Novelas y relatos de Bend Me Over

I shout over my shoulder. We run down the marble hallway. I spot a door. RESTROOM. I shove Alex inside. I lock the door. It’s empty. Thank god. Just marble sinks and the smell of industrial soap. "Mia?" Alex laughs, breathless. "What are we doing?" "We won," I say, my eyes locking onto his. "I need you. Now." I push him. "Bend over." Alex blinks. "Excuse me?" "The sink," I command. My voice is lower, vibrating with the harmonic undertone of the hybrid. "Bend over the sink, Alex."

"I turn all strength into dust." But this time, as the pain surged— I didn’t break. I didn’t bend. I pushed back.

“Bend over.” I leaned over it. I felt the leather cold against my chest. He strapped my ankles to the bench legs, spreading them wide. My ass was up, totally exposed. I couldn’t move much. His hand ran down my back, then my thighs. “You’re gonna count each one,” he said, picking up a paddle.

He stepped forward, then wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my head. He continued, "Give me one more chance, won't you? I want to marry you with everything I am and everything I have." I leaned back into the warmth of his embrace, listening to his steady heartbeat and feeling the salty sea breeze that drifted through the window. The pain of the past was like a deep scar in my soul. It would never disappear, but it could be soothed by tenderness. My life had descended into hell because of Damien, and now, it seemed, it would find its redemption through him, too.

I stand still, waiting for him to start walking inside. “Bend over,” he says. ‘What?” “You heard me.” I bend at the hips until my hands are hovering just inches above the dirt ground. “Grab your ankles,” Maverick says in his gruff voice. I step my feet slightly apart so that I can bend all the way down. I feel the denim material of my jeans stretching across my ass. I hear a few men walk past and whistle. “Nice ass!’ one of them yells. My face turns red. I just hope Maverick will get this over with quickly.

"Bend over baby?" "Xavier?" I feel my cheeks heat at his request, uncertainty filling me. "Do you trust me?" I bite my lip, nodding. "Then bend over." He gently pushes at my back and I obey, leaning my upper half down against his desk. He grinds his hard length against my ass. My lips part, a stuttering moan escaping me. He takes a step back and I immediately miss the friction. I try to move myself back towards him, a hand on my back stilling me against the desk. His fingers hook into my sweats, catching my underwear too, and he gently pulls them down, exposing my ass. My eyes close, my legs attempting to clench closed. Xavier already sees this thought apparently, shoving his leg between my

“Bend over and grab the other side.” Trembling, a cold sweat breaking out all over my body, I did as he said. I stretched my arms across the counter, my palms flat against the stone, my body bent at an awkward, vulnerable angle. I could hear him moving behind me, the soft, sinister rasp of his leather belt being pulled through the loops of his pants.

"Get on my knees?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing from the man I had loved for three years. In front of the entire New York underworld, he wanted his wife to kneel before a mistress and an illegitimate child! "Never." I gritted my teeth, my eyes bloodshot as I glared at him defiantly. Lorenzo narrowed his eyes, a sure sign of his murderous intent. "Vivian, don't make me do this. If you don't kneel, you can kiss your legs goodbye."

“Bend over.” I didn’t move. “Elena.” His voice dropped. “Bend over the desk. Now.” I leaned forward. Slowly. My chest met the wood. The edge dug into my hips. My skirt rode up an inch. “Further,” he said. I went further. My cheek almost touched the keyboard. The screen glowed in front of my eyes. Numbers. Columns. The blinking cursor. His hand slid down. Palm flat over my ass. He squeezed once. Hard.

"And since you've spent our tutoring session leaking all over my clothes, I think it's time we move from the theory of submission to the practical application." He reached out, his hand gripping the back of my neck, his thumb pressing into the sensitive dip at the base of my skull. He forced my head down, making me look at the desk. "Bend over," he commanded. "Do it now!" I didn't hesitate. The command triggered something primal in me.