Authors: Mia Moore
Tags: #Sexy Steamy Romance, #BDSM Contemporary Romance
Fallen Too Far
Fallen Too Far
(Steamy Sizzling BDSM Contemporary Romance)
A Tale of Pandora’s
By
Mia Moore
It’s time to get out of ‘The Life’… but can she?
Being a Professional Dominatrix has been quite lucrative for Annik Dandridge. Her exotic beauty, cultured background and iron will draws the powerful and wealthy. They bow down before her, begging and craving the sweet agony of her lash. She breaks them, and once prepared, she lifts them up to incomparable ecstasy.
All of her clients knell before her. All but one.
All but Tom Eldon. He’s been a client from the beginning, and is the only one she has ever been a Submissive with. Yielding to him is intoxicating bliss the moment she surrenders and falls. Pleasure so exquisite, she should pay him!
Well, almost. This is a business arrangement after all. Although she delights in her time with Tom, it will never become anything more and she knows it. When you get down to sharp points of those brass tacks, she’s his paid whore, and he’s he is just another one of her customers. Even though she became an escort because she had no other choice, she’s fallen too far since the first time she took money for sex.
But Tom has secret longing of his own, that they could be something more than a hooker and her customer. He’s also smart enough to know that’s impossible. Not only is he too old, he has a condition that ended his first marriage years earlier. Regardless of his wealth and virility, what real woman would ever want him?
Paul is also one of Annik’s clients from the past. They had a single encounter when she was just starting out. He intended their night together to be her last. He’s sick and depraved, relishing the look of horrified terror on the faces of his victims just as they realize they’re about to die. Annik escaped from him once; when the opportunity presents itself again…
*****
Fallen Too Far is the newest book in Mia Moore’s ‘Tales of Pandora’s’ series that combines the best of ‘Pretty Woman’ and the heat of Fifty Shades!
Born to a mixed race couple, Annik is an exotic beauty who entrances Tom Eldon. What begins as a strictly business arrangement evolves into a steamy and spicy interracial romance with no limits. In this sensual read of domination and submission many avenues of sexuality are explored; multiple partners, spanking discipline, bisexual encounters are but a few of the succulent exploits Annik experiences at Pandora’s—a luxurious Adults Only sex club.
Each of the Tales of Pandora books are stand alone romance novels. These sexy full length BDSM romances are intended for adults only; adults that want to explore the magic and mystery of D/s.
A Note From The Author:
In this novel, my characters don’t always indulge in safe sex. Please, in your real life playing, play often and play safe!
Love,
Mia Moore
Published by Mia Moore
Copyright 2015, Mia Moore
ISBN: 978-1-927984-69-7
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Table of Contents
About This Book and A Note From the Author
“Annik, please stop…” Jessica whispered.
“Stop? I’m supposed to just stop right now? Is that it? It’s too hard for you? Is that it, Jessica?”
“I didn’t know!”
“You nagged for this! And now that it was getting hard to take, you want to stop? Well fuck you. Sometimes you can’t just stop.” She leaned forward in her chair, finger pointing at Jessica like a gun. “Jessica, you asked me to do this fucking interview. I told you that I wasn’t cool with the idea, but you kept asking. You went from asking, to pestering, to nagging me. I agreed to this interview to shut you up. And now you’re asking
me
to shut the hell up? What kind of fucking friend are you?” Annik’s words fell on Jessica like blows. She could see her friend, her best friend, recoil from the truth of each statement.
Jessica stood up. “I have to leave.” Her face was streaked with tears, mascara running like black tendrils of sadness down her cheeks. She was holding a ball of tissue in her hand, sodden and streaked.
“Coward.” Annik remained in her arm chair. “You know something, Jessica? I tried to tell you at the start that if we went through this, you wouldn’t look at me the same way. You’d see aspects of me that you didn’t know about; I’d change in your eyes.” She leaned forward. “I’ve just realized that I was more right than I thought I could be. You walk out of here now, and I will definitely look at you differently too.”
She saw the realization in Jessica’s face that she was right. Jessica was finding her story too hard to handle, and wanted to run away instead of sticking with her friend. She had been reaching to turn off the recorder when Annik said this. Her hand dropped. She bit her lower lip as she her chin fell to her chest..
“You’re right.” She sat down on the love seat and crossed her legs. “Let’s get through this. I’m not going anywhere.” She looked into Annik’s eyes with the resolve that was at the core of their friendship. Jessica Rogers was smart and strong as hell too. Annik respected that about her, and from that respect, over the last two years, affection had grown that created the bond of their close friendship.
Jessica had been a journalist for almost ten years now with the most widely read weekly magazine in the country. Her current assignment was on the caste system that exists in the present economy. There are many occupations that are almost invisible to people. They are the jobs that are done every day, but people don’t want to talk about them.
The concept started with garbage men, a job that must be done daily, or the city would choke to death on its own excrement. But nobody’s child brings Dad the garbage man to school to show off what he does for a living. During brainstorming, the list expanded to other jobs—undertaker, slaughterhouse worker, door to door salesman, and prostitute. Jessica had gotten members of the other occupations to speak to her about their jobs. She had thought getting Annik to open up about how she earned her daily bread would be a breeze.
But Annik had put her off again and again. Finally Jessica had put her foot down which led to this afternoon’s explosion in Annik’s condo.
Settling herself back in her chair, Jessica asked “Okay, where do we go from here?”
There was a half empty bottle of wine on the coffee table separating the two women. Annik poured out another glass for herself and topped off Jessica’s. She took a sip, watching Jessica over the rim of the glass. Jessica
was
a good friend. Maybe this was cathartic for her anyway. It was hard talking out loud about this… but maybe there was a point to it.
“I’ll pick it up, where I left off.”
“Wherever you want.” Jessica’s gaze was steady. No, she wasn’t going to run away.
“Okay. Like I was saying, I grew up incredibly privileged.”
“This was in Barbados, right?”
Annik nodded and put her glass down on the table beside her. “Yes, there and here in Canada, too. Poppa, even though he was a black man, was an extremely successful hotel owner. By the time he met my mother, he owned the two grandest hotels in Barbados.” She leaned forward. “Now Poppa was black, and Momma was white bread Canadian. That’s what gives me my exotic look.” She flashed a ‘I’m so pretty’ cheese grin as she swept up her almost waist length, curly hair.
“Yeah, I know, Annik. I’ve been envious since I met you.” Jessica was smiling when she said this. “Go on.”
“Right. It was a life of luxury—I didn’t realize how good I had it. I thought everyone lived this way, you know? We had housekeepers, a chauffeur, maids. I went to the finest schools in Barbados until I was fourteen. Poppa was almost twenty years older than Momma and he cashed out and retired. And we moved to Canada.” She looked out the window in the living room. “I’ve lived here in Toronto since.”
“Up here, the lifestyle continued. Poppa invested his profits very well—the interest alone paid for our lifestyle. Which wasn’t hard when your investment capital was almost a hundred million dollars. Still the private schools until University, still the chauffeur.” She laughed, sadly. “I have no memory of Momma ever driving a car, you know that? She was a soccer mom, yes,” she looked up to Jessica from her memories, “just without the mini-van.”
“And that was my life until my third year at University. One morning I woke up to my mother screaming.”
“What happened?”
“Poppa was dead in bed beside her.” Annik’s eyes closed briefly, the memory of her flying into her parent’s room and Momma shaking Poppa’s still form in the bed.
The room was silent.
“And this was where you started to cry, Annik.”
Her eyes opened and she nodded.
Annik could feel her chin start to tremble. “I remember Poppa. I remember one special day; I was probably five or so. It was a wonderful day, just me and Poppa. He had me with him at the flagship hotel he owned. I remember him carrying me and telling me that I was the greatest gift he ever had…
“I found out when I was much older that was the day that Momma had miscarried, almost died, and Poppa had learned they would have no more children…” Her voice hitched. “In his grief, and sorrow, Poppa made a magical day for me—his greatest gift.”
She burst into tears again. “And here I sit, twenty five years later, telling the world that Poppa’s girl is a whore.” She covered her face in her hands, rocked forward unleashing her torrent of grief.
And shame.
It was the first time she had ever admitted to herself how ashamed she was.
She heard the soft whishes of tissues being pulled from the box on the coffee table and Jessica creeping to her side. A hand pressed fresh tissues into her own. Jessica crept back to her seat.
The sobs kept going for as long as they needed to. She had always been fearful that if she had ever started to cry over this, she would never stop. Or else she’d shatter like spun glass.
Eventually, like all storms of sorrows, it passed. Calmness filled her.
She lifted her head from her hands and looked to Jessica.
And laughed.
“You look like Alice Cooper, you know.”
“Then that makes two of us, hon.”