Saturday, July 07, 2012
CHANCE OF A LIFETIME - Portia Da Costa
When Rose takes a temporary job at a dilapidated stately home, while waiting to pursue her dream career in the Caribbean, she doesn't expect to get involved with her mysterious, attractive and rather kinky boss... The Marquis.
At seven o’clock, I’m staring at the door to the little sitting room. It was half in my mind not to turn up. To try and pretend that what happened beyond that slab of oak never happened. But doing that would be to miss… well… miss the chance of a lifetime. I might never meet a man again who’s into the things that the Marquis is, and I might go through life having perfectly ordinary, perfectly satisfactory sex, but still wondering what it would have been like to try the extraordinary kind with spanking and strange mind-games.
I knock as firmly as I can on the door, and immediately that deep, clear voice calls out “Enter!” from within. Crikey, he already sounds like a stern schoolmaster summoning his tardy pupil.
But there’s nothing fearsome or intimidating when I step into the room and close the door behind me. It’s cozy and welcoming, with a nice little fire burning in the grate to ward off the unseasonal damp chill. The thick curtains are drawn, and soft lamps emit a friendly golden glow that flatters the fine old furniture and makes it gleam.
It flatters the Marquis too, not that he needs it. He looks stunning.
He’s in all in black again, as ever. Tight black jeans embrace his long legs, and the splendid lean musculature of his thighs and his backside. As he rises to his feet from the depths of one of the armchairs, I imagine, for a fleeting second, spanking him!
Blood fills my cheeks in a raging blush, and I falter and hang back. A huge waft of guilt rushes through me at even thinking that. I open my mouth, but I can’t speak, and he smiles at me.
“Come on in, Rose. Would you like a drink?” I notice that he has a glass with something clear and icy set on a little table beside his chair. Vodka? Water? Gin? Who knows...
“Um... er... yes.” I flick my glance to the sideboard and a few bottles, but I can’t seem to compute what’s there so I just say, “Whatever you’re having... please.
“Good choice... and do sit down.” He gesture like Renaissance courtier towards a free chair by the fire, and watches me as I make my way there, terrified I’ll trip or something, despite the fact my heels aren’t high or spindly.
I take my seat, and watch him mix my drink, swiftly combining clear spirit, ice, mixer and a sliver of lemon. He prepares the concoction perfectly, despite the fact that he’s studying me intently almost all the time.
I’ve dressed carefully.
Jeans are awkward to wriggle out of, especially if you’ve got a curvy bottom like mine, so I’ve chosen a soft, full summer skirt that almost sweeps the floor. A mini skirt would be too obvious, not lady-like and as I’m here with an aristocrat, I’m compelled to make an effort to be worthy of him.
On my top half I’ve got a little buttoned camisole, pink to match the skirt, and a light cotton cardigan over that, to keep out the chills. My shoes are low-heeled and quite pretty, and underneath I’m wearing my best and sexiest underwear.
I aim to please...
The Marquis comes across and hands me my drink, then retreats to his own chair. There’s a moment of silence, tense for me, but apparently totally relaxed for him, and I snatch the opportunity to feast my eyes on his gorgeousness.
He sits so elegantly, even though he’s totally at ease. Long legs out in front of him, booted feet crossed.
Hell, yes! They do something visceral inside me. They make me shudder and my sex clench and seem to twist and flutter with their connotations of masterfulness. They’re old and soft and well polished and not all that tall, but all the same, I almost feel faint just looking at them.
And I get mostly the same feeling from the rest of him.
He’s got the most exquisite black silk shirt on, full of sleeve and so fluid it seems to float on his body. The collar’s fastened up for the moment, but I have the most intense urge to crawl on my hands and knees across the room and rip it open so I can kiss his throat and his chest and suck his nipples.
And not just his nipples.
His thick black hair is shiny with a fresh washed satin-sheen and his fine boned face has the delicious gleam of a recent shave.
Bless him, he’s made as much of an effort for me as I have for him. Another reason to worship and adore him.
CHANCE OF A LIFETIME is part of the 12 Shades of Surrender promotion by Mills and Boon.
Available from eHarlequin, Mills & Boon, Books on Board,Fictionwise, All Romance eBooks, Diesel eBook Store, Amazon Kindle UK, Amazon Kindle and Sony Ebook Store.
Friday, March 16, 2012
When Alice Porter finds a chest full of vintage curiosa at an antique market, she little realizes how her discovery of the forgotten treasures of an Edwardian disciplinarian will change her life. The sexy hoard includes a punishment ledger and a well used rattan cane, and the bygone items intrigue her husband Julian too.
Sharing and experimenting with the writings and the wicked implement, the lovers begin a voyage of forbidden sensuality that shocks and thrills them both, revealing dark secrets from Julian's past and bringing the two of them closer together than they've ever been before.
You have done this before, haven't you?
For a moment, Alice was distracted, unfocused. Who was the woman? Who had he punished?
Then Julian stroked the inside of her wrist with a fingertip, making everything right again, with a secret touch hidden in the game. He was with her now. He'd always be with her. This was what mattered, not the past.
Feeling as ungainly and gangling as a naughty, coltish girl, Alice did her best to obey him, almost tripping over the tangled clothing around her ankles. When she did get settled, she had the most precarious fear that she was going to topple head first off her husband's lap and onto the carpet. But instead, he held her firmly with a securing hand on her back, whilst presumably he studied the contours of her bottom.
"Ready then?" Both voice and fingertips were gentle as they cruised her bare skin. His exploration made her quiver again. "Do you understand why I have to do this?"
It was as if they were performing a ritual, each in their role, each serious, but also humming with desire. Alice nodded, and muttered a "yes", while her heart pounded and her mind filling with a very complex understanding indeed, a comprehension that went far beyond the simple shadow-play of punishment for misbehavior.
"Ouch!" she yelped as the first smack fell on her right buttock, and all her preconceptions about what it might have felt like came crashing down with Julian's hand.
Bloody hell, it hurts. It really hurts. I thought it was just going to feel like a gentle tap.
Moisture filled her eyes as a second, even crisper blow landed. Involuntarily, she groaned, squirming and shuffling on Julian's lap.
Dear God, how it smarted. How it stung. As more smacks descended in a fast and steady rhythm, it didn't take long before all of Alice's cheeks were flaming. Her dangling face was pink as a peony with a blend of embarrassment and excitement, and her bottom was so hot and throbbing that she was sure its entire surface was red and blotchy.
How have you learnt to do this? You must have picked it up somewhere. Don't tell me it's pure instinct. You know this.
The thoughts bobbed in her brain as her husband belabored her with skill and vigor. He was patterning the spanks around her cheeks, forming meticulous, overlapping circles and leaving no inch of flesh free of their fiery coverage. It was a master class and when her buttocks were pink and roasted, he tipped her body further forward and then aimed a volley of intensive wallops at the delicate under-hang; a zone so tender and thin‑skinned that it made her squeal in a way that she would have found hilarious in some other circumstance.
"Now, now, my dearest," Julian said, his voice sounding like the very essence of Edwardian authority as he continued to spank and spank and spank, "Don't make such a fuss. This is good for you, you know."
Available from Smashwords, Amazon Kindle US, Amazon Kindle UK, All Romance eBooks, Sony Ebooks, Kobo Ebooks, Barnes and Noble Nook and Diesel eBooks
Friday, March 09, 2012
But it's not easy to forget about love and sex when everyone around her at the resort is getting in on. Pretty soon, she's using her binoculars to spy on creatures a bit higher up the evolutionary scale than birds - mainly the hot threesome in one of the adjacent cabanas, and the gorgeously hunky gay couple who are also staying just across the courtyard.
These two delicious men especially fire her senses and make her forget her romantic woes, and when she realises that they're watching her while she's watching them, what else is a girl to do but accept the invitation of a lifetime, and become part of a threesome herself?
But what if her luscious faux honeymoon menage is only the beginning of better and hotter things to come?
Laurie has accepted an invitation to dinner with gorgeous Ed and Denny, the two men she observed making love the night before. Very quickly, she realizes they're both kindly and sympathetic to her plight... and also that they're eager and happy to pleasure her, as well as each other!
But this was completely different. A desire and an adventure she'd never be able to overlook or forget. If only she had the boldness to reach out and grab it.
Do you dare?
Yes, I do! I do!
Reaching up, she dug her fingers into Denny's silky curls, and opened her mouth to his, meeting his tongue when it plunged in, warm and hungry.
Yes! Not two but three silent voices seemed to chorus the word; those of the men, cheering her on, and her own inner voice proud of her own courage.
Denny kissed hard, kissed hungry, kissed dominant. Again, savoring his onslaught, Laurie almost wanted to laugh at the misleading quality of appearances. His fey, pale clothes and golden looks concealed the heart of a predator, and even the fact that he'd "received" last night probably only meant he'd demanded that his partner service his needs.
He held on tight to her, a hand at the nape of her neck, another on her shoulder, making her accept his kiss in a thrilling, primal way. He tasted of wine and honey and new beginnings.
And all the time, Ed was at work too, at first gently kissing her hand as if it were a holy artifact, but then, suddenly, on the move. As Denny kissed and subdued her, Ed began exploring. Still kneeling, he settled his hands on her thighs, one each, on the outside surfaces, slowly sliding them upwards, then down again, and then up, tantalizing her. Laurie sighed into Denny's mouth, feeling the urge to open her legs, and lift her bottom, to allow Ed more access.
"Good girl," whispered Denny, his lips starting to roam too, as he gently pushed her so she was leaning against the woven back of the settee. He kissed her brow, her cheek, and a sensitive spot beneath her ear, then tracked down the side of her neck, on and on down until he nipped at a spot just above her collarbone. As his sharp teeth plagued her, Ed's hands were down below, sliding between her thighs, urging her to open her legs, and to open her heart and self to the pair of them.
"Relax," urged Denny, still nibbling. Laurie could feel his fingers at work at the nape of her neck, then before she had time to stop him -- not that she wanted to -- he unfastened her halter top. Peeling it down, he exposed her breasts in her flimsy strapless bra.
If you want some more Portia at a bargain price, POWER OF THREE is also available as part of a value anthology, along with three other stories! So if you fancy a couple of short erotic tales and BDSM erotic romance novella as a side order with your menage, please try EROTIC ESCAPADES instead for just 39 cents [or 32p] extra! ;)
Available from Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, All Romance eBooks, Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
When Megan meets Sebastian Holmwood at a fancy dress party, she little realizes how her life is going to change. Sebastian is a beautiful and unusual man with an irresistible dark mystique about him. The glint in his silver blue eyes, and the velvet rasp of his deep baritone voice make her want to do crazy things. Suddenly she finds herself longing to play perverse erotic games almost beyond her imagination. She wants Sebastian to spank her, touch her, dominate her, take her over in every way possible... and she knows that with him, the pleasure she earns will blow her mind.
Sebastian Holmwood is a dominant master who's never quite found his perfect submissive... until he meets Megan, dressed as Little Bo Peep, and carrying a crook that looks suspiciously like a punishment cane. Something about Megan's blend of naivety and mischief, and her bold willingness to follow his lead, speak to his dominant soul as a never before, and he knows he won't rest until he's spanked her and much, much more.
Mozart played on softly, but all of a sudden I was in a new and surreal dimension. Sebastian Holmwood could control me with the very slightest gesture, and as he walked smoothly towards the settee, then sat down just a yard or so away from me, I turned to face him, my head meekly bowed. He was lower than me, seated whilst I was standing, but in all things he had the upper hand.
"So, Megan Chambers, do you want to understand? Our friends downstairs are woefully ignorant. You know that, don't you?" He reached out, took hold of both of my hands, and then held them in one of his. He let his free hand slide lightly down my hip, tracing its approximate shape through my costume's fluffy petticoats. Sensing that he required it, I looked up and met his eyes, realizing he was a little older, and far wiser, than I'd originally thought he was. I nodded, knowing instinctively what I'd let myself in for, and feeling both fear and curiosity in equal parts.
"Good," he said with a thoughtful smile, then let his hand slip beneath my skirt and petticoats. "Are you wearing anything beneath these?" He plucked at the long, lace trimmed mock Victorian pantaloons that peeked out from beneath my hem, then flattened his hand, slipped it upwards, and cupped the rounded cheek of my bottom.
"N... No," I quavered as he squeezed. I'd expected to get the costume grubby at the party, and as I'd be laundering the whole thing anyway, I'd decided to be naughty and go without any extra knickers.
"Excellent!" His eyes gleamed. "Now lift up all these skirts up for me. There's a good girl." He released my hands and nodded to my Bo Peep dress and all the frippery beneath it.
Sebastian didn't speak, but his cool old-fashioned look spoke volumes. Trembling, I reached for my hem, then hauled up my skirts and held the whole lot in a haphazard bunch at my waist.
"Back and front," he specified. I obeyed with a graceless scrabble, and then closed my eyes as he gripped my pantaloons, whipping them down to my knees with one smooth, efficient jerk.
"Lovely," he said softly. I could almost feel the weight of his gaze on the curly triangle of my sex, like a radiant therapy that made my hidden folds heat. "Now turn around for me."
Shuffling, I presented my bottom, keenly aware of its plump, curvaceous shape.
"Perfect." His voice was a whisper and I heard the leather upholstery creak as he shifted position. I was quite disappointed that he didn't try to touch me.
"Open your eyes."
Again, I did as I was told, aware that my whole face was one big blush.
Sebastian was sitting comfortably on the sofa, his posture strong-looking, his knees spread a little apart. "Do you know what to do?" he asked. The gleam in his eyes was like starlight.
I bit my lip. I knew, but I couldn't say it.
"Come on. It's easy. Come across my knee. I won't bite you."
I wasn't worried about him biting.
Slowly, cautiously, I laid myself across his lap, letting his hands guide me into exactly the right position. My balance seemed precarious, and I felt vulnerable and dizzy, with my head down and my bottom rudely up. I couldn't imagine how I'd let myself get into this pickle. What the devil had I been thinking of? One minute I'd been flirting lightly with a moderately attractive man; and the next I was face down across his knee, about to let him spank my bare buttocks. How could I have been so reckless, so foolish? How could I have been so completely insane?
The answer was that against all reason, I trusted Sebastian Holmwood; perhaps more than I'd ever trusted anyone in my life.