Molly’s endurance – #SatSpanks #DarkRomance #Erotica

#SatSpanks

It’s finally the weekend, and with it comes the delicious #SatSpanks blog hop! This week I am bringing you more from one of my current, darker WIP’s. In this scene, Molly’s punishment is only just beginning…

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***

Her silent questions were answered by his hand which landed against her bared behind again before she could fully process his last comments. He spanked her five times in fast succession, each swat landing in almost exactly the same spot as the prior, and causing her bottom to sting unbearably. Molly flinched at the pain, her head becoming heavier with each strike. This wasn’t the way she’d imagined punishment spankings when she’d written them. In her books, the heroine was always punished with a loving hand, knowing that her pleasure would be imminent if she only endured the penance. But Connor’s hands were not loving, and there were no guarantees of anything for her now. She didn’t even know when she’d be free again, let alone able to enjoy pleasure. A low sob caught in her throat as his hand moved against her punished ass again and again, and she buried her head into the bedding, grateful at least that she didn’t have to see his face during the ordeal.

The spanking continued over Connor’s lap, Molly’s behind now surely on fire as his palm connected with her ass again. Her bottom felt several times larger than it had done before, and she wondered if and how she’d be able to sit once he’d finally finished. He spanked her again and this one felt hard, even in spite of all of the previous swats. The next strike was harder still, and she gasped, fighting to resist the urge to try and move from her place.

“Please,” she murmured in desperation. “I’m sorry, sir, but please. It hurts so damn much!”

It was a humiliating thing to admit, particularly in light of the position she found herself – upturned over a stranger’s lap for a bare bottomed spanking – but she was past caring about that now. It did hurt, a lot – and she wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take.

***

Find out Molly’s fate as I post snippets over the coming weeks, and don’t forget to join my reader’s group, Fierce AF for exclusive snippets, ARC opportunities, plus games and giveaways!

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A darker spanking #Amwriting #SatSpanks #DarkRomance

#SatSpanks

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It’s the weekend, and my mind is definitely in a dark place this week, as my #SatSpanks snippet shows. We join the trials of Molly, who finds herself at the whim of a menacing stranger in this raw and unedited excerpt…

***

“You look so good like this, Molly,” he purred from over her.

His words stirred her, snapping her from the thoughts of escape, and filling her with fresh anxiety.

“You should see how gorgeous this arse is now it’s reddening under my palm. Fucking beautiful…”

Molly gulped at that, unsure how she felt about his admission. Of course she was disgusted. Appalled by the way he was treating her. He had no right to take her, to bind her, or to spank her, and they both knew it. But as the swats continued to land against her, that most curious thing began to happen. Instead of registering the pain of each new strike, something else was transpiring inside her head. Now there was pleasure too. Her mind acknowledged the motion of his palm, and perhaps even conveyed the impact, but it didn’t really hurt any more. Or maybe it did, she wasn’t sure, but if it did then she welcomed the pain. She sought it. Yes, that was it. It did hurt, but now she liked it – she wanted it. It was the most bizarre realisation.

Now when she pulled at the ropes at her wrists, and felt them cut into her flesh she didn’t want to run from the sensation, she wanted more of it. She realised she was revelling in the ignominy of being bared to Connor. Yes, it was still humiliating, but now the humiliation was making her wetter than before. Wet, and hot, and ready.

***

There’ll be lots more from Molly and Connor in the coming weeks, so stay tuned for my blog for more of their twisted tale. Don’t forget to check out the rest of the blogs at the #SatSpanks hop this Saturday.

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Like your heroes dark and brooding?

Check out Anders in my bestselling erotic romance, The Viking’s Conquest!

The Viking's Conquest SR Nomination
The Viking’s Conquest cover image.

 

Something darker… #WIPItUp #darkromance

#WIPItUpWednesday

Coming soon

Happy hump day! I’m home, and back into my writing, and this week I want to bring you a snippet of something darker…

***

“Not planning on jumping, are you?”

The sound of his voice was unexpected, and it frightened her already adrenaline-filled body. Molly hadn’t heard him coming back to the room, and she spun to face him, losing her balance and landing awkwardly back onto her left shoulder. Connor laughed at the display, his arrogance evident as he placed the water back down on the dresser. The look of the amusement on his face made the old indignation within her rise to the surface, and she knew she was scowling as she struggled to get herself upright again.

“Molly?” He asked, his long arms drawing his hands to his hips.

Her eyes assessed him, and she wondered what he saw in them? Fear, perhaps? Anger? Maybe something else?

“I asked you a question,” he continued, his tone lowering.

Molly swallowed hard, her emotions threatening to spiral out of control completely. “I…” She closed her mouth, unsure what to actually say. She hadn’t been thinking of jumping, but now that he mentioned it, she can’t remember why she hadn’t thought of that herself.

Connor took one long stride and pointed to the bed. “Sit,” he commanded, as though she was some sort of dog.

She inhaled quickly, fighting both the urge to tell him to go and fuck and himself, and the one which made her pussy wet, in equal measure. She eyed him, fearfully, deciding that for the time being at least, there really was little choice but to obey as he’d asked. Moving on unsteady legs, she fell back to her bottom.

He stared down at her, and as she lifted her head, she couldn’t believe how tall he seemed, towering over her like some mythical man. “I’m waiting for your answer,” he reminded her in a curt, unamused tone.

She straightened up as the weight of his intense gaze fell over her. “I wasn’t going to jump,” she answered. “I swear, I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

This was the truth at least.

“Really?” He enquired, apparently unimpressed by her response. “And how did I ask you to address me, Molly?” His dark brow arched as he questioned her, and the sight of it made her pussy clench reflexively.

“Sir.” The word flew from her lips as though it was the most natural thing to say in the whole world. “You asked me to call you sir.”

He smiled, evidently proud, but the expression hardened almost at once. “So, why did you not call me by my new title?”

She squirmed in her place. “I’m sorry,” she replied, feeling absurdly flustered by the admission. The logical part of her brain, apparently still subdued by the toxins coursing through her system, knew she had no reason to be ashamed. Connor was the asshole here. He was the one who had taken her. He was the perpetrator.

But then, what did that make her? Her squirming stilled as the answer came to her.

It made her the victim.

***

This new story is in the pipeline, so if you like reading dark romance, keep watching this space.

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Stitch by Nia Farrell

Author promotion.

This Tuesday, I’m pleased to be joined by fellow Wicked Pen, Nia Farrell, and her new release, Stitch.

In the book, Matteo Visconti is a desperate man. Freshly wounded with a bullet in his shoulder, he’s sworn to hunt the man who put it there, but first, the bullet needs out. He kidnaps a doctor from a convenience store at gunpoint, intending to kill her when her usefulness is done.

Bethany Shelton is only a physical therapist, but she manages to remove the bullet and save Matteo’s life. It’s too bad that he can’t afford to let her live, not even after they’ve had one desperate joining. Forced to call for help when infection sets in, Matteo leaves Beth’s fate to his father, Dom Visconti, and his assassin brother Val.

After months of futile searching, Matteo returns home for Italian Fest and learns that Beth is alive. His father gives him the choice to keep her or kill her. When Matteo goes to her house, intending to take what belongs to him, he learns that they have a son.

In this darker, dubious consent Mafia romance, Beth will do anything to stay alive and raise her child. Matteo doesn’t hesitate to drag her down into his world. He’ll make her want to stay despite the danger, despite the pain. But when you marry into the mob, you don’t just get a crime family, you get their enemies, too.

Stitch is a full-length, standalone erotic romance written for Ages 18+. Check out a steamy excerpt from the book…

***

“I shouldn’t want you,” he grated, his breath still minty from when she’d helped him brush his teeth after supper. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. With the cashier. With that mother at the checkout. You, without a stitch, lying on the seat of my SUV, looking so peaceful. So pure of heart. I promised myself that I wasn’t going to touch you again. You don’t know who I am. What I’ve done. What I’ll have to do as soon as I can go again. There’s a monster out there who needs put down. He takes women, shares them with his club, and kills them. He raped my cousin. I promised to avenge my family’s honor. I failed once. I won’t rest until he’s stopped.”

Stopped…as in dead.

Matteo was not the kind of man that most parents envision for their daughter. He had no qualms about killing someone who deserved it. He was willing to be judge, jury, and executioner if it meant that justice would be served when the legal system failed.

The intensity in his eyes was mesmerizing. She wet her lips and swallowed hard.

“You should have run away as far and as fast as you could go.”

“You pointed a gun at me.”

“It was empty. It’s still empty unless you found bullets and reloaded it. But I needed help. I’m just sorry it was you.”

He thrust himself against her hand. Beth realized that her fingers were still wrapped around his girth, or as far as they could reach, anyway.

He had needed her, but the nature of his needs had taken a very carnal turn. In another time, another place, she might have been seduced into having a one-night stand with a handsome, well-dressed man possessing an air of danger and an impressive cock. But now…

If she fought him, she could hurt him. If he didn’t take it easy, he could start bleeding internally again, and this time, she might not be able to stop it.

Would it really be so bad, to give herself to him just this once? No right, no wrong. Nothing but elemental need and what it took to assuage it.

“Matteo—”

“You were my angel of mercy,” he murmured, his voice grown rough with desire. “Have mercy on me now.”

He cupped her head and urged her face down to his. Rather than risk hurting him, she surrendered to her own rising passion.

They came together with opened mouths and parted lips. Tongues thrust, twining around each other in a dance as old as humankind. Forsaking her hold on his manhood, she unzipped her pants, hooked her fingers in the tops of her panties, and shoved everything down. Kicking them aside, she climbed on the bed and straddled him, riding the ridge of his cock and stimulating his length while his mouth continued to consume hers.

He claimed one breast with his good hand, splaying his large fingers, rubbing and squeezing it. Her hardened nipple prodded his palm. Catching it between his fingers, he rolled and tugged on it, a pull that she felt all the way to her core.

She threw off her shirt, wanting to feel his mouth on her breasts. Pushing them together, she offered herself to him, rising up to meet his mouth and welcoming the feel of his lips claiming one, then the other. He took a nipple between his teeth and teased it with his tongue, licking, flicking, curling around it and sucking it inside. He feasted on her flesh like a starving man, a desperate man, a wounded man with an uncertain future, seeking to make the most of the time that was left to him.

She didn’t want to think that he might die. She wasn’t ready to accept that this might be the last act of his life. The last time that he’d know the joy of a woman’s body and the comfort of her touch. She gave it to him, all the while bargaining with God to do what He could to save him. He might be a dangerous man, but he wasn’t a bad man. Not really. He was lonely and vulnerable and likely as scared as she was that things might not end well.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, seeking to reassure him when he pushed down the front of his sweatpants and freed his cock. “It’s okay,” she said when he bent his knees and started to enter her, skin to skin, with nothing separating them. She wasn’t about to raise the subject of condoms with a man who might be dying.

He claimed her in one desperate, searing thrust that took her breath away.

***

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Violated: A dark sci-fi romance by Aria Adams

Author promotion.

Do you like your romance dark and daring? Then check out the awesome new release, Violated, from Aria Adams…

Isla
I can barely remember my life before I was taken to the breeding facility. For two years, I’ve been kept naked and helpless as they probed me, violated me, and used me.

But this new doctor seems different than the ones before him. He has dragged me from my broken shell and captured my attention so that I truly blush as he examines me. When I attempt to escape he punishes me harshly, but the pain and humiliation leave me burning with need. I’ve even begun to think he might care about me.

Adam
I didn’t plan to fall in love with one of the girls held captive here. I have no more choice about my role in all of this than she does. But to keep her safe, I will have to teach her to obey.

I will make her surrender completely. I will make her mine. Then we will find a way to leave this terrible place forever.

Publisher’s Note: Violated: A Dark Sci-Fi Romance is a stand-alone novel which is the first book in the Stolen Future series. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Intrigued? I bet you are! Brace yourself now for the brooding excerpt…

***

When I got to the door, Adam left me there. So much for being on my side. I was abandoned, but I wasn’t alone. Although I was completely powerless, I had a baby to protect. I had to take whatever the men gave out. I had to submit, even though my soul screamed for help that wouldn’t come, and every inch of my body wanted to flee and hide. There was nowhere to hide. The machines, the guards, or the doctor would find me and bring me back here. Then I would be in trouble. On the other hand, if I pleased the men behind the door, they might not treat me so harshly as to make me lose my baby. I focused on that as the door opened, and I cast my eyes down.

The floor was black polished tile, the same as everywhere else in the facility, but in here, there were rugs laid down, with intricate patterns in red and gold.

Before I had to be told, I walked carefully to the low table where two wineglasses awaited, and I dropped to my knees with what I hoped was grace, but given that I still struggled to move easily, and that even the small amount of movement around Adam’s room had made my whole body ache with stiffness, I probably looked like a spider on roller skates.

Remembering my next instruction, I cupped the base of the bottle, which was heavier than the one I’d practiced with, and I held it out, keeping my eyes on the floor the whole time. A pair of boots stood before me. I reflexively wanted to look at him, but I didn’t dare.

“The doctor wasn’t lying when he said he was training you. Did he teach you to suck cock, yet?” The man plucked the bottle from my hands and I wasn’t sure whether to move or not, so I remained still, hands outstretched.

“No, he didn’t,” I replied. A sharp pain accompanied a force that flung my face sideways, and I was knocked to the rug.

“Get up. Kneel.”

“Sorry,” I said, scrambling to obey. Another pain exploded in my face as I fell again. What had I done wrong? Part of me knew the question was a pointless one. These men clearly didn’t need a reason to hurt me. That I even slightly thought that people shouldn’t treat me like this meant that the doctor had somehow changed my outlook on life, even though he was one of them. It was that illusion of kindness that made this situation harder to bear.

“You are to address us as ‘master’ at all times,” one of them said. I think his name was Ifan. It was hard to concentrate when my face stung where one of the men had hit me.

“Sorry, Master,” I said, as tears streamed down my face of their own accord.

***

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Imperfect Monster by Jennifer Bene

Author promotion.

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It’s the beginning of a new week, and I am thrilled to be joined by USA bestselling author, Jennifer Bene, and her hot dark release, Imperfect Monster.

Cold, ruthless, vicious.

I’m Paulo García’s monster, and I’d swallowed that bitter pill whole, learned to deal with it… until she stormed into the house like some avenging Valkyrie.

Brave, stupid, beautiful.

Nicky just wants to save her brother. She showed up with an envelope full of cash and a smart mouth and found herself in a den of monsters. I wish I could say I was the best of them, I wish I could say I wanted to protect her — but I’m far from perfect and she’s so damn sweet.

And all I want is a taste before this world destroys her.

Check out this NSFW dark snippet from the book…

***

Switching my hands to her hips I yanked her down the table, splitting her thighs around me, exposing her pink folds. Not wet. Yet. I could get her there. Nicky panicked when I ripped open the button to my pants, crying harder and trying to turn away. I almost flipped her onto her belly, but I wanted to see her face. Needed to.

I wrapped my arm around her thigh to hold her where I wanted her as I shoved everything out of the way, groaning in my chest as I wrapped a fist around the base of my cock. So tantalizingly close to her pussy. It would take so little effort to shove in, to hold her down… condom. After digging in my pocket I tore the foil between my teeth and rolled it on.

“No, no, no…” Nicky was pulling back, withdrawing, her eyes clenched tight as she shook her head back and forth on the table.  “Why? I didn’t do anything—” She was crying again, her voice tinted with the pathetic sound of it. “I didn’t do anything to you!”

There was a twinge in my chest, somewhere inside the inky blackness eating away at everything except the urge to own her, to take her while she was still her. Before Diego could have her, before Paulo ruined her. Her next sob was like a ripple in the black, and I ripped her up from the table, fist buried in her hair. Eyes open, wide and afraid on mine.

“Please,” she whispered, close enough to my face that I felt her exhale. Another shudder in the black, a flicker of something almost human.

I crushed her to my chest, my other arm moving around her waist to hold her in place so I could roll my hips against her, rubbing my latex-clad cock against her soft flesh. Her hair smelled like sunlight, warm and summery, and I clenched my jaw as I brushed my stubble against her neck. Women were always nervous in my bed, a hint of fear as they wondered what I’d do to them, and more often than not there was pain along with the pleasure. I didn’t do gentle, I couldn’t, but they always signed up for it. They wanted to taste the darkness. Nicky had just wanted to save her brother. Feeling the shiver rush through her muscles, the grip of her thighs around my hips, the hitched expansion of her ribs — it was perfect. She was perfect, and I didn’t want to ruin it… did I?

More importantly, could I stop myself?

***

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When darkness falls… #WIPItUp

#WIPItUp

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It’s Wednesday, and despite the fact that it’s nearly Christmas, my writing is getting darker. Hot from my keyboard this week,  I am sharing a snippet from the tale I’m currently working on… I’d love to hear your thoughts about this one! 😉

***

“Are you going to run, Molly?” His voice was calm, and almost amused as it questioned her.

She shifted her gaze to him at once, her face portraying her anxiety on the subject. “No,” she lied, her tone breathless.

“No?” He repeated back to her, that right brow arching in the tantalising way it did when he knew he was onto a winner.

“No,” she confirmed, shaking her head for good measure.

He put down the duffle bag, and moved towards her laughing. “You could run, you know,” he went on, his gaze intense as his tall body loomed over her.

Molly blinked up at her captor. “What?”

“You could run,” he affirmed. “If you wanted to? Your stories have always had an element of the cat and mouse about them, haven’t they, little one? I know you’d enjoy that, and you know I love the thrill of the chase.”

Adrenaline spiked in her body as he spoke. Was he giving her permission to flee from him?

“Yes,” he answered her, although she was certain she hadn’t spoken the words out loud. “You can run, Molly, but you know I’m going to chase you, and you know I’m going to catch you.”

Her heart was hammering in her chest as she arched her back, pinning her wide-eyed gaze onto him. “Why are you saying this?” she mumbled. And how do you know all of this?

His smile widened, and he pulled up a box from nearby, seating himself beside her. “After all this time, little one,” he purred. “Don’t you think I know you by now? I know what you’re thinking, Molly. You are quite literally an open book to me.”

She flushed, her head falling forward as though the admission was shameful. She was ashamed, because he was right. He did know her. He knew what she was going to be thinking, what she wanted, and just how to control her. It was bloody infuriating.

***

As this is the final #WIPItUp before the festivities, I’d like to wish you all a merry Christmas! Thanks for reading my blog, and here’s to a sizzling 2018…

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