Wednesday, November 22, 2017
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
An Unlikely Couple And Their Surprise Love Affair. Sultry Nights, An #Anthology, Featuring An Excerpt from Ursula Sinclair- #RomanceNovels #BadBoys #FreeGiveaway
Sultry Nights
A Limited Edition Romance Collection
Containing Stories from: Nicole Morgan, Jocelyn Dex, Alison Foster,
Kate Richards, Linda O'Connor, Samantha Holt, Jerrie Alexander,
Whitley Cox, Krista Ames, Ursula Sinclair, Measha Stone, Tuesday Embers,
Siera London, Rachel Shane, Bonnie Phelps, Misha Elliott,
Alyson Reynolds, Jenna Bayley-Burke, Madison Michael,
Pepper Goodrich, Marcia James, Destiny Blaine
Blurb:
Love, passion, romance and desire… No matter what your preference, this set of 22 hot and sexy reads has just what you need. From surprise love affairs to bad boys that we can’t help but fall for, and couples that were meant to be, this compilation from Romance Collections is sure to please your every single need.
Sultry Nights Buy Links:
Amazon |
~*~*~*~*~*~
Featuring:
Frozen- The Martini Lounge
by Ursula Sinclair
Blurb:
Lani
Ever have that one perfect moment in time, when you know exactly what you’re supposed to do, who you’re supposed to be in life? Well, that had been me, and it certainly had lasted for more than a moment. I’d decided to pledge myself to God and help others in his name. Selfless, that was me
and I was weeks away from taking my final vows. Then something happened, I met someone and suddenly I questioned everything.
Rom
I’ve always lived my life on my terms. Granted, I never thought I’d grow up to be a male stripper. But what the hell, I made good money and now, I had a shot at something more. And the women. Yeah, I loved women but they came and went. I preferred it that way. Didn’t matter which of us left first, as long as one of us did. I didn’t do attachments. Then something happened. I’m no saint, but I saved someone and wanted an attachment.
Only to find out I could never have her.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Excerpt:
I’d always been the dutiful child. I was a good student, did as I was told. Never broke the rules. My twin broke them enough for the both of us. I merely tried to protect her. But my decision to become a nun wasn’t made lightly. I’ve always had this need to give to others. I felt an innate emptiness, a sense there was something out there that needed my help—the church.
I nursed my single glass of wine, but as the night wore on, my temples pounded against the noise in the room. I sometimes suffered from migraines and this kind of atmosphere provided fodder to bring one on. Lots of people around, the voices and the thumping music. Thankfully, the women were ready to leave the lounge after a few drinks. Dancing didn’t really seem to be done much in here, more a place to drink and socialize. Although, I could spot the strippers in the room by their distinctive lack of clothing and whatever they rubbed over their bodies to make them glisten. I made it a point not to stare too much at anyone. The reason we’d come to the club had all the women standing up and heading over into one of the other rooms, where the show they’d come to see would take place. That was my cue.
“I’m calling it a night, sis,” I announced as I stood too, rubbing my head.
Lara wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “Are you sure? You okay?”
“I’m tired. It’s been a long day and I have a pounding headache. It’s best I leave now.” I squinted, feeling a little lightheaded.
“Oh damn, I’m sorry. I should have thought of that.”
“I’ll be fine. Besides, I enjoyed being here with you tonight and celebrating at least a little bit with you and Corrine.”
“Thank you again for coming, Lani,” Corrine said, giving me a quick hug.
“Yes,” Lara added, kissing my cheek. “Thank you. Love you. Feel better.”
She squeezed my arm.
“I will. Love you too.”
“Want me to help you get a cab?” Lara asked
“No, I’ll just call one.”
“Okay. Text me once you get home,” Lara said.
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, sure.” It’s not like I lived alone. I hadn’t moved out of our parent’s house yet. I wouldn’t until I took my novitiate vows in a month, but I worked every day and went to church every other day. Only returned to our parent’s house in time for dinner and to sleep.
I made my way to the elevator while my sister and her companions went in the other direction to one of the rooms for the strip show. Part of me was a little curious and wanted to see one, but the other more practical part of me knew I shouldn’t. Having a drink in a bar was one thing, watching the strip show, well something else entirely. Besides, the world seemed a little tilted. I stepped onto the elevator and leaned against the side to right myself. I’d just pressed the button for the first floor when someone stepped on. My head ached so much I couldn’t even glance up to see who I shared the ride with. I stared at the floor and could see the dark shoes and pant legs, the size hinted at a man.
The door closed, the elevator dropped and my body swayed but I didn’t fall.
The man who now stood behind me said, “Whoa!” He held onto my waist as though to steady me.
“Tha—thank—y…” Something was wrong with my voice. My words didn’t come out right. How much did I have to drink? The elevator door opened and I took a step forward to get out when the entire floor spun up to meet my face, but strong hands held onto me.
“I got ya.”
“Everything okay?”
A male’s voice asked, one I didn’t recognize.
“Yeah, she’s fine. Just a little too much to drink.”
I didn’t recognize the one who answered either. “Na…” I wanted to protest, but the arms holding me up were the only reason I could walk forward. I leaned against his strength, depending on it.
I felt myself being placed in the back of a car. The scent of smoke and stale air made me want to puke. “Cab,” I muttered.
“Yeah, cab.”
Hands reached across my lap to snap my seatbelt, pausing to stroke my breasts. Wrong, this was all wrong.
“Nooooooo!” I cried out.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Sultry Nights Buy Links:
Amazon |
Ursula Sinclair is the alter ego of LaVerne Thompson, an award-winning, best-selling, multi-published author, an avid reader and a writer of contemporary, fantasy, and sci/fi sensual romances. She loves creating worlds within our world. She writes romantic suspense and new adult
romance under the pen name Ursula Sinclair.
She is a certified chocoholic and is currently working on several projects. Some might even involve chocolate. But writing helps maintain her sanity.
Sign up for her newsletter for sneak peeks and advance info on new releases as well as a few freebies to subscribers. http://bit.ly/1hA7C9W
Contact her at:
http://facebook.com/groups/lavernesnews
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http://lavernethompson.com
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Saturday, November 18, 2017
#SatSpanks #WIP-Being Spanked By Sir Was Not On Her List Of Goals For The Day #BDSM #SpankingRomance by Kara Paul
Hello Spankos! It's Kara here and I'm new to the hop! I share a blog with Clare and so periodically you will see stuff from me too. I'm an aspiring author and I love spanking and BDSM romances with lots of Domestic Discipline. Anyways my excerpt for today comes from a book I'm writing. It's in a series, not sure whether it will be book 1 or 2 but either way of all the books I've started writing in the series this one is the closest to being finished! The excerpts I've posted so far are very rough. So please excuse any mistakes and typos.
I posted another excerpt from this book earlier in the week. If you want to read it, you can click here. That withstanding today's excerpt takes place when Tally and Brock arrive home. Tally is jealous of a woman who gave Brock a bunch of attention. She doesn't believe Brock when he said he wasn't interested in the woman... let see what happens next.
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| My inspiration for Brock |
Excerpt
Silent, Brock shook his head.
“How can a man with a genius I.Q., not see that a woman is after him? Unless, he enjoyed the attention,” she asked. She folded her arms protectively. The image of the cute blonde practically throwing herself onto him still pissed her off.
Long legs, slim and curvy in all the right places, what was there not to like? And him with six foot three physique that was all muscle and pure power and his wavy ash blond hair and light blues eyes and angular features with a Master's degree in Mechanical Engineering. Her other husbands called him the pretty boy intellectual. They all brought a unique aspect to her life that she wouldn't change for the world.
Mace was the quiet leader and head of their household that they all submitted two, Ethan was the eccentric and the sweetest who lived with his heart on his sleeve and Nino was the rugged and the most protective but Brock was the strictest when it came to adhering to BDSM protocol in their home. Being the second in charge of their home, he took his role very seriously especially when the others were away.
“We are not having this conversation,” Brock said.
He sighed obviously exasperated but there was no way she could let this go. She had to know why he hadn't rebuffed that woman's advances. Whether he knew it or not he was one of the hottest men in town. She heard more than a few whispers behind her back questioning how she managed to snag someone like him.
What most the haters didn't know she three more hotties like him who shared her bead. And they weren't just flings they were married. Though not legally, they had a commitment ceremony where she married Mace legally and while in the midst they all pledged to love and spend their lives together. Whether it was kinky or downright weird, their love was very real which meant she had a very real claim on all of her men.
“I think we should. You know consideration and honesty runs both ways in our marriage,” she snapped.
Brock drummed his fingers on the top of the steering wheel while his other hand gripped the side and twisted.
“You actually think I'm interested in her?”
"How could you not be?"
He swore softly in French. A language he learned courtesy of his French Canadian grandmother.
"She's gorgeous and I'm---"
She fell silent. His taut jaw muscles and furrowed brow told her she just crossed a line.
"You are my wife, my world. The day you came into my life, my heart flew into my throat and I could barely speak. Me. You know that's who I am. And with you, I was speechless and breathless and I knew I had to have you. I share my bed and have committed my life to you and yet you have this strange idea that I have become enamored with her is insulting."
"Why?"
"Because I'm your Sir," he said forcefully. "And I don't take that role lightly."
Feeling foolish and guilty she knew her insecurities had a tendency to runaway from her. "Sorry, sir."
"I can tell you that I love you until I'm blue in the face. But I see now, you are in need of correction."
"Sir?"
"What is it Talia?"
"When I saw her flirting with you, I sort of went crazy," she said.
"You probably missed the part where I politely excused myself."
She furled her brow. Oops.
"I only want you. You are the woman I want in my bed and in my life. You are the one I own and you will be the only woman I will ever love."
"I guess I should be more trusting of you,” she said and then nibbled her bottom lip.
“That's a wise thought. Too bad you didn't think of that before you started this conversation,” he said. “Girl, you're in for one hell of a spanking.”
“But Sir, I know now that I was wrong,” she said.
“After you've harangued me our entire drive home,” he said.
He was right. They turned the corner and drove onto the long driveway that led to their home. He had listened the entire time as she questioned his commitment and love all the way home. How many times had he done it to her? She couldn't recall one time. The trust was going in one direction, him to her. She closed her eyes and wished she could have eaten her words.
Brock was possessive, not jealous. Big difference. She was both. He always said her insecurities were going to keep getting her into trouble and he was right again. Perhaps he would take pity on her this time considering he'd been away for so long. Probably not.
“I wonder if handcuffs and being on my leash tonight and tomorrow will convince you that we are going to be together forever faithfully.”
She squeezed her legs as her pussy dampened her panties. “Yes, Sir.”
“Did I say anything when that young guy offered to help you in the kitchen when Sophie could have easily helped you instead?”
She opened her mouth to speak but words failed to come out. Though she didn't do anything wrong, apparently he didn't miss anything like something as innocent as guy helping her move a box of cans to the kitchen pantry. He did have a point.
“Hmmm? Have anything to say?”
She remained silent. All she could do was shaking her head slowly.
“Girl, I'm talking to you and I would like an answer.”
“No, Sir you didn't make a big deal about that.”
“Have you heard of a psychological term called Projection?” he asked.
“No.”
“It's when someone attributes their own thoughts, feelings and motivation to another person. For instance, you thinking that I could even consider being with another woman was really you trying to hide the fact that you are interested in that guy who helped you. But because you know that is a bad thing you accuse me of liking that woman instead.”
Horse puckey. That guy was even the same league as you. That bitch on the other hand, would have bought scalped tickets if it meant getting her into the same game as you.
They pulled into their driveway. They arrived home quicker than she realized. Any other time she would be happy to be home but now she wasn't sure if she wanted to go inside. Receiving a spanking from her Sir for being jealous and disobedient was not on her list of goals she wanted to accomplish that day.
Once inside, he shut the front door.
“Girl, in the front room.”
He set his keys on the table in the hall then followed her inside. He switched on the lamp light next to the sofa.
He sighed and shook his head. “Pants off and the panties too.”
--
I hope you liked it. It's a rough draft so pardon all the errors. I hope to have it completed by December. So stop by for updates.
Until then check out my fellow authors and their sexy spanking selections below...
Thursday, November 16, 2017
Cole For Christmas by Rayanna Jamison-He Teaches His Little Angel An Old-Fashioned Lesson In Minding Her Temper #DomesticDiscipline #RomanceNovel #MF
Blurb
World-renowned supermodel Angel Davis aka Angelique was officially having the worst year of her life. Swindled by her agent and set up to take the fall for a crime she didn't commit she'd been thrown in jail, had her assets frozen, lost any friends she had, and been 'let go' from all her contracts.
Now two days before Christmas the paparazzi is camped out on her doorstep. Out of choices she flees to her family's cabin. Only the cabin no longer belongs to her family.
When Cole Evan returns from a trip to the store he finds non-other than his ex-girlfriend/ex-client Angel on his couch he has a decision to make. Does he send her on her way or try to repair their mistakes by doing what he should have done back then. By teaching his little angel an old-fashioned lesson in minding her temper.
----
Excerpt
Angel Davis, known to the rest of the world as Angelique, was having the worst year of her life. The funny part was, it had started out as the best year, and only gotten worse with every month that went by.
Thank God the year was almost over. It was December 23rd, just two days shy of Christmas, and her 25th birthday. Normally, she would be busy ringing in the holidays with lavish upscale parties full of A-list celebrities, fine champagne, and gourmet food. And then disaster struck. The old adage about finding out who your real friends were in tough times was apparently one hundred percent true. When the dust had settled, Angel had come to the shocking realization that as far as true friends went, she had none.
It was a bleak reality, and she knew that the fault was her own. She had gotten, as her father would have said, much too big for her britches when the fame and riches hit, and left the few people who did care about her back in the dust. Who needed them anyway, she had told herself. Just reminders of the girl she used to be.
So now, she was at her lowest point, and she had nobody to pick up the pieces. Her father had passed away last year, and she hadn’t even made it home for the funeral. She had been working on a shoot in the Philippines at the time, and her confusion and devastation over his unexpected death had muddled her brain. She had made excuses, telling herself and everyone else that getting away would have meant breaking a contract, and would have been impossible. The only person she had fooled with that line had been herself. Bridges burned, she told herself, blowing the hair out of her eyes as she squinted in the dark trying to find her turn off.
She couldn’t even recall the last time she had been behind the wheel of a car. She was lucky she had never been able to bring herself to get rid of this one. The old mustang had surely seen better days, and had been sitting for years, but it had still purred when she turned the key in the ignition, and it would get her where she needed to go, which was anywhere but here. The past few years, there had always been a limo and a driver. There was way too much to do on the way to events to even consider driving herself. But her latest scandal had come with serious repercussions. It seemed that Alejandro, her beloved agent, had been scamming her for years. He had taken off last week with all her money, and of course, he was nowhere to be found. Tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered the moment it had all come to light, and everything that had happened since. She had been such a fool, blindly trusting Alejandro to take care of her, never taking in interest in her money or investments, as long as the checks came rolling in on time. It had made her the perfect target.
The money being gone wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part had come when she had been thrown in jail. She wasn’t the only model Alejandro had been swindling, and somehow, he had managed to implicate her in the whole thing. Her name and status had been enough to get her a good lawyer, even though she wasn’t able to pay for him at the moment. Christopher Bale, attorney to the stars. It had been easy enough for him to pull the necessary strings to get her out of jail, but that was all he had been able to do. Her credit cards were frozen, and her bank accounts were empty. Her contracts had all been reneged, and the paparazzi were camped out outside her L. A. home. She needed a quiet place to get away, to regroup in peace outside the scathing eyes of the media.
She owned properties, several of them, but she wasn’t allowed to leave the state. So that was out. With no money or credit cards, she couldn’t hide out the way she usually would, by renting a private villa somewhere, or at the very least, a luxurious penthouse suite in some swanky hotel. No doubt the paparazzi would find her no matter where she went anyway.
She was out of options. There was only one place she could go, and she was almost there, she realized. Her family’s cabin just outside of Tahoe, at Lake Holly, was her only hope. She hadn’t heard anything about it since her father’s death, but that only meant he had left it to her brother, Mason. It made sense that he would have done that. Mase loved that silly little cabin. Angel had good memories there too, of course, but she didn’t love it the way Mase had. She would have to call her brother tomorrow and let him know where she was, and that she was okay. Maybe, if she called early enough, she would get his voicemail, and not have to actually talk to him. That would be best. She hadn’t spoken to Mase since after her father’s funeral. She didn’t want to talk to him now, when her troubles were laid out across the front page of every gossip rag in the country.
Luckily for her, she had a spare key to the cabin in her wallet. Three years ago, the last time she had been home for Christmas, her father had given her one, insisting that she take it, so that she would have a place to stay if she ever needed a vacation, or as he put it “a time-out,” from the glitz and glamour of her career.
At the time she had scoffed at him, insisting that if she needed a vacation, she would go somewhere a lot nicer than a beat up little cabin in the woods. She recalled the hurt look that had settled on his features at the same time she recalled the thrashing her boyfriend, Cole, had given her over it later that evening.
Cole. That was another reason she had never gone home after that fateful Christmas. Cole had been her boyfriend, her high school sweetheart, and at one time her manager. Cole was old-school, a throw back from another time. Faith and family and values. He had managed her career, and her ego, with a firm hand. He considered his main job as her manager to be “keeping her grounded,” even if it meant at times he actually grounded her!
That was the year she had dumped him that fateful Christmas had been the end, and she had spent every Christmas and birthday since trying to forget. This year would be no different in that regard. But, it would be harder without the champagne flowing, the music blasting, and the millions of people surrounding her. This year, it would be just her, whatever ancient bottle of her father’s scotch she could rustle up in the abandoned cabin, and her memories. Including those of Cole.
Those memories always hit her harder at Christmas anyway, and it would be much more so this year. If she could pinpoint the exact moment her life had taken a wrong turn on the road to disaster, it would be the last Christmas she had spent with her family, and with him.
Shame washed over her at the memories as she turned down the long gravel road that would lead her to the log cabin at the lake.
* * * * *
Cole Evans read the headlines to the gossip rags as he stood in line at the local mercantile, and shook his head. He was surprised Old Man Percy even stocked such crap. He fought the urge to rip each and every one of them off the shelves, and buy them up so that no one else could. If Angel’s father was still alive, Cole knew he would have done just that to save the man who was like a father to him the pain of having to see the atrocious lies being written about his only daughter.
Instead, he laid the meager contents of his shopping cart out on the conveyor belt, and bit his tongue.Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, but to him, it was just another day. Gone were the lavish family Christmas celebrations of the past. He'd never had a family to celebrate with, until he met Mason Davis when he was ten years old. Hearing that his grandfather didn’t celebrate the holiday, Mason had dragged him home to celebrate with his family. The Davis clan had become his second family, and he had celebrated every Christmas with them for sixteen years, until Will died last year.
Sure, Mase was still on him, inviting him to spend the holiday weekend with him and his wife, Becca, but Cole was noncommittal. He fully intended to call Mase with an excuse, just as soon as he could come up with a good one.
He was yanked from his musings by the gravelly voice of Old Man Percy. “Cole Evans! Back for another Christmas with the Davis family, I take it?”
Cole sighed. He came to the market here once a month, and had this same conversation every time. Old Man Percy was ninety if he was a day, and a sweet old soul, but his memory was failing.
“No, Mr. Percy,” he reminded the man patiently. “Will died. He left the cabin to me, remember? I live there now.”
Old Man Percy regarded him with a blank stare, and muttered under his breath. Cole held back a chuckle as he picked out the words “crazy youngsters,” as well as a few other choice phrases.
Then Percy turned his gaze solemnly back to Cole, and his next words seemed almost lucid. “Damn shame about Lil' Angel. Media always turning things around to make a buck or two. Old Will would be turning over in his grave for sure with this latest scandal. Reckon that’s why she came up here for the holidays this year. Needed to hide from the media and them ol’ paparazzi.”
Cole just nodded to Mr. Percy and gathered up his bags, leaving the store after bidding a Merry Christmas over his shoulder. There wasn’t much else he could say to a man who was clearly muddling past and present. Angel Davis hadn’t been back to Lake Holly in three years, and Cole was certain that she would never return.
In his eyes, she was too much of a coward to face the music from the people she had hurt when she left. Not to mention the reckoning that he would surely give her if he ever laid eyes on her again.
Cole counted walking away when she lashed out as the biggest mistake he had ever made. He should have laid her out and burned up her bottom until she came to her senses. Maybe then their lives wouldn’t have gotten so messed up.
But her words had cut him to the quick, and he had been young and stubborn, and determined to give her what she thought she wanted. He should have known better.
Cole whistled to himself as he drove back up the mountain to his cabin in the woods. Yes, sir, Angel Davis knew better than to come anywhere near him, that was for sure. The day she came back into his life would be the day she paid for her mistakes, and the pain they had been causing everyone every day since.
To this day, he dreamed of going back to that fateful night, and having a redo. And every single time, his redo involved her over his knee, while he striped her bottom red with his belt, until she came to her senses and started acting like his Angel again.
For the woman the world knew as Angelique, Cole Evans knew as a little girl with pigtails and skinned knees, and a baby doll that went everywhere with her. And, later a young woman, who danced with him at her sweet sixteen. His first kiss and his first love.
--
Buy Links:
Blushing Books- https://blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&p=3136
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
#WIPItUpWednesday- If You Want To Speak To His Wife and Beloved Submissive You Must Ask Nicely #RomanceNovel #SpankingRomance #MF
Hello WIPsters! It's Wednesday and I'm throwing my hat into the ring! I've got a WIP for my first and hopefully not the last erotic romance that features a lot of spanking and one hot hero!
The excerpt I have for you today is book one or book two in my upcoming untitled menage series. Below is a pic of the hottie who is my inspiration for the MC of the story and excerpt that I'm showing you guys today!
 |
| My Inspiration for Brock |
Our hunky, hero and MC, Brock has come home from a trip abroad and he has spent his first night back with Tally his wife. He is a strict no-nonsense Dom and he wants to spend some uninterrupted time with his wife but the phone and his wife's best friend has other plans...
Excerpt
A sharp trilling sound echoed in Brock's ears. He rolled over and ignored it. This time louder, it chased away his nice rest and forced him to open his eyes. The cell phone on the nightstand beside him vibrated as it trilled.
“Yeah,” he said answering it.
“Where's Tally?” the woman asked.
“She's sleeping.” Which was what he was going to do once he hung up.
“Can I speak to her?” she asked.
“I don't know, can you?” he asked irritated.
It was a fine line between good manners and proper grammar when a person woke him out of a perfectly good sleep. Actually, there wasn't but she was being rude and he didn't feel like giving in to her bad behavior. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. They were always itchy when he woke up from a deep sleep.
She sighed. “Oh, I forgot. Hi, Brock.”
He recognized the snarky tone, it was Marnie Park, Tally's best friend. She was instrumental in getting Tally to agree to go out with him, if it wasn't for that, he'd have no patience for her and he wouldn't have allowed Tally to associate with her.
“Hi Marnie. Can denotes ability, may is asking for permission. Now ask properly,” he said. He liked twisting her screws because she got a kick out of annoying him. She was one woman who was in desperate in need of a Dom who wanted a brat.
“Alright, I’ll play along because this is important. May I speak with Tally?”
“Yes, you may,” he said.
He rolled onto his back and then turned and gazed at Tally. Her hair splayed over her face and the edge of the sheet on the tips of her nipples looked so sexy and sweet, he could make love to her right now. But Marnie would call incessantly and interrupt that.
“Honey wake up,” he said.
--
Okay, thanks for reading. I'll get back to writing. There are probably a ton of typos, I'm sorry but this is right out of the first draft. I know weird hunh? But I couldn't wait to show you. I promise there will be more, so come back regularly to see more excerpts from all of my WIPs. Until then go see what my fellow WIPsters are offering below!
Kara Paul...
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
Master Me, Please by BJ Wane-He Shows Her Love And She Gives Him The Kind Of Submission That Only True Love Has To Offer #BDSM #RomanceNovel #MF
Blurb
Krista Matthews thought nothing could be harder than losing her husband and Master to suicide until the man he’d entrusted her care to left also. By the time Dr. Dax Hayes returned from an overseas volunteer medical tour, she thought she was over his defection and ready to re-immerse herself in the BDSM world she needed and missed so much – without his help. One scene proves how wrong she was, and after Master Dax’s timely rescue, she agrees to let him tutor her back into the lifestyle. She just didn't count on her growing feelings for the strict Dom, or his refusal to take her over completely, the way she craves.
Dr. Dax Hayes fell for Krista Matthews the minute he looked into her blue eyes and saw the sated, content look she shared with her husband, Dr. Kurt Matthews. He managed to keep his feelings and lust under control until his friend and colleague asked him to join him in gifting Krista with a ménage for her birthday. Knowing it was a mistake, but unable to resist, Dax succumbed to the temptation of this one-time scene, never realizing where it would lead. A year later, after sealing his fate with a questionable act, he flees on a guilt trip, only to return and discover nothing has changed – he still wants Krista with an ache that won’t be assuaged by anyone else.
Unable to resist stepping in when Krista gets herself in trouble, Dax again gives in to temptation and aids the one woman he can never have back into the lifestyle her submissive nature needs. When Krista learns the truth, will her feelings be strong enough to forgive him, or has he gambled everything only to lose it all in the end?
Publisher's Note: This book is intended for adults only. It contains elements of power exchange and explicit scenes.
Excerpt
I am in love with another man’s wife. Widow, Dax Hayes amended as he looked from Krista Matthews’ grief-stricken face to the coffin waiting to be lowered into the ground. His mouth went dry, his heart beating a rapid tattoo that threatened to burst from his chest at that guilt-ridden revelation. Jesus, why did that slap-in-the-face acknowledgement have to choose this moment, in this place, to rear its ugly head?
With considerable effort, Dax shifted his gaze away from her red-rimmed, sorrowful blue eyes, resisting the urge to cross over to her even as he admitted his strong feelings for his colleague’s wife didn’t come as a surprise. He’d wanted Krista the moment he’d glanced across the surgery room and looked into her eyes for the first time two years ago, and nothing had changed since. There had been something in those eyes, a sated expression he rarely caught on a woman’s face—not even a sub he’d just satisfied through strict, sometimes painful, stimulating control. That look had drawn on his dominant instincts and stirred his lust in a new, exciting way; so much so, he recalled giving serious consideration to asking her out and breaking his steadfast rule of not dating hospital employees.
Another first for him had been when his friend and surgical partner had introduced the new surgical tech as his wife, and the swift kick to the gut from that announcement did nothing to level off Dax’s interest. Even though a good number of medical professionals of his acquaintance thought nothing of infidelity, he never crossed that line. At least, not without the spouse’s invitation and approval. He had no moral objections to participating in a consensual threesome. Before and after the onetime ménage with Kurt and his wife, Dax had known how much he wanted Krista, and how utterly he’d failed to drive out his forbidden lust with other women. If he spoke with her now, he’d hear the ache of loss in her soft voice and be tempted to pull her into a consoling embrace, something he’d managed to avoid doing the past several months as he and other hospital employees took turns visiting their home and offering their assistance as the couple struggled with Kurt’s disease. After what Dax had done, the role he had played that led up to them standing in this cemetery over Kurt Matthews’s grave, he didn’t have the right to offer Krista comfort of any kind. Worse, he knew from past experience, touching her would result in unleashing his dominant cravings in a way he’d never experienced with another submissive woman.
“Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death; I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
Despite the pleasant seventy-five degree Miami temperature, sweat trickled down his back. As the minister wrapped up the service, Dax found no comfort in the standard prayer. The questions that plagued him about his friend’s death may never be answered, and that would be his cross to bear. A hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention away from the ornate, walnut casket to his best friend Sean’s concerned grey eyes.
“You’re not going to offer any psychology platitudes, are you?” Dax, Sean and his five other close friends came from troublesome childhoods that had landed the seven of them in a summer camp for juvenile delinquents during their teens. Even though the psychologist meant well with his mothering, the shrink’s habit of constantly watching for signs one of them was struggling with past mistakes and tragedies could be annoying.
“Just reminding you we’re all here for you before we take off. Are you going to go to the house, pay your respects to the widow?” Sean asked.
Dax had been pleasantly surprised to see his friends at the funeral, the silent way they joined him for the service then came out here for the burial site eulogy a balm to his tortured conscience. But he was glad they weren’t following him to Kurt’s home. As close as the seven of them were, as well as they knew each other, one or more would be bound to notice his internal struggle when he could no longer avoid offering condolences to Kurt’s widow. He had to keep thinking of Krista in those terms to keep her at the arm’s length he needed her to be, where his conscience demanded she stayed.
“Yes. I won’t remain long as there’s a lot of family here. I plan on giving her your card. She may need someone who understands, since she lost her Master along with her husband.”
“You could help her there, eventually.”
“No, I can’t, and don’t ask me why. Thanks for coming.” Turning to face the others, Dax included Zach, Miles, Jackson, and the Carlson brothers in his appreciation. “It means a lot, you guys coming today. Kurt was a friend as well as an associate. He’ll be missed.”
“We’ll get together soon, poker or a play party, your choice,” Jackson suggested as the crowd started to disperse, and Dax saw Krista’s black-clad, slender form walking toward the limousine.
“Sounds good. Thanks, guys.”
Pulling up in front of the Matthews home fifteen minutes later, Dax opted to park in front of the white-brick ranch to keep from getting pinned in by other guests. Cutting the engine of his vintage Corvette convertible, he sat a moment, trying to get his act together before he entered the house where he’d had the most intense and satisfying sexual experience of his life. He cursed as he thought of the length of time since that one night, and the attempts he’d made to put distance between him and the one woman he couldn’t seem to forget.
But that night hadn’t been the first time he’d visited Kurt’s home, or walked out driven by an ache for his friend’s wife he couldn’t suppress. Like today, it had been a pleasant February afternoon when he’d stopped by with a CT scan of a patient they’d been conferring on, after calling ahead first to get his opinion on the best treatment plan. Stepping inside the sprawling house in the well-to-do neighborhood, he’d known Krista was Kurt’s wife, as well as the penchant for BDSM Dax and his colleague shared in common. What he hadn’t known was that the woman he continued to fantasize about every time she was assigned to assist him in the OR, relished living as her husband’s full-time submissive.
“Dax, come on in.” Dr. Kurt Matthews held his door open and Dax stepped inside, clutching the scan in his hand. A part of him knew this was a mistake. He found being in the same operating room with Krista Matthews difficult enough, seeing her in the home she shared with her husband would be tantamount to rubbing salt on an open wound, but he refused to let his libido get in the way of his job. Giving his patients the best care possible had always come first, which was why he had set aside his misgivings and phoned ahead to let Kurt know he needed a second opinion on William Henderson’s case.
“Thanks for making time to go over this with me, Kurt.” Handing him the medical report, Dax kept his eyes on his friend, resisting the urge to look around for Krista. “I’ve got him scheduled for a double bypass in two days, but now I’m debating over whether I should do a triple. I hate cases like this that could go either way, especially when it’s an eighty-two-year-old man with his history.”
“You can’t discount the risk of a major coronary on the table,” Kurt said, holding up the heart scan to the light as he walked into a great room. “Give me a minute here. Can I get you something? A beer?”
“I wouldn’t say no.” But I should, Dax thought when Kurt called out for his wife.
“Krista, bring us a couple of beers, please.”
There was a second of silence before her soft voice echoed with her reply. “Be right there, Sir.”
Shit. The title of respect she tacked on told Dax just how far the Matthews took their Dom/sub relationship, something he hadn’t considered when he’d decided to interrupt the weekend with work. Or had he suspected, and allowed curiosity and the non-stop growing desire for forbidden fruit to lead him here today? Dax didn’t care for that possibility. He didn’t cross certain lines when indulging in his dominant proclivities and wouldn’t start now, no matter how tempted. But the sight of Kurt’s wife entering the room wearing nothing but a thigh skimming, light blue shift and decorative, blue-suede collar almost coerced a rebuttal of that last thought from him.
He was no novice when it came to admiring a submissive woman, but his instant, adolescent physical response as he watched her pad across the hardwood floor and saw her in something other than baggy, hospital scrubs for the first time, made him feel like one. What sane man could look away from those slender legs or the pierced nipples easily seen through the sheer garment?
“Pretty, isn’t she?” Kurt asked, bending to kiss her as she handed one of the beers to Dax.
“Very. Thank you, Krista.” He took the bottle from her slender hand, their fingers skimming before he pulled back as if burned. Her blue eyes widened, as if the friction had shocked her also, before she lowered them in deference to her role in the household.
“Sit down a minute, Dax.” Kurt settled in a wide recliner and, as if it was the most natural thing for her to do, Krista knelt at his feet, sitting back on her heels and lacing her fingers together behind her.
The position pushed her chest out, stretching the thin material against the metal loops adorning her nipples. A pretty blush stole up her neck and spread over her face as she widened her knees, and the short slip rode up far enough to reveal an enticing glimpse of denuded, plump folds.
Perfect. That was the only thought in Dax’s head as he tilted the cold bottle up to his mouth and relished the relief rushing down his dry throat. For months, he’d been wondering what it was about this one unattainable woman that he found more appealing than any other who had crossed his path in the fifteen plus years he’d been indulging in a BDSM lifestyle. Then she looked up at her husband. A search for approval accompanied the eagerness to please suffused on her face and went with the love shining in her bright blue eyes. She’d glowed with that same look when Kurt had first introduced her as his wife, just minutes after Dax had decided to break his rule about not dating co-workers and planned to ask her out—an expression every dominant man strove to produce on their submissive.
Dax had only himself to blame for succumbing to temptation six months later, and if he had it to do all over again, he would refuse Kurt’s invitation to gift his wife with a ménage for her twenty-eighth birthday. That night may not have been the first time he’d had the pleasure of seeing the dark-haired, full-time submissive all but naked and on her knees, but it had been the one and only time he’d touched that soft, alabaster skin, felt the pillowy cushion of her lips wrapped around his cock, and heard her mewls of pleasure as she climaxed. He had to admit, though, that first time he’d seen her had packed almost as big of a wallop to his dominant libido as the few times he’d spotted the couple at the new BDSM club, Chains, since then, and the one time he’d caved to his desire and fucked her.
“Do you have plans tomorrow night?” Kurt asked Dax as they changed out of their scrubs in the doctors’ locker room.
Tired after the twelve-hour day he’d put in, Dax answered with an absent-minded reply. “Not yet. I’m just glad I’m not on call this weekend. You?”
“I made sure I wasn’t put on the rotation. It’s Krista’s birthday and I want to surprise her with something different.”
Dax’s gut clenched, like it always did whenever Kurt talked about his wife. “You’ve been together for a while. I’m surprised there’s still anything left for you two to try.” That was a lie, as there would always be something new with a woman like Krista, but he had to do something to dampen his interest, didn’t he?
“Yeah, I’m a lucky bastard. She not only loves me despite our twenty-year age difference, but she’s the sub I’d all but given up hope of ever finding. Which is why I want to give back to her with a ménage tomorrow night. But in private, at our home, not the club. You in?”
Because of how badly he wanted to say yes, Dax hedged. He’d been trying to fuck out the image of Krista kneeling as Kurt’s submissive for months now, and nothing and no one had worked. He knew if he touched her, there would be no way to get over his unholy obsession. Kurt must’ve seen the denial on his face as he paused, because he stripped Dax of his refusal before he could even come up with one.
“I wouldn’t trust my wife’s well-being or her pleasure to anyone but you. I know your reputation, Dax, and I think she’ll be comfortable with you, more so now that she’s assigned only to the orthopedic cases.”
Dax had been both relieved and disappointed over Krista’s promotion to first-scrub on the orthopedic team. He rarely saw her now, and then just in passing. Out-of-sight-out-of-mind had been working to assist him in getting his priorities straight and his dick under control, and now this. But he couldn’t let Kurt disappoint Krista, or risk asking someone who would take advantage of her willingness to please.
Knowing it would be yet another mistake, but unable to stop himself, Dax agreed. “I’ll be there. What time?”
“Thanks. See you at eight?”
“That works.”
Dax had no one but himself to blame for getting in over his head. As he parked in the Matthews’ circular drive the next evening, he’d had twenty-four hours to change his mind and come up with an excuse not to show up tonight. His blood rushed through his veins, spiking his adrenaline as he walked up to the front door. Mistake or not, right or wrong, he couldn’t turn down this chance to be included in giving Krista a special birthday treat. Following Kurt’s invitation to enter, he strolled into the large den thinking he was prepared to see her in her submissive role again. He was wrong.
Krista knelt on the braided throw rug in the middle of the room, naked, with her wrists bound together between her breasts and attached to her collar. Dax tamped down the compulsion to stride over and lay claim to her. Not mine, he reminded himself as Kurt entered from the hall carrying a multi-strand flogger.
“There you are.” A look of relief passed over the other man’s face, making Dax wonder if he’d thought he wouldn’t show.
“Sorry I’m a little late. Your sub looks pretty in that pose.”
“She’s attractive in whatever position I instruct.” Kurt ran his hand down her long, mahogany hair, this time a flicker of profound sadness flashing in his eyes. “I thought we’d start with a little warm-up. She likes a touch of pain, don’t you, sweetie?”
“Yes, Master.” The small smile trembling on those lush lips stirred Dax’s imagination as he pictured them wrapped around his engorged flesh.
“She might need a little assistance with balance,” Kurt prodded.
“Wouldn’t want her toppling over, would we?” Dax strode over to the couple and clasped Krista’s smooth, round shoulders in his large hands, tightening them just enough to exert his authority. She whipped drenched blue eyes up to him, her pale cheeks turning pink as her husband snapped the flogger across her ass.
“Eyes on me, little one,” Dax instructed when she closed her lids. Small white teeth bit into her lower lip as she gazed up at him, her slim body jerking with the next slash. Her berry nipples tightened around the dainty gold hoop piercings, and he couldn’t resist releasing one shoulder to flick them. Her quick, indrawn breath could’ve been from the stroke of leather against her ass again, or the way he pinched one nipple between thumb and forefinger.
Tearing his eyes away from her attractive, expressive face, he encountered Kurt’s knowing look. “You’ve noticed how responsive she is.”
“Hard not to,” Dax said.
“One more, Krista.” Kurt aimed the flogger at her quivering thighs, drawing a low moan before tossing it aside and reaching for his zipper. “She likes it all ways, so I’ll give you a choice between her mouth or pussy. I’m in an ass mood tonight.”
Dax feared dipping inside that damp pussy this early would be his undoing for the night, so opted for using her mouth. Maintaining his strained control, with those blue eyes pinned up at him as he felt her pouty lips wrapped around his hot flesh, would be difficult enough. Trailing his hand up her neck, he pressed his thumb against her soft, plush, lower lip, then almost came undone when she flicked her small tongue over the fleshy pad.
“Be careful, Mrs. Matthews,” he warned, using her title as a reminder to himself that she would still be off-limits after tonight. Unzipping his loose, summer khakis, he let his thick cock spring into his hand and he gripped the hot, steel-rod of flesh with his left as he stroked down to her damp labia with his right. “It’s a good thing I’m ambidextrous, isn’t it?”
Krista nodded, her eyes lighting with excitement as he spread her slippery folds. It was Kurt’s turn to cup her shoulder, bracing her for the invasion of two lubed fingers. Entering simultaneously, they filled her two orifices to the hilt, her small whimper and reddening face beautiful to hear and see. She held her pose like a pro as they treated her to a rigorous finger-fucking. Thrusting in tandem with Kurt, Dax worked her vagina as he stroked his dick, building heat in both sexual organs until they threatened to singe his hand and fingers. Through it all, her eyes remained on his, her look conveying a need he couldn’t pinpoint yet, but he would.
“Krista has a tendency to push buttons when she’s in one of her needy moods.” Kurt smiled at Dax over his wife’s kneeling posture. “She’s generous to a fault at putting my desires before or above her own, but occasionally her mischievous streak takes over. After two years of marriage, it challenges me to come up with ways to torture her delectable body.”
“You’re a lucky man.” Dax spread his fingers inside her snug sheath, stretching the muscles and adding a bite of discomfort. He could feel Kurt doing the same through the thin layer of tissue separating them. She moaned, thrusting her hips forward, and earned a sharp slap from her husband.
“Be still and tell Dr. Hayes how much you’re enjoying his fingers in your cunt,” Kurt ordered.
Krista’s pink face turned a darker red, but Dax thought the deeper flush was due more to escalating arousal than embarrassment. “Thank you, Doctor. I—” She ended on a sharp cry when he tugged on her clit, his intention to stop her from verbalizing her appreciation. He didn’t want or deserve gratitude for participating in giving her pleasure tonight. If she knew how much he wanted this—and her—she most likely would have refused this birthday present. From what he could tell, the twenty-year difference in their ages hadn’t stood in the way of her constant devotion to her spouse.
“You’re welcome, and happy birthday, Krista.” Keeping his fingers embedded inside her, Dax thrust the seeping crown of his cock against her lips. Those bright blue eyes lit up with pleasure as she opened her mouth. “Sorry, Kurt, I can’t wait forever for you.”
“No sweat, I’m on board.”
Kurt entered her back channel with a slow push as Dax slid past her lips and her warm, damp mouth took him in. She closed her eyes at the dual penetration, her slender frame shuddering in delicate acceptance of their possession. He didn’t reprimand her, figuring she needed a moment to adjust to this new experience. If she were his sub, he’d have the option, and pleasure, of punishing her later, but she wasn’t, and he didn’t. Besides that, her face suffused with bliss as soon as she opened for him, her look one of total concentration on servicing rather than on receiving. One fucking big turn-on.
Dax’s abdominals tightened into a solid knot with that thought, and an urgency to end this as strong as the desire to take part took hold. Torture, that’s what her silken mouth, soft lips and stroking tongue felt like as she laved his girth with damp caresses around and around, then, as he pulled back, up and down. Her lips compressed around his root, her cheeks going hollow as she sucked even harder against his withdrawal, that appearance of deep, concentrated pleasure damn near ball-busting.
“Shit, you could’ve warned me how good she is at giving head,” he growled, flipping his friend a stern look. “Your fault if I don’t wait for you.”
“Krista, do not come until I say. If you do, you’ll get five strokes with the cane.”
Her shudder and the quick way her rosy face paled told Dax how much that threat worried her. “Not a fan of the cane, I assume?”
“She’ll take it if I’m in the mood, but I save it to use as leverage as she enjoys everything else too much.” The first part of his reply was another hint Krista was a sub who ached to please, the second part was responsible for the wicked twinkle in Kurt’s eyes that held a wealth of pleasure over her acceptance of his other, punishing tools.
Picturing the different implements available to torment a sub’s ass with urged Dax to fuck her mouth faster. Still working her pussy, Kurt’s deep, pummeling thrusts added to the pleasurable torture they heaped upon her. Her berry nipples had darkened to a crimson hue and her cream gushed over his fingers, proof of how much servicing their two cocks excited her. A fucking wet dream. Desperate now for both relief and to put space between him and an unattainable temptation, Dax commanded an end to her tortuous teasing.
“Suck me, Krista.”
He almost withdrew that order when she pulled up with a tight draw, her tongue tracing over rigid veins, setting off hot licks of pleasure that threatened to sear his shaft. He noticed Kurt tightening his hold on her shoulder as his surges into her ass increased. Her eyes flew open when Dax’s cock jerked, then filled with satisfaction and longing when she stroked under the rim of his head and pressed her tongue against the most sensitive area on a man’s penis. Gritting his teeth, he released the base of his cock and reached behind her head to grip her hair.
“Now,” Dax snapped, his tone a guttural whiplash. Keeping her head immobile, he fucked her mouth with steady dips, the slurping sounds from her busy tongue and lips drawing a smile of satisfaction from her husband he would later question. His balls drew taut and he could see the frustration crossing her face as she jerked her bound hands. She wanted to touch, but Dax was glad she couldn’t. He could only take so much. That fact proved true when she nipped at his flesh, tiny pinpricks of pain that forced his climax to erupt in a fierce torrent of heat.
Krista moaned, the low sound vibrating up and down his length as he rode out the pleasure, stilling his fingers inside her for a moment, just until he could get his bearings. Dimly, he heard Kurt’s shout of pleasure followed by the tight grips of her convulsing sheath around his fingers. Drifting down from the incredible high, he slid from her still suckling mouth, marveling at the way his and Kurt’s climaxes had seemed to set off her own.
Krista’s inner muscles continued to grip his fingers as she orgasmed, her keening cry shaking her entire body. Pearly drops of his come decorated the corners of her mouth. Eyes glazed, face flushed, she gazed up at him and licked them off. Hours later, that one expression on her face followed him home, and he knew he wouldn’t soon forget it.
Kurt’s diagnosis of ALS just a few weeks after that night had enabled Dax to keep up the friendly, supportive relationship at work he’d always enjoyed with Krista. But even knowing the hell in store for his friend, and watching the toll it took on her over the past year, he hadn’t been able to forget the sheer satisfaction of fucking her, or to stop from wanting her. Opening his car door, Dax slid out, shoving aside memories best shelved and forgotten. He’d pay his respects and pray he could keep his guilt well-hidden and his hands to himself. There would be no welcome here if Krista knew what he’d done, so it would be best all around if he stepped out of the picture after today. It would mean breaking his promise to Kurt, but better that than adding to the grief she already suffered. The tour with Doctors Without Borders Dax had signed on for would take him far away from temptation for a long enough time to hopefully earn forgiveness and, with any luck, give him a chance to get over the one woman he could never have.
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Buy links-
Blushing Books- https://blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&p=4535
Saturday, November 4, 2017
A Holiday Duet by Thianna D.- Two Fun and Sexy Holiday Tales In A Town Where Spanking Your Spouse Is The Norm #SpankingRomance #Anthology #MF #MM
Blurb
The holiday season is celebrated in many ways. In this Holiday Duet from Corbin’s Bend creator Thianna D., you get two celebrations in one. Benjamin, Jonathon, and Cory are good friends and this holiday season, they receive their own unique gifts.
Cory’s girlfriend Kenzie comes up for the weekend and finally he can show the girl he loves everything Corbin’s Bend has to offer in A Holiday Beginning. In You’ve Been Gifted, Jonathon—overcome with stress—receives an unexpected gift from a Secret Santa and it turns the worst day of the year into possibly the best. Especially when Benjamin sees it.
Join Cory, Kenzie, Jonathon, and Benjamin for a fun, loving, and exceptional holiday. For while the Corbin’s Bend orchestra is mostly heard during the spring and summer, these two couples manage to create a holiday duet of their own.
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