IN SEBASTIAN'S HANDS - excerpt

A BDSM love story in three acts 

 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.

Excerpt:

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.

"But..."

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.

"Turn again."

I complied.

"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.

And I moaned like a wanton, as if it had been all my idea in the first place, when Sebastian started touching me.

IN SEBASTIAN'S HANDS is available from All Romance eBooks, Smashwords, Diesel Ebooks, Amazon Kindle UK and Amazon Kindle US

NO LONGER FORBIDDEN - mini excerpt

Reaching up, I slip my fingers around the back of his head again, relishing the soft silkiness of his dark curls. His hair is longer now, and I glory in that. It feels gorgeous to the touch as I draw his face to mine and start kissing his mouth, exploring it with little nibbles and darts of my tongue.

Mr. Laurence. Beautiful Mr. Laurence. My fantasy man. Here. Now. For real.

Even though I’ve taken the initiative, within a heartbeat he owns it again. His arms slide around me, hands roving, while his mouth matches mine in a contest of sexy little forays, flicks of the tongue, nips and probes. With his lips against my ear, I feel the heat of his breath on my neck, as he whispers, “You are everything I dreamed about, Annie. All these years… I thought I’d got over you, but I never did, you were still there, always at the back of my mind. Like a beautiful perfume caught in my brain, always reminding me of what I’d wanted but couldn’t have.”

I blink as we kiss. His thoughts are my thoughts. His feelings the same. For an instant, I ache for the wasted years, but then realize, maybe I wasn’t ready until now.

“But you can have me now. And I can have you,” I whisper boldly against his neck, opening my mouth on the words, tasting the clean, vaguely salt flavor of his skin.

“Hell yes,” he growls, his hand on my bottom, massaging, working my pelvis against his erection, “I’d do a ‘me Tarzan, you Jane’ and pick you up and carry you into the bedroom, but my leg is pretty much just screwed together in places and I don’t want to falter and drop you.”

“I’m happy to walk…” Pausing, I nip at his soft lower lip, then laugh, “In fact, I’ll run there, then strip off and wait for you, if you like?”

“Wicked girl,” he purrs, taking control of the kiss and pushing his tongue into my mouth, hot and wild and thrilling.

Available from eHarlequin, Fictionwise, Books on Board Sony Ebook Store and Amazon Kindle

No Longer Forbidden by Portia Da Costa
Harlequin Spice Briefs ® 2009 ISBN 9781426836367
© 2009 Portia Da Costa
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher

Another Chance - micro taster

ANOTHER CHANCE is linked to Chance of a Lifetime.

Archivist Maud Piper has already had one sexy voyeuristic encounter with estate steward William Graves... and now she want more, a lot more, of the big, beautiful, forbidding man...

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Still, my heart beats hard. And down below, the slow stir of desire rolls in my loins. From within the cottage, there’s a faint clanking sound, metal on metal. What the hell is he doing? The door is stout, and the walls look thick, so I don’t hear footsteps. But a moment later, the heavy iron handle turns and the door swings ajar.

William Graves stands in the opening, looking me over with silent watchfulness, apparently unsurprised.

Moments tick by and I open my mouth to speak, but he pre-empts me.

“Come in out of the cold… I’ve been expecting you.”

My pulse races and my desire twists hard. He knows! He knows what I want! And he’s ready…

I follow him into the softly lit room and discover what the clanking was. Furniture is pushed aside in the small room, and a collection of ponderous looking free weights are laid out on the carpet in front of the blazing open fire. Without speaking, William hauls them aside, one after the other. He’s naked to the waist, wearing only combat trousers and a pair of work boots, and his skin gleams like beaten bronze in the flickering light. Still without a word, he drags a couple of battered and hefty looking easy chairs closer to the hearth and indicates that I should sit down, first gesturing in his spare, economical way for me to hand over my hat and coat. He looms over me while I struggle with normally easy fastenings, his big delicious body pushing all my buttons.

William Graves is younger than me, possibly by a decade, but something in his dark, navy blue eyes is as old as eternity. What happened to him, I wonder as I shrug out of my coat and pass it across. It’s not only his solid arms and his deep chest that are hard. He has an intrinsic hardness, a granite of the spirit.

Without asking me what I want, he pours generous slugs of Glenmorangie into a couple of cheap glasses, and hands one over.

“So how can I help you?”

“About last night…”

The two phrases come out simultaneously, and it’s like an unseen bubble bursts. We both laugh and the tension is gone. The whisky tastes good when I finally take a sip.

He nods, giving me precedence.

“What happened last night… I just wanted to say that I liked it. I liked it very much. I was… um…” Despite my superficial confidence, I falter… “I was hoping we might, well, follow up on it. Do more…”

His brows shoot up, and his cool eyes brighten and warm. He takes a long pull at his drink, then rubs a big hand over his short, dark brown hair as if genuinely puzzled… and admiring.

“You’re very direct, aren’t you?” he says softly.