New Release: Smut by the Sea Volume 2, edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse

Hurrah! I’m delighted to announce that Smut by the Sea Volume 2, edited by myself and Victoria Blisse, is now available. Here’s the skinny:

Light hearted, sexy fun by the sea is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the sun soaked beaches of Brazil to the altogether cooler coastal towns of England, Smut by the Sea Volume 2 has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Amusement arcades, beach houses, mermaids, honeymooners, shipwrecks, sex toys and more abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Contains stories from Victoria Blisse, Tilly Hunter, Rachel Randall, Giselle Renarde, Tamsin Flowers, Lucy Felthouse, Kate Britton, Jillian Boyd, Bel Anderson, Cass Peterson, Delyth Angharad, T C Mill, Erzabet Bishop, Tenille Brown and Annabeth Leong.

And here’s an excerpt from my story, On the Big Wheel:

Brigit loved the seaside. She always had, probably because visiting it was a rarity. Living in the centre of England meant that even the nearest seaside town was over an hour and a half away—and the nice resorts even further.

Which was why her boyfriend, Allen, proposed a long weekend in Brighton. He knew how fond she was of the seaside. Unsurprisingly, she agreed delightedly.

“It’s a long way,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. We’d never go anywhere if we lamented the length of the journey.”

As it happened, the travelling wasn’t too bad. Miraculously the M1 was clear all the way down to the M25—and even that notorious motorway wasn’t experiencing its usual havoc. A straight shot south on the M23, then the A23 took them towards Brighton, and they navigated the one-way systems and lack of road signs and—eventually—found their hotel.

“Wow,” Brigit said, stretching luxuriously after getting out of the car, “that didn’t take as long as I thought. Shall we check in, dump our bags and go and explore?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Allen replied with a grin.

They slammed their respective car doors, grabbed the bags from the boot and headed into the hotel. Fifteen minutes later, after using the toilet and freshening up, they were back outside.

“Nice choice of hotel, babe. I like it.” Brigit said.

“I’m glad. I researched it well,” Allen replied.

“The bed looks nice and comfy.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be able to give it a decent road test later.” He winked at her, and got a slap on the arm for his trouble.

“You’ve got a one-track mind, you have.”

“Well, what do you expect when I’ve got a girlfriend that looks like you?”

She giggled. “Charmer.”

“That’s me. Okay, now I’m back in good books,” Allen said, “what do you want to do? Now, I mean. Not at bedtime.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Brigit stuck her tongue out at him before replying. “I dunno. Just look around I guess. Get our bearings. See what there is to do around here.”

They walked hand-in-hand towards the seafront, then along it in the direction of the pier. They passed the burnt out shell of the West Pier, and Brigit wondered aloud whether it would ever be rebuilt or demolished. Or would the blackened skeleton be left there forevermore, a reminder of what once was.

Soon, they drew close to Brighton Pier. Brigit turned to Allen with a grin.

“What?” he said, then followed her almost manic gaze down the length of the pier, towards a building with fake turret-type things and some very real flags. He sighed. He couldn’t be sure from here, but he thought it was bound to be the amusement arcade. “Oh, you want to go in there, do you? I wonder why?” His voice was laden with sarcasm in his last sentence.

“You know damn well why. Come on!” Brigit tugged him along the last few metres of the pavement and onto the wooden slats of the pier. “Ooh, we can have fish and chips when we come out, if you want.”

Here’s more info and the buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-by-the-sea-volume-2/

New Release: Gypsy Witch by Suz deMello

The Sacramento Sheriff’s Department is no place for airy-fairy wimps, and Ben McCullough is the toughest of the tough. He tells himself he’s bedding the luscious Elena Lautari only because she’s a babe, not because she’s a card-carrying member of the Northern California Church of Wicca. Ben thinks she’s a feather away from an arrest for fraud, since she makes a living telling fortunes and making charms for the lovelorn. He can’t see her as a lifelong mate even though she’s more than a match for him in the sack, and losing her is unthinkable.

But Elena is the real deal, a modern witch of much power and even more restraint. When her daughter, Gina, steals her mother’s spell book and uses it to shatter the fabric of existence and release an ancient evil, Elena must put reality back in place—even if she loses Ben in the process. Will Ben and Elena’s fragile love be lost with the revelation of her magic?

Maybe, but there are others ready to heal her battered heart. When Ben’s partner attempts to claim Elena, will Ben move aside or move in?

 

If you like what you read, click below to buy the story and check out the rest of Suzie’s sexy books:

https://www.ellorascave.com/author/suz-demello

*****

Author Bio:

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, and Liquid Silver Books. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com

For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com

Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift

She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun

Her current blog is http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com

New Release: Beast in Me – Book 2 of the Divination Falls Trilogy by Sommer Marsden

Blurb:

Weather worker Cameron Bale rolls into Divination Falls after being prompted by Spirit and Brother Lighting. He discovers that the small, hidden town full of shifters and magical types is suffering a series of unsettling events. There’s speculation from the town seers that he could be the answer they’ve been looking for. Cameron’s willing to try and help: he’s got nowhere to go and nothing to lose. His life is simply about loneliness and it turns out that Trace, a grumpy wolf with stunning eyes, knows just what that feels like. Cam finds himself wishing maybe they could be alone … together. Oh yeah, and battle whatever evil it is that still lurks in Divination Falls.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

*****

Excerpt:

A dragonfly zipped past and Cam watched it go. What next? Bluebirds and butterflies and singing cartoon woodland animals? It was all too nice, too perfect … Surreal.

‘You OK?’ The voice was deep and dark and full of secrets. That was his first impression.

Cameron jumped, clutched at his pounding chest. Inside his heart was going berserk and he felt a little lightheaded with it.

‘I was. Jesus Christ, you scared me.’

Trace grinned with half his mouth. Somehow that little smirk made Cameron think of the big bad wolf. Made him flash back to that body sprawled, lean and powerful, over a small, lumpy bed. Made him remember one of those huge hands on a powerful, hard cock. He licked his lips.

‘Careful, lightning rider. I can smell your emotions.’ Then the wolf chuckled, bending to tie his work boot.

‘I – I’m sorry I spied on you.’ It was all Cameron could think to say.

Trace shrugged. Cameron watched his big shoulders flex with power. He was stunning with his huge body, big, fat attitude, and purple eyes. Just being so close to him made Cameron feel slow-witted and thick-tongued.

‘It was the most excitement I’ve had in ages,’ the wolf said and started to walk.

Cameron watched him go off, his heart sinking. He wanted the man to take his apology seriously. He also admitted to himself he wanted to be close to the wolf. There was no hope of anything happening between them. There was very little hope of anything happening for Cam with anyone. He’d come to terms with that long ago. But still, he could just be near Trace. Remembering the sight of his body and the sound of his voice just outside Cam’s barricaded bedroom door as he brought himself off.

Wolf at the door, he thought, and then shook it off.

Fifty feet away, Trace stopped, and Cameron felt his spine go rigid, his pulse pick up. The man turned to him and shielded his eyes from a bright beam of sunlight between the thick tree branches. ‘You gonna stand there all day admiring my ass, or are you coming?’

Cameron blinked, feeling a wild urge to laugh but pushing it away. ‘Yes! Right!’ he called, bouncing on his toes like one of those perky, hyper dogs. He blushed, but refused to let himself feel silly or embarrassed. He very much wanted to go along.

He hurried along the path until he was almost even with the wolf. Then Trace turned and continued to walk, Cameron right on his heels.

‘Why are you here?’ Trace asked.

The question stunned Cameron but he swallowed hard and tried to focus enough to answer. ‘Good question. I … work with weather. Lightning to be specific. I guess the best way to put it is I was nudged here.’

‘Like with voltage?’ Trace asked with a gruff laugh.

‘Yeah. Sadly, I do get nudged with voltage.’

The wolf turned those deep purple eyes on Cameron and said, ‘What for? What’s here?’

How did eyes get that colour? Cam wondered. Had he been born with them or was it a shifter thing? He had no idea; all he knew was they were the most amazing eyes he’d ever seen. And they were attached to one of the most amazing bodies he’d ever seen.

Trace cocked his head, giving a half grin. ‘Hello?’

‘Sorry! I was just looking –’ He flushed, caught in the act. ‘Your eyes, they’re amazing.’

That closed the bigger man down. He’d had a nice amused and open expression on his handsome face and that fast, it shut down like someone turning the lights off in an empty house. ‘Thanks. I guess. They’re the product of a very bad infection when I was a kid.’ He turned on his heels and kept walking without further explanation.

Cameron had to force himself to swallow. He had just complimented the first man he’d lusted after in goodness knew how many years on some sort of mutation? Something that clearly upset him when discussed. Good going, dumbass!

Cameron hurried along the patch, ducking reaching branches and praying there was no poison ivy to be found here in Divination Falls. ‘I’m sorry! I didn’t know. And I don’t know what’s here. Or why I am,’ he gasped, finally catching up.

The wolf shrugged. He shot Cameron a sideways glance and said, ‘Why would you know what’s here?’ He stopped fast and Cam found himself almost crying out from the sudden shift in motion. ‘As for why you’re here, how could you not know that?’

‘I never really know until it’s revealed,’ Cameron said. He kept his gaze pinned at Trace’s chin so he wouldn’t get mesmerized by those stunning eyes that clearly upset the custodian.

‘Was it me, maybe?’ Trace asked, his lips twisting into a grin. ‘Was it secretly watching me jack off? Was that your big mission?’ He took a step toward Cameron which forced the lightning rider to step back. Or get crushed against an angry wolf.

‘I’m sorry,’ Cam breathed. ‘It wasn’t my intention and then I couldn’t …’ He shook his head. His skin was tingling and he wondered if he was going to get struck. Or worse yet, if Trace would strike him. ‘You might want to step back,’ he said without thinking.

‘Why is that?’ the wolf asked, taking a step forward. ‘Am I invading your space?’

‘I get it,’ Cam stammered. ‘I invaded your privacy. I’m no better than a pervert. I know! But you could get …’

The wind kicked up. It often did when he was frightened or excited and his blood leapt in his veins and his heart beat fast with arousal. His last lover had been zinged by energy one too many times and when some of his hair had actually caught fire, he’d bailed. Calling Cameron a freak in the process. Cam wasn’t up for either Trace being hurt or thinking him a freak.

‘I might get what? And it’s OK – you invaded my privacy, now give me an excuse to invade yours.’ He pushed his face closer and Cameron caught a flickering of animal shine in the man’s eyes. They turned golden around the very iris and a fast, steady pulse beat at the base of Trace’s neck. When he took Cameron’s wrist in his big hand and squeezed, Cam felt the air rush out of him. His cock pressed eagerly to his jeans and he tried his best to focus on something – anything! – besides the wolf so maybe his hard-on would abate. No such luck because Trace took his warm hand and very briefly cupped the evidence of arousal in Cam’s pants. ‘Looks like you’re still a bit worked up from last night.’

‘You were watching me in wolf form.’

‘I was.’

‘You heard me.’ It wasn’t a question. Very briefly, Cam wished for Trace to put his hand back. To touch him.

‘I did. I also smelled you and tasted you on the wind. Do you know when you come your breath does this shuddery little sigh thing?’

‘No.’

‘Well, it does.’

*****

Bio:

Sommer Marsden’s been called “…one of the top storytellers in the erotica genre” (Violet Blue), “Unapologetic” (Alison Tyler), “…the whirling dervish of erotica” (Craig J. Sorensen),and “Erotica royalty…” (Lucy Felthouse).

Her erotic novels include Restless Spirit, Boys Next Door, Big Bad, Learning to Drown, Wanderlust and the Zombie Exterminator series. Sommer currently writes erotica and erotic romance for Xcite Books, eXcessica, Ellora’s Cave, Pretty Things Press, Resplendence Publishing and Mischief Books. The wine-swigging, dachshund-owning, wannabe runner author writes work that runs the gamut from bondage to zombies to humor.

Sommer’s short works can be found in well over one hundred (and counting) erotic anthologies. Her short stories have also been included numerous adult and romance magazines–both in print and online.

Links:
Blog: http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com
Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/sommer_marsden
Facebook: http://facebook.com/sommermarsden
Twitter: @sommer_marsden
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/sommermarsden

New Release: The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu

THE PHALLUS OF OSIRIS

VALENTINA CILESCU

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Kobobooks.com

Death and Lust and Vampires!

The Master is a sex vampire. His aim: to dominate through the glories of the flesh. His minions are beautiful and lascivious and their eager bodies and warped minds are bent to his evil purpose. The lost Phallus of Osiris is the greatest erotic talisman known to man and the Master will not rest until he has it in his possession. Just one woman can help him fulfil his dark ambitions – the one person who still resists him. Mara, the white witch. Great though the Master’s power is – in Mara, and The Phallus of Osiris, he may have met his match.

*****

Excerpt:

It was dark in the room. Dark and strangely airless. But Mara felt no fear. She stretched out her hand and touched her unseen lover’s hand. Although she could not see him, she knew he was standing by the side of the bed; that he was naked, and ready for her . . .

‘Come to me . . .’ breathed Mara. And her fingers moved from her lover’s hand to explore his body – running down his flank, his thigh; searching eagerly for the warm weight of his testicles; seeking out his most sensitive and intimate places to tease and excite his flesh; and bring him to her.

She heard his breathing: hoarse and quickening now. And seconds later, she felt him sit down on the bed beside her, felt the soft coverings yield to his weight as he lay down by her side and pressed his hot nakedness up against her willing flesh.

He was by her side now, stroking her with knowing fingers that seemed to read her mind, divine her every dream and wish. His fingers slid down her body, as though taking the measure of her, mapping out the fullest extent of the bounty offered to them. They fluttered like butterfly wings, up from the firm roundness of her hips to the taut flesh of her tiny waist, and then up still further; until at last they found the swelling amplitude of her magnificent breasts, caressing their firmness appreciatively.

He was kneeling beside her: leaning over her, the better to toy with her. Mara gasped with pleasure as invisible hands cupped her breasts and kneaded their warm and yielding flesh. Skilled fingers searched out the budding hardness of her nipples and pinched them between finger and thumb, just hard enough to provoke an irresistible blend of pain and pleasure.

‘Take me!’ gasped Mara, reaching up and touching the hands which were so knowingly exploring her body. They were strong hands, hands she felt she knew well; hands that were strong and sinewy and capable of great violence – and yet gentle enough to tease, torment, arouse.

Strong, sinewy wrists and forearms . . . She could reach no further; so she stretched out her hand to the side, and felt for the body of her unseen lover. Her hand made contact with his thigh, muscular and covered with thick, coarse hair. She slid her hand upwards, upwards, letting her fingers glide softly over the hairs; and she felt her lover tremble at the exquisite torment of her touch. Bolder now, she let her hand move higher still, and shivered with delight as her fingers brushed against her lover’s testicles.

They were heavy, vital, pulsating with a raw energy that communicated itself to her as she stroked their velvety pouch, weighing them in her palm. Then she let her fingers stray still further, and felt them slide deliriously along the smooth length of a hard and throbbing shaft that she knew yearned to bury itself in her.

And as she stroked it, she felt herself grow hotter and wetter, her juices welling up as though from some secret spring deep within her. It was as though she was melting from the inside outwards, as butter might melt in anticipation of the hot knife that would soon plough into its soft and willing depths . . .

The room was filled now with the fragrance of sex; the sweet, heady aroma of a cunt well greased, of a prick whose tip glistens with the first drops of semen, the first promise of the torrents to come. Mara slid her hand along her lover’s shaft and ran her fingertips gently over its tip: it was already slippery with love-juice and she shivered again with the delicious anticipation of its entry into her most intimate places.

*****

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:

• The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford
• Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger
• The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu
• Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu
• The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell
• The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell
• Hogg by Samuel R. Delany
• The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany
• Sad Sister by Florence Dugas
• The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés
• Dark Ride by Kent Harrington
• 3 by Julie Hilden
• Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis
• Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg
• Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg
• The Agency by David Meltzer
• Burn by Michael Perkins
• Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
• Evil Companions by Michael Perkins
• Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl
• Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald

New Release: Smut Alfresco edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse

I’m delighted to announce the release of Smut Alfresco, edited by yours truly and Victoria Blisse. It contains my story, Being Free.

Sex in the great outdoors is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the dramatic gritstone escarpments of Derbyshire’s Peak District, to a quiet caravan site in deepest Wales, Smut Alfresco has it all. Whatever your interpretation of frisky outdoor fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you.

Sexy woodsmen, daring couples, rock stars, cougars, map enthusiasts, mattresses, ex-lovers, tour guides, hunky sheriffs and nature reserve rangers all appear in this hot collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Includes stories from: Violet Fields, Demelza Hart, Victoria Blisse, Jacqueline Brocker, Wendi Zwaduk, K T Red, Tilly Hunter, Bel Anderson, Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Tenille Brown, Cass Peterson, Jenny Lyn and Nicole Gestalt.

More info and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-alfresco/

Excerpt:

Violet slammed down the lid of her laptop with far more force than was necessary. She flinched, thinking perhaps she might have cracked the screen or broken one of the machine’s internal components. Then she shrugged, realising she didn’t care if she had. It was her work’s computer, after all, not hers. If it was fucked, they’d have to replace it. And it would serve them right, too. Bastards.

The reason she was pissed off was the fact she was in work at all. It was Saturday, and the previous afternoon her useless boss had dumped a project on her, stating it had to be finished by Monday, no matter how long it took. He’d then added that he was going away for the weekend, meaning it was all down to her. The selfish, disorganised wanker. It wouldn’t be so bad, but she hadn’t had a pay rise for two years, and when she went above and beyond for her job, she didn’t get so much as a thank you, let alone be paid any overtime. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, either.

Well, fuck them. She wasn’t going to be a doormat—or her boss’ scapegoat—any more. Let them try and sack her—she wasn’t doing anything remotely wrong, and they couldn’t make her working life any more hellish than it already was.

She stood up sharply, sending her swivel chair careening backwards across the room until it hit the wall. She shrugged again, she still didn’t care. Let it chip the fucking paintwork, or a bust a hole in the plasterboard. No one else was there, so nobody could prove or disprove that it had been an accident.

Pausing to switch the lights off—she was pissed off at her employers, not the environment—she left the offices, setting the alarm before closing the door behind her. Stuffing her access swipe card into her handbag, she heaved a sigh of relief. There would probably be hell to pay for her stunt on Monday, but she’d worry about that then. Right now, she was just desperate to get out. Into the countryside, or, given she was in central London, to a green space, at the very least.

From where she worked, Green Park was probably the closest, but she figured Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens were bigger, so she’d be more likely to find a secluded spot where she could just be by herself. The last thing she needed now was to have to deal with other people.

New Release: Tangled & Bound By Emily Ryan-Davis

TANGLED & BOUND

EMILY RYAN-DAVIS

Available from:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
BN
All Romance Ebooks
Kobo
Ellora’s Cave

A Taken in Bondage Erotic Romance

Friendly, adventurous, sexually submissive…and a complete stranger. She’s exactly the anonymous, no-consequences diversion fetish-club owner Sam needs to kick off a few days in Las Vegas. He doesn’t hesitate to take her up against the door of the in-flight bathroom.

Powerful, dominant Sam could have walked straight out of one of Melanie’s dog-eared BDSM novels. When he strikes up a conversation on a late-evening flight, fictional fantasies become knee-weakening, panty-soaking, feminine-core-clenching reality. And oh-em-gee, does she want another taste of that!

When Sam informs her that his plans don’t include a long-term D/s relationship with an impulsive young blonde for whom submission is more than likely a passing whim, Melanie throws herself into convincing him she’s exactly the submissive lover he wants, needs and can’t live without.

*****

Excerpt:

Chapter One

August

Halfway into her non-stop flight from New York to Las Vegas, Melanie Burke started to squirm.  Her restlessness had nothing to do with her tiny middle-of-the-row seat and everything to do with the muscular, denim-clad thigh touching her bare leg.

The thigh belonged to a man she’d noticed hours earlier while waiting to board. In a sea of people wearing jeans and t-shirts, he’d stood out, and not because of his scuffed cowboy boots and oversized belt buckle. Well, not only because of those. While the whole Texas horse wrangler look was out of place in LaGuardia, he certainly wasn’t the only man doing the Western thing. He was the only one doing it well, though.

The nice ass and hand-tooled boots weren’t what had her snapping a surreptitious pic and forwarding it to her BFF, Brooke, who was a self-proclaimed expert in all things BDSM. Something else was.

Something about him declared, “I’m in charge”. Ever since she’d gotten wet while reading a BDSM-themed novel earlier in the year, Melanie had become a sneaky people-watcher, looking for the whole “in charge” vibe Dominant men apparently put off. When she’d despaired ever finding her Dom, Brooke had advised her to chill and wait. According to Brooke, Melanie would just know. She was on the verge of giving up and going back to her normal sex routine of grad students and bar crawlers, but then she saw him.

During boarding call, she’d covertly watched the way he stood apart from the crowd even while standing in the middle of it. Her attraction to him was inexplicable. The cowboy look really wasn’t to her taste. She went for guys with more of a GQ look. He didn’t exude sophisticated power like the heroes of her dog-eared novels, either, but he did take her breath away. Some part of her she was just discovering wanted to kneel at his feet and gaze up into his eyes from below.

When she reached her assigned seat on the plane, she was both startled and thrilled by the coincidence that booked him in the seat next to hers. Now, as she turned the page of her book, a “mommy porn” title on every national bestseller list, she snuck a peek at her in-flight neighbor’s face.

Pale, grass-green eyes met hers. Caught in the act of looking, startled by the fact she’d caught him in the act, too, she quickly shifted her focus back to the book spread across her fold-down tray.

“Good book?” Her neighbor’s voice wrapped around her, warm in the too-cold cabin. She pressed her thighs together as her simmering arousal cranked up a notch.

“Most of the world seems to like it.” She glanced up to find him still watching her. This time she was prepared for the intensity of his examination and managed to maintain eye contact. She even did a little looking of her own, mostly in the form of a closer inspection of his dark-blond evening stubble and full lips. Those lips quirked while she studied them. They would be fantastic between her legs.

As if he had access to her little fantasy, his smile widened.

“I’m not interested in most of the world. Do you like it?” He reached over, closed the book, and turned it so the front cover showed. “Who would’ve thought a simple neck tie would become so iconic?”

“It’s a very striking cover,” Melanie agreed. But totally disinteresting to her now. As far as visuals went, he had all her attention. His shoulders dominated the narrow seat. She seriously wanted to climb astride his lap and put her hands on him. Maybe rub up against that big belt buckle. And she wanted to beg him to keep talking. The Midwest meets New York accent was weirdly fascinating.

“The question still remains whether you’re enjoying the read.”

“It’s crazy popular–“

“Yes or no?” He interrupted.

Heat flashed through her. Blinking rapidly at her body’s response to his demanding inquiry, she managed to say, “I’m not sure.”

“There’s a simple way to tell.” He leaned close and spoke directly into her ear. “If you’re wet right now, you’re enjoying the book. “

The powerful confidence of his voice stirred something low in her abdomen. She was wet before his lips brushed her ear. Now she felt soaked.

“Answer me, honey.” He touched her chin and tilted her head at a slight angle. Callused fingertips settled on a spot just below her jaw. “Your heart’s racing, but I don’t think you’re scared. I think that book has you so hot, you’re dying to slip your hand into your panties.”

*****

More Information:

Other Taken in Bondage Series Titles Available Now

Tied & Twisted

Naked & Unleashed

Want more like this? Join Emily Ryan-Davis’s newsletter today for access to subscriber exclusives, contests, new release news and more. To subscribe, go to http://www.emilyryandavis.com and click the “Contact” tab.

New Release: Identity Crisis by Grace Marshall

Reclusive romance novelist Tess Delaney is the alter ego of Garrett Thorne, bad-boy brother of business tycoon Ellison Thorne. When Tess is nominated for the Golden Kiss Award, Garrett recruits PR specialist, Kendra Davis, to keep his secret and be Tess for the awards despite their mutual animosity. But when Tess is stalked by a rabid fan, an identity crisis is eclipsed by a battle for survival, and Tess Delaney, the woman who doesn’t exist, just might understand Kendra and Garrett’s hearts even better than they do.

Available from:
Xcite Books
Amazon UK
Amazon US

Other links will be added here as they become available: http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/books/identity-crisis/

*****

Excerpt:

Garrett felt like a naughty teenager as they sneaked out the back door, through the gate of the privacy fence and down the alley. He wore a shapeless track suit with the black hoodie pulled up over his head and a scruffy pair of Converse sneakers that weren’t exactly meant for dancing. And Kendra, well she hardly looked ratty, in his opinion. She wore low rider jeans, and where they weren’t hugging her body like a second skin, they were full of threadbare, flesh revealing holes. The black sweat top she wore was cut short enough to show a tantalizing flash of her navel and hips bones when she moved just right. It slid off one shoulder to reveal the thin lacy strap of a red bra. She wore all of her russet locks tucked up under a leather beret. Her fashion statement was topped off with black ankle boots. She looked very, very dangerous. And hot. Of course she didn’t need to dress the part for either, he thought. He was already certain on both counts.

‘You live a little closer to The Boiling Point than Dee does.’ She took his hand and nodded to where the alley T’ed with the street, and then gave way to the park on the other side. ‘She never goes there, of course. Well she did once, but that was just for Harris, then he hated it.’ She giggled. ‘God I wish I could have been there for that.’

‘Am I going to hate it?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘Probably not. You’re much more of a bad boy than Harris is, or is that all an act?’

The long line of shiny chrome Harleys out front of the squat cinder block building gave Garrett the first clue that this was not Dancing with the Stars. Kendra waved them away absently. ‘The Boiling Point’s not really a biker bar, but it’s kind of the warm-up act, I suppose you could say. Lots of bikers start off here before they head on to their usual haunts. Makes for an exciting mix. Later in the night there are almost no bikers. But there are always lots of interesting people.’

Any other time, Garrett would have been up for meeting interesting people, but tonight he couldn’t imagine anyone interesting him more than the woman on his arm. He paid the fee at the door and a surly man the size of small house with fire-engine hair and a scruffy beard stamped their hands with a red ink TBP.

Inside a live band had just begun to play to a full, but not yet crowded house. ‘The place gets raided from time to time,’ Kendra said. ‘I don’t know what all goes on. I just come here because it’s interesting.’

‘A good raid and us carted off to the police station will really give the press something to talk about,’ Garrett observed.

‘Don’t worry,’ she yelled to be heard above the band’s bass-heavy version of Highway to Hell. ‘They just got raided last week. They’ll be good to go for a while now. We can relax and enjoy ourselves.’ She pulled him onto the dance floor. ‘Best dance while there’s room. In a few hours it’ll be a real tit squeeze.’

Kendra Davis was just as stunning dark and dangerous as she was golden and romantic, as she was naked in his kitchen, and she definitely knew how to move on the dance floor. But it made Garrett more than a little nervous that he wasn’t the only one who seemed to be noticing the way the woman could shake her booty. He thought about asking her to try not to draw to much attention to herself, but he wasn’t even sure it was possible for Kendra Davis not to draw attention.

The place smelled of leather and beer, and sweat. Already there was a thick haze of pheromones invisible to the eye, but everyone there breathed them it, gave them off and reveled in the dark anticipation of what the night might bring. The look in Kendra’s eyes was bright and wicked, like she would do anything, try anything, like all the boundaries were suddenly negotiable.

And fuck, as amazing as she was like that, as much as he wanted to lose himself in the place, in the experience, there was no way he could keep from thinking about who might be watching her in that crowd, about who might be waiting for just the perfect opportunity.

As though she were reading his mind, she pulled him to her with a hand curled around his neck and spoke against his ear. ‘Oh would you relax, Garrett. Do you really think this is the kind of hang-out Tess Delaney would frequent?’

Then she slid both arms around his neck and let him pull her into a deep, hungry kiss. When it ended with an aggressive flick of his tongue, she offered a throaty giggle. ‘Marking territory, are we?’ Before he had a chance to respond, she returned the favor, plunging her tongue in deep, and tightening a fist in his hair to pull him closer.

He moved a hand to the small of her back and gave her the full frontal rub-up, enough to be sure she knew she’d gotten his cock’s attention. ‘You see where this is leading if you keep that up?’

She pulled away and gave his crotch some breathing room as the music settled into a heavy metal beat that filled the dance floor with lots of heavily booted bikers and their spandex and leather women. Garrett was surprised to find more than a few men in pressed jeans and designer polo shirts bellied up to the bar in the mix that looked like it was probably mostly low-brow. He wasn’t the only man who looked like he’d just come from a work out at the corner gym and Kendra’s shredded jeans seemed to be the fashion statement of more than a few women among a smattering of Goth and grunge and plain old red-neck jeans and tee-shirts with baseball caps.

With each song the band played, the dance floor became fuller and fuller. The strobe light flashed and the disco ball bathed the floor in sparkles as people rocked and strutted and sweated, and it became more and more difficult to tell who was dancing with whom. Garrett was about to grab Kendra by the hand and reel her back in so they could stay connected when a biker in a ZZ Top tee-shirt that smelled like an ashtray and looked like it might have been painted across his bulging pecs managed to slide in between them, turn his back on Garrett, and focus his full attention on Kendra. And suddenly all Garrett could see was his broad back.

‘Kendra,’ he called, but his voice was drowned out in the roar of Def Leppard. And that might have been okay if the man hadn’t been so fucking big. Kendra was certainly entitled to dance with whomever she liked. But he couldn’t see her. He fucking couldn’t see her! Not even her feet between the man’s shuffling boots. ‘Kendra!’ He called again. Louder this time. That at least got the man’s attention, but when he turned to see what Garrett wanted, and he could see beyond the biker’s bulk, Kendra was not there! The woman the man was dancing with had cropped blonde hair and a leather bustier several sizes too small.

‘Kendra!’ Garrett called out, louder this time, shoving his way past the biker, who pulled the blonde to him protectively. Frantically Garrett scanned the burgeoning crowd on the dance floor, scanned the women with hats. There were cowboy hats, police hats, even a few stocking caps, but there were just too many people, too many lights, too much noise. In his mind he could only think of Razor Sharp’s horrid email and Kendra’s response to it. Why the hell hadn’t he forced the issue? Why the hell hadn’t he made her tell him why she was so upset, made her tell him about the stalker Dee had mentioned. And fuck! Why had he let her talk him into bringing her here?

*****

Grace Marshall lives in South England with her husband and the growing gang of hooligan birds who frequent their feeders. When Grace isn’t busy writing something sexy and romantic, she’s busy digging in her ever-expanding veg garden or walking across the British countryside. She finds inspiration outdoors in nature, and most of her best story ideas come to her while she’s walking or gardening.

Grace is the author of the fast paced, quirky Executive Decisions Trilogy  published by Xcite Romance. The first and second novels in the trilogy are out now.

Grace Marshall’s alter-ego, K D Grace, writes critically acclaimed, best-selling erotic romance. Whether it’s sexy romance or romantic sex, between The Graces, there’s a story for you.

Find Grace here:

Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/GraceMarshallRomance

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/GM_Romance

New Release: Lakeland Heatwave Book 3: Elemental Fire by K D Grace

LAKELAND HEATWAVE BOOK 3: ELEMENTAL FIRE

K D GRACE

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

More buy links added here as they become available: http://kdgrace.co.uk/books/lakeland-heatwave-book-3-elemental-fire/

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

*****

Excerpt:

The demon, Lucia, studied Kennet for what might have been ages, and he felt as though the pressure of her scrutiny would crush him.

‘I have never worn man flesh.’ She nodded down to his penis.

He blushed and surged and blushed again. His heart raced. ‘Does it make a difference?’

She shrugged, still studying his cock as though she’d never seen one before. ‘Not really. Flesh is flesh.’ On a whim, she reached out and stroked his erection, and he gasped as the touch of her shivered up his spine and blossomed bright inside his head.

She continued to touch him, but her eyes were now locked on his face, and he tried desperately not to thrust against her. ‘I am only touching your cock, Kennet Birch, and it is all you can do to keep from spilling your seed at my feet.’

‘That is the most sensitive part,’ he breathed. ‘Of a man, I mean.’

She moved closer and ran a splayed hand up over his ribs. And he did spill his seed with a desperate gasp as though he could never get enough oxygen again. And he was embarrassed and terrified and angry, and it was as though the whole range of emotions exploded in his head in an instant. Then she leaned in and brushed her lips against his, and for a split second the world flashed before his eyes more vivid, more perfect, more complete than he had ever seen it before. He knew things, he saw things, he felt things, things beyond him. And he would have dropped again to his knees, but he couldn’t, not held in her gaze as he was.

‘I have barely touched you and you are overwhelmed, Kennet Birch. Do you really think you can survive my possession of you?’

He forced himself to hold her gaze, trembling suddenly as though he were in the grips of some powerful illness. All of him ached, and he knew the real world was bleeding through. There was very little time. ‘I won’t survive if you don’t possess me. My coming to you has guaranteed that.’ He wrapped his arms around himself as the shakes became more violent. ‘You said it yourself, I have nothing to lose.’

‘And why would I want a sick and broken male body?’ She asked. Her eyes blazed in the dance of firelight that always seemed so close to her.

‘If you possess me, you can heal me,’ he said. ‘And anyway, if you possess me and I die, well it really doesn’t matter at this point.’

For an eternal moment she studied him. She studied him until he looked away. His head was fuzzy, his body ached even in the dream world. He couldn’t hold much longer.

She lifted his chin once again so that he met her gaze, and the shakes stopped. The pain went away. He felt his head clear.

‘If I do what you ask of me, even though you live, your life is forfeit. You know this?’

‘I know,’ he breathed. ‘It doesn’t matter.

‘You say that now in your hour of need. But when that passes, when you are whole and stronger and healthier than you have ever dreamed possible, when your heart heals and you learn to love again, you won’t be so anxious to let go of what is rightfully mine when the time comes.’

He suddenly felt more pain than he knew existed in the whole world, and none of it was physical. He inhaled breath that felt like shards of stone. ‘I’ll never know love again. I’ll never know life again, so there’s really nothing you can take from me that isn’t already long gone.’

Her gaze softened, and somehow he found that infinitely comforting. Then she moved closer and kissed him, slowly, languidly, as though they had all the time in the world, and his cock was hard again. She stepped back from him. One shrug and the robe of fire fell away, and the glow of her body flashed bright, then dimmed and steadied until he could see details, erect nipples atop high breasts, rounded hips, a golden splash of curls at the juncture of her thighs. ‘I am not like him,’ she said softly. ‘It gives me no pleasure to make those who dwell in the flesh my puppets. You will be, how is it you put it these days, you will be in the driver’s seat.’ She took him into her arms and kissed him hard, and when he feared he would disgrace himself again with his cock pressed up tight against the top of her belly, she pulled away. ‘However,’ she said. ‘If I grant your request, then I will possess you. All of you. You will belong to me, your life will mine.’ She gaze was painfully bright. ‘And if you earnestly wish to be rid of Deacon, then you will do as I say for as long as it takes us to accomplish our task, and it will take time. I know him. You don’t. I’m his equal. You’re not. And one more very important thing, Kennet Birch.’ She stroked his hair gently and whispered against his lips. ‘Never, never forget how badly I can hurt you if you defy me.’ Then she guided his hand down over her pubic curls. ‘If my terms are not acceptable to you, then you must return to your body and face your fate.’

Boldly, brazenly, he slid a finger down low and circled her clit, and her eyes fluttered. ‘If it weren’t acceptable to me, I wouldn’t be here,’ he answered.

She took his hand and guided him back to a chair that appeared from out of nowhere. It looked like a golden throne with no arms. What? Was he to petition her? He didn’t understand. But it was no throne at all. She pushed him down on it and stood before him caressing her breasts until her nipples were stiff and swollen. Then she raised one perfect leg and set her elegant Botticelli foot on his thigh, affording him a view of her wet and fiery depths. ‘I do not enter through your breath, Kennet Birch,’ she said. ‘As sex is your magic, so is it mine. You will go in through me, inside out. And your hunger for me will pull me into you when your libido surges brightest.’

And he was so hungry for her. She filled his head and his body with an aching want that even if he were not a practitioner of sex magic, he would understand was not mundane. And in his case, the fear that he would die if he didn’t have her here and now was a very real one. That he might die even if he did, that her possession might be too much for him, well that was a risk he was more than willing to take.

‘Are you certain this is what you want, Kennet Birch?’ she asked him as she moved onto his lap, positioning herself, opening her sex with her fingers.

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’ Even as he said it, he realized how silly that sounded, since either way his life as he’d known it was over.

‘Very well then.’ She settled to the point of contact, to the point at which he could just feel the head of his penis against the resistance of her opening. He reached for her breasts, and with the hand not busy between her legs, she cradled his head and drew him near so he could nurse. The electrical shock through his body caused him to jump and jerk, and at that very instant she settled onto him, sheathing him tightly, deeply, and he knew he was dying. This was the point of no return. It was as though the tight wet pull of her swallowed him whole. Then she cupped his chin and held his face again so he couldn’t look away from her shining eyes. Her voice was like warm honey, thick and sweet, and he felt the sound of it in his very marrow, in his very soul. ‘You are mine, Kennet Birch. No longer are you your own. I possess you, body, soul and life force. Even in name you are now mine, Kennet Lucian. You are mine until I have no further use for you, until I have used you up.’ She gripped him hard and he exploded inside her and the world blew a part into tiny particles and disappeared like flecks of dust in the darkness.

****

‘Bloody Hell! Dr Allen! Doctor Allen! Get over here. Now!’

Kennet inhaled delicious, abundant air as though he’d just remembered how to breathe. Then he fought his way up from under an unruly sheet to sit up on the bed. A woman and a man in hospital scrubs stood either side of him, holding him, and there was chaos and someone was yelling. It took him a second to register that it was him yelling over and over again, ‘Where the hell am I? Where the hell am I?’ And then the bright lights, the gurney with a body shrouded in a sheet next to him all came into focus. ‘Jesus! What the fuck am I doing in the morgue?’

The woman in scrubs standing next to him looked pale and her hands were unsteady. ‘Mr. Birch,’ she said, doing her best to stay calm. ‘You were pronounced dead almost fifteen minutes ago.’

*****

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, books one and two of her Executive Decisions Trilogy are now available.

Find K D Here:                                                                  

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/

http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

New Release: The Perfect Dom by Lucy Felthouse

A hot new release for fans of BDSM erotica!

Here’s the blurb:

Four kinky and erotic BDSM tales from the smutty pen of Lucy Felthouse.

Balancing the Books
Philip’s a well off man, and doesn’t need a job. But when he sees the gorgeous owner of his local bookshop, he applies for the role that’s being advertised there immediately. He’s totally stricken by the stunning Giovanna, and when it turns out she wants to boss him around in a sexual sense as well as an employment sense, he has no intention of refusing.

Feeling the Heat
Taylor and Maisie’s car has broken down. Luckily, Taylor’s handy with engines and is working hard to get them back on the road. Unfortunately, Maisie is getting annoyed at the amount of time he’s spending in the garage and confronts him. Instead of arguing back, though, Taylor comes up with an ingenious plan to keep Maisie quiet.

The Perfect Dom
Part of Mia’s nightwear is a pair of hotpants with SPANK ME emblazoned across the arse. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but when she forgets that she has a houseguest and heads to the kitchen for a drink, she’s shocked to find Alex in her living room. Immediately spotting what he sees as an invitation written across Mia’s bottom, Alex makes an offer and Mia soon discovers that he is, in fact, the perfect dom.

Meet Me at the Spanish Steps
Darby is working at a holiday camp on the outskirts of Rome and is getting along just fine, with the exception of her sex life. For various reasons, she’s not getting what she wants in the bedroom, and her tastes are very particular. She turns to the Internet to get what she needs, and when she discovers William, it seems that he’s more than willing—and capable—of scratching that particular itch.

And an excerpt:

“Spank me. Is that an invitation?”

Shit. Mia had completely forgotten about him. Her flatmate, Katy, had asked if it was okay if her brother could stay on their sofa for a couple of nights. His own place was being fitted with a new bathroom and conditions over there weren’t exactly tantamount to hygiene. Mia had been rushing around in order to get to work and hadn’t really been paying attention, so she’d just agreed and then promptly forgotten.

Now, however, she was being treated to a huge and incredibly embarrassing reminder. Katy was on a nightshift at the hospital so when Mia had woken up at 9p.m.—her own body clock being on that of working in the club, though tonight was her night off—she’d deemed it safe to wander to the kitchen to get a drink in what she was wearing.

Big mistake. Alex was sitting on the sofa, an eyebrow quirked and a leering grin on his face. He held his iPad, and earphones hung around his neck. He’d obviously been watching a film or playing some ridiculous game before Mia had flipped the light on and sauntered through the living room in nothing but a skimpy vest and hotpants. The hotpants were, of course, what he was referring to. The fuchsia garment had SPANK ME emblazoned across the ass in large black lettering.

Mia gave Alex a look that would have turned a lesser man to stone. He, however, simply grinned even more widely, then said, “Well? Do you need a firm hand to that luscious butt of yours? Like a spanking, do you?”

Mia sighed. “Shut up, Alex. It’s none of your business. I’m just getting a drink. Get back to your damn gadget and leave me alone.”

“Oooh, someone’s defensive. I’m just saying, you must have them for a reason. A statement like that printed on your backside would definitely be construed as an invitation in my book.”

“Well, maybe it is an invitation, Alex. But it’s certainly not directed at you. Now if you’d kindly stop passing judgement on my non-existent sex life I’ll get my drink and get out of your way.”

More info and buy links here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/the-perfect-dom/

 

Happy Reading!

Lucy x

New Release: Kinky Boots by K D Grace

KINKY BOOTS

K D GRACE

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

More links will be added here as they become available:

http://kdgrace.co.uk/books/kinky-boots/

After a sizzling encounter in DEMON HEELS, a quirky all-night shoe store, with the store’s hot owner, FINN MASTERS, JILL HART walks away in the most gorgeous boots ever. Her new boots come with an unexpected bonus, a sexy demon named ELEANOR, who’s looking for a good time. All she lacks is a body, and Jill’s will do nicely.

Jill quits her dead-end job and, not knowing what’s come over her stops by the nearest pub intent on doing tequila shots until she falls off the stool. Instead she does FINN MASTERS in the beer garden, unwittingly participating in her first ever threesome. The boots were the bait, the timing was right and Eleanor has new digs. It’s Finn job to prevent Eleanor’s misbehaving. His failure means he’ll have to ride shotgun and do damage control until Eleanor moves out at the next full moon.

With Eleanor in residence, Jill’s bolder, sexier, willing to take risks. But is she a whole new Jill, or is it just demon courage? And how will Finn feel about her when she’s just plain Jill again? Will the maddeningly magical ménage make Jill’s dreams come true, or will it break her heart?

*****

Excerpt:

There was a soft knock on the door and Meinrad entered the room with several hanks of what looked like ordinary rope. He nodded his greeting to Finn, then his gaze came to rest on Jill, and she felt her entire body blush at his inspection. ‘Turn around,’ he said.

She obeyed.

He made some sound low in his throat that could have passed as either approval or not. Then he placed a large hand on her shoulder and turned her back to face him. She noticed he wore the Kinky Boots uniform T-shirt stretched tight across his very broad chest. The shop name was punctuated by the hard pressure of nipples on muscular pecs. The black jeans he wore rode low on his hips. The wave of lust that rushed over her was staggering. How had she not noticed how sexy he was?

Then Finn moved to stand beside him, and she understood. Even though Meinrad was by far the larger man, Finn dominated the room. Finn dominated the space. Finn dominated every second of the last twenty-four hours of her life, as though he had shoved his way in and pushed everything else out. It did things to her, that thought, things that were way beyond lust, things that were a lot more frightening than being possessed by a demon.

He stood gazing down at her from some neutral distance that made her feel very much alone, as though the world and everyone in it had receded, leaving her to await her fate. Eleanor was keeping a low profile. Finn spoke without preamble. ‘Unless something’s hurting you, while Meinrad’s binding you, you’re not to speak. You’re only to move when he moves you. You’re to do exactly as he says. You’re to accept what he does to you in total passivity. Is that clear?’

‘Is he going to fuck me?’ She was embarrassed the minute she said it but it was too late to take it back.

‘If I want him to, yes,’ Finn said.

If Finn wanted him to. Dear God, what was she doing? Suddenly she felt unsteady on her feet. She didn’t know Meinrad. Not like she knew Finn. And yet the thought of the big man hammering her with his enormous cock while she was all trussed up was at least as exciting as it was uncomfortable. The thought that he would do so only at Finn’s bidding excited her even more.

‘There’ll be no safe word,’ Finn continued. ‘All you have to do is tell Meinrad to stop. Or if at any time he thinks you’re not fit to continue, he’ll stop, and that’ll be that. Are we clear?’

She nodded. ‘And what about you?’

‘Meinrad’s acting on my behalf.’ Finn held her in a cool gaze. ‘He’ll do as I say, and so will you, unless you choose at any point not to play.’ For a long moment he studied her, as though he might see something, perhaps some flaw, perhaps some weakness, she didn’t know what. He seemed too far away to tell. She held her breath. Waiting.

At last he blinked and stepped back, still holding her gaze. ‘I’ll ask you again, Jill. Are you sure this is what you want?’

She nodded, afraid to speak for fear her heart would jump out of her throat. Then she remembered to breathe again.

Finn said nothing. He took her hands in his and offered them to Meinrad, who took both her wrists in one huge palm and tied them across one another in a simple looped knot from which she could have easily escaped if she’d wanted. Then he led her to the bed and guided her onto it. There, he secured her hands to the headboard with several feet of slack, enough to allow him to work around her and at the same time allow Finn to observe from every angle. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed Finn had pulled a ladder back chair to the side of the bed and sat emotionlessly looking on. A quick glance was all she got before Meinrad settled her into a kneeling position facing the wall with her hands resting on the headboard.

In the beginning, it felt as though she were being decorated with rope; that’s the best way Jill could describe what Meinrad was doing to her. The rope was softer than she expected it to be and not unpleasant against her bare skin. The embarrassment she felt came, flashed hot, then passed as Meinrad looped the rope and efficiently placed knots above her breasts and then below and then tightened and cinched his efforts until the harnessing effect squeezed and pinched and offered up each of her breasts in a tight little nest of rope, like ripe fruit topped by the cherry-hard rise of her nipples. She’d always had sensitive breasts and to have them so handled and bound made her whole chest burn with a need that was replicated in her pussy.

Meinrad worked in complete silence, his hands moving over her body as though she were nothing more than the canvas for what he was creating. His touch was exacting and his rhythm as he worked was hypnotic. Early on she realised that one of his hands was on her at all times. She remembered basic knot training from her childhood days in the Girl Guides. Right over left and under and through. Left over right and under and through. Rope threaded through competent fingers, rope slid over bare skin, coiling, twisting, binding, descending right over left and left over right, pressing a column of knots down the length of her spine before looping around her waist and embracing her belly. Again. And again. Yes, she was his canvas, and what he created took its shape against her flesh, but his art didn’t happen without exacting a price from him, and in her peripheral vision, as he reached around her to secure a knot over her navel, she caught a glimpse of the erection set tight in his black jeans, and she felt the hitch of his breathing not quite hidden in the rhythm of right over left, left over right. As he crossed the ropes around her body, she felt the heat of his breath whisper along her back next to the weaving and twisting and soft swishing of the rope along her spine.

With a tug of the rope every pore of her body responded to the tightening just as he nestled a knot against the pucker of her bottom and her gasp sounded like a rush of wind in the stretching silence. Meinrad gave a little pull and her clit hardened in empathy with the pressure between her buttocks. Then without warning, he slipped an arm around her and turned her over as he pulled two strands of rope up between her legs, up tight against her upper thighs like the elastic of knickers, or a tightly cinched climber’s harness. That done, with a deft movement of his fingers he secured a knot just over her clit, and this time she cried out in the strange mix of discomfort and arousal. The whole gape of her was pressed between the two strands of rope, knotted at fore and aft like a ship, narrow and thick-hulled.

There was barely time to get used to the strange rub and pressure between her legs, or the knot that felt like the tip of a thick finger attempting to breach her bottom, before Meinrad began to bind her thighs to her lower legs and ankles, making the position in which she knelt mandatory. With each knot, with each looping of the rope, he forced her bent legs further apart until she was wide open, yet at the same time held closed by the ropes between her legs. Bound and kneeling on the bed, she tried to breathe deeply, tried to fight back the panic of her own helplessness, something she had never experienced before. She was dangerously close to hyperventilating, and Eleanor seemed to be completely absent from the whole event.

‘Shall I continue?’ Meinrad asked.

*****

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Book two, Riding the Ether, is now available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall.

http://kdgrace.co.uk
http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor
http://www.twitter.com/KD_Grace