"My submission is a gift from me to you, Master Jericho, but remember the submissive is always the one in control," Mercedes Duchene says with a coy smile as she kneels before her Lord and Master. The tall, curvy and absolutely stunning Haitian-American Amazon cut a striking figure genuflecting on the carpeted floor of their basement, and as her eyes met those of her lover, matching his in intensity, a shiver ran down her spine.
"It is a gift I accept and treasure," Master Jericho Marcelin replied in that deep baritone voice that made Mercedes tremble with anticipation. Sitting on a throne-like chair, his nude, sculpted chocolate body a vision of masculine beauty, the Master looked like an ancient African prince magically transplanted to modern times. Mercedes could barely restrain herself from drooling over this ebony knight.
From the moment they met, Mercedes sensed that she and Jericho were meant to be together. The tall, handsome young Haitian brother born and raised in Montreal was a newcomer to lively and at times turbulent Miami, where the local ladies found his French-inflected accent oh so charming. Jericho transferred to Mercedes's school from the University of Montreal, and found more than he bargained for in sunny Florida.
Until Mercedes met Jericho, she'd been wary of Haitian guys, whether foreign-born or local. The men of her community were charming, lively and undeniably masculine, but quite notorious for their player ways. Like a lot of female students at FSU, Mercedes always noticed the cute new guys. Looking at Jericho, Mercedes knew that he was trouble with a capital T...and she did not care. A real go-getter from the cradle, Mercedes always went after that which she desired, whether in academia, sports or her personal life. She just hoped Jericho didn't find her too hot to handle...
"Watch where you're going, bro," Mercedes said to Jericho, with all the haughtiness she could muster. This as the tall, well-dressed brother accidentally brushed against her while entering the Pollo Tropical restaurant located within walking distance of the FSU campus. The brother looked her up and down, smiled and stroked his goateed chin, and she cocked an eyebrow.
"Feisty, aren't we? Well, ladies first, anyways," Jericho replied with that trademark smirk of his, and then he held the door for her, and Mercedes huffed, then walked ahead of him. Jericho noted the tall sister's mahogany skin, her thick Afro, and that provocative "Black Lives Matter" T-shirt she wore. Hot damn, this woman was something else. As Mercedes lined up at the counter, she could feel his eyes on her ass. Barely repressing a smile, Mercedes turned around, and her eyes met Jericho's. If he was surprised at her catching him checking her out, the brother definitely didn't let on. Poker faced to the max, that's Jericho Marcelin in a nutshell.
"Like what you see?" Mercedes asked, licking her lips, and Jericho smiled and shrugged. Most guys would have found Mercedes attitude and directness an affront to their manhood, but Jericho was a master of the game, with experience belying his years. Most men fancied themselves the chasers, they decided when and where they approached a woman, or so they thought. Most of the time, it was the other way around, as most women knew, but the fellas didn't seem to be catching on.
"Beautiful, elegant, and a tad bit ferocious, mademoiselle, you must be from the islands," Jericho said, and paused for effect. Mercedes looked him up and down, a smile slowly spreading across her full, sensuous lips. The tall, handsome brother spoke with an accent she didn't know, and didn't carry himself like a local dude. Nope, this guy had out-of-towner written all over him. Still, his quiet confidence and undeniable swagger appealed to her, so when he asked her to join him for a quick bite, she hesitated all of ten seconds before accepting. That's how it all began...
Mercedes Duchene, born in Boca Raton, Florida, to Haitian immigrant parents, is a star athlete on the Florida State University campus. As captain of the women's varsity rugby squad, she attracted a lot of attention. Five feet eleven inches tall, athletic and sharp-minded, a star athlete with the brains of a genius, and the looks a supermodel would envy, Mercedes intimidated a lot of men. The curse of being a strong black woman in a world full of weak, insecure men. A burden Mercedes willfully embraced...until she met the man who made her weak in the knees.
