Saving My Submission by Jenna Jacob
I never intended Joshua Larsthe sexy-as-sin sculptor to be more than a one-night stand. How was I to know his masterful hands and dominant command would wake the sleeping submissive within me? Any of my friends would have said that Mellie Carson was an independentsuccessful woman who would never kneel for a man. I’d already chalked my one foray into surrendering my control up to naïve stupidity. I was far too smart now to do it again—or so I thought. Then came Joshua… Determined to resist his powerful drawI tried to forget himbut Fate—and a killer—had other plans. Nowin Joshua’s armsI might be safebut I fear my heart isn’t. Can he save my life while saving my submission?
August 18th, 2014
Situated on a tall pedestal was the tiny figure of a naked woman, kneeling. Her face was upturned toward the heavens and her long slender neck banded in a wide metal collar. My breath caught in my lungs as I stared at her hands resting on her splayed thighs—palms up—her pose undeniably submissive.
Tears burned the back of my eyes and my heartbeat quickened. The statue called to me in a way so powerful and primitive, I couldn’t stop staring. How had the man managed to transform a lump of clay into such a powerful reflection of submission? The enthralling piece of art seemed to have been crafted as a tribute from the heart.
The intricate details were so painstakingly exact that meticulous tears clung to slivers of her eyelashes. So realistic, I could clearly see the lines on her palms and whorls carved into each fingertip. Even the pads of her heels had been etched like the living. Long hair fell in soft curls over her slender shoulders and cascaded down her back, kissing the apex of her ass.
Studying her oval face, her prominent cheekbones, narrow nose, and full lips bore a disturbing resemblance to my own. A shiver slithered up my spine. The longer I studied the piece, the more convinced I became; she wasn’t gazing toward the sky. No, the girl was focused on the face of some unseen Master—seeking approval, pleading for Dominance, or begging his mercy.
Entranced by the lifelike figure, memories bubbled to the surface, igniting a blistering fire of longing and neglect. Seduced by the smoky images filling my mind, I could see myself—through the eyes of an unknown voyeur—kneeling before the man who once held my heart, mind, and soul. Lost in reminiscence, the ghostly sound of my own submissive voice resonated in my ears, while sheltered surrender warmed my empty soul. My days had been bound to unfulfilling duties and tasks, but my nights… oh, my nights had been spent liberated in the bliss of submission. Every cell in my body ached to re-live that glorious feeling…for one more night.
The sensation of hot tears sliding down my cheeks brought me back to the present. Quickly brushing them away, I lifted the champagne to my lips with a trembling hand. The bubbly liquid fizzed over my tongue and I swallowed tightly, unable to look away from the work of art.
“She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she?” A deep voice asked in a smooth, velvet whisper.
Even the stranger’s question didn’t lure my gaze away. I absently nodded. “Yes,” I murmured.
“She speaks a language you seem to understand. I’ve watched you stare at her for over half an hour,” the whisky-voiced man noted. “Tell me, why the tears?”
His question finally broke the statue’s spell and I jerked my head toward the stranger. Startled, I found myself gazing into the same striking green eyes from the article about the tragedy that befell Joshua Lars. No longer haunted with pain, the artist’s eyes held something far scarier… awareness.
Giveaway Info: Jenna is giving away 5 Paperback copies – signed + swag of “Saving My Submission” (When they become available – 2-3 weeks) US ONLY