Take Me

By Jessamine Lane

The complete collection of erotic short stories from best-selling author, Jessamine Lane. Erotic. Erotic, taboo and fantasy all intertwined to create a powerhouse of desire that hits just the right spot.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessamine Lane
• Release date: Nov 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519995124

Book preview

Cinderella

An erotic faerie tale

Once upon a time, a billionaire's wife lay dying in the bedroom of her penthouse. She asked her daughter Cinderella to come to her bedside.

Dear child, remain good, and then the Universe will always protect you, and I will look down on you from the heavens and be near you.

And with these final words, she closed her eyes and died.

Filled with grief, Cinderella spent every day at her mother's grave, tending the roses she had planted and talking to her beloved mother. Her father, on one of his rare trips back to the city, didn't comfort Cinderella, telling her instead that she had enough time to mourn her mother.

You can't spend every day crying by her grave, we must get on with life, he insisted, checking his watch to ensure he wasn't late to his next appointment.

Cinderella hated him at that moment. Her mother had given him a child, a wonderful home and he respected her memory by telling Cinderella to get over it?

But remembered the promise she had made to her mother to be good, so she said nothing to her father, instead spending her time away from the grave at the local soup kitchen, feeding the homeless.

It happened on a summer day that Cinderella's father returned from one of his trips with a new wife, who had two daughters from a previous marriage with her.

This is your new mother, her father said, So you can stop crying now.

Cinderella was polite to her stepmother and polite to her stepsisters, but they were dismissive of her.

She realized that the woman had married her father for his money and nothing else, least of all another daughter.

Soon her stepmother had taken over their home, ripping out the interiors that her mother had painstakingly chosen, and filled the home with mirrors and gilt, so she could see herself and her wealth at every turn.

The stepsisters picked and took whatever they wanted from Cinderella's own closet, even some of her mother's items.

Take that off, demanded Cinderella when she saw the elder sister wearing a sable coat belonging to her mother.

Make me, said the girl and Cinderella, remembering her promise said nothing, but she stored it in the back of her mind, where it festered, fuelling her hatred.

Within months, Cinderella's father realized he had made a grave mistake in marrying the woman, who was spending his money almost faster than he made it, so he did what he always did; he ran away.

Claiming important business, he left Cinderella at the mercy of the three bitches and soon she was their servant.

She was made to clean the house, even though they had servants for the task and bring them meals, even though there was a maid for this, and even wash their hair and style it, just so they could complain about everything she did.

They took the allowance her father sent her every month and left her so destitute, she was forced to eat at the soup kitchen where she used to volunteer.

Every night, after her jobs were done, she would sit with the dirty and the sad and take her soup in a little cup, careful to never ask for seconds, no matter how much her stomach complained.

She always sat next to an elderly woman, who gratefully took Cinderella's bread when she offered it to her. They talked every night about Cinderella's past, and her situation now.

Why don't you tell your father how badly you are being treated? asked the old woman.

Because he doesn't want to know, and I don't want to hurt him more than he already is, she admitted. I think he misses my mother dreadfully, the work is an escape and I am a reminder of his wife.

The old woman said nothing, but she always kissed Cinderella on the forehead when she left her. A kiss for protection, she said ad Cinderella smiled at the kindness of strangers.

But she preferred that company to that at home. She knew her stepmother had a lover. She could hear them when she walked past her father's room.

The sisters were always out at parties, coming home late with a man in tow.

It happened one day that a stiff, silver envelope came to the home addressed to all of them, including Cinderella.

Her stepmother opened it greedily and read aloud.

You are invited to the ball to welcome annual summer ball, hosted by the Prince Regent.

The woman clapped her hands excitedly.

What shall we wear? she exclaimed to her daughters.

Cinderella picked up the invitation from where it had fallen from her ungrateful stepmother's hands.

She had always wanted to go to the ball; her mother promised one day she would when she was old enough. Now the time had come but she wondered if the stepmother would allow her to have a new dress also.

But the woman narrowed her black eyes at Cinderella.

You cannot think you will be attending Cinderella, she stated, gesturing up and down. Just look at you.

Cinderella turned to see her reflection in the mirror.

Her dress was torn at the hem from kneeling on it when she cleaned the bathrooms.

Her face was thin and tired.

Her hair had lost its chestnut luster months ago, and her fingernails were worn to the quick.

If I perhaps could get my hair done, and a simple dress, I would be presentable, she argued gently.

The stepsisters looked at her ruefully, It will take more than that, they said and they flounced off leaving Cinderella to wonder if being good was as worthwhile as her mother had insisted.

The night of the ball came and Cinderella helped the women get ready, hiding her tears behind her lank hair that fell over her face.

When they finally left, she took herself to her mother's grave and sat at the side, weeping for her loss.

Mother, mother, why is it all so terrible?

Is it so very terrible?

She heard a voice and turned to see the old woman from the soup kitchen.

Hello, said Cinderella, standing up and brushing down her dress.

And yes it is terrible.

She explained what had happened and the old woman smiled.

So you want to go to the ball? she asked Cinderella.

I do, so very much.

The woman smiled and stepped up to Cinderella.

She seemed different, Cinderella thought, as the woman reached upheld Cinderella's face in her hands.

If you go to the ball, everything will change, are you ready for that?

Cinderella nodded eagerly. Of course.

Close your eyes, and think of the most stunning dress in the world.

Cinderella did, and a cold wind blew through the graveyard and when she opened her eyes, she looked down to see she was wearing a long black gown, which clung to her lithe frame and showed off her lovely breasts.

What? How? she exclaimed but the old woman didn't seem surprised.

Now for your hair and makeup, she said, and the same wind blew and Cinderella touched her hair, which was in a messy but sexy ponytail.

She touched her lips and felt the lipstick and could even smell perfume.

Am I dreaming? she asked but the old woman ignored her.

And finally the shoes, she said. I think I know what will go perfectly with this, she said and with a light breeze, Cinderella was wearing a pair of red stilettos' that were as comfortable as they were beautiful.

You can go, but you must be home by midnight, said the old woman, That's when the wind changes and everything will disappear.

Cinderella nodded and the woman turned her around and tied a piece of black lace over her eyes.

A car if waiting for you outside the graveyard, she said and with a flick of her wrist, Cinderella was alone again in the night.

Did you do this mother? she asked the silent grave.

Then she turned and rushed to the car, ready for her life to change.

The ball was being held at the castle and Cinderella's car sailed through the gates, without anyone checking inside or for an invitation.

A footman opened the door, and she stepped out onto the steps of the place.

Welcome, said a page, and escorted her up the steps to the entry to the ballroom.

Nerves filled her as she saw one of her stepsisters dancing seductively with a man, and she turned, I need some air, she said and she rushed to the gardens.

She breathed in and out in the darkness, trying to control her body when she heard a voice in the darkness.

Are you in distress? Can I fetch someone inside for you?

Cinderella turned to the direction of the voice.

'I don't think I should be here," she said.

You certainly look like you should be here, you're without a doubt the most beautiful woman attending this ball.

Cinderella smiled a little at the compliment.

Thank you but perhaps I should just go home, I don't belong here with these people, I'm nothing.

Never say that, his voice was stern in the shadows. Do you understand me? Never say that about yourself again.

Cinderella was shocked at his tone, but she nodded, a little afraid of his outburst.

Come here so I can see you better, he ordered in the same tone, and she stepped forward into the dark.

She felt her nipples harden in the cool air, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

Drop you arms, he said.

And she did.

She could feel him so close to her, but she couldn't see him thanks to the lace and the night.

Your curve of your hips in that dress is poetic, he said, and then he ran a finger along her bare arm and while she knew she should pull away, she couldn't.

And the way your breasts rise and fall, when you're anxious, is enough to start a man wondering what they would look like out of the dress.

Cinderella felt as though she was falling into the night, as his hand rested on her hip.

The scent of jasmine filled the air, and the music from inside drifted across the garden.

Without thinking twice, Cinderella allowed one of the straps of her dress to fall off her shoulder, so a breast was revealed, the light catching her pale skin.

Perfection, he said, as though he knew she was going to reveal herself to him all along.

His fingers ran over her rosebud nipple and he pulled it gently, as a little gasp came from her lips.

Do you like that? he asked.

She nodded.

I can't hear you, he said in the tone from before, and she nodded again.

Yes, I like it.

Fire invaded her body and she felt butterflies churn in her stomach.

What was she doing? Why wasn't she inside drinking champagne and dancing?

Do you want to join the others? he asked her, as though reading her mind.

But she shook her head, No, I want to be here.

And what else do you want? he asked in a softer tone now.

I don't know, she admitted and then she raised her head. Everything. I want everything.

At her words, his mouth crushed hers and she felt