Tag Archives: guest blogger

His Boss, Her Dom by Raven McAllan

His Boss, Her DomBlurb

Having a relationship with your boss is never easy, especially when it involves kink. Jamie might need to salute Eva and call her Ma’am at work, but when it’s just the two of them, he is Master to his puss.

They are determined to make their unusual situation work, but, first they have to solve the case of the shady next door neighbors.

Available from: Amazon UK | Amazon US | All Romance eBooks | BookStrand | Evernight Publishing

 

Excerpt:

Every fiber of her subbie being wanted to kneel and ask to submit to him. But as the letter told her she was to take another week’s leave, and have a ‘dalliance’ with the new postie, she’d need to be careful. A dalliance in the name of work was one thing. A dalliance because she wanted to submit to him was another. She was still his superior officer, and in charge of this case, or whatever they chose to call it. Case was a bit of a misnomer. All she’d mentioned was a lot of very expensive top of the range cars were driving up the lane, and the same cars weren’t coming back. It seemed that had interested some people in the force, hence Jamie the new postie, who filled his uniform rather nicely.

Mind you if I remember rightly, he fills his police one to perfection as well. Shit he’s young though. Cougar is okay, right? Well it doesn’t matter in the lifestyle so sod it. But this isn’t the lifestyle or Dommissimma. She put the dog down and watched abstractedly, as he turned around in circles and settled in his basket. Then she went on with her internal argument.

Damn it, does dalliance cover a bit of subbing? Probably not, more’s the pity. And he doesn’t recognize me anyway. It was probably just as well. To be the superior to the guy who had you almost bare ass naked strapped over a spanking bench and flogging you until you flew, could cause a few problems. Best not to bring it up unless he did. Not until after. If, she thought despondently, there was any chance of an after. He might throw a wobbly because she hadn’t been open and honest with him. After all, he was a Dom, and even in the short time she’d played with him in Dommissimma, the BDSM club she went to in Glasgow whenever she got the chance—which wasn’t often—she knew damn well he was a good one.

Why is life so bloody complicated? Oh fuck it. Eva decided it was time to pull up her big girl panties and get over her mump. She’d always been a sub, never wanted to be a Domme, and was happy and comfortable with that. However that part of her was separate from her work persona where she was in charge. There she was his superior officer—even if only for the time being—and she couldn’t forget it.

Later, was later, as her cliché-ridden boss had a penchant for saying, along with, ‘now was now’, and ‘no time like the present’. As well as ‘priorities take precedent’. Which was so bloody obvious that Eva always wanted to snigger when she heard him utter it.

She rummaged in the fridge and found the ingredients to make paella. If Jamie didn’t like seafood he could have a quiche. The garlic made her pause for a second, but not to put it in, on the off chance of getting close up and personal, was stupid. It was work, not play of any kind. However, just thinking about playing with Jamie, Master Jamie, made her knickers wet. Eva gave into temptation, put the paella in the bottom, simmering oven of the Aga and took herself upstairs for a short and fast session with her bullet. It took three climaxes before she was sobbing and spent and slumped limply on the bed. The memories of his crop on her ass, and the tight nipple clamps he attached to her nubs, and linked them with a chain he attached to her clit and pulled on to apply pain, featured in most of her wet dreams and climax inducing fantasies. This had been no exception. Her pussy was soaked and her juices coated her thighs and the fingers she’d used to help her bullet, and increase stimulation. The pulse between her cunt and ass throbbed hard and with each beat, more of her juices spurted out. She hadn’t come so hard, or needed to, for many a long month. Work had been so demanding the nearest she’d had to a wet dream had been falling asleep in the bath.

Now, with the reappearance of Jamie, it seemed that her libido roared back with a vengeance. She could only hope it stayed that way, and every climax wasn’t a solo one.

 

Hair july 14Author Bio:

Well what can I say?

I’m growing old disgracefully and loving it.

Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.

Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.

I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I’m often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I’m not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.

Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.

Temptation: The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires by Elizabeth Shore

tourbutton_ladysmutThanks so much for having me on your blog today! Now that we’re just a month into the new year, I thought it would be a good opportunity to talk about something decadent: temptation! And speaking of … how’s that new year’s diet going? Are the sweets in the office pantry shouting at you to gobble them down? Are they tempting you with their delicious decadence? And are you, poor soul, trying like a battle-hardened soldier not to give in?

For kicks, I did a quick Google search on “denying temptations” and got a boatload of religious references, beginning with “The 3 temptations of Jesus.” Oops. Not what I was looking for. But after a few more searches I hit pay dirt. Scottish novelist A.L. Kennedy wrote an article about why we’re tempted to do naughty things when no one’s looking. A-ha! Now we’re talking.

Her article points out that the influencers of good behavior, such as positive leadership, collaborative support, and moral guidelines can have the opposite effect and tempt people into bad actions when the oversight is removed. So when you know no one’s looking, for example, you might be tempted to swipe goods from a store or have an illicit affair. If we think we’re not going to get caught, the temptation to indulge where we ought not proves – to some – irresistible. If you knew with absolutely, positively 100% foolproof certainty that you would never get caught, what would you be tempted to do? In the absence of consequences, would you be bad? Really, really bad?

On the flip side, why are we not tempted toward the good and wise, as in, “I’m so tempted to exercise and eat healthy every day!” “I’m so tempted to be knowledgeable about the stock market!” Is it because being good is a lot more work and, truthfully, not very fun? Is that why there’s so much allure in being bad?

My story, Divine, in our anthology, The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires, explores the temptation of having anything and everything you want – for a sky high price. I’m fascinated by the idea of how far people will go in order to fulfill their desires. My character is a struggling documentary filmmaker who’s been surviving on hard work and crossed fingers for as long as she can remember. She can turn it all around in a single evening, but she can never, ever get back what she has to give up. It’s definitely an enticing  yet scary proposition. Will the temptation of having it all be too much to resist? Hopefully I’ve tempted you to read and find out.

The other stories in the anthology also play with a little bit of a fear factor.  They’re not horror stories—but they do provide a little shivery feel to go along with the steamy hot sex.

Hope you check out all our links below – come say ‘hi’ to us at LadySmut.com.  And thanks again for having me on your blog.

 

Lady Smut Dark DesiresBlurb: Four sexy paranormal stories to make you shiver with fear and delight.

  • THE IMMORTAL LONGING OF BRENNA BANG, by Liz Everly When a vampire materializes through her computer, successful vampire-romance romance author Brenna Bang finds herself marked for inescapable passion with a tech savvy bloodsucker.
  • THE LYING, THE WITCH & THE WARDROBE by C. Margery Kempe Christina tries to figure out how to unlock her grandmother’s wardrobe and uncover what happened all those years ago when the goblins came to offer their sensuous erotic fruits. 
  • SEXSOMNIA by Madeline Iva Jenny needs to unravel the mystery of what she does at night and who she does it with in order to subdue the sexual demon inside her. 
  • DIVINE by Elizabeth Shore Locked in an abandoned mental asylum, an ambitious filmmaker soon discovers she’s trapped with a Dionysian god.  He offers her a glimpse of astounding future artistic success—but it will only come true if she’ll perform an erotic ritual to free him. And what she has to give up she can never get back. 

 

Buy Links:
Amazon US
Amazon UK 
B&N
Kobo

 

About Lady Smut:

Lady Smut is a blog for intelligent women who like to read smut.  On this blog we talk about our writing, the erotic romance industry, masculinity, femininity, sexuality, and whatever makes our pulses race.  Need to contact us? Email ladysmutblog@gmail.com

Website: http://www.ladysmut.com
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Guest Blogger: J.D. Martins

Thanks, Lucy, for giving me the chance to talk today about my debut novella, One Night in Madrid, which as your readers probably know, is part of the City Nights Series.

 

One Night in Madrid by JD Martins - 500Here’s the blurb:

Danny left Dublin for Madrid two years ago, but still scans the crowd in the Irish pubs for the face of someone from home. Though doubtful he’ll ever recognise anybody, one evening he sees Aisling, a girl he’d known – or wished he’d known – at university. Beautiful but haughty, she’d always ignored Danny, and though he’d fantasised about making love to her, she’d never so much as smiled at him.

To his amazement, Aisling is extremely friendly when she meets him all these years later and away from home. She is still snobby and condescending, but Danny decides to make her night as enjoyable as he can, hoping for one last chance to impress her and make his teenage fantasies come true. As the sultry Madrid night progresses, mere lust grows into affection, and Danny begins to see her snobbery as something else entirely. Will Aisling see Danny as more than just a way to pass her night in Madrid?

 

 

In the story, Danny has the chance to talk to a girl who in the past had spurned not just his potential amorous advances, but refused to acknowledge his very presence. He could have chosen to ignore her now, meeting her on the neutral ground of Madrid, his new home turf. But he decides to pretend he does not distain her. In his case, he does it because he still feels lust towards her – an emotion stronger than distaste.

Whether or not he is right to give her a “second chance” his something the reader must decide…

But if you were in a bar and saw someone from our own past, who you were once attracted to but who had, at least in your opinion, looked down on you, would you give them the time of day, or ignore them by pretending you didn’t see them, or recognise them?

Excerpt:

Draining the glass, Danny placed it on the bar, debating whether to have another pint, or stroll home and have a glass of wine while he prepared dinner. The plan was just one pint, but he needed to tell himself that twice; once when he went into the bar and again when he’d finished the drink.

And then he saw her.

She stood quite near, surrounded by a tight knot of people at the edge of the dance floor that had parted momentarily. She wore a cotton summer dress that showed the sweep of her shoulder blades and spine. The dress was floral, red with splashes of black and dark blue. She wore soft brown leather sandals that were almost invisible against her tanned feet. Her toenails were painted red but her fingernails were French polished. A silver or white-gold bracelet hung from her right wrist, and on her left she wore a silver wristwatch, which a discreet look later told him was a Patek Philippe. In her ears she had diamond stud earrings, and on the ring finger of her right hand was a silver ring with a blue stone he couldn’t identify.

He didn’t see her face straight away, yet something deep inside him said it had to be her.

In college, he’d often stared at this girl’s long blonde hair from a few seats behind in the lecture theatre, while far below them a maths professor droned on about matrices. He knew the shape of her head and neck, had observed her tie up that hair, amazed at the beauty of the fine, straight filaments, the way the strands slid like silk over one another, yet held as one tight rope. When she was an infant her mother had clearly decided ever cutting such hair would be a sin, and she’d concurred. She plaited it, put it in a ponytail, tied it up around a clip made of what seemed to Danny like a piece of wood and two chopsticks, or simply a spare pencil. Sometimes it splayed out across her shoulders like a cascade of spun gold. Now it was pulled up in a silver clasp, to reveal the nape of a long, fine neck, and soft-skinned shoulders.

Those shoulders had been bared before, in a hot September of their freshman year, and later, during the intense study month when the cherry blossoms bloomed and fell across the lawns of campus. Danny had fantasised about slipping off that shoulder strap, letting the silky string fall down along her arm, trailing his fingers along her collarbone and ribs and pushing aside the top to expose her breasts.

When she turned around in the bar and he saw her face, Danny instantly searched through his memory to match her visage, and see all six numbers of recognition. It came out a winner. She stared back at him, her brain no doubt doing the same. Although still early, and most—apart from the pre-marriage revellers—were only on their second or third drink, Danny thought she must have been fairly merry already, because as she recognised him she smiled.

She’d never smiled at him before—not in four years of college. Then again, they’d not interacted much. They’d never really talked, never attended the same classes after second year. He’d always told himself she’d never smiled at him because she didn’t know him. Once or twice, of course, she’d turned around, casually, and seen him. But she’d seen lots of others sitting behind her, too. The back rows of the lecture theatre were filled with Danny’s friends, who’d varying levels of interest in her hair and the maths lecture; from zero to all-absorbed.

The chance to get to know her had never come around. She’d majored in chemistry, Danny in computer science. He had taken a chemistry class in second year, but she’d always seemed to sit on the opposite side of the theatre then. His gaze had often paused upon her face as he searched through those assembled in a lecture the way he did through the throng of a bar.

She was stunning. Her frame was that of someone who was fit without effort. A swimmer or a gymnast at some point, she had a fine body, breasts the way Hemingway described, wide womanly hips and a behind that eyes or hands could never tire of. She had crystal blue eyes like deep Antarctic ice, and a button nose. Her mouth was perfect. Her teeth had had money spent on them, but her lips were natural; she had a dazzling smile. But before that moment in a Madrid bar, Danny had only received the coldness of those glacial eyes.

 

Facebook Page:  https://www.facebook.com/JDMartinsauthor

Author page on Tirgearr Publishing: http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Martins_JD/index.htm

 

Purchase links for all formats:

http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Martins_JD/one-night-in-madrid.htm

 

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00RY328RY

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00RY328RY

Merry “Chris” Mas by Clare Dargin

cd-lpms-merrychrismas-fullBlurb:

[Ménage Amour: Erotic Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, HEA]

Jilly Reimers wants love but can’t find it. Chris Spinell is a veteran of the war in Afghanistan who suffers from PTSD and a haunting feeling that something is missing in his life. Chris Poole is also an Afghanistan war veteran is ready to break out of his shell but is unsure how.

With Christmas just around the corner, they decide not to spend it alone. Believing The Love Play Matchmaking Service to be just what they need for a night of fun and passion, they sign up. But when the guys show up and see that they’ve been set up on a menage, the only one happy about it is Jilly.

Their consultant, called an Eros, assures Jilly that the service has a perfect track record but she’s certain they’ll be the first ones to get their money back. Will they have a very merry Christmas? Or will the three spend yet another one alone?

A Siren Erotic Romance

 

Excerpt:

Chris S. slipped her undies over her round hips. They slid down her baby-like skin, exposing her shaved mound. More blood flowed to his dick, making whimper.

“God,” he said, fighting tears.

Through gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes, he forced himself to maintain control. It was getting to be damn near impossible. Everything about her was fucking outstanding. Lips, breasts, skin and pussy. He was ready to fill her pussy with his thick, hard dick.

He slid his finger into the folds of her wet interior. The thin crease surrounded by supple labia oozed moisture from her tight and tiny hole. He slid a finger inside her hole, and her taut muscles quivered at his touch.

“You want it?” he asked.

She moaned “yes” before being silenced by the other Chris’s mouth. He inched her legs apart. Moving in just right, he tasted her. Explosions went off in his brain. She was pure, simple, clean and honeyed. He wanted to mark her as his own. Delving his tongue in and out of her tight hole, he held her still, allowing her juices to saturate his mouth.

Lifting her legs, he opened her wider, curling her upward, burying his face in her mound. His breaths increased as his heart rate grew frantic. His hard dick, standing at full scale attention, threatened to bust a nut if he didn’t stop.

Pulling away, he set her down gently. “Got to go get a condom.”

The other Chris looked up, his eyes equally as dazed as he felt.

She swallowed, seeming breathless. “My bag, by the wall.”

The time for being cool had passed. Quicker than he’d wanted and less suave, he dashed toward it, finally seeing the stash. Grabbing the entire lot, along with a bottle of lubricating gel, he opened the box and pulled out two, handing one to Chris and keeping the other for himself. Setting it aside, he removed his shorts, exposing his aching dick to the room’s cool air. He grimaced as he slid the latex over his shaft. It hurt with a pain that would only be relieved by what Jilly had to offer. He squeezed the gel, which had the scent of strawberries, onto his palm. He fisted his hand and soaked his condom-wrapped rod with the smooth, thick liquid. The mere pressure of his hand gave him some relief, albeit short.

“Me first,” he said, climbing onto the bed.

Calming himself, he lay down beside her and turned her on her side. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close. He spread her legs apart as she tilted her pelvis back. She melded her body to his. There was so much of her he wanted, not only her body, but her soul, mind, and yes, even her heart.

He took a hand and placed himself at her entrance. Slowly he pushed inside. He grunted and made himself hold back, lest he spill at that moment.

She was so tight. No doubt about it. This was going to be a short run. Inch by inch, he slid inside of her, stopping at the root. His balls drew in tight. He shifted her close and moved in and out slowly. Each movement became stronger as his control slipped. He needed the release, the kind that would give his aching balls sweet relief. Back and forth his hips moved inside her. She wriggled and moaned in response. Their mouths met briefly, tongues swirling, causing his stomach and heart to flutter. He increased his thrusts. Finding his target, she keened her delight.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”

She pushed her ass toward him.

“Baby, I’m going to come.”

“Come, honey. Come.”

He grunted, harder and harder. Sliding his hand down to her hard clit, he rubbed it as his panting increased. Pressure built up behind his eyes, his mind went blank as everything in the world seemed to fall away. He couldn’t stop. Harder and harder he pushed, holding her firm and tight.

With light speed, he cried out, “God!” His hips bucked upward while cum poured out of him.

Slightly dizzy, he held onto her before letting her go. “Are you all right?”

Her kiss eased the butterflies threatening to kill the moment. Sliding out of her, he sighed, relieved. He gazed into her eyes. Instantly he felt the completed connection he’d sensed along. She was the one. And he saw that she felt it too.

* * * *

Jilly recovered her breath as Chris P. gathered her up into his arms. His musky scent was so spicy and inviting. She buried her face in the crook between his shoulder and neck. She was ready.

“On your back,” he said, holding her.

She nodded.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said, whispering in her ear.

From her tall Adonis, she was ready to receive all he gave her. Trust welled up within her heart. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

Placing her on back like she weighed nothing but a feather, he positioned himself on top of her. A lock of his blond hair obscured his face. She opened her legs. She felt his solid, round tip prod her hole. Panting, he pushed inside of her, his raw strength causing her pussy to clench. Each muscle spasmed to accommodate his thick and meaty cock. She cried out along with him. He braced himself.

 

Buy Link– http://www.bookstrand.com/merry-chris-mas

 

Author Bio

Clare Dargin is an author of Science Fiction and Romance and has been writing stories all of her life before being published in 2007. She’s a great fan of the two genres and loves promoting them.

An educator by profession, she possesses a Bachelor’s Degree in English from a major mid-western university. She presently resides in the Midwest and she hopes to expand her writings to include non-fiction, historical romance, and contemporary novels.

Author Links- http://claresblog2thehaven.blogspot.com

http://theembraced.blogspot.com

Being At The Mercy of Your Characters by Doris O’Connor (@mamad8)

Let's Get It OnHello everyone, and a big thanks to Lucy for hosting me today 🙂

Before I became a writer myself, I used to shake my head when someone said the above. How can you be at the mercy of your characters? They are not real, right? They are made up, make believe, your creation, you decide what happens…

Those folks had to be some sort of… well, odd person. They can’t understand the difference between make believe and real life.

*sniggers*

You know where this is going, don’t you? Yeeees, a big case of eat your own words in my case. When I actually sat down to write down all these story ideas in my head, the most annoying thing happened. This careful plan that I had, those damn characters just wouldn’t stick to it. Arguing was pointless, which brings me to another point. How can you argue with a character in your head? Screwy, right?

Well, actually, wrong. Certainly if you’re a panster like me, that happens on a regular basis. Or, perhaps I should say that used to happen on a regular basis, back in those days, when I was still under the mistaken belief that I was in charge of writing the story.

Once I let go of that notion, something magic happened. The words flowed, and somehow by the end of the book, as long as I listened to my characters, it all somehow came together and made sense.

It still amazes me every time it happens, especially with those stories where I have no clue where it is heading.

Take this story, for instance. Let’s Get it On started as a vague idea when I actually listened to the words of Marvin Gaye’s song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6QZn9xiuOE

I have always liked this song, but I never really listened to it, if you see what I mean. This time I did, and a story idea was born. Originally it was supposed to be a simple short m/f, and then I started writing it.

Some stories flow out of my head onto the keyboard—this wasn’t one of those.

No, it niggled away, with other characters interfering, and other stories demanding to be told, until finally these characters were ready to tell me all. Even then, we hit obstacles. My m/f morphed into a m/f/m. The heroine revealed that whole long back story I had no idea she had, etc.

Now, before, I would have fought them tooth and nail, but with four years’ worth of listening to my characters under my belt, I did just that. I listened and wrote. I cried with them, despaired with them, argued a teeny bit and promptly lost, and the end result is this.

A hot story for sure, but also an emotional and sad one at times that took me, as the spectator who took dictation, so to speak through the ringer at times.

Oh, there were plenty of laugh out loud moments too. Always are with my characters. As one hero once told me, “Doris, you’re telling my story, so bloody well tell it the way I tell you.”

That was me told then. Of course it doesn’t help that I tend to write Doms, and, trust me, you don’t argue with them. They wrap the little subbie in me right round their little fingers, and I do as I’m told. Much to hubby’s/Sir’s amusement. He is used to me now when I mutter about those damn domly types. After all he is one himself, and when he gets that look, nope, not arguing with him either. No, Sireee.

On the flip side of that, he is also quick to offer a cuddle when I emerge after writing a particularly difficult scene. He gets me, which is just as well, or I reckon he’d have had me carted off to the loonie bin by now.

Yep, I’m one of those odd folks, at the mercy of her characters. 🙂

 

Let’s Get it OnBlurb:

[Ménage Amour: Erotic Consensual BDSM Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, spanking, caning, ice play, erotic asphyxiation, sex toys, HEA]

When Lily Jephson falls asleep at work, her erotic dream is witnessed by none other than her boss’s brother. Awkward doesn’t begin to describe it, especially when she can’t help but respond to the enigmatic Dom. She wants his brother…doesn’t she?

Cyrus Cooper loves to play games, and he can’t resist the opportunity to yank his brother’s chain a bit. Nothing will convince the stubborn Sloan more to finally make a move on Lily than thinking this delightful subbie is involved with Cyrus.

However, when it becomes apparent that Lily needs help to work through the emotional scars left behind by her early introduction into the lifestyle, Cyrus knows this is far more than a game. The brothers are just the Doms to show her what a true D/s relationship should be like.

Lily thrives under their combined Dominance, but when her old Master re-appears her life is put in danger.

She has never needed her Sirs more.

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/lets-get-it-on

*****

Erotic Excerpt:        

“Hmm, such a sweet, delicious subbie we have here. Dessert number two for you and me, me thinks.”

Cyrus’s sandpapery voice sunk into her consciousness, and she almost leapt off the chair when both men’s hands delved between her pussy lips this time. Sloan sunk several fingers knuckle-deep into her hole, while Cyrus circled her clit repeatedly.

They murmured their approval as she grew embarrassingly wet for them, and, biting back a moan, lifted her hips to give them better access. She curled her fingers round the edges of her chair to give her more leverage. God, she was close, so close, if only—

The yank to her hair hurt, and brought her arousal down a notch, and she whimpered her denial when both men withdrew their hands from her cunt.

“Naughty little subbie, trying to hurry us along.” Cyrus’s stubble created more tingles of awareness across the sensitive area under her ear, as he whispered the words to her and then bit down on her earlobe. His fingers dug into the flesh of her upper thigh as she jerked and tried to close her legs. Sloan, too, had a bruising grip on her other leg, and, pinned between her men, she couldn’t move.

“Please… I need to, please?” The barely still functioning side of Lily’s brain marveled at the desperate quality to her voice, but the needs of her body won over. These were her men, and they would take care of her, eventually. Rushing them when they were both in full Dom mode wouldn’t achieve anything.

“Trust us. Let us take you out of your head for a little while, pet.” Sloan’s voice this time, and Lily sighed and nodded. Sloan claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss and she jumped when something incredibly cold dribbled into her cleavage. Sloan broke the kiss with a smile and she lost herself in the tender approval in his gaze.

“Shut your eyes for me, baby. Allow yourself to feel. We’ll make this so good for you, I promise.” Her stomach contracted in need and she drew a much needed breath into her lungs and let her eyes flutter shut.

“Beautiful.” Cyrus’s voice as yet more coldness dribbled along her lips and down her chin. An ice cube. She realized what it was with a start when Cyrus pushed the slippery object into her mouth. She crunched on it, and her nostrils flared as someone pulled her dress down until her breasts were exposed. Another set of hands bound her hands to the chair, and then her legs were lifted off her men’s legs, her bum shoved further forward on the chair, and ropes secured her legs to the chair, also. It allowed for the tiniest amount of wriggle room and she let her head fall back and bit her lips, when calloused fingers traced what had to be another ice cube up the inside of her thigh with agonizing slowness. Sloan, she recognized his heavy breaths as he leaned in close, traced another cube across her nipples in turn. The already hard buds contracted further. Shivers raced across her skin and she screamed when that piece of ice between her legs reached her cunt. Her pussy clenched in shocked need as the coldness slid along her fevered folds, circled her clit, and then was pushed inside her hole without warning. The coldness numbed her insides, and her vaginal muscles clenched around the object of torture, trying to expel it, and both men laughed.

“Oh, no, you don’t” Cyrus’s voice held that cruel streak he delivered so well, and her stomach lurched at his next growled words. “In fact, I think you can take more.”

“No, no, please, I… shiiiiit, nooo.”

Lily strained against her restraints, as the men’s laughter registered over the roaring in her ears, and Cyrus pushed several more ice cubes into her hole. Her insides cramped and her whole body shook in need as Cyrus’s warm hand cupped her slit and stopped her from expelling the cubes. His thumb circled her clit repeatedly, such a hot contrast to the coldness in her pussy, and then two hot mouths closed over her nipples and suckled hard.

Lily screamed in painful arousal as those nips and tucks delivered darts of pleasure to her clit, and her body shook with the force of her orgasm.

“So fucking hot. That’s our beautiful girl, come for us again.” Sloan interspersed his words with hot openmouthed kisses down the column of her neck and across her boobs. The fabric of her dress was further tugged down and she whimpered when Cyrus, she presumed, pushed another two ice cubes into her pussy hole. Warmth followed coldness, as his hot breath skittered across her labial lips, and she bucked as his mouth closed over her clit and sucked. Sloan chose that moment to swirl his tongue through her bellybutton and then resumed a slow path back up to her boobs. Another ice cube was applied to her nipples, making them ache and then Sloan’s warm mouth and fingers took that ache away. Heat flared through her as the last of the ice melted inside her channel and Cyrus pushed his tongue inside her cunt, and ruthlessly pushed her into another orgasm.

Swept away in ecstasy and with her whole body trembling in aftershocks, Lily was dimly aware of both men withdrawing and the rustle of clothes and then Sloan’s calloused fingers tilted her head back more. The room spun as the chair tilted backwards and then Lily stopped thinking altogether, as Sloan’s familiar salty musk invaded her senses.

“Open up for me, pet. It’s time for us both to fill your holes.”

let's get it on 2

*****

Author Bio:

Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris… at least that’s what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.

There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.

She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Stalking Links

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D&S Duos Book One by Lisabet Sarai

Passionate woman with shibari posing in studioBlurb

D&S Duos Book 1 combines two of Lisabet Sarai’s hottest BDSM short stories into one sizzling package. In “Body Electric”, a professor of engineering charms his female colleague into experiments on the erotic effects of electricity. In “Limits”, an established Master/slave couple push their relationship to next level of trust – blood sports. Also includes a searing excerpt from Lisabet’s BDSM erotic thriller Bangkok Noir.

Available from: Amazon UK | Amazon US

Barnes and Noble, iTunes, etc. Coming soon.

 

Excerpt

The thing in his hands looked like something from a 1940’s horror film. It had a handle, topped with a mushroom-shaped globe of glass that glowed with a malevolent purple light. Inside the glass, bright sparks danced. Their images flickered on the wall next to the bed.

Slowly, he brought the bulb closer to my bare flesh. The crackling noise grew more intense. He hovered above my nipple. “Don’t move,” he whispered.

All at once a rain of sparks shot from the tube to the taut node of flesh. I was being pierced with a thousand needles. I screamed, as much from surprise as from the pain. Ryan pulled the device away, as I tried to catch my breath.

“Colette?”

“Sorry, Doctor. I wasn’t expecting…” Before I could finish, his mouth was on my recently assaulting nipple, lapping and sucking, soaking my skin with his hot saliva. I felt every movement of his tongue deep in my cunt. When he brought the glowing globe close again, I thought I was ready. This time, though, the sparks were stronger, hotter, more painful. Electricity crawled over my breast, wherever he had left traces of wetness.

Before I could recover, he was sparking my other nipple. I jumped and squirmed. My cunt contracted with each contact. He stroked my stomach. “You’re all sweaty,” he said. The thing sputtered and popped. Miniature bolts of lightning showered down on my navel. “And your thighs are smeared with cunt-juice…” He swept the wand slowly over my body and a long trail of sparks stitched up the sensitive skin toward my gaping sex.

“I’ve always been fascinated by electricity,” he said in a conversational tone as the bulb approached my cunt. I tensed, waiting for the jolt I knew would come. Nothing could have prepared me for the raw sensations. Sparks danced on my clit and sputtered among my wet folds. I screamed again, overwhelmed, confused as to whether I was in terrible pain or close to climax.

My tormenter paused. “I didn’t invent this handy little device, but I’ve made a few modifications. For example, I can turn up the power, or increase the frequency. Or make the variations random. Would you like that?”

All I could do moan.

 


lisabetFaceBrief Bio

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse. Learn more athttp://www.lisabetsarai.com.

Links:

Website: http://www.lisabetsarai.com

Blog: http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

Goodreads:http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/lisabetsarai

Yahoo group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lisabets_list