Dark Desire: Earning Hope’s Submission

(More Desire, Oklahoma 5)

Erotic Contemporary Consensual BDSM, M/F, HEA

Hope Tyler had married the man of her dreams–the stern-faced sheriff of Desire, Oklahoma. She loved him, and his dark desires, but feared that surrendering herself completely to him would lead to him becoming bored with her, so she challenged him at every opportunity.

Ace Tyler understood his wife’s fears, probably better than she did. He’d discovered her need to submit completely, but understood her reluctance to do so, but knew, deep down, that neither one of them would be completely happy until they each gave in to their own needs.

Her demands, and an ultimatum that sent him reeling, handed him the perfect opportunity to set his plans to earn a deeper submission from her in motion.

Dominant in ways he never had with her before, he led her deeper into the world of erotic pleasure, and to a closeness that each of them desperately needed.

Excerpt

Hope stiffened and pushed away from him, getting up from his lap and putting several feet of distance between them. “You’re rich, Ace. You own Tyler Oil with your brothers. You could work with them.”

Raising a brow at the whine in her tone, he rose and started out of the room. “If I had to work there, I’d go out of my mind.”

Following him down the hall to the kitchen, she tugged at his forearm. “Then don’t work at all! You don’t need to.”

Keeping a tight rein on his temper, he shrugged her off and reached into the refrigerator for the pitcher of sweet tea. “Not working at all would make me even crazier.”

“I can’t stand it anymore, Ace! I want you to quit.”

After filling her glass and his, he set the pitcher on the table and slowly turned to her, raising a brow. “Excuse me? Quit what, exactly?”

Hope swallowed heavily and set the plate of fried chicken on the table, taking a deep breath before lifting her chin. “I want you to quit your job as sheriff.”

“No.” He went to the refrigerator, retrieved the coleslaw, and took it to the table before looking at her again.

Hope spun, slamming the bowl of mashed potatoes on the table. “No? Just like that?”

Ace inclined his head, keeping his tone calm and controlled. “No. Just like that.”

“You won’t even discuss it?”

“We just did. You knew what I did when you married me, Hope.”

“You never got shot at before!”

He waited until she dropped into her seat before lowering himself to his. “You’re so naïve, baby. Of course I’ve been shot at before. I’ve even been shot before. It’s part of the job.”

Hope’s eyes went wide. “Well, I never knew about it, and I’m not naïve. I thought the most dangerous thing you ever did was breaking up bar fights. You handle the Dominants from the club, give out tickets, and help round up horses that have escaped.”

After setting a piece of chicken on her plate, he set one on his. “Did you ever ask about my job?”

Lowering her gaze, she shifted restless in her seat, her face flushing. “Well, no.”

“Of course not. You were more interested in making sure that I accepted you as a submissive than learning more about me. I knew you were too young, but your innocence intrigued me, and I found you too irresistible.”

Raising a brow when she gasped, he let his gaze linger on her flushed cheeks before continuing. “You were raised by a mother and three very overprotective fathers who tried to shield you and your sister from the ugly side of life.”

“Like you do?”

Ace shrugged. “It’s only natural for a man to try to protect his woman, but I’ve never lied to you. I knew who you were when I married you. I knew that you were exactly what I wanted. I love you, but I won’t quit my job, not even for you.”

Jumping to her feet, Hope stamped her foot. “Damn it, Ace!”

Ace had had enough. Pausing in the process of scooping mashed potatoes onto his plate, he clenched his jaw. “Stamp your foot at me again, and I’ll put you across my knee.”

Her eyes flared with desire, the passions inside her too strong to contain. “That’s your answer? Sex?”

Confident in his ability to handle his wife’s passions—including her temper—Ace raised a brow. “Who said anything about sex? You’re acting like a brat and obviously need to be spanked.”

Hope gasped, her eyes going wide. “A brat?”

Ace reached for the coleslaw. “A brat. You’re demanding that I quit a job I’ve had most of my adult life—a job that I love. A job that I had when you married me.”

Hope sighed. “I worry.”

Ace inclined his head. “I know that, and I do everything I can to make things easier for you.”

“Sometimes it’s not enough.”

Knowing this was an issue that couldn’t be resolved, Ace dug into his dinner. “People die in car accidents every day. Do you want me to stop driving, too? You drive like a maniac just to get my attention—an unnecessary danger that scares me but that you do on a whim.”

Hope’s face flushed again. “I won’t do it again.”

Ace nodded once, pleased that he’d made his point. “Good.”

She dropped into her seat again with a sigh. “I don’t know if I can live this way anymore.”

Fear turned his stomach to ice, and setting his silverware aside, he kept his tone low and cold. “Is that an ultimatum?”

Losing her wasn’t an option, but he couldn’t allow his wife to deliver ultimatums and expect to get away with it.

Lifting her chin, she met his gaze squarely, her bottom lip trembling. “What if it is?”

“You know that I don’t respond well to ultimatums.”

With her chin still lifted, Hope wrapped her arms around herself, the combination of defiance and defensiveness a testament to the contrary woman herself. “What if I said that I would leave you if you don’t quit?”

Sitting back, he smiled coldly. “Then I would give you the spanking you so richly deserve and tell you that you’re not going anywhere. Are you sure this is the tack you wanna take?”