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Acknowledgement

  I'd like to thank BookAddict-La Crimson Femme for beta reading this manuscript when it was still a work in progress. Your feedback and notes were much appreciated, but more than that, your comments and kind words have encouraged and, well, just put a smile upon my face. Thank you.

  Chapter One

  Emma hung up the phone, her heart thudding against her chest. Five minutes. She had five minutes before she had to be downstairs. She took one last look at her reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman she’d become in the last months. The silk of her dress felt cold against her skin and she shivered. It was a gift, the dress; at least Damien had called it that. It wasn’t exactly though; it was more like giftwrap. She was being readied to be presented to the others. She’d be sold to the highest bidder tonight. The thought just made her cold now, and numb. But she’d have to get over what accepting money for the use of her body made her.

  She brushed one stray strand of hair from her face and checked the clock. Time to go. Damien’s words played in her mind for the hundredth time: five thousand dollars for one weekend; three nights and two days of sexual submission. That was all. And it wasn’t like she was being offered to just anyone. These men were the cream of the crop, as Damien called them. She grabbed her wrap and put a stop to all thoughts. Damien didn’t know the first thing about her and that was how she wanted to keep it. She had her own reasons for doing this and after the weekend, once those days were over, she could walk away, start clean. Again.

  * * *

  Luke Roark wrapped a soft, cashmere scarf around his neck and grabbed his car keys. Running a hand through his dark hair, he stepped out into the cool night. Fall settled over Aspen, bringing with it a chill to the air. It wouldn’t be long now before the first snowfall.

  Climbing into his car, he programmed the directions of the remote location into his GPS and set off. It had been a long time since he’d attended one of these parties, but tonight, he needed a woman. A willing woman with no strings attached. It cost money, but it was worth it. Luke Roark didn’t do relationships.

  * * *

  Emma stepped through the doors of The Blue Bar, which was set on the first floor of the posh Aspen hotel. Damien had brought her here last night and they’d talked through the final details of their arrangement, just business as usual for him. She’d sat there listening but not hearing much, wondering how she could ever have been drawn to him. But she had been.

  The bar was more crowded than she’d expected it to be, given the time of year, but she wouldn’t know anyone here. She searched the room for him, aware of all the eyes that followed her. Goose bumps covered her flesh and she pushed away the voice that told her to turn around and go back home before it was too late.

  Damien stepped into her line of vision. He was watching her, probably had been from the moment she’d walked in. Just like him to do that. He’d been calculating everything from their first meeting and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, it hurt. He was making her into a whore.

  No, that wasn’t quite true. She made her own choices.

  Whore.

  She swallowed the word down and walked toward him, determined to keep her anxiety hidden. As she got closer, she watched him take her in from head to toe, obviously pleased with what he saw. Her long, dark hair was piled on top of her head, displaying her slender neck, as he’d requested. The halter-top dress was tied with one simple bow at the back of her neck, all the easier to strip her of it. It was cut so that her shoulders and the whole of her back were exposed, unblemished alabaster skin curving around her small frame. He took his time, taking in every inch of her and she felt bile rise to her throat as she realized how many others would be measuring her up tonight.

  She knew she should drop her gaze to the ground when he stepped toward her, but pride wouldn’t allow it. He was her pimp tonight; that was all. At least it wasn’t him she’d have to submit to.

  “Emma,” he greeted her, taking her hands in his and kissing both cheeks. “You look lovely,” he said, his gaze sweeping her body again. “The dress is a perfect fit.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice calm and even. She’d gotten good at hiding her thoughts and emotions, and in moments like this, it came in handy.

  He brought his mouth close to her ear so that only she would hear his whisper when he asked, “Thank you, what?”

  She shivered, but she had a role to play.

  She glanced up quickly and her face flushed pink. “Thank you, Sir,” she whispered back. She’d only called him Sir when they were alone, never in a public setting, much less surrounded by so many people. She knew he liked the sound of it, the look on her face when she blushed. In fact, she liked hearing herself say it, just not in reference to him.

  “Good girl.” He placed a hand at her low back and it took all she had not to pull away while he led her through the crowd to the bar. “Let’s get you a drink.” Ordering two glasses of champagne, they found a secluded corner.

  She hadn’t been able to eat a thing and wasn’t sure how champagne was going to sit on an empty stomach. “Sir,” she began.

  “Yes?” he asked, barely able to hide his pleased smile. She knew she played vulnerability well, likely one of the traits that had made him propose what he’d proposed.

  “What exactly is going to happen tonight?” she asked. It was the same question she’d asked the last time they’d talked.

  “That again?” he asked, looking bored. “Emma, nothing is going to happen that you haven’t agreed to,” he promised.

  “What if I have to safeword?” she asked; this part made her nervous.

  “You won’t have to; your limits will be respected.” She stared at him. “If you do safeword, you’ll be released from the contract immediately, but you won’t need to use it, Emma. Trust me.”

  She wished she could.

  “Are you changing your mind?” he asked. “Half of the money has been transferred into your account, but if you change your mind now, you can give it back…” He cleared his throat. Could he see her flinch?

  “No, it’s not that,” she said, straightening her spine.

  “Then what is it?”

  “I’m just nervous, Damien. That’s all,” she snapped. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  She could see the effort it took for him to soften his expression. He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I’ll be there with you,” he said. “You know I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. The men you’ll meet tonight, they’re going to fall in love with you. You’ll be the most beautiful woman there, among wealthy, powerful men.”

  Emma watched his lips move as he spoke. Christ, he made her sound like a gold digger. She wasn’t interested in a rich boyfriend, never had been. In one more year, she’d have access to her own
small fortune. She’d do what she had to do to survive until then.

  Besides, the one thing she did have to give Damien credit for was that he’d sensed her need to submit before she’d been fully aware of it herself. Things just came about differently than she’d imagined, or hoped. She’d met Damien a few months ago at Club Exhale, a BDSM club. It was her first time there and she’d been scared as hell. She’d welcomed his attention then. Sex with him had been different than anything she’d experienced before and he’d whet her palate. Vanilla wasn’t enough anymore, never could be again. Submission made her feel more alive, more fulfilled than she’d ever thought possible and she knew with Damien, she’d just scratched the surface.

  But she didn’t have feelings for him and had quickly realized that Damien had had plans for her all along. The seduction was just the cherry on top for him. When he’d first brought up the party they’d be attending tonight, he’d done it knowing she needed the money and understanding the fact that kink turned her on. He’d planted a seed. She’d been able to think of nothing else since. He’d pay her to experience something she wanted to experience anyway.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She tried to push the anxiety building inside back down. She was out of options. He’d flown her out to Aspen and although he insisted she was under no obligation, she didn’t quite believe he meant it.

  He set their drinks down and took her hands in his. “Look at me.”

  She turned wide eyes to his. She hated playing the little vulnerable dummy with him.

  “Answer me,” he said, sounding just a little less patient.

  She searched his eyes and licked her lips when she turned her attention to his mouth. She knew he’d like that. “I’m ready, Sir.”

  He smiled. “Let’s go, then,” he said, leading her to the exit.

  Chapter Two

  She hugged her wrap to her shoulders and they walked out to his car, a black BMW coupe with tinted windows. She slipped into the passenger seat and Damien closed the door. She watched him light a cigarette and take out his cell phone. She wondered if he would miss her after tonight. Or if she would miss him. She was a means to an end to him, nothing more. But if she were honest, she was more ok with it than she liked to admit.

  He hung up, tossed his half-smoked cigarette to the ground and slipped into the car. The scent of the cigarette clung to him, sickening her.

  “No turning back now, Emma. Ready?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath and nodded. It was just one weekend. “I’m ready. Sir.”

  “I’m going to blindfold you,” he said, taking a black silk cloth out of the glove compartment. “Close your eyes.”

  His words both thrilled and frightened her and she did as he said, feeling the cool silk slide along her eyes and press against her face.

  “Turn your back to me and put your hands behind you,” he said once he’d secured the blindfold.

  A cool, thick strap of what she figured was a leather belt secured her wrists together. He tightened to the point just before pain and when he released her, she tested its give. Nothing. She panicked for a split second.

  He started the engine, but must have sensed her distress. “Breathe, Emma,” he said while the car sped along the road.

  He drove fast as Emma’s stomach churned in anticipation of the evening. She was glad she hadn’t eaten anything since the morning because she was sure she’d throw it all up. Although attracted to the world of dominance and submission, this wasn’t how she’d imagined her initiation.

  The firm leather on her wrists contrasted with the soft silk over her eyes. The idea itself of being bound and blind aroused her in her fantasies, but that wasn’t what she felt tonight. She tried to relax, crossing her legs and adjusting her seat, but his hand was on her knee the instant she did, pulling her thighs apart.

  “No,” he said. “Keep your legs open.”

  His fingers first dug then caressed the tender flesh of her thigh, coming close, so close, to her sex. It took all she had to remain still.

  “From here on out, unless you’re asked a question, you are not to speak. Do you understand?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice coming out weaker than she expected.

  They drove down a very windy road and she guessed it must have been more than half an hour before he stopped and killed the engine. Emma’s heart pounded in her chest. Here we go, she thought. She listened to him stepping out of the car and waited until he came to her side to let her out.

  He closed the car door behind her and with a hand on her elbow, guided her to their destination. It was colder here than it had been at the hotel, so she assumed they’d gone up the mountain. She smelled horses and heard running water, a small creek perhaps. She wondered if they were near a stable.

  Warmth engulfed her when they stepped inside a moment later. The door closed behind them and a lock turned. Her heart pounded at the sound and her brain screamed at her to call it off, to use her safe word and get out while she could.

  The subtle scent of an aftershave she knew but couldn’t place filled her nostrils. It was a strangely comforting memory.

  “Good evening, Damien.” The new voice sent a shiver through her, making every hair on her body stand on end. She’d heard his voice before, she was certain.

  Her senses were heightened since she stood blind and she felt Damien’s body tense just a little beside her. “Good evening, Mr. Roark,” Damien said.

  Mr. Roark?

  Even through the blindfold, she could feel his gaze on her body. “She’s a lovely one, isn’t she?” he asked.

  It can’t be. But the voice, the accent…

  It took all she had to stand still, but when his hand crept along her belly then cupped her breast, she gasped and instinctively tried to pull away. Damien wrapped his hands around her upper arms and not only held her still, but when he pulled them back, he thrust her chest forward, as if he were offering her breasts to the man.

  The man cupped one, then pinched her nipple which, already hard, scratched the cool silk of her dress. Even though painful, it sent a flush of desire straight to her clit.

  “I’ve always liked a little fire in a woman,” he said. “Makes for a more interesting evening.” He brought his face close to hers so she could feel his breath on her neck, her ear. “But you should know I’m not so patient a teacher as your Damien, my dear.”

  It was him, she was absolutely certain. Luke Roark, her brother’s one-time best friend. Oh crap, crap, crap! Didn’t he recognize her? He hadn’t seen her in more than six years. She’d been eighteen at the time and used to dye her hair a bright, horrible red. What was he doing here and how long would they keep the blindfold on to hide her? No no no, this cannot be happening!

  Damien’s hands on her arms tightened then released. “Remember why you’re here,” he whispered to her when Luke’s footsteps retreated. “I own you, Emma, you agreed. Don’t embarrass me or I will punish you in front of everyone and believe me, you won’t like it.”

  He was being crueler than he’d ever been with her. He was under pressure.

  “I can’t do this,” she panicked.

  “Really? I thought you liked it, given the way your body reacted to him,” he began. He sounded jealous, almost bitter.

  “I didn’t…”

  He ignored her. “I do wonder,” he began, “if I slipped my hand inside your panties now,” his fingers trailed along her thigh, slowly raising her dress. “Would they be wet?” he asked, running a finger across the lacy fabric.

  She tensed, wanting his hands off of her body, but knowing she was powerless.

  “Oh, my…” He removed his hand and brought his fingers to her lips, smearing the stuff like sticky lip gloss. “My little whore.”

  She felt her face redden as he led her forward, pinching her hard when she resisted. He was right, she was a whore. How had things come to this?

  Hardwood floors turned to carpeted floors and the soft sound of o
pera music and the crackling of wood in a fireplace filled her ears.

  Too late. It was too late.

  “Take her to the fire,” an unfamiliar voice said. “She’s shivering.”

  She wasn’t shaking from cold.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce your beauty?” someone asked.

  Another man chuckled. How many were there?

  “Gentlemen, this is Emma.”

  “Lovely,” someone said before the room grew quiet again.

  There was a faint scent of books, old books, and the stale smell of a pipe smoked hours ago. Although the fire was warm at her back, she felt cold and alone.

  Someone held a glass to her lips. Whiskey. She turned her face.

  “Drink,” Damien said from several feet away. “It will relax you.”

  Whoever was holding the cup pressed it to her lips. She drank the contents down and coughed with the aftershock of it. Although she was grateful for the drink, she needed to keep her wits about her.

  “Strip her,” a man said.

  It took all she had to remain still like Damien had taught her, like she instinctively knew she should. She was going to be stripped naked while Luke Roark watched.

  “Breathe.”

  She stiffened, smelling Luke’s aftershave even before he whispered that one command close to her ear. “Emma,” he said, his voice a deep whisper.

  No, it was worse than she thought. He wouldn’t just be watching. He’d be doing the stripping.

  Without intending to, she whispered Damien’s name. But she knew Damien wouldn’t save her.

  “No, not Damien,” Luke began. “Sir or Master will do well enough though,” he kept going as cold sweat pooled under her arms. She’d had a crush on him for years when she’d been a teenager. In fact, she’d imagined moments when he’d be stripping her many a night while her fingers worked inside her panties. But it wasn’t ever like this, where she’d agreed to be offered as a bought-and-paid-for sex toy to a room full of men.