Dungeon Crawl #4

rack_300pxWelcome to the fourth week of the brand new blog hop – Dungeon Crawl. Each Wednesday, writers of BDSM will be sharing snippets from their work, and folks will be crawling round to each of them and enjoying, and hopefully adding lots of cool books to their to be read lists.

So, without further ado, here’s my snippet for this week, which is from Stately Pleasures. It follows on directly from last week’s post. Don’t forget to scroll down when you’re done reading and go and check out the other blogs on the hop. Happy crawling!

The hand stopped moving, and Jeremy spoke. ‘Horny, are we? Do you want to come?’

She attempted to nod, then realised that was impossible with her forehead pressed against the top of the dresser.

Jeremy hadn’t given her permission to move either, so she simply murmured, ‘Yes, please.’

‘Polite, isn’t she?’ Jeremy said, obviously aiming his words at Ethan. ‘What a fast learner she is. Knows she needs to wait for permission.’

‘She sure is,’ the other man said. ‘And responsive too. I mean, look at how wet she is. She’d never say so, but I bet inside she’s absolutely screaming for you to let her come. Or to fuck her. I’m sure she’d be agreeable to either option.’

Jeremy laughed. ‘You’re right. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was a bit of a slut.’

Alice stopped herself letting out an indignant retort. She knew that’s what he wanted – an excuse to tease her more, to punish her. He knew damn well she was no slut. Or did he? She had, after all, had sex with Ethan on a kitchen counter after knowing him for all of a couple of days. And they hadn’t even been on a date. It hardly counted though, did it? Based on the things on that damn list, even if she hadn’t had an impromptu fuck with the head of security, she’d have ended up having sex with him very soon, anyway. So what did it matter?

It didn’t, she decided. Jeremy was just trying to get a rise out of her. And he was going to be severely disappointed. She was no sexual deviant, like the two of them, but she was tougher than she looked, and she’d put up with anything and everything they threw at her. Rather than lying back and thinking of England, she’d lie back – or kneel, or stand, or crouch doggy-style – and think of her career. All she needed to do was weather this smut storm and she’d be made for life.

Want more? Grab your copy of Stately Pleasures here.


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