Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Book Blitz and iPad Mini Giveaway: Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender
Authors: Avery Aster, Cynthia Sax, Emily Ryan-Davis, Evangeline Anderson, Jennifer Leeland, Karen Fenech, Madelynne Ellis, Opal Carew, Portia Da Costa, Ruby Foxx, Saskia Walker, T.J. Michaels
Publication date: April 21st 2015
Genres: Erotica, Romance


On the heels of the wildly popular New York Times and USA Today bestseller, MASTERED, we bring you MASTERED 2, ten more tales of sensual surrender, plus a bonus short story!


These scorching erotic romance books, plus a bonus short story, are all brand-spanking new and never-before-released, until now! One-click this anthology today at a low pre-sale price of only 99 cents. This won’t last long.


Played by the Master by Opal Carew
Jenna’s Punishment by Ruby Foxx
Resistor by Madelynne Ellis
Luscious by T.J. Michaels
Her Secret by Portia Da Costa
His Touch by Karen Fenech
One Night With My Billionaire Master by Cynthia Sax
Mastering the Mistress by Evangeline Anderson
The Buyer by Saskia Walker
XO, Blake by Avery Aster

Played by the Master by Opal Carew

Jacqueline adjusted the straps on her snug black dress, ensuring they hiked up her ample bosom, then stared at herself critically in the large mirror in the elegant hotel lobby ladies’ room.
She was here on a mission and she’d pulled out all the stops.  Low cut black dress that hugged every curve of her body.  Shockingly high stilettos that made her legs look even longer than they were, and accentuated her rounded butt.  She turned in the mirror and glanced at her backside.  Her cheeks flushed at the sight of herself in the short, tight black dress, all her assets blatantly on display, but it was important she succeed and she needed to use everything she had going for her.  She had even pulled her long, chestnut hair up and clipped it neatly behind her head to stop it from obscuring her cleavage.
She turned back to face the mirror, her gaze dropping to the sparkly diamond star pendant grazing the tops of her pushed-up-thrust-forward breasts.  (Her brother had given it to her and it was a constant reminder of how he’d always taken care of her, and believed in her.  He’d told her she’d be a star in whatever she did.)
Three women entered the washroom, chatting.  Jacqueline reapplied her deep red lipstick, then dropped the tube in her evening bag and walked back into the lobby.
The hotel was lavishly elegant.  Crystal chandeliers glittered from the ceiling as she walked along the marble floor, her heels clacking on the surface.  She walked to the concierge desk and opened her small, sequined bag and pulled out a black and red poker chip with the Danner insignia on it.
He glanced at it and nodded.
“Go to room 2403.”
She smiled as she turned and walked to the elevator.  Room 2403 was where she would find Mr. Danner.  Billionaire owner of Danner Industries.  She had to see him and convince him to help her sister.
She’d tried calling his secretary to arrange to see him in his office so she could plead her case, but he was harder to get an appointment with than the president of the United States.  So she’d talked to a friend of hers, who knew that Danner ran a high-stakes poker game once a month.  No one knew where it was until the day, and it was extremely exclusive.  Danner didn’t worry about the details of deciding who could play.  He had staff to check out potentials, but Jacqueline’s friend had an in and had obtained one of the poker chips that would allow her in the door.
Every player had to go with at least two hundred thousand dollars they were prepared to lose, which she didn’t have.  But she didn’t intend to lose.  She smiled as she walked onto the elevator and pushed the button.
Because she intended to cheat.
* * *
Race Danner stared out the window of the luxury hotel room over the lights of the city reflected in the lake below as he poured himself a drink.  The other players were continuing the game behind him, but he’d stopped to take a break.  He sipped the seventy-five year old scotch and sighed.
Even these poker games, that he’d arranged to break up the boredom he’d been suffering from over the past year, had stopped giving him the excitement he was seeking.
Travel, women, extreme sports.  None of it gave him exactly what he was looking for.
He turned back to the game, watching the intensity in the eyes of the card players at the table.
The problem was, he didn’t know exactly what he was looking for.
But he had a feeling he’d know when he saw it.
A knock sounded at the door and Renaldo, one of the hotel serving staff overseeing the game, answered it.  Race heard a young woman’s voice, then the Renaldo opened the door and she walked inside.
His breath held as he stared at her.
The little black dress—and he did mean little—and the fuck-me shoes she wore showcased her stunning body, but he could tell she wasn’t used to wearing such a revealing outfit.  She carried herself with confidence, but he could read people and could sense a hesitation in her.  She glanced around, as if wondering if anyone was gazing at her, but not in a look-at-me way.
Her hair was swept up and held in place by a glittery butterfly clip, which meant it was long.  He liked long hair.  He smiled to himself, deciding that before the night was over, he’d see her hair hanging loose and free.  And he’d ensure he soon get the chance to coil her tresses around his hand and hold tight.
Renaldo was talking to her, and Race knew the man would hustle her out, since she was not one of the people on the invitation list for tonight.
Race would not let her slip through his fingers, however.  He walked toward them.
“Problem, Renaldo?” Race asked.

Jenna’s Punishment by Ruby Foxx

My gaze fell on the forbidden door and curiosity poked at me.  I knew he had a stash of keys in his kitchen drawer and I bet one of them was for the lock on this door.  I bit my lip, toying with the idea of grabbing those keys and looking inside.
What would it hurt?  He’d never have to know.
And I really wanted to know what was inside.
I turned and walked into the kitchen, then grabbed the keys and returned to the hallway.  The third key fit in the lock.
I hesitated, knowing I shouldn’t really do this.
But curiosity won out and I turned the key.  I pushed the door open and peered inside, but it was dark in the room.  Were there no windows?
I reached along the wall, searching for a light switch.  My fingers found it and I flicked on the light.
My eyes widened.  The room was big and at first I couldn’t even comprehend what I was seeing.  I stepped inside.
There was a black leather couch and a big black cupboard on one wall.  There was strange furniture around the room that I didn’t really understand, but many had big steel rings fastened to them, some with leather straps attached, and others with chains.
There were chains on the wall, too, at just the right height for a person.  In the corner, there was a tall, narrow cage.
I walked to the cabinet and opened one of the doors.  Inside, I was shocked to find what looked like floggers, riding crops, and paddles in different shapes and sizes.  I reached out and touched one of the suede floggers with one-inch wide strands.  It was a beautiful shade of purple, and the suede was soft under my fingertips.
“I told you not to come in here.”
I twirled around at the sound of Cade’s voice.  He stood in the doorway looking big and menacing.
“I’m… uh… sorry.”
There was no way to explain away what I’d done.  I had blatantly defied his wishes, and now I’d been caught.
He frowned as he stepped into the room.
“Now you must think I’m some kind of freak.  Or pervert,” he said.
“No, of course not.  I would never think that about you.”
His eyebrow arched.  “Then what do you think?”  He raised his hand and gestured around the room.  “About all of this?”
I turned back to the cupboard and touched the suede flogger again, loving the softness of it.
“I think that it shows you’re adventurous in the bedroom.  That you like to try new, exciting things.”
He closed the door behind him and stepped toward me.  “And what about you, Jenna?  Do you like exciting, adventurous things in the bedroom?”
As he approached, like a panther stalking his prey, my heart raced.
“Well… uh…”  I drew in a breath.  “Sure, I guess so.”
As I glanced around the room at all the strange equipment, however, my stomach fluttered in uncertainty.  But I knew deep inside that I totally trusted Cade.
“You don’t sound too certain.”
“Well, it totally depends on who I’m with.”  Then I smiled seductively.  “With you, for instance, I would be very adventurous.”
He stopped in front of me and placed his hands on my shoulders.
“You know, Jenna.  I told you that you and I wouldn’t happen.  Remember?”
Disappointment flooded through me and I nodded.
“And I told you not to come in this room. Right?”
I nodded again, feeling very sheepish.
“Say ‘yes, sir’ so I know you understand.”
“Yes, sir.”
Then his hand glided along my shoulders and down my arms, sending tremors of awareness through me.
“Since you chose to ignore what I told you, I think there have to be consequences.”
Consequences?  Was he going to fire me?
But the heat in his eyes and the velvety tone of his voice assured me otherwise.
“Like what?”  Then I added, “Sir.”
A slow smile spread across his face.
“I will have to punish you.”

Resistor by Madelynne Ellis

“Let’s go into the party suite.”
It was only a few short steps across the hall. Spook tried the door handle, then ushered her inside. The huge room was all decked out for when the auditorium emptied. Tables and chairs set out around the edges, canapés on the bar, and row upon row of filled crystal glasses waiting to be served.
Spook grabbed a glass off the nearest tray and downed it in one long gulp before reaching for another.
“In need of Dutch courage?” she asked.
“Guess so.” Second drained, he went for a third. “Course it’d help if it was something stronger than pissing sherry.” He slammed the glass back down against the tablecloth, then looked a little sheepish, possibly over how much force he’d used, though equally it could have been over his treatment of her. Perhaps indicative of its quality, the glass remained intact.
“OK!” He paused to drag both hands through the front of his hair, which left the blond strands sticking up. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I —”
“I’ve driven you to drink,” she remarked, casting a glance at the row of empties.
“Demented,” he corrected her. “You’ve driven me demented, as if the band didn’t do that already.”
“Pretty impressive of me, given we haven’t spoken for months.”
He took a deep breath and sighed, but faced her straight on. “I thought about you. A lot. Maybe too much. Definitely too much.”
“Nice things?” she asked. Yes, she was fishing for compliments, but hey, five minutes ago she didn’t think they’d ever be having this conversation.
“Depends on your definition of nice.”
“Naughty,” she replied. “As in things that turned you on, and maybe got you sweating a little, and hard.” She flicked her gaze down to his loins and back.
Spook gave a groan. “I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”
“So, why didn’t you call?”
His hand shot out to seize another drink. Alle curled her fingers around his outstretched arm, making him pause. Slowly, he released the stem of the glass and steadied his gaze upon her face again. “Because this can’t be.”
“Why not? Is there someone else?”
“No — hell, no!” His brow furrowed. “There’s nobody.”
“Then you’re making no sense. What’s wrong with us enjoying some adult fun?” She sought his hand to link their fingers together.
Spook’s frown only deepened at the sight of their palms pressed together so tightly, but, she noticed, he didn’t pull away. “Alle, I can’t be who you want me to be.”
The ludicrousness of the remark surprised a smile out of her. “You are who I want you to be.”
“No.” He freed his fingers from her grip and used them to cover her mouth. ‘I’m not. I know you think you’ve found the person who’ll give you what you’re craving, but I’m not that man. I can’t… I’m sorry.’
‘Did I imagine you tanning my arse?’
‘Am I supposed to believe you’re not interested in doing it again?’
‘Of course not.
“Then what? Why? If you want it and I want it… Spook, we want the same thing, don’t we? Why are you so dead against exploring that?”
He clammed up, lips pursed, deep, ocean-blue eyes downcast as he turned his hand to cup her cheek and chase a tear of frustration that tracked down her face.
“It was good between us, Spook.”
“Yes, it was. Better than good.”
She blinked, trying to clear her eyes, and not crumple into a blubbering heap. She was stronger than that. She didn’t cry, not with four brothers who’d mocked her mercilessly for it. Tears had never got her what she wanted, quite the opposite. At home, her tears were what had marked her as a girl and had stopped her from getting her the same deal as the rest of her siblings. She couldn’t wipe the salt tracks from her skin though, without knocking Spook’s hand out of the way, and no matter what, she wouldn’t break that contact.
“I’m not worth crying over.”
“I’m not crying.”
He caught another tear on his fingertips and brought it to the tip of his tongue. Mesmerized, she watched him taste it, and felt her panties get wet. Sweet mercy! She could see him doing that after he’d pushed her to the limits of her endurance and she was just a breath away from numbness, sunk deep into a sort of sub-space of stretched nerves, surrender, and bliss. Her gasp left her lips gently parted and the remainder of her breath caught in the top of her lungs.
Spook’s gaze fixed upon her breasts, then lifted slowly back to her mouth.
She was going to kiss him.
She didn’t care if he pushed her away.
She was going to kiss him.
Kiss him now.


Luscious by T.J. Michaels

Mac was an alpha to the bone. In her case, alpha didn't mean bitch...well, unless some bitchiness was required at the moment. It was simply her personality and style, and allowed her to successfully run a thriving business in a field dominated by men, and deal with emergencies with ease.
On the flip side of that coin, this man, her husband, brought out the submissive in her like literally no one else could. And when her man crossed his legs and let his vivid green gaze roam boldly from her head to her feet and back again, Mac felt sexy as hell. Blushing, she automatically bowed before him.
"Today, it's you, me and some rope. Do you consent to this, MacKenzie Chalice Daniels-Ivers?"
Oh dear lord, he called her by her whole name! That was typically reserved for when she was in trouble, or when he planned something intense. Butterflies in her gut were a thing of the past as they morphed into pterodactyls. A shiver went through her whole body and settled down between the joints in her knees. A deep breath did nothing to calm her at all. But one thing was for sure--her nerves skipped around from sheer anticipation of some serious delight.
"Well?" he asked.
"Yes, of course I consent."
"Good. Go to your play bag and get all of the red bamboo rope."
How did he know she had that in there? Before she could ask, he said, "I put it in there two nights past in place of that rough jute stuff you had bundled up inside."
One brow winged its way up her forehead as his words truly registered. And then her man gave her one of the most deliciously promising grins she'd seen on his face lately.
She smiled in return, shaking her head at herself, as understanding dawned. Landon had obviously planned this well in advance. Sure she'd seen the rope when she'd inspected her bag not fifteen minutes ago, but she always had some in there just in case. Easy knots for easy play was something she could handle. But all the ins and outs and its intricate uses were Landon's domain. And it was a domain he ruled, completely.
Once she was across the room and standing over her bag, another command came.
"Put your locs up into a bun, high on top of your head. Then remove your clothes and leave them folded neatly where you stand. You may keep those sexy ass panties on that you were sashaying around the house in this morning."
"Sashay?" she gawked.
"Absolutely. And it was a beautiful sight. Have a problem with the word, sashay?" he asked. He lowered his head and watched her through thick coal-black lashes. A smart ass comment was on the edge of her lips when he gave her the look and raised an imperious brow.
Mac blurted, "Nope. No problem at all."

Her Secret by Portia Da Costa

Attending a wedding reception, reunited lovers Susannah and Jamie have decided to spend the night together, and are on their way up to his room in the lift…


Within the blink of an eye, we’re alone in the metal box, going up. It’s just a short ride, and all Jamie does is dust a strangely courtly kiss in my knuckles, looking up at me intently over them. What’s in his mind? What’s he planning? Apart from the obvious.
He’s a strong man. A man confident in his own skin. He wears black and leather. He’s almost the cliché of a dominant master, from what little I’ve gleaned about such things.
His mouth is firm and his eyes control me. My stomach flutters at the idea. But there’s an almost angelic softness to his thick, glossy black hair that brushes his shoulders.
Perhaps he is a Hells Angel after all?
I want to leap forwards and kiss his lips, but the lift door opens, and he leads me out and along the corridor to his room. He doesn’t speak, but his beautiful eyes and his imperious body language say everything. Once in the room, he pulls me into his arms, and I melt towards him, powerless. The strap of my bag slides off my shoulder, and it drops to the carpet. I don’t seem to have the will to pick it up; everything is for Jamie, my total concentration as he cradles my head and brings his mouth down on mine in just the way I wanted in the lift.
It’s as if we never parted, yet somehow he’s gained twelve years of manhood and potency and self-belief. His tongue pushes between my lips immediately, bold and muscular and subduing. The taste of him is champagne and overproof alpha male. The kiss is like an engine turned on inside me. Wanton, I press myself against him, my belly against the considerable hard knot of his denim-clad cock.
‘Very nice,’ he growls against my mouth. ‘Very keen. I like that.’ He nips at my lower lip, his teeth closing in perfectly gauged dominion. ‘Don’t ever hide your desire from me, Suzie. Don’t hold back.’
The kiss begins again, but more so. Much more. Jamie the mature man is far more voracious than the younger Jamie. He knows exactly what he wants and he’s taking it. A little fear grips my heart. What have I got myself into? I’m not sure I can control this situation, but then, why would I want to? If I want to experience the games of BDSM that I know my friends play, willing submission is the key to it. Even if there’s no pain involved, there’s power. His power.

His Touch by Karen Fenech

Nate reached across the table and engulfed her hand with his much larger one. He brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her palm. "I like that you worry about me."
Before Corinne could do more than register his touch, the feel of his lips against her skin, Nate lowered her hand to the table and released her. Before she could panic, she thought. He touched her from time to time but never more than a quick brush of his fingers. He’d been around her enough to know that since Steven, she’d come to fear a man’s touch. To her shame, even Nate’s touch made her feel afraid. Nate who’d never been anything but good to her.
Had her expression given her away? Nate seemed to be studying her now, watching her face for every flicker of movement.
His body tensed and his gaze grew intent on her. "I want to talk about what happened at The Club."
Her hands tightened on the mug and any warmth she’d been feeling evaporated.
"I knew you were back in Blake," Nate said. "Your dad let me know that you were coming."
Corinne couldn’t say it surprised her that her father would tell Nate she was returning to Blake, despite explaining to her dad that she didn’t want to impose on Nate any longer. Her father worried about her and having Nate look in on her and look out for her would give her father some peace of mind.
"I knew you were at The Club tonight," Nate went on. "I hoped you coming back to Blake signaled a fresh start for you. I thought you may find your way to Lazarus’s place and I asked him to call me if you showed up there. When he called me, I went there specifically to see you."
She didn’t know what to make of that.
Nate leaned forward, over the table that lay between them. "I was glad you went there. But I had no intention of letting you play or letting you leave there with anyone." He pinned her with his gaze. "Anyone but me. When you give your submission to a man, I will be that man."

One Night With My Billionaire Master by Cynthia Sax

“You would never hurt me.” I know this in my soul.
“I won’t allow anyone to hurt you,” Logan makes one of his infamous vows, promises he’s been known to bend laws to keep. “You won’t regret your decision.”
We stand in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by people. I see only him, entranced by the emotion in his brown eyes, his passion, his need, and something more, something I don’t dare believe in.
“Was this my decision?” I muse. “Did I have a choice?” Or was this inevitable, our fate, our destiny?
“No, you didn’t have a choice.” Logan’s lips lift into one of his rare smiles. “Dance with me.” This is a command, not a request. He leads me onto the floor. “It’s expected.” He swings me into position, his maneuvering graceful and sure.
It is expected. In the past, he has arrived at events, sought me out for a dance, and then departed immediately after our exchange.
His focus on me means nothing. If I say this statement enough times, I might believe it. I bend my left arm, layering my limb over his. Logan clasps my right hand tightly. Our bodies come together and we move as one.
This isn’t the rigid proper waltz I learned at ballroom dance class. It is rolling and sensuous, like the undulation of muscle under skin. One, two, three. One, two, three. There’s no thinking, no talking, only feeling, reacting. Logan steps forward. I step back. He turns. I follow.
Our hips brush together, my skirt swirling around his black pants. I gaze at his sharp chin, firm lips, feeling delicate, womanly, trusting him to guide me, to keep me safe. 
Logan dips me and I fall back, confident he’ll catch me. “You’re exquisite.” His eyes gleam and he draws me upright, twirls me across the floor. If dancing is a sign of companionship, we’re ideally suited. I’ve never had a partner know me like he does, reading my abilities, fulfilling my wishes.
The music fades and he sweeps me toward the edge of the dance floor. Before the song ends, he’s concealed us in the crowd. “Escort me from the room.” He covers my hand with his. “As you’ve been instructed.”
My gaze darts upward. How does he know I’ve been given that order? “I can’t climb into the limousine with you,” I murmur, aware that we’re being watched. “People will gossip.”
“People already gossip.” Logan leans into me. “They see how we dance, speculate that we fuck as passionately.” His crudeness stimulates, rather than shocks me. “They suspect your sweet pussy is filled with my cum, that my love bites decorate the curve of your ass and my scent is on your skin,” he breathes into my hair and I warm, all over. “Everyone here knows you’re mine.”
I stare at him, my thoughts obliterated by his words.
“Looking at me with your fuck-me face won’t stop the gossip.” He chuckles softly.

Mastering the Mistress by Evangeline Anderson

Lyra reached around him and pushed the up indicator. Apparently the “dungeon” they were taking him to was on the top floor. As Solar stepped inside the mirrored walls of the elevator, he caught a glimpse of himself in the glass. He was a sorry sight indeed, arms bound behind his back, the spiked pain collar choking his throat, and the tight black leather trousers constricting his shaft.
Behind him, he could see the small, steely eyes of Lyra, still holding the remote on him like a gun. Behind her, Kaylee entered the elevator last. She was nibbling her lush lower lip and there was a look of uncertainty on her pretty face. Solar stared at her and she looked up, meeting his gaze in the mirror. Their gazes locked and for a long, breathless moment they looked into each other’s eyes.
She’s beautiful, Solar admitted to himself reluctantly. In fact, under different circumstances, he might have asked to buy her a drink. Unfortunately, they weren’t exactly standing side by side at the friendly neighborhood space port bar. He was currently her property—bound and collared and subject to her every whim. It kind of put a damper on a male’s mood.
Which didn’t explain why his shaft was stirring in his trousers. Suddenly he remembered the sight of her plump little pussy, just inches from his face and the warm, feminine scent which had teased his nose when his head had gotten trapped under her ridiculously short skirt. He wouldn’t mind playing sexual games with this little female—not a bit. If games were all they were. But being tied up and sold as a slave was no game or joke. And Kaylee wasn’t the only one he had to worry about. There was also Lyra to contend with.
He continued to stare into Kaylee’s eyes in the mirror. Her lips were slightly parted and her cheeks were flushed. Solar expected her to drop her gaze and end the intense staring contest at any moment but she seemed frozen—an animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming craft. He narrowed his own eyes and licked his lips slowly—the implication was clear. I’m going to eat you up, little female. The minute I get free of these damn collar and cuffs you’re in trouble!
He wanted to discomfort her and put her off her guard and it worked. Kaylee’s eyes widened and she took a step back, her rounded posterior bumping against the mirrored wall of the elevator just as it emitted a soft chime and came to a halt.

                                                              * * * * * * * *

Kaylee wished her new slave wouldn’t keep staring at her that way. And was he actually growling? She couldn’t help remembering the way their eyes had locked in the elevator and the implied threat in his green and gold gaze. Goddess, the way he looked at her was so intense. It seemed to promise she would get back everything she and Lyra were dishing out with interest if only he could get free. The thought made Kaylee shudder and not just because she dreaded his intended retribution.
For some reason the way her new slave stared at her reminded her of the stash of illicit porn vids she’d found in the back of one of Aunt J’s closets. Vids of males dominating females instead of the other way around, the way nature intended. There were even some of males penetrating females with their shafts—an unheard of taboo. It made her wonder if Aunt J had been some kind of a sexual pervert. Or maybe she was just willing to try anything at least once. That seemed more in keeping with her dare-devil character.
Though she was shocked and dismayed by the illicit images, Kaylee hadn’t been able to stop watching them. They made her think of stories she’d heard of the Kindred—the race of males who were genetic traders and traveled the universe in search of females to bond with. Of course, her new slave was a Havoc, not a Kindred but still… The disturbing scenes gave her a strange, throbbing, tingling feeling between her legs which she had never felt when viewing other, more standard pornographic material with females dominating males…
Her new slave’s deep growl was becoming more menacing. It jerked her out of her illicit memories and made her blush when she realized he was giving her that intense stare again.
Stop it—stop thinking about it when you’re so close to him, she told herself as she fastened the cuffs around his wrists with trembling fingers. What if Havoc males can read thoughts somehow? She’d heard it said that their genetic cousins, the Kindred, formed a telepathic bond with the females they mated. Could it be that the Havoc had a similar talent? Kaylee didn’t want to find out.

The Buyer by Saskia Walker

As soon as the door to his apartment clicked shut Lucas closed on her, pinning her up against the wall in the hallway, caging her there with his body.
Naomi trembled. She wanted him, but he'd flagged up some pretty intense sexual preferences, and she was flying blind on that score. Apart from some playful spanking she'd never played with a real Dom before. Everything he'd said had intrigued her and turned her on, big time, but she was stepping into the unknown.
Then he locked his hand around the back of her neck, his fingers moving beneath her hair, and ducked his head, kissing her hungrily.
The kiss, at last. She'd been thinking about it all evening, wanting it and imagining it. His mouth on hers melted her doubts away, instinct taking over.
She let go her bag and it fell to the floor. Her hands locked around his head as responded to him.  With his free hand he hitched up her skirt, cupping her bottom in his hands, pushing aside her lacey underwear so that he could touch her skin. She gasped at his forthright touch and her head fell back against the wall. When she did, he ducked his head to kiss her throat. His teeth grazed her throat.
"I want you so much," she murmured. She felt delirious as she said it.  "Lucas, please... I really want this, but I'm a little afraid."
He drew back, pausing. "Don't be. I'm here to look after you."
She clung to him, swallowed, then nodded. There was no turning back. After she'd given way to her doubts and agreed to go home with him, she had to know what it would be like to have sex with a man like Lucas.
He looked like a big cat assessing its prey. "Tell me why you are here," he said.
"I'm here because you made me want to know what it would be like, to be alone with you."
He nodded. "Show me how much you wanted that."
Naomi's pulse raced. She wasn't sure what he meant by that.
"Strip," he added, with a quick nod at her clothing.
The command fell from his lips so easily, as if he was asking her to take a seat. But the effect it had on her was devastating. Can I do this?
It's what she'd come there for, to get intimate with him, and he was taking control of her, as promised, but she hadn’t expected that simple but stunning one-word instruction.
The answer was that she couldn’t walk away – she couldn't not do it.

XO, Blake by Avery Aster
His muscular arms came wide. He peeled off his cotton tank, revealing his gorgeous chest. Perfectly sculpted. His nipples, like two blackberries, stared back at me, persuading to be tasted, sucked, and played with.
“Lick my pecs, guapo,” he panted, grabbing on to my face, pulling my lips onto his flesh. “They’re sensitive. My nips go straight to my dick. You touch them and I get hard. Sí.
Such knowledge could be perilous. He struck a vibrant chord in me…
I stuck my tongue out a bit and licked, once, twice. My teeth caught on the edge of his right nipple as I gave it a slight tug. His tormented groan was a heady invitation to keep going. And so I grazed my tongue across his smooth chest and continued the licking, biting playfully on his other pec. His body shivered in my arms. I liked how vulnerable he was becoming. There was something alluring about the man, being so muscular and masculine, and yet willing to let me have my way with him. 
I had no power over all the crazy shit going on in my life. But in Diego’s bed, I had a sense of control. I needed that. If only for one night. It felt new and different to me, and I intended to enjoy every minute.
He pulled my shirt up. Holding onto his shoulders, I stood. With a projected energy and power which attracted me to him, he yanked my pants and then my underwear down.
Being naked in front of him, I didn’t feel as vulnerable as I thought I would. If anything, my excitement only continued to climb.
And then he…stroked…my dick.
Guapo, you like that?” he murmured, fisting his hands over my erection.
“Ah-huh,” I replied in a husky whisper.
Hard, my shaft thickened in his hands. The way he manhandled me felt hot, too. His palms were callus and rough but with my dick, he was almost gentle. He rubbed the bare skin, admiring the mushroom head of my penis. 
Raw. Sensitive.
Staring up at me, his chest rose as he moaned, “I’m going to get your cock nice and wet. Then you’re going…to tie me up.”
“Start sucking, papi,” I said in a throaty voice and lost myself in his mouth. Getting more turned on by the second as he gave me oral pleasure, becoming sensitive to his every touch, my nipples tightened.
I didn’t know who I was or what the frick I was doing. It was as if I was having an out-of-body experience. I was no longer Blake Morgan III, Fairfield native, Avon Porter graduate, and Columbia University student.
I was guapo, the raging dominant and soon-to-be top aficionado of all things ass.
Tugging at my balls, his head jerked back and forth. Getting into a rhythm, he rotated his attention from the tip of my dick to my shaft.
Waves of pleasure throbbed through me. The warmth of his hot flesh was amazing.
He reached for the rope from the nightstand and instructed in sweet agony, “Tie me up.” And spread out on his back.

Climbing on top of him, I placed his hands near the headrest. Taking his right hand in mine, I recalled my good ‘ol Boy Scout days of knots and wrapped the blue rope once, twice, around his wrist. Then I pulled his arm up a bit. 



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