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
Synopsis:
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!
“11 AMAZING NEW EROTIC ROMANCE STORIES YOU’VE NEVER READ!”
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.
INDEX:
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?’
‘No.’
‘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.
No!
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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This set looks amazing! I can't wait to read it.
ReplyDeleteFabulous thank you. Great reading ahead.
ReplyDelete