fbpx
Tag Archives: series

Bind Me, Sir (Bonds of Worship #1) by Lynn Burke (@AuthorLynnBurke)

Bind Me, SirBlurb:

As part of the British peerage, Jordan Graystone knows what it’s like to live in the public eye. Which is why he holds hard limits when it comes to scening with submissives—no kissing, no penetration. Both lead to unwanted emotions and women attempting to take more than he’s willing to give.

Entrusted with the care of raising her younger sister is a responsibility Natalie Perez doesn’t take lightly. She focuses solely on her troubled ward, putting aside her own desires even when confronted with the temptation Jordan promises—fulfilling her fantasies to be bound and worshiped upon an old church’s altar.

Secretly snapping a photo ends in a confrontation that arouses Natalie to the point of turmoil—and Jordan past the point of caring about limits. He’s determined to give Natalie the release she needs, but her obligation threatens to rip apart his plans for more than their agreed upon one night.

Will Natalie’s selfless dedication to her sister be the key to bind her and Jordan together or the fault that tears them apart

​PURCHASE LINKS:

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/BINDMESIR

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1132958903

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/bind-me-sir

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/bind-me-sir/id1477095020

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/953733

Books2Read Universal: https://books2read.com/bindmesirbow1

GOODREADS LINKS: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/47870665-bind-me-sir

*****

EXCERPT:

A flick of the lights flooded the room in brightness, and I blinked until he dimmed them enough I could glance around the church’s interior. It appeared the same as the first time I’d trespassed—dark and seductive, the excitement of the unknown heightening my pulse and breath.

Jordan released my hand, and I clutched my arms around my middle as he flipped the switch on a lone electric candle in the front window.

“To let others know the church is occupied,” he explained once he turned to find my brow furrowed in question. He took his time lighting candles around the room, and eventually flicked off the dimmed overhead lights and stood before me.

A shudder rippled over me at the look in his eyes, a darker blue, like the sky at twilight, full of unknown, lurking shadows. He stared at my lips and tugged me close. I dropped my arms to my sides, unsure of what to do but trusting him to tell me.

“We need to talk about a few things first, okay, love?”

The pet name, the accent in his low tone, nearly buckled my knees. I managed a nod, swallowing against the dryness in my throat as I stared at his lips.

“Do you have any experience in this lifestyle?”

I shook my head.

“Are you a virgin?”

Heat flooded my cheeks, and even though I’d only experienced sex a handful of times, I’d never enjoyed it as the women in the eBooks Lily insisted I read. I shook my head once more, too embarrassed to admit the truth of my lackluster sex life.

“Do you know what a safeword is?” he continued with the questioning, and my face heated even more at memories of the last book I’d devoured the evening before.

“Like traffic lights?” I whispered.

A twinkle lit in his eyes. “Yes. Tell me what each color means.”

“Green means go.” I swallowed. “Yellow is slow down, I need to think. Red means stop.”

He nodded. “You’re in control, Natalie. I will learn your body, your tells, but you decide what will or won’t happen tonight, okay, love?”

He would learn my body…

God, yes.

I nodded.

“Tell me—” Jordan turned me to face the room, his hands on my waist as he pressed against my back, his chin on my shoulder “—what part of this room excites you the most?”

Gulping, I glanced at the altar. “Everything,” I whispered rather than admit to the truth.

“Instruments of pain?”

The rack of items including a crop and flogger snagged my attention, but I wasn’t sure about pain other than the idea of his hand prints on my backside.

“The cross?”

I eyed the St. Andrew’s cross, flinching at the memory of a woman I’d read about being strapped to such a contraption, angry red marks across her thighs and lower back.

“The bed?”

Rings on the sturdy posts drew my focus, and I licked my lower lip.

“The altar?”

My breath caught, nipples aching as I studied the table meant for worshiping God and the ungodly images flashing in my head of being tied down—open and unable to move. Bound for a dominant’s pleasure—Jordan’s pleasure.

“Mmm.” His hot breath caressed my ear. “You do want to be strapped down to the altar, don’t you?”

I jerked my head in agreement, a million butterflies fluttering my stomach.

Jordan steered me closer with his hands on my hips, stopping me right in front of the padded altar. Coils of rope sat atop it, and I gulped at the thought of abrasions on my wrists and ankles—not that I had any intention of fighting whatever he wished to do to me.

“Tell me what you want, Natalie,” he said, his breath once again hot against my ear.

Dare I? I hesitated, embarrassed to admit what I’d fantasized about. My gaze flitted to the bed once more and the lengths of black silk draped over the bed’s foot.

“Answer me.”

I jerked my focus back on the altar and flicked my tongue out to moisten my lips. “Bind me, Sir.”

© Lynn Burke 2018

*****

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

Bowie’s Angel (Devil’s Outlaws #1) by Lynn Burke (@AuthorLynnBurke) #MCRomance #MayDec #Erotic #Suspense #Series #HEA

Blurb:

When a barely-legal blonde with a lithe, young body shows up at the Devil’s Outlaw MC strip joint to audition as a dancer, Ian “Bowie” Davies wants nothing more than to burrow between her long legs and claim her. She’s too young for his dominant side though, too innocent for the sharp edges of his darker desires. And way too hot to let another man touch her — a thought that has his hands itching to use his signature knives against any bastard who messes with his angel.

Hannah Harris ran away from home at age eighteen, desperate to escape the prison of her strict parents. Determined to delight in the sins her father preaches against, she puts her ballet talents to work, using a stripper pole to make a living. Dancing for Bowie and his blade has her panting to explore some of the “firsts” she planned to save for her future husband.

But when Bowie and his brothers attempt extortion beyond her parent’s ten-thousand dollar reward for Hannah’s safe return, she’s left with a difficult choice. Offer up the evidence to put the notorious biker gang behind bars, or protect Bowie and chalk the shit-show up as a lesson learned and begin her independent life anew — without the lying bastard who owns her heart.

Can Bowie cut through the blindfold of lies on Hannah’s eyes and surrender the truth in his heart to win her back?

*Warning: Spanking, anal sex, knife play

PURCHASE LINKS:

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/bowiesangeldo1

15% Sale at Changeling Press: https://www.changelingpress.com/bowie-s-angel-devil-s-outlaws-mc-1-b-2834

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07ND35X1F

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Bowies-Angel-Devils-Outlaws-MC-ebook/dp/B07ND35X1F

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1130503668

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/bowie-s-angel

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1451714897

*****

ADULT EXCERPT:

Too motherfucking young, but it was no wonder she’d gotten past Brewer. Mile-long legs, sexy-as-fuck flared hips, pert little breasts, all wrapped in leather that screamed sex but didn’t match what her pale green eyes revealed.

The young woman who had sauntered into my office like she had every intention of dropping to her knees if I told her to disappeared the second I’d crowded close. Close enough to drop her focus to my chest. Close enough her heartbeat thrummed beneath my thumb. Close enough I could feel the purity of her soul as though her body’s energy rippled across the inches separating us.

An inexperienced submissive for sure, and she had my dominant nature kicking and screaming for release — along with my dick strangling in my jeans. Fuck, yes.

“Look at me.”

Her eyelids snapped up, those pale eyes letting me see right into the depths of her.

“How old are you?” I asked, my smile long fucking gone.

“Twenty-one,” she whispered.

“Liar.”

She gulped again, but held my gaze.

“Name?”

“H-Hannah.” She swallowed again as I smoothed my thumb up and down over her thumping artery. “Hannah Morris.”

“Hannah. A pure-as-fuck name for a pure-as-fuck little girl who should be with her mommy and daddy rather than in the devil’s playground,” I murmured, and she straightened, tensing beneath my hold.

“I am not a little girl.” Fire shot from her narrowed eyes as she all but spit the words at me.

I pressed flush against her body, grinding my dick against her hip. “Sassy. I like a little backbone in my women.”

She gasped, her eyes going wide. “Get off me.”

To the point words, but nothing other than desire laced her voice. She made no move to escape either, her hands grasping at my shirt as though hanging on for the ride of her life.

“Twenty-one, hmm? Got proof of that?” She shook her head, and I leaned in closer, my lips a breath from hers, so fucking ready to give her that ride. “So you came in here thinking you could get a job baring your tight body and fucking that pole up on stage without an ID.”

“Yes,” she whispered even though I hadn’t asked a question, her sweet breath jerking my dick in its prison.

“Gonna cost you.”

“Wh-what?”

“Not sure yet.” My lips brushed hers like a feather, far from a kiss, and she moaned. “A kiss?” I suggested.

She swallowed, no longer tense but trembling.

“Mmm, I think so,” I murmured when she didn’t answer, lust and satisfaction simmering throughout my body. “But where?”

I pulled back, and her eyelids fluttered open, her pupils dominating the green of her eyes.

“Here?” I asked, smoothing my thumb over her plump, glossed lips.

“Here?” I brushed my knuckles down over the swell of her right tit, my dick jerking again at the hardness of her nipple beneath my grazing caress. “Or…”

I worked my hand between our bodies, down over the front of her leather skirt until I caressed the smooth, warm skin above her knee.

“Here?” I slid my palm up the inside of her thigh.

Another shudder rippled through her, and she fisted her hands in my shirt.

I rubbed my thumb in circles just shy of her pussy, need like I’d never known taking me to the edge of my self-control, a self-control I prided myself on.

“What’s it going to be, Hannah?” Ragged and low, my voice sent a shiver over her body.

“M-my lips.”

I took her mouth in a bruising kiss, tightening my hold on her neck, tilting her head and thrusting my tongue between her lips that tasted of strawberries and cream. Not just innocent, but fucking untried in every way — she didn’t have a clue what to do with her tongue, so I showed her, sliding alongside hers, tasting, taking until she got the hang of sucking face.

She whimpered, and beyond giving a fuck how old the little temptress was, I cupped her pussy.

Hot and soaked.

Fuck.

She tore her mouth from mine and whimpered.

I licked the sweet taste of her gloss from my lips and pressed the heel of my hand against her clit.

“Oh!” Lower lip between her teeth, she clenched her eyes shut, her brow furrowing as she bucked beneath my touch.

“You like my hand on you.”

She whimpered and ground against me even though she shook her head.

“You’ll like my tongue even more.” I dropped to my knees and shoved her skirt up around her tiny waist. Pink lacy panties — so fucking virginal, I groaned. Goose bumps pebbled her legs, and I lifted my gaze, sliding a finger along the edge of her panties and pushing them aside while grasping her ass cheek with my other hand.

Hannah still had her lower lip between her teeth, eyes clenched shut, hands fisted at her sides.

“Look at me.”

Like a good little girl, she obeyed, and I held her gaze, flicking my tongue out.

Sweeter than any fucking cotton candy I’d licked before. Addictive honey…

© Lynn Burke 2018

*****

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

Don’t Hold Back (Darkest Desires #2) by Lynn Burke (@AuthorLynnBurke) #Contemporary #Erotic #Romance #Series #HEA

Don't Hold BackBLURB:

Kelly Sadel has lived her life by a feels-o-meter since showing emotion as a kid was a big no-no. A timid analyst and fur baby momma, she avoids anything that stirs up her boring life. Secretly, she crushes on the man who rides the elevator with her every morning—he’s a unicorn amidst an office full of conservative short-hairs. He also sets her nerves on edge, topping her feels-o’meter to the limit, an oh-no in her carefully constructed world.

Accidentally dumping a box of cupcakes on his loafers grabs his unwanted attention, and he isn’t too quick to let go.

Jamison Byrne has worked his way through the submissives at Monique’s club hoping to find his own little subbie. He wants a collared sub, a woman to enjoy mutual pleasure his ropes bring without getting emotionally involved beyond scening.

Manipulation comes easy from years of life beneath a narcissistic asshole’s thumb, and Jamison finally gets Kelly to relent—but with her only agreeing to be friends. Jamison sweeps in but finds his feet swept beneath him as her nurturing nature opens him in ways he never expected. Sure he has found his “person,” he needs to find a way to share his darker desires and get Kelly to stop holding back and feel. He knows he can set her free, but does she want him to? Can he help her find the courage to face the emotions that come with submitting her body—and heart?

PURCHASE LINKS:

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/u/bWzJXD

Changeling Press: www.changelingpress.com/don-t-hold-back-darkest-desires-3-b-2793

Amazon: www.amazon.com/dp/B07KG91XYM

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07KG91XYM

B&N: www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dont-hold-back-lynn-burke/1129857231

Kobo: www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/don-t-hold-back-2

iTunes: itunes.apple.com/us/book/dont-hold-back/id1442235333

*****

EXCERPT:

He leaned down, close enough my breath caught, and we stopped moving with the music. “Give me the green light, Kelly.”

Mind blank, I blinked.

“If you don’t say no right now, I’m going to kiss you.”

“Yes,” I heard myself whisper. He must have read my lips because there’s no way he heard my voice above the band.

Jamison brushed his lips across mine, and everything but the thump of my heart faded to silence. Gentle sweeps of his soft mouth liquefied my bones, and I sagged against his hard chest.

One hand pulled me flush against him as the other cradled my nape, and oh, lordy, did I hang onto his shirt for dear life. He licked along the seam of my lips, and I opened, trembling and near weeping at the pure deliciousness of his kiss. His breath. His clasp on my neck—tender yet…dominant in his hold.

Wintergreen swarmed my senses along with the flavor of his mouth, the sweet, underlying taste of Jamison, and while my body was more than ready to be ravished, the feeling only intensified as the hardness trapped in his jeans pressed against my belly.

Gone. No other word for it. Caught up in a maelstrom of feeling easily topping a ten, I didn’t know what to do or think. Unable to even make a rational decision, I rode the wave, letting him lead.

Too soon, much too damn soon, he pulled back and rested his forehead on mine as we both fought for air. He started swaying again, our bodies still pressed tightly together, his grip on my neck lessening. Eventually, he began soothing his hand down my hair, and I closed my eyes, knowing I’d lost a major battle.

If Jamison asked me to go home with him, I wouldn’t hesitate, the jerk. He hadn’t gotten into my panties, but he sure as hell weaseled his way to the brink where I wanted him to reach inside my waistband and blow my damn mind.

He twisted his fist up in my hair and tipped my head back, the slight sting sending a pulse straight down to my pussy. The intensity in his dark eyes sent another rush of moisture between my thighs. My mind whispered yes to whatever question he planned on tossing out, my body so on board I wanted to cry.

“Dinner?”

What was up with me and the damn blinking? Simple idiot… He had to think that of me.

“Do you want to get some dinner?” he asked again, his lips quirking in a smirk.

I wanted to press against his hard-on and tell him I’d have a dose of that for dinner, but… I’m no notch. “Sure,” I managed.

© Lynn Burke 2018

*****

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authorlynnburke

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

Don’t Let Go (Darkest Desires #1) by Lynn Burke (@AuthorLynnBurke) #BDSM #MayDecember #EroticRomance #FemDom

Don't Let GoBlurb:

Troy Jenner’s ex called his desire to be dominated sick. Divorced, shamed, and stripped bare of his assets, Troy is gifted a three day pass to Monique’s, Baltimore’s elite sex club. He hopes to discover the depths of his desires, not fall for the Domme with a turbulent past in her eyes.

Barista by day, Mistress by night, Jaycie Atkins is the Domme assigned to fulfill submissive’s fantasies of pain with pleasure. To conquer her childhood trauma, she learned to be powerful and prudent. Always giving, never receiving. Always in control — until Troy’s grateful groans after every whip of her flogger threaten to slip past her Domme defenses. The warmth in his eyes tempting her to trust him like no other.

Will Troy’s patience and persistence in breaking down her walls pay off, or will he be forced to accept the fact Mistress will never let go and give him the collar and second chance at love he longs for?

PURCHASE LINKS:
Changeling Press: https://www.changelingpress.com/don-t-let-go-darkest-desires-1-b-2751
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Dont-Let-Darkest-Desires-Book-ebook/dp/B07FN99TMP
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dont-Let-Darkest-Desires-Book-ebook/dp/B07FN99TMP
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dont-let-go-lynn-burke/1129107928
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/don-t-let-go-34
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/dont-let-go/id1413868467

*****

EXCERPT:

I knelt in the middle of the dungeon-like room as I’d seen on the countless BDSM websites I’d been studying the past month, exactly like they’d shown us new subs at the introduction class the evening before. Butt naked, dick already at half-mast because I finally had the chance to explore the darkness inside of me that had killed my ten-year marriage.

As CEO of a prominent software company, I took pride in my self-control and stoic nature. Being a bastard had gotten me up the rung to where I sat comfortably behind a glass desk with windows overlooking Baltimore’s skyline. It had also earned me a nasty divorce a year earlier when my ex-wife took over half of what we owned, leaving me with a broken heart and near-empty bank accounts. At least a constant work load since then had gotten me closer to where I’d been before she’d attempted to wipe me out.

I studied my hands resting on my bare thighs. Springy hair tickled my palms. While the hair on my body remained a dark blond, the previous two years of hell had shot gray through the thick strands on my head and the scruff I couldn’t keep from lining my jaw.

Forty-three and already fucking gray. Wouldn’t help my chance at dating — if I ever got the balls to put myself out there again. I’d been celibate for over a year. Dead inside, unable to give two shits about anything but work, unable to get it up, too. I also didn’t have the energy to get involved, let alone think of dating.

Familiar exhaustion tugged on my eyelids, and I let them close while waiting for the Domme the club’s owner had booked me with for the night — Mistress Jaycie. A woman I’d never met, a woman I was going to let control me in whatever way she wanted.

Time to give over. Time to explore my lust for pain and hopefully float into that mysterious subspace I’d been reading about.

My dick twitched at the thought of pure, empty-headed euphoria.

Would the Domme I’d been paired with have a heavy hand? Would she be beautiful? Did I even care? I just wanted — craved — submission, the type that would erase the shit in my mind for a while and maybe get my rocks off.

My ex had been vanilla, same as I’d always been, and when I got the urge to introduce something new in the bedroom, she’d looked at me with disgust. Hell, I’d only suggested handcuffs and ropes, hoping she’d agree so we could eventually move on to what I really wanted.

No such fucking luck.

I breathed deep and exhaled my thoughts along with the lungful of used-up air. The silence coating the dim, private scening room at Monique’s club in downtown Baltimore soothed me. Even if it turned out the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t for me, I’d at least have gotten to experience a semi-hard dick again.

A click sounded as the door opened, and I kept my head and gaze lowered as I’d been instructed in the class. Awareness crept over my skin like an electrical charge as heels clicked on hardwood. My heartbeat accelerated. The subtle scent of oranges hit my nose as black leather stiletto boots came into my line of sight.

Hot as fuck. I bit back my groan as my cock thickened. I swallowed against sudden nervousness, something I hadn’t experienced since my teenage years.

“Hmm…” she murmured. The boots rounded to my left, disappearing in my periphery. “On your feet, slave.” Her low, husky voice prickled my skin, bringing my dick to full attention.

I rose with as much grace as I could, hands at my sides, erection sticking up close to my navel.

A soft inhale tickled my ears as I straightened completely.

I knew what she saw — what she probably didn’t expect for a man teetering on the brink of the downslope from his prime. Daily yoga, running, and weight training kept my body looking the same as it had at twenty-five.

Something tailed down my backbone and across the top of my ass cheeks, lacking the warmth of skin. Crop? Cane? The urge to know made me want to shift my stance, but I held still.

She rounded to the right and stopped in front of me.

From my height, most of her body came into view even though I kept my head lowered. The black leather of her boots hugged defined calves, stopping just above her knees. A good twelve inches of smooth, pale skin gave way to a tight leather skirt — also black — over flared hips, ending at her tiny waist. She held a crop in her right hand.

My dick actually jumped, bumping my abs.

I glanced up through my lashes, filling my eyes with the corset-cinched tits threatening to spill over the top. The milky-white globes set my mouth to watering.

“You will call me Mistress.”

© Lynn Burke 2018

*****

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/
Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/
Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authorlynnburke
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorlynnburke/

Paisley Smith (@Paisley_Smith) Tells All About Her Lesbian BDSM Series

My current three book series is called Honkytonk Angels. Each novella is a lesbian BDSM story set in one of my favorite towns, Nashville. In my series, record producer, Mallory Hayes (who also happens to a premiere dominatrix at the local ladies only BDSM club, The Beaver Dam) formulates a theory about putting together an all-chick Rockabilly band. It’s been her experience that her best clients are also sexual submissives, so Mallory decides to test her premise by offering positions in her band to those who are willing to be trained by a skilled domme.

Mallory discovers talented songbird, Polly Purefoy, crooning on stage at Tootise’s World Famous Orchid Lounge, and hits her up to join the band. The catch is that she undergo training as a submissive with icy dominatrix, Vivien Blackheart.

When Polly reluctantly agrees, she’s swept into a world of lesbianism and BDSM—perhaps even love.

My past books usually feature one dominant heroine, but other than a couple of fetish novellas I penned for Ellora’s Cave, I’ve never ventured into writing serious BDSM. Okay, okay—light BDSM.

For me BDSM in the context of a sexual relationship between two women is all about the psychological connection. The sex is there, but the mental power play between the heroines is what fuels the plot. I enjoy writing in the submissive’s pov the most because the focus there is on the character’s learning to accept and enjoy play she previously considered taboo.

Both characters ultimately find complete acceptance from the other—but in BDSM books, it’s all about the journey rather than the destination.

 

Here’s an excerpt from the first in the Honkytonk Angels series, Fall to Pieces:

“I will tell you everything you need to know. No need to ask.” Vivien’s tone was completely businesslike. “Step inside. Take off all your clothes. All of them. Then come back out here, kneel on the carpet and wait for me.”

Liquid dampened Polly’s panties. As she crossed the entry to the dressing room, an out-of-control mix of anticipation, dread and excitement fired through her body awakening every nerve ending. Every muscle and tendon. Every inch of her skin.

She glanced into Vivien’s eyes, hoping to find a smidgeon of humor, lust, anything, but that beautiful face was as devoid of emotion as a mannequin. Polly wondered how she could feel so much while Vivien didn’t seem affected in the least.

Once she was inside the dressing area, Vivien released the curtain. It fell with a swoosh. As Polly stepped out of her wedge heels and began to undo the buttons on the front of her high-waisted retro shorts, she listened to the sound of Vivien’s heels as the dominatrix walked toward the door.

A click of metal and the door was locked. The lights dimmed.

This was happening. Really happening.

The interior door closed and Polly realized Vivien had left the entry hall. Polly stepped out of her shorts and hung them on the hook. Though the garment hadn’t covered her legs, she felt exposed without them. She slipped her striped shirt off over her head, hung it alongside the shorts and then reached behind to undo her bra.

Naked.

Completely naked.

She’d thought maybe Vivien would at least let her keep her underwear on, so she’d worn a cute matching set she’d bought at the Bettie Page store. Her nipples grew diamond-hard as soon as she was free of the vintage-inspired bra.

When she pulled down her panties, she realized her pussy was drenched with wetness. Damn! Vivien hadn’t done anything but mindfuck her so far.

Peeping out of the curtain, Polly made sure she was alone before venturing out. All the things she’d agreed she was willing to try filtered through her thoughts. Nipple clamps. Butt plugs. Collars. Restraints. Blindfolds.

She shouldn’t have had that glass of wine before going through the checklist last night.

The foyer was now dark and shadowy. The red glow of a soft spotlight marked the place where she’d been instructed to kneel. Inhaling, Polly went to the spot and sank down on her knees.

A sense of sweet shame filled her at the knowledge she was naked and waiting for Ma’am. Expectant, she watched the door, her mouth dry as cotton, her body humming with desire.

All coherent thought—the normal chatter in her mind—drifted away as this situation transported her to another realm.

A realm where she wanted and needed Vivien to ravage her.

Long minutes passed. Polly ached with erotic hunger, gritting her teeth, willing Vivien to open the door.

Finally, the knob turned and the hinges sang as the door swung open. Polly’s spine straightened. Her heart fluttered. She’d never dreamed she of all people would be so eager to submit.

*****

Fall to PiecesAbout Fall to Pieces:

Rockabilly crooner Polly Purefoy can’t believe her luck when she’s approached by Mallory Hayes, a Nashville record producer, with an invitation to join the Honkytonk Angels. There’s just one problem. Ms. Hayes moonlights as a dominatrix and she’s formulated a theory that submissive band members will make her job easier. Intrigued, Polly agrees to meet sultry Domme Vivien Blackheart.

The pretty songbird obeys Vivien’s illicit commands with a vulnerability that chips away at the seasoned Domme’s icy exterior. But Vivien has been hurt before. And she’s resolved never to let another sub into her heart.

From their first encounter Polly enjoys every decadent punishment Vivien metes out, but the long, lust-filled sessions in Vivien’s dungeon leave Polly wanting more than just spankings from her seductive Mistress. She wants love. And she’ll do anything—anything—to get it.

Inside Scoop: From the moment Vivien orders Polly to take off her panties the two engage in wicked-hot BDSM play.

A Romantica® female/female erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

BUY DIGITAL EBOOK

Ellora’s Cave | Amazon | Amazon UKB&N | ARE

Book 2 – Satin Sheets – is coming soon from Ellora’s Cave!

*****

About Paisley Smith

Paisley Smith is a full time author who can usually be found in front of her computer either writing, chatting, promoting or plotting. It’s a glamorous life…working in one’s pajamas.

She attended college in the Deep South where she obtained a slew of totally useless degrees and developed an unrelenting sense of humor.

http://PaisleySmith.net

https://twitter.com/Paisley_Smith

https://www.facebook.com/paisleylsmith

More Anthology Goodness

Hi all! Just to get you off to a good start for the weekend, I thought I’d let you know about two new publications that just came out. Anthologies, to be precise, containing naughty stories from yours truly.

Dead SexyDead Sexy is a paranormal anthology from Xcite Books. If you want to find out how ghosts can be erotic, check it out, and my story, Unfinished Business. Here’s the blurb:

Twenty stories of paranormal pleasures. Dead Sexy puts the vamp into vampires and the fantasy into femmes fatales. The heroes and heroines of these stories may be cold-blooded but their antics are hot as hell! From gorgeous ghosts and dirty demons to amorous apparitions and phantoms with a fetish, these ghoulish lovers are guaranteed to light up the darkest night.

Grab your copy here.

Virgin AssVirgin Ass is a first-time anal sex anthology from Ravenous Romance. In this anthology I have a pegging story called Why I Love Her, which is written from the male perspective. Here’s the blurb:

Hot on the heels of the best-selling Back Door Lover comes Virgin Ass, a whole new collection of anal sex erotica. But where its predecessor celebrated all things anal in the broadest of terms, Virgin Ass narrows its focus and aims it at first-time tales.

From hot guys hooking up to daring women strapping it on, from wild flings of erotic adventure to tender, poignant tales of erotic romance, Virgin Ass busts cherries left and right- and one heck of taboo as well.

Grab your copy here.

In other news, I’ve completed edits for my upcoming release, A Taste of London, so hopefully I should have a release date soon. Fingers crossed! 🙂 Also, my new lesbian mini-anthology, No Boys Allowed, should be on digital shelves early next week.

Have a great weekend, everyone. I will, I’m off to Hampton Court Palace to play in the maze! 🙂