Happy Halloween

I feel like I’m in a time warp. Yesterday, it was May and I was releasing Spring Training. Now, it’s freaking HALLOWEEN and Shadow of Sin releases in ONE WEEK! Then, just a few weeks after that, we will be celebrating an anniversary here at Love, Lust and Laptops.

These are all wonderful, beautiful things … but still. Time warp. 🙂

Okay, back to my topic for today. It’s Halloween. All Hallows’ Eve. A night when ghosts come out and roam among the living – or when kids take to the streets and pedal for candy – depending on which lore you follow. Either way, it’s a night of costumes, sugary goodness, and things that go bump in the night.

I’ve just returned from a ten-day vacationIMG_2448 that took me to twelve different states. One of the greatest things I saw is fitting for a day like today. It was a tiny graveyard. Nothing special about that, right? Wrong. This graveyard was attached to a Duncan Donuts. Of course, on the east coast, you can’t spit without hitting a Duncan Donuts … but I’m going to guess the graveyard was there first.

I love old graveyards. I’ve been to cemetaries from Salem to Savannah and all over the west, I’ve seen some very interesting headstones. Women who’d been burned at the stake, men killed in a duel and outlaws who’d been shot in the back. I don’t know why I’m so fascinated, but I can lose myself wandering the rows, easily losing track of my time as I step into theirs. 525867_2449899183067_1161695156_nMy one regret on my recent trip was I didn’t go into an awesome looking graveyard I drove by in New Castle, NH. It had a sign on one side that read “Prospector’s Burial Ground” and was adorned by two iron doors, turned green with age, and couldn’t have been more than 3-4 feet in height. Maybe next time.

What are your favorite things about All Hallows’ Eve? Do you have any special traditions?

Whatever you’re doing tonight, may you all be safe and free from ghostly pranks!

Until next time…don’t forget. November 6th for Shadow of Sin! Caleb will be waiting for you!

A whirlwind two weeks!

I hope you all enjoyed the Love in the Cards event as much as we enjoyed putting it together for you! The eBook anthology should be ready for download soon, and of course we can’t wait to share that with you all as well.

For me, a lot has been going on during the last two weeks while the event was happening.

hostilebeauty-510Hostile Beauty, my M/M retelling of Beauty and the Beast, released on the 18th, and it has been a roaring success, hitting bestseller lists at Amazon and ARe, so thank you, thank you, dear readers, for reading my guys!

The Dark Collector Cover 1600I’m finalizing The Dark Collector for it’s official release next month, and there are already review copies in the wild, and reviews cropping up on Goodreads. My next blog date here at LL&L, I’ll be able to share buy links, because it releases on the 13th!

While I didn’t attend GRL 2013, it was local to me, so I got to swing by and have dinner with fellow LL&L author Lynn Lorenz, which was lovely! I also got to surprise one of my very favorite authors, Amy Lane, with a bit of hand-knit fan art–the frogs from her book Clear Water. It was so fun to connect with friends, if even briefly, over the course of that weekend.

I’m gearing up to do NaNoWriMo next month, working on a farcical M/M romantic comedy and giving myself an excuse to be as silly as possible and remember all the things I love about writing.

Lastly, a not so lucky me has come down with some evil cough/cold thing which has pretty much had me confined to the house for the past week, so I haven’t been particularly active on Facebook or Twitter as I’ve been reading a lot and not sitting at my desk where the work AND the procrastination happen. But hopefully I’ll be on the mend soon and will see you all around the internet, up to our usual shenanigans. 😀

All the best!

xoxo,

V

 

 

Teaser…

I started a new blog on my site that I titled Tuesday’s Tease. I figured it would force me to keep up and at least post something once a week. 🙂 I mean no matter how boring my life may feel on any given day, there’s always some snippet I could post from whatever I’m writing! hehe *devious laughter*

So, this week I’m working on the edits for the first of my BDSM series. The book is titled Bound to be Taken. It releases April 4 with Samhain Publishing. It’s long and it’s raw and it’s consuming me. So, y’all get a little piece of the page I’m currently on. Hope you enjoy. 😉

Aiden plopped down on the sofa, not releasing her hand. “Kneel on the floor in front of me.” His words were suddenly deeper, gentler, softer, but held a command that seemed incongruent.

Stephanie’s breath stuttered. She shouldn’t be reacting to his demand so forcefully. She knew it deep down inside her, but she couldn’t stop her body’s reaction.

Dane pressed on her shoulders from behind. He brushed her hair to one side and leaned in to her ear. “It’s just role playing. A sample. Give it a try. You might even like it.” He kissed her neck. She tipped her head to one side to give him better access without even pausing to stop herself.

He kissed my neck? She was fucked.

His lips were so soft, and his breath wafted over her shoulder and ear all at once, melting her insides.

 

That Pearly Drop, Murphy’s Laws of Time Travel #1

That_Pearly_Drop-Jianne_Carlo-200x320Isn’t the cover of my latest romance delish? I’m so excited about this book, my first time-travel paranormal.

Here’s the tagline :
What do the hounds of hell, time travel, a murdered girl, a coach ticket to Wye Castle, and a governess letter of employment have to do with waking up in 1763, the mate of wolf-shifter, Ian, the Earl of Wye? Emma’s about to find out.

Blurb: Emma knows time travel’s impossible. So, the only other explanation for her going to sleep on Halloween night in 2013 and waking up in Wales in the year 1763 is that she’s insane. There’s a murdered girl, a coach ticket to Wye Castle, and a letter of employment to be governess to the Earl of Wye’s daughter. What’s a gal to do but go with the flow?

Wolf-shifter Ian, Earl of Wye, recognizes Emma as his mate instantly and senses she’s in danger. He knows Emma’s harboring a deep, dark secret. But, no matter what he does, she won’t confide in him. Then he finds Emma wounded and rambling about nine white gorgons who attacked her. The hounds of hell are Ian’s nemeses, and the fact they’ve reappeared in the mortal world after centuries of banishment can only mean one thing…

That_Pearly_Drop-Jianne_Carlo-banner-468x60

And here are Murphy’s first 36 Laws of Time Travel:

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #1: Time travel is impossible—until it happens.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #2: It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, present, or future—the first person to fall into a pond is always the one who can’t swim.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #3: It doesn’t matter what century you’re in—sometimes you simply have to close your eyes and jump into the frying pan, or in this case, the murky pond.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #4: Colloquialisms will trip you up in every time (pun intended).

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #5: High society women eat like humming birds in every fricking century.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #6: Honesty is the best policy except if you’re in the wrong century.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #7: Playing a character in the past is harder than it looks in the present on TV, or is that the future if you’re stuck in 1763?

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #8: In 1763, thinking on your feet isn’t as important as thinking in your bed.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law 9: Lust clouds your thinking in any century.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #10: Unreality is preferable to believing time travel is possible if you’re trapped in the wrong century.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #11: There are no returns in time travel, so it’s best to avoid buyer’s remorse.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #12: Silence is your friend, but time travel gives you verbal diarrhea.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #13: An orgasm in the past is lost in the present and never achieved in the future, but the here and now orgasms rock!

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #14: A lie in the past can get you into just as much hot water as a lie in the present, which in this case happens to be in the past.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #15: In any century, if there’s an old biddy in the room, she’ll sharpen her claws on you and find some flaw to improve.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #16: Even in the past, eavesdroppers never hear any good about themselves.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #17: You don’t want to play truth or dare when you’re pretending to be someone else in any century.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #18: In any century, you have to cover your tracks when you assume someone else’s identity.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #19: Total amnesia is better than memories that aren’t true.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #20: While living in the past, if you used to live in the future, you really don’t want your future told.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #21: In any century, nursery rhymes are no solace when you’re confronted by blood-spewing monster-gorgons.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #22: Boob-pinchers are the scum of the planet in the past, present, and the future.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #23: The word boob fascinates all men in all times.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #24: Trying to find a win-win solution in the past should be easy if you’re a time traveller  because you know the future, but if you’re in the past, are you in the present? Corollary: Will the past/present affect the future that’s already happened?

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #25: The other woman is a bitch in any century.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #26: Tea for two, and two for tea, sweetened with lies of the past, present, and future can only result in utter disaster.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #27: It’s impossible to predict who’ll shoot whom in any time.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #28: Rakes have preyed on women in the past and the present. Corollary: It’s Powerball odds they’ll continue to do so in the future.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #29: EpiPens are a gal’s best friend in any century.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #30: In any century, when you’re battling zombies, hobgoblins can be your best allies.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #31: Betrayal hurts in any century.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #32: When three coincidences collide, evil’s afoot in any century.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #33: Pinky swears are valid in the past, the present, and the future.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #34: Maggots, it turns out, are your friend in any century. Go figure.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #35: In the past, a gift duchess is worth more than a gift horse when you’re accused of witchcraft.

Murphy’s Time-Travel Law #36: Can a beginning that takes place in one century be felt or known in another?

Hope you got a chuckle out of at least one of them!

Cheers,

Jianne

Guest Author: Cherrie Mack

Today it’s my great pleasure in welcoming Cherrie Mack to the blog. Cherrie is a busy author and mother, and I’m tickled pink that she was able to stop by and talk to us today.

*****

Something to think about….

Did you ever wish you could undo something you did—in the bedroom? Perhaps it was something you said in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was that flimsy article of clothing that wasn’t at all flattering. Could it have been the five inch heels you put on to strut your stuff that made you fall on your ass? Or the contraption your partner convinced you would heighten your experience—And it got me thinking. In the days of technology these moments can be caught in the blink of an eye and be a constant reminder of our flawed judgment. Big or small, it can follow us, making us cringe and run screaming from ourselves. And there are many who are willing to put themselves in a vulnerable position in front of a camera. But I say—stop. Think. Just where do you think that little piece of nostalgia will end up?

Meet Georgie Randall. Georgie runs from town to town to escape her past. When she settles in Amityville, Long Island, she vows to be happy alone. But when the handsome son of her boss throws her kinky switch on, there’s no turning it back off. As she struggles with accepting a new relationship, she learns the road to future happiness must be traveled along the painful roads of the past. It is then Gee quickly discovers in order to open her heart and love again, she must first forgive her past sins and love herself.

Derek DeMarco wants his own niche. Not wanting to follow in his father’s footsteps, they have been estranged for years. When his life is interrupted by his father’s sudden illness, he is thrown together with the sassy waitress who calls his dad’s bar, Diamond Lil’s, home. As Derek and Georgie attempt to work together to keep the bar afloat, sparks fly.

But when Gee’s past sins pry on her mind, she struggles with indecision. Will her secret drive him away? Or can forgiveness pave the road to future happiness. 

I would like to thank the hosts of Love, Lust and Laptops for giving me the opportunity to be a guest today. So put on your thinking caps and tell us your biggest regret and you will have a chance to win a free copy of the first in my Off The Rack series, Follow That Dress. Our lovely hosts will decide the winner. This contest ran on another blog and it was loads of fun, so don’t be shy, it happens to the best of us. Come on….We’d love to hear from you.

Georgie's-Dress-mockup

Love in the Cards — The Lovers

Lea looked up at the Dacre House and smiled as anticipation coursed through her veins and settled in a tingling ball of fire between her legs. Some lucky son of a bitch in there would be thoroughly fucked by the time she got done with him.

She looked down and made sure the red corset she wore was aptly pushing her plump breasts up and out. It was tight around her abdomen, thinning her waist and emphasizing her hips, which were covered in a red latex miniskirt. Her red stiletto boots, which zipped from ankle to thigh, clicked as she sashayed her way toward the front steps.

The man at the door moaned in appreciation as she stopped in front of him. He gestured her in before she even showed him her invitation. “You can have whatever you want, baby,” he mumbled.

Her grin widened. She planned on having whatever she wanted. In whatever way she wanted it.

Lea paused in the foyer to glance in the tall mirror. Her golden locks were still perfectly curled and the little horns on her head were in the right place. It was early, but the ballroom was already abuzz with chatter and activity. There were four cages with dancers hanging high off the floor. The one that caught her attention held a couple dressed like Adam and Eve. Adam was grinding his counterpart, his loincloth barely covering him. It made Lea’s heart flip in her chest as another log was added to the fire of desire burning within her.

She spotted the bar and headed that way. She ordered a pumpkin martini and leaned back while she waited, scanning the room to find the perfect mate for the night.

Some might call her a slut for never seeing the same man more than once, but to Lea it was self-preservation. She’d go insane if she didn’t get laid on a somewhat regular basis. Not that she was a sex addict or anything of the sort.

She just happened to be head over heels in love with the one man she couldn’t have. Tom Malcolm. Her boss. It wasn’t just love. It was desire in its rawest form. She couldn’t look at the man without her pussy quivering with need. Sitting in his office taking notes, listening to him vent or laugh or just bullshit to pass the time, feeling his hand brush hers when she handed him papers or a cup of coffee, just being around him was enough to make her want to orgasm.

Tom had a power over her that she couldn’t understand, had never experienced before, and had kept her cunt starving for attention. She gave in to the urge to pick up a man several months ago and imagined it was her boss the entire time. She even called the man Tom once or twice. If he cared, she hadn’t noticed. By the time she’d been done with him, he’d been too exhausted to say either way.

And so started a new habit for her, one that was completely out of character.

She’d spend weeks letting the lust build to the point she could no longer stand it, to the point masturbation did nothing but make her need more. Then she’d find a man, fuck him stupid, and—for a while at least—regain some control of her desire for her boss.

Then Tom would smile at her as she laid papers on his desk, wink his thanks when she brought him coffee while he was on a teleconference, or just walk by her desk, and she’d almost die from the need to feel him come deep inside her.

Though she’d intended to find a one-night stand as soon as she received the invitation to this party, the catalyst to getting laid ASAP had been when he’d accidentally bumped into her in the break room earlier today and his hand had gone to her hip to steady her.

There’d been nothing intimate about his touch, but her body had thought otherwise. If she hadn’t been so adept at concealing her lust for him, she probably would have pushed him down on the table, ripped his clothes off, and climbed on his dick right then.

Instead, she’d stuttered awkwardly as she always did when he was around. She hated how he turned her into a clumsy little girl. One look from him and she tripped over her own feet, spilled coffee, dropped forks in her lap, and generally acted as if a man had never touched her before. It was embarrassing, but she couldn’t help it. In a strange way, she suspected her constant accidents were why he kept her around. He seemed amused by her.

What she wouldn’t give to be this woman in front of him. The confident, take-what-she-wants-when-she-wants-it woman she was when she went looking for a man to quench the sexual thirst he built in her.

Bringing her martini to her lips, she took a long drink and let her gaze settle on a man in the corner of the room as he looked at a card in his hand. He wore tight black pants and a black cowboy hat. Even from across the room, he radiated a fantastic lover vibe. He stood tall, confident, and when he reached up and tipped his hat as a woman walked by him, she could see his long slender fingers that she would love to feel sliding in and out of her.

Lea gulped what was left in her glass and set it aside. She was strutting across the room, closing in on her target, when she sensed a change in the air that only happened when she was close to Tom. She gasped and stopped in her tracks. Intuition had her turning her head and then she spotted him. He stood in the doorway, surveying the room.

Dressed in tight red pants, a red vest, with red horns sticking out of his dark hair, Tom’s devil was the perfect match to hers. Her gaze swept over him and settled on the bulge clearly visible in his should-have-been-illegal pants.

Fuck.

She’d always imagined him with a gigantic package hidden beneath the designer slacks he wore at the office. But now she knew. Now, she’d never be able to pour him a cup of coffee without imagining him stroking his cock as he peered down her blouse. Which he’d never done. She knew because she watched him closely from between her lashes.

Swallowing hard, Lea realized she had to abandon her plan. She couldn’t be here, couldn’t pick up a fling, while the man she wanted more than her next breath was in the room. Not only that, he couldn’t see her dressed like she was. His Lea was conservative, not anything like the sex-bomb Lea she was tonight. His Lea was awkward and jittery. She couldn’t be “his” Lea tonight, not dressed in red latex and thigh-high stiletto boots.

Ducking behind the guy with huge black wings, she managed a smile when the dark angel turned her way.

“What’s your card?” he asked.

She creased her brow as she tilted her head. “Uh, what?”

“Your card.” He held up half a tarot. Two of Wands.

“Oh.” She reached into the cleavage created by her corset and pulled out her invitation.  She hadn’t even paid attention. “The Lovers.”

He smiled. “Well, I guess you aren’t my match.”

“Sorry.” Lea shrugged as she looked around the man’s large body. Damn it. Tom wasn’t at the door. “Better luck next time.”

She scanned the room, her heart racing half in panic, half with excitement. So what if Tom saw her dressed like this? He wasn’t exactly dressed like himself either. Maybe he’d appreciate this side of her. Maybe he’d finally make a move, drag her to a secluded room, pin her against the wall, push her skirt up, and tear her panties away. Maybe he’d be too damned hungry for her to bother being a gentleman.

“Fuck,” she moaned.

Moving behind a man dressed like the pope—well, if the pope dressed only in his miter and in a white-and-gold thong—she peered over his shoulder and looked around. Tom had virtually disappeared. He wasn’t at the bar. He wasn’t at the buffet table. He wasn’t mingling with any of the scantily clad women prancing around the room.

She looked at the exit door and debated only for a moment before she headed straight for it. She was there, almost ready to make her escape when she heard Tom’s laughter, a sound that usually hit her straight between her legs, but now caused her stomach to tighten with fear. She looked one way, then another, and dashed into the closest room.

Exhaling slowly, she felt momentary relief at her escape before she registered where she was. The room was dark save for flashing lights. The music was louder in here, and the smell of sweat was heavy in the air. People danced to the music, moving, grinding, panting. The sheer sensuality of the atmosphere eradicated the fear of being caught and pulled her into the room.

Lea slithered deeper into the crowd, felt a hand run over her breast as she passed a dancing couple. Someone else touched her ass, groping it shamelessly. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and swayed with a body as it pressed against her.

Okay. Maybe she didn’t have to leave; maybe she could find someone in this room to help ease the ache inside of her. Afterward, she could slip out, go home, and do her damnedest not to imagine Tom in red leather every time she saw him. Decision made, she rolled her hips back against the body behind her, and felt a cock hard against her ass. The man pulled her closer and muttered his approval when she leaned even farther into him. Her head fell back on the man’s shoulder. He moved his palm higher until it covered the fullness of her breast where it threatened to fall out of the corset.

She moved with him, gyrated, and when another body pressed against her front, she gasped out of the sheer pleasure of having two men rubbing against her. A hard cock at her back, another against her stomach, and then lips on her neck. She’d never imagined having two men before, but right now, these men could do as they pleased and she wouldn’t protest.

Opening her eyes, she was about to suggest they take her somewhere with a bit more privacy, when her gaze fell on a familiar face and her entire being froze. There, just a few feet away, Tom stared at her and the two men. His mouth was opened in shock, but his eyes were hot with lust.

Lea forgot how to move, how to breathe as she and Tom stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. The man behind her squeezed her breast, ground his cock against her harder, and the man in front licked her neck from shoulder to earlobe. And she simply stood there, watching Tom watching her.

Finally, he blinked and the trance was broken. She wasn’t sure what she felt in that moment, other than surprise. Maybe a bit of shame. She respected Tom like no other, and he’d caught her at her worst.

Yet, her lust had been all about him. She imagined him not only behind her groping her tits, but also in front of her nipping at her neck. Two of him. Two Toms. Two fantasies in one.

To have him actually present as two strangers touched her body, thrilled her in a way she didn’t fully understand.

Her gaze lowered. Tom’s cock was erect within those damned tight pants. She was exhilarated. Usually one look from him turned her into an awkward mess. But now, he looked at her and lusted, gave her power she’d never had before.

She lifted her gaze to his and rotated her hips. Licking her lips, she reached for the man in front of her and pulled him closer. She wrapped her leg around him. Her dance partner rammed his crotch against her. The trio moved in time with the music, a sensual dance that left very little to the imagination. All three were sweaty as they groped at and ground their scantily clad bodies. The men put their mouths on her neck, on her face, but she didn’t kiss them in return. Instead, she watched Tom, made sure he saw this side of her which she’d kept so carefully hidden.

The song ended, but her partners didn’t let her go until she pushed them off her. She walked away, ignoring their protests. Clearly they thought they’d found a sure thing, and she would’ve been had it not been for Tom’s presence.

Lea stared at him as she walked toward him. She didn’t know where her courage came from, this new-found ability to look into his beautiful eyes and not trip over her killer heels and fall flat on her face. Yes, she’d done that before.

She swallowed as she neared him. “Good evening, Mr. Malcolm,” she purred. Jesus! Who was she right now?

“Miss Grayson,” he said in the deep voice that never failed to send a tidal wave of lust washing over her. “When you said you were going to a costume party this weekend, I had no idea it would be the same one I was attending.” He looked down, his gaze lingering over her breasts. “You make a lovely she-devil.”

She made a show of looking over him as well. His cock was still hard. She grinned and gave him a come-hither look. “You look quite devilish yourself.”

“So. Um. We, uh, apparently run in the same circles. To be invited to the same party, I mean.”

Lea grinned as he stumbled over his words. How the tables had turned. He was the one looking uncertain, lacking confidence, while she stood tall before him. “Apparently.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around the room, stopping at one of the caged dancers. Lea suspected he would use the scene to continue making small talk, but she didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to keep dancing around her lust for him. Her body was on fire and no amount of random fucking would put it out. She needed him. She needed his hands on her, his body between her thighs, his cock buried deep inside her.
Before he could comment on the dancer, she stepped a bit closer. “What happens outside the office, stays outside the office.”

He turned and appeared surprised, either by her words or her sudden closeness or both. “Uh, uh, yes. Of course, Miss Grayson. Your personal life is, uh … yours. And I expect the same courtesy. I really don’t need the office staff knowing I go out dressed in red leather.”
Lea swallowed, knowing it was now or never. “My silence for a dance?”
She grinned as he glanced at her cleavage … again.

Rather than repeat herself, she reached for his hand and pulled him deeper into the mass of bodies. When they were sufficiently surrounded, she stopped and turned to face him. He looked uncertain, and she suspected he was going through all the corporate rules he was breaking―thinking how this was unacceptable for a man in his position. What they were about to do could get them both fired.

She moved closer, determined that if she got nothing else from him, she would have this dance. She would have a few precious moments of feeling his body rub against hers, even if they weren’t naked and interlocked as she wanted.

Putting her hands on his hips, she closed the gap between them. Tom’s cock pressed into her, just below her exposed belly button. His erection was big and firm, and it would give her pleasure if she ever had a chance to feel it inside her. His breath was hot and moist against her face as it left him in quick, short spurts. Her gaze fixed on his eyes and she rolled her hips into him. He stood motionless, apparently not certain if he should be doing this.

She slid her hand up his chest and over his shoulder, then she threaded her fingers in his hair and pulled him to her. Her breasts connected with his chest, and she heard him groan.
Lea took one of Tom’s hands and placed it on her hip. He squeezed her tightly. As the tempo of the music picked up, she turned her body and pressed her back against his chest and, as with her last partner, dropped her head onto his shoulder.

Letting her inhibitions melt away, she ground against him. She’d gone this far, why the hell should she stop now? If he fired her, and he very well could, at least she’d walk away with the next few moments burned in her memory.

Tom’s breath flowed over her neck in a long slow wave. Her stomach clenched in response. His hand tentatively slid around her bared midriff, a light touch that grew in intensity. By the time his arm was fully around her, he was pulling her tightly against him.

The next time she ground her hips, he moved with her. He lowered his head, his breathing rougher, faster, as they found a rhythm that would be the perfect pace for fucking. Her heart nearly exploded when his other hand ran down the outside of her thigh.

God, please let him touch my pussy. Please.

But he didn’t. He moved his hand back up and over her stomach, then to brush over her breasts before he cupped her face. He turned her head and put his lips to her ear. “I need your word that this doesn’t leave here.”

Lea reached up and gripped the back of his head. “This doesn’t leave here.”

A sound, something like a growl, rumbled through him, and a moment later he firmly gripped her breast just as his mouth covered her neck, his teeth gently but firmly sinking into her flesh.

She gasped as the shockwave of his kiss rolled through her. He licked the length of her neck and then bit her earlobe. She reached behind him with her other hand, the one that wasn’t fisting his dark hair, and grabbed his ass, pulling him to her, needing to feel his dick against her.

The party was forgotten. The other guests disappeared from her thoughts. There was only Tom and the music and the goddamned inferno between her legs. Only this time, he was there. When his fingers kneaded the fullness of her tit, she ground her teeth.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

The muscles of her pussy tightened, contracting hard as the sensation of his body rubbing against hers overwhelmed her. She groaned as she realized she was coming, right there on the fucking dance floor. She bit her lip to stop from screaming as she tensed against him, but she couldn’t stop the gasps that left her.

Fuck.

All he’d done was squeeze her tit and lick her neck and he’d given her the best orgasm she’d had in a long time.

She thought she was fairly discreet. Sure, she’d moaned, but the music was loud. No one could’ve possibly heard her, could they? Then Tom’s mouth moved over her neck, and another wave moved through her.

She dug her nails into his thigh as her muscles spasmed with the aftershocks. “Oh, my God,” she moaned.

“Jesus Christ, Lea,” he breathed in her ear.

He’d never called her by her first name before. It was almost as erotic as coming for him surrounded by all these people.

Turning in his arms, weak from her orgasm, she covered his mouth with hers and pushed her tongue between his lips, not caring if he wanted her to or not. Her heart almost burst with joy when he kissed her back just as deeply.

Finally, after what could’ve been an eternity, Tom pulled back and looked down at her. “What happens outside the office—”

“Stays outside the office,” she finished.

“There’s got to be a vacant room around here somewhere.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her off the dance floor. “Shall we find it?”

“If we don’t, I’m going to fuck you right here.”

He grinned and she was happy the idea of pubic sex hadn’t offended him. He merely pulled her closer and led her out of the room. Working their way down a hallway, Tom opened one door and then apologized to the couple who’d already claimed it.

After shutting the door, they proceeded to the next room and again Tom lifted his hand in apology.

“You can join us,” a woman called.

“Maybe next time,” Tom answered causing Lea to chuckle.

The third time was the charm. Tom opened a door and they walked inside. He grinned as he turned to her. Lea couldn’t help but return his smile. The room was a home office, complete with a big oak desk and a high back chair, similar to what Tom had in his office.
He closed the door behind them, locked it, and then exhaled slowly.

Lea wondered what the next step would be and realized he seemed to be having a similar reaction and looked at her to take the lead. Again she marveled that the man who was always so in control seemed so unsure of himself now. She liked it, though. She walked to the desk and then trailed her fingers across it. “Tell me something, Mr. Malcolm. Have you ever imagined bending me over your desk and fucking me?”

He hesitated before answering. “Yes.”

“Have you ever imagined me on my knees, sucking your cock as you sit in your chair?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” she grinned, “tonight’s your lucky night, isn’t it?”

He smiled as well. “Yes.”

“Come here, Mr. Malcolm.”

He walked to her, stopping just inches from where she stood. She held his gaze as she released the clasps on his vest and slowly pushed it off his shoulders. As she unhooked the button and eased down the zipper on his pants, she let her gaze take in his chest. His muscles were toned, not overly so, just enough to indicate he took care of himself. His nipples were dark against his tanned skin. She leaned in and flicked her tongue over one. He hissed.

Then his pants were undone, and he pushed them over his hips.

Lea grasped his dick. He inhaled between clenched teeth. She looked down and sighed. She’d fantasized about his cock so many times, but nothing compared to the reality. It was big, thick, the head rounded, and every single inch begged to be loved by her.

“Sit down, Mr. Malcolm,” she commanded. And he did; his eyes glowing with desire. She stood between his knees, looking down at him. “How can I help you, Mr. Malcolm?”

He exhaled a quivering breath. “Put my cock in your mouth, Miss Grayson.”

“Yes, sir.” Lea eased to her knees, wrapped her hand around the base, and guided his dick between her lips.

Tom tangled his fingers in her hair and moaned.

She then took him slowly, deeply, into her mouth. She couldn’t take his entire length, so she used her hand to stroke what she couldn’t swallow. Up, down, up, down, she moved her mouth over his length. Sucking, licking, tasting the thing she’d desired for so long.

Tom moved his hips, fucking her mouth. When she sensed he was getting close, she pulled back. He wasn’t finishing this, not yet and not like this. While she had no qualms about sucking him off, she wanted to feel his dick inside her. Letting his cock slip out of her mouth, she looked up, licked her lips, and smiled at the intense look on his face.

“Anything else I can do for you?” she asked, lifting her brow suggestively.

“Stand up.” His voice was lower than normal, guttural. His hot stare never left her as she stood. He brushed his hands up her thighs and then tugged her panties down. “Sit on the desk.”

She did.

“Spread your legs and lie back.”

When she was where he’d ordered, he traced his hands up her thighs, this time pushing her skirt up, and then gripped her hips.

Lea swallowed when she felt the heat of his breath between her legs. He inhaled her scent and groaned. A moment later, his mouth was kissing her slit. Then he sucked her clit. His tongue flicked over it mercilessly; her back arched and she grabbed handfuls of his hair, holding him to her.

Tom stuck his tongue deep inside of her, then licked up and down before returning to suck her clit again. When he shoved several fingers into her, she cried out, wrapped her legs around his shoulders, and pulled him to her as she screamed through another orgasm.
He licked her come and then nuzzled and kissed her, easing her down from her climax. When she relaxed onto the desktop, he peppered gentle kisses over her lower stomach and thighs.

Dear God, now she could die happy.

“Stand up, Miss Grayson,” he ordered after moans had quieted to loud panting.

Tom helped her stand and then wrapped her in his arms as he kissed her deeply.
Lea could taste herself on his lips, something she’d never found to be erotic until that very moment.

When she’d been thoroughly kissed, he broke away.

Lea dug into a hidden pocket in her corset, pulled out a rubber, and tore the packet open.
Tom nibbled his way down her neck as she rolled the protection over his cock. When the condom was in place, she turned, bent over the desk, and held her breath with anticipation.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” Tom ran his hands over her ass. “So lovely.” Then he gripped her hips and placed the head of his cock at her pussy opening.

Lea closed her eyes. How long had she fantasized about this? How long had she needed this? Probably from the beginning, from the day he’d hired her over a year ago. But none of her fantasizing or playacting could have prepared her for the perfection of him sliding into her.

She gasped as he slowly filled her. He pulled out slightly, then thrust in deeply. He did so again as she tilted her ass into the air, giving him as much access as she could. He filled her fully again and again. They moved together, in and out, around and around. She moaned, he grunted, and they both panted for what seemed an eternity.

Lea came again, and her body milked his, demanding his release.

She knew he was getting close when he shouted her name, “Miss Grayson, oh God, Miss Grayson.”

She screamed in return. “Harder, Mr. Malcolm, fuck me harder.”

And he did.

And when he came, triggering yet another orgasm for her, Lea could’ve sworn her heart swelled as much as her cunt contracted. She loved him. She’d loved him for a long time, but damn it, now she really loved him.

Lea closed her eyes, pushing her emotions away as he pulled his spent dick from her.
Breathing heavily, Tom discarded the condom in the office trash and snagged several tissues from the container on the desk.

She smiled and thanked him when he handed them to her. They silently took a moment to clean themselves and get their clothes back in order.

Lea expected him to walk out at that point. Instead, Tom stepped forward and kissed her. His kiss was tender and loving, and her love for him hit her again even harder.

Tom pulled back and hugged her to him. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “You have?”

“Since the day I hired you.”

Lea hugged him as she buried her face in his chest so he wouldn’t see her tears of joy. “Me too.”

“You know the rules.”

She nodded and braced herself for what she knew he’d say. He couldn’t lose his job over her. This was it. This one night. This would never happen again.
“I know.” She sighed, her heart breaking.

“So … no office sex. Despite how damned tempting it’s going to be.”

What was he saying? She’d heard a “but” in his voice. She looked up at him and asked the question in her heart with her eyes.

Tom grinned. “However … you know the trip to Denver I have next week?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m pretty certain I’m going to need you there. And probably on the trip I have the week after. Where am I going again?”

Lea smiled. “Tulsa.”

“Right. Tulsa. I’ll need you in Tulsa, Miss Grayson.”

“I’ll clear my schedule, Mr. Malcolm.”

He kissed her again. “And I’ll need your assistance on any trip I’m taking after that.”

Tom wrapped his arm around her, and they started for the door. He stopped when he noticed something on the floor. “My invitation. It must have fallen from my pocket when you were tearing my clothes off.”

Lea chuckled, mostly because she couldn’t deny his words. She had torn his clothes off.
Tom picked it up and showed it to her. She grinned and tugged hers from where she’d hidden it in her corset.

Holding her half out, she grinned as he put his against it, reuniting the torn pieces of The Lovers.

Love in the Cards — The Wheel of Fortune by Monette Michaels

Love in The Cards - posterBrendan Cooper adjusted the gaudy vest across his chest and the saber in his belt for what had to be the hundredth time that evening. Yes, he represented The Sultan’s Favorites Sex Toys. Yes, he’d been asked to host a sex toy party at this exclusive Halloween party at Dacre House. And, yes, the sheik costume was appropriate … but he didn’t have to like it―any of it.

If he hadn’t been the classic starving, deeply-in-debt, just-out-of-the-military graduate student, then he wouldn’t be here. But he was … so he was.

The best part of this gig was all the sales he’d made tonight; the worst was he’d been as horny as hell the whole evening from observing―and listening to―his clientele testing toys and then using the ones they’d purchased.

The party host had thoughtfully provided tented chaises in the library for sex play. And Brendan had had a front row seat for every single second of the evening’s sexual activities. While he’d “scened” in BDSM clubs, he really wasn’t into being a voyeur; he liked his sex games to be private. But a job was a job, and he needed the money this one provided.

It had been a damn good thing the sword on his belt was plastic, or his stiff dick could’ve been lopped off several times throughout the evening. The fact he hadn’t taken himself in hand and alleviated his arousal was a testimony to his strength of will―and aversion to jerking off surrounded by strangers.

“Mr. Cooper.”

Brendan startled and turned to find Mr. Benoit, the sepulchral-looking aide to the owner of the house, standing right behind him. The man was unnerving as all get out and moved so quietly that he’d surprised Brendan several times during the evening. If Brendan hadn’t known better, he would’ve sworn the man transported from room to room like something out of Star Trek―or maybe he floated through walls like a ghost. The man was just not … right.

“Yes, Mr. Benoit?” Brendan rearranged the anal plugs, from smallest to “oh-my-god” huge, to give his hands something to do. He wasn’t too proud to admit this guy spooked the shit out of him, and as a former Marine, he’d always prided himself on his courage in the line of fire.

“Has your evening been successful?” Mr. Benoit looked around the room as if he were doing a barracks inspection. The guy reminded him of his drill sergeant during basic training; Sergeant York had the same eerie way of sneaking up on you just as you were about to do something stupid.

“It’s been great.” His regional sales manager would be thrilled―and Brendan would get a huge check about mid-November, just in time to buy books for the spring semester. “Lots of people in and out, and using, well, um, enjoying the atmosphere your boss created.”

“That’s good.” Mr. Benoit picked up a pair of Japanese clover nipple clamps and one of the silicone anal plugs in purple, size large. “I’d like to purchase these.” His lips twisted into what might have been a smile. “My wife has a birthday coming up.”

“Um, sure.” Brendan was shocked the guy had a sex life, let alone a kinky one. He wasn’t sure who’d be on the receiving end of the products, pun not intended, but he was damn sure not going to ask. “Cash or credit?”

Mr. Benoit handed over a Black American Express card. “No need for a bag. I’ll just take them back to my quarters. My wife wanted to visit your sex toy party, but she got tied up.” The man chuckled.

Okay, there was such a thing as too much information. But TMI had been happening all evening. The guests were very forthcoming about their sexual proclivities. He’d been invited to join in several ménages after he shut down. He’d declined. He liked his sex kinky, one-on-one, with him in control.

“Mr. Benoit,” he handed the man his card and a receipt, “when should I shut down? The crowd visiting the library seems to have thinned out in the last hour or so.”

The aide chuckled, a deep, bass sound belying his thin body type. “Yes, the private rooms are where most of the action is now. That will go on all night.”

Maybe Brendan would check out the action and find himself a hot woman to play with and bring her back to the library. After all, he had toys and his choice of tented chaise sofas, which had been cleaned after each bout of sex.

“Stay open for another hour or so.” Mr. Benoit shoved the clamps and plug in the pocket of his black formal jacket. “We’re closing down the entertainment in the ballroom in the next fifteen minutes. Some of the entertainers and servers have expressed an interest in purchasing sex toys. After that crowd dies down, feel free to grab some food and beverages in the bar area of the ballroom. Catering services will continue on through the night and into the morning.”

“That’ll work.” He didn’t have to rush home. There were no classes tomorrow, and no one was waiting for him at his apartment.

As the man turned to leave, he paused. The smile on his face was sly this time. “You’re also welcome to join the late-night festivities. Several ladies have commented on your impressive sword. You never know, you just might meet your destiny tonight.” The man winked and then left the room.

“Jesus, he gives me the willies.” Brendan shook off the strange feeling Benoit created and then moved around the display tables, re-stocking in anticipation of the next wave of buyers. He set out more free condoms and antiseptic wipes so the interested buyers could test a toy before buying. Most of his customers had been like Benoit: they knew what they wanted and how to use them.

As he neatened his pile of receipts and made sure his cash drawer was organized, he came across the half Tarot card, The Wheel of Fortune, which Benoit had given him six hours earlier upon arrival at Dacre House. The man had said something about destiny, Brendan’s destiny. Right then several groups of food servers and dancers entered the room, chattering excitedly and moving for the display tables, so he didn’t have time to ponder Benoit’s words.

Brendan was very busy for the next hour. Lots of sales and lots of risqué sex talk, though this crowd was taking the toys and finding rooms to play in. From what he’d overheard, a lot of them had also made hook-ups for the evening and the half Tarot cards had something to do with those.

What was he missing out on?

The room was empty of customers for the moment, so he pulled out the half Tarot card from his cash drawer and stared at it.

The Wheel of Fortune.

The half-card depicted a half of a wheel with pie-shaped sections and in each section was the image of a woman with varying facial expressions. His half had been split vertically, giving him only one side of the woman’s face at the top and bottom with two full faces between them; the woman’s expression at the top was joyful, while the one at the bottom had a look of despair.

The woman’s face looked familiar. Then it hit him. The face on the card was that of one of his classmates who worked the Computer Help Desk with him, Abby Hart. He’d lusted after the petite blonde since they’d shared an IOS programming class last year. He was fairly sure every other heterosexual male in the Computer Science program wanted her too.

Abby was scary smart, had a great sense of humor, and possessed a body made for sin―and she was sweet. Too sweet for what he’d like to do to her curvy little body.

Plus, she treated all of the guys she worked with equally, showing no favorites. One night over beers, he and a few of the other computer science majors had tried to figure out whether she had a boyfriend or liked girls. The consensus had been she wasn’t a lesbian and that she had to be dating someone and was faithful. So, she was hands off.

“Brendan?” That voice had haunted his wet dreams―and his waking ones too.

“Abby?” He did a double-take. Yes, it was really her and― “Oh, wow, you look…” hot, perfect, sexy “…like you should’ve been helping me sell Sultan’s Favorites toys this evening.”

Lame, Brendan, really lame. Where’s your vaunted Dom persona?

Abby’s husky laugh went straight to his dick, and he resisted the urge to readjust his erect and oh-so-fucking-hard cock.

Her laugh always made him hard. He’d once thought he’d come during a shared shift at the Help Desk just listening to her laugh. He’d had to excuse himself and jerk off in the restroom so no one would notice his erection.

“I do look like I should’ve been in the harem all night instead of that cage above the ballroom floor.” Abby smiled and then belly-danced her way to him.

She stepped and pointed her toe, setting the bells on her ankle bracelets to ringing. Then she undulated her hips and stomach and the coins on the sheer scarf around her hips jingled. With each step and wiggle toward him, she also clicked little cymbals attached to her fingers. Brring. Brring.

Brendan shut his mouth and checked to see if he had any drool on his chin, because she was drool-worthy. A tiny blue bra top and bikini panty with sheer blue harem pants and the purple scarf with coins around her hips were all she wore―oh, and the bells at her ankles which reminded him of ankle cuffs only noisier. The Dom in him wanted to take her to one of the tented chaises, strip her bare, bind her, and give her so much pleasure she’d never look at another man.

“I’d like that, Brendan.”

Fuck, had he said that out loud? What the fuck was wrong with him?

Did you listen, dumbass? She wants us to dominate her.

Was Abby his hook-up? Was Mr. Benoit a psychic or something?

“Do you have a half Tarot card?” he asked.

She smiled and pulled a card tucked in her blue panties and handed it to him. It was the mate to his card.

A frisson of preternatural awareness ran down his spine. It was the same feeling he’d often had during battle just before something important happened. On the battle field, the warning had saved his life. Was the feeling now telling him his life was about to change for the better? Because being with Abby could only be good.

“Brendan, don’t you want me?” She sounded―and looked―forlorn, like the woman at the bottom of the card. That wouldn’t do.

He moved toward her and took her hands in his, removed the finger cymbals, and tossed them on the table. He placed her hands on his chest and then, cupping her sweet ass with his hands, pulled her into his body against his throbbing erection. “That’s for you. Every time I see you … hear you … think about you, I get hard.”

Abby’s mouth formed a perfect O and then she sealed her fate by moving in and placing a tiny biting kiss on one of his nipples peeking out from behind the ugly vest.

“I feel the same way about you,” she whispered into his chest. “Feel me and see.”

Brendan groaned and slid his hand between their bodies and then slipped his fingers under the tiny pair of panties she wore. He rubbed a finger over bare pussy lips and found her… “God, you’re soaking wet, sweetheart.”

He pulled his hand out and brought the fingers wet with her juices to his lips and sucked them. “God, I’m gonna eat you up.”

“Please.” She stood on her tip-toes and nipped his chin and licked it. “I want you so much.”

Brendan wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve this change in fortune, but he wasn’t about to turn it aside.

“Go to the chaise with the purple hangings. Take off all the bells and jingling things, take off the sheer pants, leave the bra and panties on,” he wanted to take those off himself, “and then sit and wait for me.”

“What are you going to do?” She rubbed her tiny hands over his chest and he rumbled deep in his throat. He liked her touching him … way too much.

He picked up one of her so-distracting hands and placed a kiss on the palm. “I’m locking the damn door, ’cause I don’t do public sex…” He slapped her bottom with his other hand and was happy to see her eyes dilate with arousal. “…and then I’ll take my harem girl in every way I desire.”

And his desire meant he’d visit every orifice before the night was over. Sultan’s choice on where he decided to take his final pleasure.

“God, I knew you’d be like this.” She kissed the hand that held hers. “I always sensed dark depths under your quiet demeanor. Every shift, I’d notice your erection.” She stroked a hand over the bulge in his pants and licked her lips. “I’ve stayed awake many a night and masturbated, thinking about your big, strong body, about how large your cock is, about you fucking my mouth and then making me scream with pleasure as you put this big boy in me.” She squeezed his cock through his pants.

Brendan growled at the feel of her hand on his hard-on, at the mental images of her naked and fingering herself.

“Abby, get your ass to the chaise now,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. It was all he could do not to tear her costume off and fuck her on the floor with no preliminaries. But he wanted this first time with Abby to be long, drawn out, and excruciatingly pleasurable for both of them.

Her coins and bells jingled and rang all the way to the chaise as he locked the library door and turned off the overhead lights, leaving only lamps to light the room. He moved a floor lamp closer to the chaise where Abby sat watching him with hungry eyes.

With the light coming through the sheer purple silk, he’d have just enough light to see Abby’s body and the expressions on her face as he took her over and over again. The way he felt right now, he could fuck her all night.

“Lie down, Abby.” His voice was more guttural than he could ever remember. She brought out the alpha-animal in him. All his sexual relations in the bedroom were Dom-sub. He didn’t do vanilla sex, which was one of the reasons he’d never made a move on Abby. She’d looked to be strictly a vanilla girl.

But looks had been deceiving, and she had a hidden sub side―and a very good Dom-radar. Thank you, lord.

*

God, it was gonna happen.

Abby had wanted to be with this man for a long time. But he was older and so controlled, and she hadn’t known how to approach him. She’d always been able to pick out the Dom in any room, probably a result of being raised in a non-traditional household. She and her siblings “knew,” once they were old enough to understand what sex was, that a locked door meant mom and dad were playing sex games. Since she’d had a wonderful childhood and her parents had a happy marriage and still did, she figured BDSM sex was just another choice to make in life.

She’d made that choice. And while she’d played both privately and at an invitation-only club off campus, she’d never found the “one” Dom who she’d want to be with forever. She wanted what her mom and dad had.

When she’d first seen Brendan, her gut, her heart, and her soul all agreed―this was the man, her Dom.

But how did a proper submissive girl approach a Dom and tell him she was his perfect sub and mate?

Thank God for this party.

“Abby. Stand.” Brendan offered his hand and she placed hers in it, glad for the help, because her knees were the consistency of pudding.

He released her and then pulled her panties down. “Step out.” She did. Then he unfastened her bra and took it off. His gaze heated as he scanned her slowly from top to bottom and back. “You are so perfect.”

And his words and the look in his eyes made her feel so.

Brendan caressed her arms, then moved his hands over her breasts and down her body along the outside of her torso and settled them on her hips. She shivered with excitement as his calloused fingers sent chill bumps racing over her skin.

“Are you cold, little one?”

His Dom voice was lower than his normal speaking voice—a voice that already had the ability to make her wet just from hearing him. Even now the moisture from her pussy coated her labia and her inner thighs.

“No, just excited.”

“Good.” He smiled. “Do you have any hard limits?”

“No scarring me. No needles. No scat. No golden showers. No humiliation. No sharing me with other men. Moderate pain only.” She inhaled sharply as she realized this was going to happen and then her mind went numb.

“That’s good enough to start.” He walked behind her and stroked her back, moving her hair aside to place a kiss at the top of her spine.

She moaned and trembled.

“I won’t hurt you, baby, just push your limits a bit tonight. We’ll go over a complete limits’ contract later.”

Later? He wanted to be with her beyond tonight. It was all she could do not to squeal in excitement.

“You’re pleased.”

He read her well. Her dad was like that with her mom. This boded well for their future.

Brendan nibbled along her shoulder and up her neck. When he reached her ear, he bit her lobe lightly, then sucked on it. He reached around and pinched her nipples hard. She inhaled and then exhaled on a gasp at the pleasure-pain that shot straight to her clit. She moaned as he rolled her nipples between his thumb and finger.

“Let’s clamp these and begin to play.”

“Yes-s-s,” she breathed through the pinches of pain. Her body felt like an over-wound watch, ready to spring loose. She might come from his breast manipulation alone. “I’m close, Sir.”

“Don’t come.” He teethed her shoulder and released her nipples.

She whined at the loss of his touch. The need to come ebbed.

He walked around to face her. He selected some tweezer nipple clamps from the table to the side of the chaise. He put one clamp on her nipple and slid the little ring up, tightening it until she closed her eyes and clenched her jaw against the moan of pain.

“Good girl.” Brendan released a bit of the tension and the pain subsided somewhat. She let out a breath and then he clamped the other nipple in the same manner. He tugged on the chain connecting them and she took rapid breaths to control the urge to cry out. “No sound. What an obedient sub.” He kissed the tip of each tightly clamped nipple. “You will not speak unless it’s to tell me you’re close to coming or to use your safe word which will be ‘pumpkin.’ Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“What’s your safe word?”

“Pumpkin, Sir.” Her throat was so tight with nerves and excitement she could barely get the words out. She hadn’t been this aroused … ever.

“Use it if you need to.” Brendan swept her into his arms. His strength was a turn-on in itself. He placed her on the chaise with her head hanging over the top end slightly. “Don’t move.”

She nodded and then watched as he collected an assortment of toys from the tables and returned to her.

“Abby,” he kissed her lips, “are you okay with being tightly bound? You may speak.”

“Yes, Sir. I like being tightly bound.” A lot.

Brendan smiled. He put cuffs on her wrists, ankles, and thighs just above her knees and a bondage belt around her waist. Then with a combination of leather straps, he bound her to the chaise with her hips elevated and her ass and pussy wide open to anything he wished to do to them.

“You look so beautiful.”

He licked and suckled her labia and clit, again and again, but never stayed long enough in one spot to take her over the top. She hissed and tried to arch into the touch to get the pressure she needed.

Brendan slapped her pussy. “None of that. You may make noises, but you can’t come.” He lapped at her sex, humming under his breath. “You taste wonderful. I’ll enjoy eating you for hours, but not tonight.”

She whined and then inhaled sharply as he shoved a finger into her pussy and moved it to her anus and rubbed her juices over the tiny pucker. “Have you ever taken a man here?”

“Yes-s-s, Sir.” She loved having her ass filled while her lover fucked her.

“Let’s get you ready for my cock.” He rubbed some very cold lube on her asshole and then used his fingers to prep her. “Okay, push out, little one. This is a medium plug and I want you to take it, love.”

She nodded, inhaled and then exhaled, relaxing her asshole as much as possible. There was no pain until the bulge in the plug attempted to go through the tight anal ring.

“Push against it. That’s a girl. It’s in.”

Hell, yeah it was. Every inch of her rectum throbbed around the intrusion. But as she adjusted, her pussy clenched around an aching emptiness; she wanted his cock in her now.

Brendan stood by her head. “You will lick and suck my cock until I tell you to stop. Then I’ll fuck your mouth until you swallow my cum. Then it’ll be your turn to come … and come again and again my love.” He placed a squeaky toy in her hand. “If you get uncomfortable and need to safe word out, squeak that.”

Then he walked behind the chaise and angled her head. “Take my cock.”

Abby began by licking the head and then sucking him in and out of her mouth. He was long and thick; it was the largest cock she’d ever sucked. His taste was briny and somewhat fruity, and she loved it. She was in her own little world, loving his cock, when he pulled the chain to the nipple clamps. She gasped around his cock, and he groaned.

“That felt good. Let’s do it again.” He tugged, she groaned, and her ass clenched around the plug. Her pussy felt so empty and she tightened her vaginal muscles to assuage the ache. She wanted his cock down there.

“Stop sucking.”

She stopped. He held her head steady for his thrusts. He took her rough and fast. She swallowed against the gag reflex and was rewarded with a “Good, little one. So good.”

“Fuck, baby. I’m coming.” His roar of completion was quickly followed by hot spurts of cum down her throat. She swallowed as fast as she could. Finally he was spent and pulled out of her mouth.

Abby took deep gasping breaths as Brendan crooned praise into her ear and caressed her face and hair. “That was wonderful, little one.” He brushed a kiss over her swollen lips before thrusting his tongue into her mouth for a deep, claiming kiss. He tasted of mint and something earthy. She could become addicted to his taste.

When he broke off the kiss, he checked her bindings. “Can you feel your hands and feet?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now is all about you.” He caressed her body lightly with the backs of his fingers, just enough to tease her, but not enough to add to her arousal. Then he moved to her bottom and turned on a vibrator in the anal plug.

She inhaled sharply as the pulsations seemed to enter her very bones. Then the sound of a Hitachi vibrator filled the air. When he touched the vibe’s head to her labia and clit, she screamed and tried to get away from the too-strong vibrations. “Too much. Too much.”

“Hush.” His order was stern and he slapped her ass hard.

She couldn’t move away from the painful pleasure the powerful vibe caused. Her teeth chattered, her hands clenched, her toes curled, and her body throbbed as every nerve in her seemed to tighten all at once … and then exploded. She screamed, moaned, cursed, and then devolved into mindless mumblings. If she hadn’t been tied down, she would’ve arched into the vibrator while pushing it away at the same time. She wanted it, but she didn’t.

Brendan gave her no choice … and she loved him for it. He kept the Hitachi on her clit, not letting up for what seemed like forever. She lost count of the orgasms after three; they ran into one another. Finally, he pulled the all-too-efficient vibe away.

Abby trembled as mini-spasms seemed to travel up and down her body.

“Prepare, little one. Ice pack.”

She shrieked as he placed and held a towel-wrapped ice pack on her over-stimulated pussy. “Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod.”

When he removed the ice, he licked her labia and clit. His mouth was hot in contrast to the ice. As he suckled and teethed her over-sensitized tissue, a different climb to orgasm occurred; this time it was slow and inexorable. She strained to reach the peak, but couldn’t. It was torture. It was wonderful.

Then Brendan used the Hitachi again. “Two more times, sweetheart.” He tugged on her nipple clamps. She moaned. “Then you’ll take my cock in your pussy and then I’ll come in your ass.”

“Can’t. Too tired, Sir.” She wasn’t positive she was even still in her body. She was sure the last orgasm had her floating over her physical body looking down. Was she dead?

He removed the clamps and she screamed as the most powerful orgasm yet, fueled by the main line from her nipples to her clit jump-started a series of never-ending orgasms.

“That’s my girl.” Brendan leaned over and shoved his cock inside her pussy and began to fuck her, hard and fast, shooting her pleasure into the upper atmosphere.

She moaned constantly now. Words were beyond her. The pleasure was too much, bordering on the knife edge of pain she liked and craved. No man had ever pushed her this far.

“Gonna take your ass now.” He grunted, pulled out of her still-spasming pussy and then removed the anal plug.

She watched with dazed eyes as he lubed her and then himself. She liked seeing him stroke his own cock with his large hand. He was big all over and made her feel conquered and protected at the same time.

“Push out, baby.” She inhaled and blew out a breath as he inserted the crown of his cock head into the opening stretched by the plug. He slowly pushed in, then halted, letting her relax until he could push in even farther. It took four pauses, but she finally felt his balls against her ass. Then he began thrusting, slowly at first, then more rapidly.

And as he shoved his cock into her ass, he murmured, “So tight. Feels so good. You take me so beautifully. Could live in your ass forever.” As he fucked her ass, he fingered her clit and thrust two fingers in her pussy. “Come again, baby. Come now.”

Abby would’ve sworn she couldn’t come again, but his cock rubbed nerve endings that had never been rubbed before, and his fingers and thumb revitalized her clit and pussy. So, when he told her to come, she did. “Brendan!”

As if in response, Brendan came also. “Mine,” he roared. He pummeled her ass so hard it shook the chaise. “You … are … fucking … mine.”

Finally, he slumped over her and peppered kisses over her face and shoulders as they both shuddered against one another.

Brendan nuzzled her neck and whispered, “Let’s get you loose, sweetheart.”

He released her and then scooped her into his arms and carried her to another chaise where he lay her down and joined her. Spooning her, he held her close and then pulled several silk throws over them.

As Brendan kissed her shoulder and back, Abby sighed with pleasure. He was a post-sex cuddler. He liked to force orgasms. Her dream Dom.

“I’m so glad you were here tonight. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Brendan kissed the edge of her jaw. “You’re moving in with me.”

It was an order, not a request.

“Yes, I am.”

Thank God, her Uncle Benoit had helped to create this meeting. Brendan never would’ve made the first move. So, she’d taken Fate in hand.

The End