Breaking the Bride Bundle Read online




  Breaking the Bride Bundle

  by Sabine Winters

  Copyright 2013 Sabine Winters

  Contents

  Breaking the Bride

  Training the Bride

  Punishing the Bride

  Breaking the Bride

  by Sabine Winters

  Copyright 2012 Sabine Winters

  back to contents

  I pulled into the apartment complex's parking lot a week before my wedding day, innocent and naïve and completely unaware that my life was about to totally change. Change in ways I'd never expected, never even dreamed – but which would turn out to be the stuff of my deepest, most forbidden fantasies.

  That day, I had no idea what was in store for me. I was responding to a text message from Lance, my future husband's oldest friend. They'd grown up together, playing on the same baseball team and going to the same school right up through college – which is where I'd met my fiance, Adam. Lance had always been around, part of the same loose friend group as Adam and I, so I'd seen a lot of him too. And of course, now he was going to be Adam's best man.

  He'd sent me an urgent text, saying he needed to see me right away. I was sure it had something to do with the wedding, and I should've been panicking, but at some point in the last week I'd entered a zen-like state. I'd freaked out so much while planning this wedding that I just couldn't freak out anymore. Whatever happened happened. If I could fix Lance's problem, I would – if not, I'd just handle it however I could.

  I parked my car, a little hybrid Toyota, and checked myself in the mirror. My long, wavy blonde hair was a little frizzy, but otherwise I looked fine. My green eyes stared back at me calmly, and I took a deep breath, preparing to tackle whatever crisis was about to come my way.

  Lance answered the door on the first knock, ushering me inside. His apartment was nice, and big for just one person – he even had an extra bedroom, that I think he used for audio equipment or something. He had a really nice job at a local sound studio, though frankly I had no idea what he did. Whatever it was, it paid him pretty well.

  “What's going on?” I asked, still feeling calm and centered. “Did one of the groomsmen back out or something?”

  “No, it's nothing like that,” he said, and gestured for me to sit on the couch. I took a seat, looking up at him. “I thought we should clear the air, that's all?”

  “Clear the air?” I repeated his words, voice soft, as if I didn't know what he could possibly mean. But I did. There was only one thing Lance could be talking about.

  During college, I'd done a three-month study abroad in Italy. Adam hadn't gone, being a business major, and our relationship had gotten a little strained – and one night, in a supremely bad decision, I'd cheated on him. With Lance.

  The sex had been great. I actually still remembered it, Lance had been so much rougher and more dominant than Adam ever was that I couldn't get it out of my head for weeks. But we'd both agreed it had been a horrible mistake, and I'd asked Lance to forget it ever happened.

  I probably should've come clean to Adam, begged his forgiveness, but I'd felt sure that he would break up with me if he knew – and by the time things were better between us, it was months later. The moment when I could have told him was long gone. Not to mention I still didn't think he'd just forgive me for something so big. Lance and I never mentioned it again, and the slight awkwardness quickly faded. I hadn't forgotten that it had happened – how could I? - but it had turned into a painful, if erotic, memory that I tried not to think about.

  “You know what I'm talking about,” Lance said. He sat down across from me, watching me. His dark eyes were unreadable, his rugged features set. “You're marrying Adam in a week, and he doesn't know what happened.”

  My calm was completely gone. I felt panic bubbling up inside me. “There's no point in telling him now. It's over and done with.” If I told Adam now, what would happen? Would he put off the wedding, dump me, end things? Would it destroy our relationship? I couldn't take that chance.

  A smile flickered across Lance's handsome face. It unsettled me a little, but I couldn't help liking it anyway – he really was hot. “He doesn't have to know, as long as you do something for me.”

  “Are you... blackmailing me?” I said in shock, my eyes widening. I couldn't believe this was happening. But I couldn't let Lance tell my fiance about our fling, even if it had been years ago. Adam was kind of on the insecure side, there was no way he'd take it well. At best we'd fight and I'd have to win his trust back. At worst – well, I didn't want to think about that. “What do you want?”

  Lance stood up, his tall frame towering over me as he leaned in. His hand rested on the back of the sofa. His eyes met mine, and the burning passion in those dark eyes made me shiver. Those memories from college bubbled up, our one night together – how he'd made me come over and over, made me scream and beg him for more. His hands holding my wrists down. God, I'd loved it so much, being taken like that.

  “I want you, Alisa,” he said, his voice low and intense. “I want you to give me your body. I want you to spread your legs for me and moan while I fuck you, I want to own and dominate you.” His fingers moved, trailing down my cheek, their roughness and those words lighting fires in me that I tried with all my might to ignore.

  My breath was coming faster, my ample chest rising and falling quickly as I found myself unable to look away. That was what he wanted? Me?

  “Don't try to say you don't want to,” he continued. His hand moved lower, trailing down my neck and over my collarbone. “You loved every second of that night we spent together. Let me fuck you again, so you'll have something to think about while Adam's trying desperately to please you.”

  Did he know? My sex life with Adam wasn't awful, but I had all sorts of desires – fantasies and kinks, dreams – that I didn't have the courage to ask him for. And he wasn't a very imaginative guy – he was great in a lot of other ways, but creative, kinky? Not really.

  I tore my eyes away from Lance's, trying to hide the sudden rush of desire that I felt. I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn't be reacting to this with anything but disgust and anger. He was trying to blackmail me into sex. But – I didn't have a choice, did I? If I said no, my relationship with Adam might be destroyed. If I said yes, I'd be able to keep it intact – and I'd have the chance to experience that rough bliss one more time.

  God, I couldn't believe myself. It was bad enough that I didn't have a choice, but to be excited by the thought? Was I really such an utter slut?

  Lance's hand dipped further down, brushing over the curve of my breast through my thin t-shirt. My nipples stood up, visible through the fabric of the shirt and my bra. I felt almost uncomfortably hot, and like I couldn't breathe.

  He cupped my breast, brushing his thumb over the tip of my nipple. Then, never taking his eyes off me, Lance caught hold of my nipple through my shirt and twisted it harshly.

  I gasped. I wish I could say it was only in pain, that I was shocked and horrified by what he'd done – but that would be a lie. It did hurt, but mingled with the pain was a hot, dirty pleasure, a pleasure that the pain only magnified. I clamped my lips down on a strange, almost needy whimper, and Lance smiled.

  “You want this. Alisa, don't lie to yourself. You want to be mastered like the bad little girl you are.” He let go of my breast, still leaning over me, inches away. “And if you try to deny it, I'll tell Adam all about that night. And about this. Well? What do you say?”

  It was my last chance to back out. But how could I? The growing desire inside of me wouldn't let me, even if I were willing to risk my relationship with Adam. Everything in my mind screamed at me that this was wrong, that I shouldn't do it, but the rest of me had alre
ady made the decision.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice soft.

  “What was that?” Lance said, though there was no way he'd missed it.

  “Yes,” I said, a little more loudly. “I'll do it.”

  He lifted my chin and our eyes met again. Once more I was taken aback by the burning desire there, the danger and need. I was attracted to it, feeling like a moth fluttering dangerously around a bright flame, and then he kissed me.

  It was a hard kiss, hard and rough, demanding so much. Against my will I relaxed into it, surrendering. I knew I should fight, I should make my lips hard and make it obvious I didn't want this, but I couldn't. I did want it. I knew that, and it seemed like Lance knew it just as well – maybe even better.

  My lips opened beneath his hungry mouth. His tongue slipped past them, plundering me, and I felt my will weakening even more. I would do this, I would let him have whatever he wanted. Not just to save my relationship with Adam, but because I wanted it too – needed it.

  He pulled away, straightening, and looked down at me. “Take your clothes off,” he said, and it wasn't a request.

  That submissive part of me that was beginning to take control didn't even question him. I stood, my cheeks flushed. Unable to look at him, I began to peel my clothing off. First my thin t-shirt, then my jeans, flats kicked off with them. I stood before Lance in my underwear, and my eyes flickered to him, wondering what he thought.

  His gaze was hungry and hard, devouring me. It was almost physical, and it sent a shiver through me. The way Lance looked at me was different than any other man I'd been with. It was raw and primal, rough, demanding. It turned me on beyond all comprehension, and I knew I was getting wet.

  I reached behind myself and unhooked my bra, letting it fall. Before I removed my panties, though, I hesitated. This was it. This was my last chance to turn back. I could still refuse, but if I was naked in front of Lance, I knew he could do anything he wanted with me, no matter how dirty or depraved.

  It was disgusting how that thought turned me on. What was wrong with me?

  Lance watched me silently, waiting. He knew that this was the last chance for me to turn back, too. He waited to see what I would choose.

  But did I really have a choice? After all, I'd cheated on Adam before, and with the same person. Doing it again like this wouldn't change much – and it would keep my relationship safe.

  And it would give me a chance to feel that rough bliss again, a voice in the back of my mind whispered. I tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that had nothing to do with why I decided to hook my fingers under the waistband of my panties and pull them off in one fluid movement.

  My clothes lay in piles on the floor, and I stood there, utterly naked. Lance's eyes explored my body, every curve and crevice, my breasts and the neatly trimmed hair between my legs. I blushed hard and resisted the urge to cover myself. What point would there be to that?

  Then he stepped forward and grabbed my wrists, holding them tightly in one hand. His other hand began to explore me, everywhere his eyes had touched before. His fingers were rough and demanding, sliding up my thighs and my side to curl around my breast, groping and teasing and twisting, sending another jolt of pain and pleasure through me. Then Lance's hand slid down, over my flat stomach. He shoved his fingers between my legs, spreading them, violating me deliciously.

  “You're wet,” he said, his voice low. My eyes met his dark ones, and then I had to look away, hiding my shame and the desire that was now even more obvious. “You want this so bad, Alisa.”

  He slid his fingers along the slick crevice of my pussy, and then one large finger was entering me, pushing past all my defenses. And god, I wanted it – I wanted all that and more. I wanted his fingers inside me, but more than that I wanted his cock.

  I bit back a whimper of desire and surprise, and he laughed. “You're a submissive slut deep down. I've always known that, even if Adam doesn't have the balls to take advantage of it. Well, I'm going to. I'm going to give you what we both know you want.”

  His finger slid from me and he wiped it on my belly, leaving a trail of my own fluids. Then Lance's hand tangled in my hair and shoved me down onto the couch again, bending me forward until my nose was practically brushing his crotch. The bulge there was unmistakeable.

  “Unzip it and suck me,” Lance ordered. There was no room in his words for disobedience, even if I had wanted to. He released my wrists but held my head where it was. I hesitated for one brief moment, and then I took the plunge.

  Unzipping his pants, I freed his cock, already hard and ready for me. He was big, bigger than Adam, and I swallowed at the sight of him. God, I wanted him inside me, fucking me – but he was in charge here. I was only his toy, his temporary sex slave.

  I took the head of his cock between my lips, swirling my tongue around it. My hand wrapped around the base of it, stroking gently as I concentrated my attention on the head, licking and sucking and running my tongue along the sensitive underside.

  Lance groaned, cock twitching in my mouth, and his hands gripped my hair harder. “Yeah, that's right. You love the taste of cock, don't you?”

  His words, his tone, sent a shiver through me. I'd never been talked to the way he spoke to me, and as degrading as it was, it turned me on even more. My pussy was wet and hot, but I didn't dare touch it. I know I would only come when he wanted me to, and not a moment before.

  God, I really was a submissive slut. I'd just been waiting for someone to bring it out of me.

  He pulled my hair, pushing my down further on his cock, and I moaned. “Your lips look so pretty wrapped around my cock,” Lance said. “What a filthy whore.”

  He pushed in further, and to my surprise, I didn't choke or gag. I'd hardly ever done this with Adam – it had seemed too degrading, a thought I almost wanted to laugh at now – but it wasn't as hard as I thought. His cock hit the back of my throat, and my senses were filled with him. His scent, his taste, the weight of him on my tongue. Against my will, I moaned again, the sound muffled by his shaft in my mouth.

  “Take it,” Lance said. “I'm going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours, and you're gonna like it.” And true to his words, he began to move. Slowly at first, the in-and-out thrusting motion careful to keep from choking me, but as I got used to it he sped up.

  Soon his big dick was moving in and out of my mouth steadily, his hands hard in my hair, holding my head where it was. I could do nothing but moan and shiver and take every thrust, so turned on by his actions – and his words – that I could barely handle it.

  He spoke to me while he fucked my mouth, telling me what a slut I was, reminding me I was getting married in only a week – and here I was, choking on his cock and loving every second of it. I couldn't deny any of it. I love being used like that, I loved being talked to like that, even though it frightened and disturbed me. I'd never been so turned on, not with Adam, not with Lance the first time. I wanted to come so bad, I wanted him inside of me.

  I could taste his pre-cum in my mouth, and I swallowed it eagerly, my throat working around him. He groaned and his hand tightened in my hair, pulling me off his cock. My jaw ached, my mouth felt raw and empty.

  Lance grinned down at me, desire bright in his eyes. His spit-slicked cock slapped gently against my cheek. “You're pretty damn good at that, Alisa. Maybe I should come on those hot lips of yours. But I bet you'd like something else, huh?”

  He pushed me back against the arm of the couch, his hands on me again. He groping my breasts roughly, pinching and twisted. I knew they'd be bruised to hell the next day, but it felt so good that I couldn't stop myself from moaning. Then his hand was between my legs.

  “Damn, you're even wetter now.” His fingers brushed my clit, sending a shock of pleasure through me. “You do love this.” He brushed that hot, tight spot against, and more pleasure flowed through me. “Maybe if you beg me, I'll fuck you.”

  Oh, god. I shouldn't. Even doing this much was bad enough, but that... I'd never imagined
myself doing anything remotely like that. I knew I shouldn't say anything, I should let him do what he wanted and not lower myself to that level.

  But even the idea of it made me even hotter. My pleasure was at his mercy, my body his to toy with. Lance was in complete control here, and despite myself, I knew that I liked it that way.

  My voice was raw and pleading when I spoke. I could hear the need and desire in it, and I knew Lance could too. There was no way I could hide it.

  “Please fuck me,” I said, my cheeks hot at the shame and dirty, forbidden pleasure of it. “Oh, god, Lance, I need it. Fuck me.”

  “You want my cock in you?” He stroked himself, slowly, eyes on me.

  “I want – no – I need your cock in me. I need it so bad, I need your big cock filling me up.” The words burst from me in a torrent, a release, as I finally voiced the desires that had been trapped inside me so long. “I need you to fuck me, use me, treat me like the whore I am. Fuck me, please, fuck me.”

  Lance's eyes burned. He flipped me over, my stomach pressed against the arm of the sofa, and then he was behind me, his hard cock pressing against the tight entrance of my pussy. Both of us were so close, and he pushed into me in one hard, rough motion, filling me.

  It felt so good I couldn't stop my moan. And then Lance began to move, fucking me hard and rough, relentless. I cried out at the pleasure of it, unable to control my voice any longer. I sounded wanton and needy, totally unlike the way I was with Adam.

  My cries built as he fucked me, his big cock pistoning in and out, slamming into my needy, hungry pussy. Each thrust shook me, pressing me against the arm of the couch, but I didn't care at all. All my attention was focused on Lance inside me, the roughness and heat of him.

  He slapped my ass hard, reached around to fondle my breasts, touching every part of me to remind me who I belonged to at that moment. His hands were as hungry as the rest of him. I felt like I was being devoured, being mastered, and I loved every second of it.