It’s hump day, we’re half way through the week, and it’s time for another sneak peek into my WIP’s!
I’m half way through the final re-read of this particular book, and then it will be winging its way to my publisher. Before it does, take a look at this sexy little (18+ only) snippet…
“Put those wrists back where I put them,” I snap at her, and her eyes fly open at the instruction.
“Y-yes, sir,” she murmurs, her voice genuinely concerned as she obeys.
I press myself over my mons, forcing her thighs to spread even further for me. “If I have to remind you again then I will bind those wrists to the bed, pleasure you, fuck you, and then, when you think you can no longer take any more, I will flip you over and tan that hide of yours.”
Her body stills at my warning, and I glance up to her see her large eyes watching me.
“Are we clear, little fawn?” My voice is low as I chastise her.
“Yes, Logan… sir,” she replies.
I wait just a moment, holding her gaze, before I return my attention to her hot little snatch, lapping between her legs with new fervour. She gasps, writhing and twisting beneath me, even though she must know by now that her resistance is futile. I suck and lick her delicate skin as though my very essence depends upon it, and in some obscure way I feel like it does. I have never wanted anyone like this – never wanted to consume them – but then, there has never been anyone like her before.
It’s Saturday, and it’s time… Brace yourselves for your spanking! 😉
This week, my snippet is taken from one of my current WIP’s (which is actually with my beta readers as we speak!) In this scene we find out just why our protagonist deserves her penance so much…
I flinch, swallowing in air at the impact, which awakens the spanking Logan had given me earlier.
“Why are you being spanked?” His tone is harder as he spanks me again, and the resonance is deeply arousing. Heath has always been alluring, but without his older brothers to dominate him, it seems he is finally able to take on the leader’s role himself.
“I put myself in danger,” I murmur into the wood, pushing back against his hand as it lands against me again.
“When we found you gone, the thoughts which went through my head…” his voice trails away. “Honestly, you may not care about yourself, but in my brothers and I, you have found people who do. Have you got that?”
The crack of his palm reverberates around me, and I stretch my mouth wide at the hurt. “I’ve got it,” I whisper, although my words are lost in the sound of the next impact. For someone who claims to have never done this before, he has a good, hard swat, but once more the inadvertent consequence is the fervent desire pooling between my legs.
He spanks me again, followed by three insistent swats – one after the other.
“Heath, please…” My voice is croaky with need.
His palm stills at my plea, the fingers splaying, and two of them dip under the curve of my hot ass, exploring the wet pool they find there. “F**k,” he moans, pushing them inside my tight channel. “I can’t do this anymore. I just want to have you.”
I pant, rueing that the spanking is over, but secretly pleased that I am about to have his monster cock inside me again. “I’m yours,” I mewl, my eyes darting behind to find his face. “F**k me.”
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It’s hump day, and I’m up to my ears in edits! My current WIP is my first ménage for a few years, and it’s HAWT, so for #WIPItUp this week, I bring you the prelude to yet another sizzling scene…
She is as light as a feather as I carry her up the stairs, and I barely notice her vehement protests, or even the way she bangs her small fists against my back. I pass the first landing, travelling automatically to my own room.
“Hey, you big brute!” She yells, smacking my bare flesh again, “let me down now!”
I smile to myself. I enjoy her mettle, but I’m even more excited about fucking it out of her again. “Settle down,” reply, swatting the delicious ass which is just right of my face. Boy, I am going to enjoy devouring that later…
“I will not,” she whines, but already I can feel the fight lessening in her toned little body, and as we approach my doorway, the scent of her stark arousal wafts past my sensitive nostrils. The aroma goads me, hardening my long root in an instant. I know it will not have escaped the senses of my brothers either.
Striding to the centre of the room, I tumble her lightly to the bed, watching her as she rearranges her hair and limbs as my brothers enter behind me.
She appraises the three of us, her eyes wide, wary yet excited. “So, whose first?” She asks, her bravado laudable, but borderline comical at this point.
“I think you’ll find we call the shots, princess,” replies Ethan dryly. He strips his blue shirt from his back as he talks, eyeing her intently the whole time.
Mmm… She sounds like one lucky lady, right?! I’ll have more news on this hot WIP soon – it’ll be going out to my beta readers in the next week or so.
Need some more hot snippets? Join the #WIPitup blog hop right here!
Don’t forget to join me tonight for my Wicked Wednesday takeover at the Wicked Pens awesome Facebook page today! I’ll be there from 2.30 pm (EST)/7.30pm (BST), with fun, games and prizes. Hope to see you there!
It’s our favourite day of the week, right? With Saturday, comes the threat of yet another spanking… this time from my newly completed (unedited) WIP.
Logan smiles, nodding his head in that annoying, knowing way. “ It is our thinking that you should receive a sound spanking for your offenses, little Miss. Nothing too brutal of course, but…” He pauses for a moment, eyeing me with hunger. “We believe a tanned backside will help deliver the message to you.”
I take a step backwards, unable to hide the disgust his suggestion has awoken in me. “Y- you cannot be serious?” I stammer.
“We are deadly serious,” he replies, his tone serious and steadfast.
“I am a grown woman!” I cry out. “I should not be subject to such medieval treatment.”
The others in the room laugh, riling me up into a new state of fury. “Come now,” says Logan, taking a small step towards me. “We are not so medieval? If you yield to us on this matter, and accept your punishment, all things will be squared between us. I vow that we will help you to find your way home.”
I shift my weight, considering for the first time the action to which this giant alludes. Never before have I ever given thought to such a ridiculous idea. No man has ever threatened to punish me at all, let alone under such circumstances, and now, after such a hellish day, I find myself here, lectured to and threatened by these brutes of men.
“Well?” The blond one, Ethan, rises from his chair, and moves towards where his brother stands. “What do you say, Miss? Will you submit to us three, in our cottage in the woods?”
I swallow hard, throwing him one of my most withering looks. Beneath my t-shirt though, I feel my nipples hardening, and there’s no denying the throb I feel in the cleft between my legs. My eyes fall shut of their own accord, acknowledging my body’s strange reaction to what transpires around me. How can I find this situation a turn on? There is nothing even vaguely arousing about any of this! After all, I am held here against my will. There may be no chains or bondage, but I am a captive nonetheless. I can no more get past these massive men then I can teleport myself from the room.
“Well?” It is Logan’s voice which interrupts my thought process, and open my eyes to see him just a few inches from me. “Answer Ethan. Will you submit to our proposed punishment?”
I reel, jumping backwards at his sudden, close proximity. “What do you suggest?” I ask, standing up straight in the face of the anxiety which churns inside of me. “Tell me, please. No one has ever suggested such a penalty for me. I have never received so much as a slapped wrist before. What do you mean by a spanking?”
The atmosphere in the room shifts in an almost palpable way at my question, and I swear that all three of the men move closer as I speak. Logan swallows, the intensity in his eyes threatening to send sparks flying between us. “I intend to lay you face first over my lap, Goldi, but only once your shorts have first been removed.”
I gasp at his words, yet for some crazy reason I am unable to take my eyes from his face.
“Removed?” I say in little more than a gasp. “W-why should they be removed?”
He smiles. “Those shorts are designed for protection,” he replies. “I seek to offer you none during your penance.”
I shiver at the notion of it. “But, I shall be practically naked without them?” I murmur.
“We’re counting on it,” says Ethan, his tone menacing.
As you can tell, I have plenty of edits to get to, but if you need more delicious spankings, then don’t forget to drop into the other awesome blogs on the #SatSpanks hop this week!
It’s Saturday, and you know what they means… Time for your weekly spanking, everyone!
This week I am offering a sexy spanking excerpt from one of my three WIP’s.
This particular story is still shrouded in some secrecy, but I’d like to offer you another small taster… Remember this is unedited, but here’s a spanking for pleasure (warning this snippet is for aged 18+ ONLY.)
He licks his lips, slowly drawing that large pink tongue from one side of his mouth to the other. “Well, in that case,” he muses out loud. “I would gladly spank you again, but not as a penance, Goldi. This time, I would spank you for pleasure.”
His eyes are the deepest type of blue I have ever seen, and some how they draw me forward, and closer against his body. “For pleasure?” I barely recognise the sound of my own voice – it’s raspy tone is breathy and excited.
“Yes, for pleasure,” he says again, and then, pressing his enormous erection against my hip, he continues. “I will spank that delicious ass of yours, make you cum so hard you won’t know what’s hit you, and then my little imp, I will fuck you into tomorrow.”
My body responds to his words reflexively. My laboured breaths increase, my chest rising and falling at speed. My already tight nipples bead painfully, pushing through the cotton of my tee-shirt, and the dampness between my legs intensifies.
“I can tell that you like the sound of that,” he chuckles darkly.
This time around at the Replay resort, it’s World War I weekend, and vocalist Lara Eastman is one of the entertainers hired to help bring the past to life. The offer comes at a time when she’s worried about how to pay her bills. She accepts the job but declines getting vetted to play—something that she quickly regrets when she meets not one but two very attractive—and very Dominant—pilots.
Alexander Boulton is the resort owner’s cousin. This weekend, the handsome Brit is flying a Sopwith Camel against his rival Dmitry Chezhekov, a Russian-born pilot who portrays a German flying ace. On the ground, the red-haired singer comes under both men’s sights.
Lara meets Alex first, but she’s equally attracted to Dmitry. She rarely hooks up at events, but Alex and Dmitry will prove the exception to her rules. The truth is, she wants them both. Unwilling to settle for one when she can have it all, Lara proposes a threesome.
The men are fierce competitors. Each is determined to bring her the ultimate in pleasure. Only one thing is certain. If they want her, they’ll have to learn to share.
Written for ages 18+.
Ready to dive into Replay 7? Check out this tempting little teaser…
An air raid signal sounded. German soldiers grabbed their guns and took their places behind the sandbag barriers. The planes came in low, strafing the field. Bursts of blank rounds sounded from the German rifles. Puffs of dirt flew into the air from charges that had been laid earlier. The way that they detonated, it looked like bullets from the planes were hitting the ground.
Meanwhile, the German pilots were scrambling, climbing in their fighters, strapping on goggles, and preparing to start their engines. Five ground crew members each took hold of a propeller and gave it a spin. The radial engines roared to life. Freed of their wheel chocks, the planes headed for the runway.
Dmitry was the last to take off, but his Fokker’s superb climbing ability allowed him to quickly join the others. They flew only far enough to turn and meet the British head on.
From her vantage point, Dmitry and Alex’s planes seemed to be on a collision course. She held her breath and fisted her gloved hands, watching, hoping, trusting that nothing went wrong. At the last minute, the Sopwith Camel pulled up, barely missing the Fokker.
More passes were made. Planes were “disabled.” Billowing trails of blue smoke, the downed German planes landed here. The “crippled” British planes returned to their imaginary base.
Finally, only three were left. Dmitry, Alex, and another British pilot engaged in a stunning display of aerial combat, with all the climbs, rolls, and maneuvers that you’d expect in a big-budget motion picture. Eventually, Dmitry simulated being shot, leaving a trail of smoke as he landed. The two British planes flew off, victorious after their successful raid.
Cheers broke out from the crowd. When the applause had quieted, Sir Piers addressed the spectators who’d come out for the morning battle.
“Thank you,” he said. “What an amazing display! The pilots shall all return shortly and will be joining us. Lunch will be served at eleven thirty, to our reenactors, patrons, staff members, and guests. The next reenactment, scheduled this afternoon at one, will be a German attack on a French airfield. The final battle today at five pm will be a different version of this scenario. Meanwhile, the bar will soon be open in the casino tent, where games of chance, music, and conversation may be found for those who wish to stay the day.”
While they had been watching the combat demonstration, a crew of workers had erected yet another tent, yellow striped with two massive center posts and a roof that would cover a one-ring circus. She guessed that tables, chairs, and equipment were being carried in through a back opening. The casino’s front door flaps were closed.
“I’m afraid that it is off limits to you, my dear,” Sir Piers said, “where you are not vetted. Pity, but rules are rules where scenes are concerned.”
“I understand,” she assured him. “But the day is lovely. You’ve provided food, and shelter from the sun. A place to sit and things to see. I’m hoping to get a closer look at the planes, if they’ll let me.”
“I’m certain that can be arranged.” He lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I know people.”
Lara laughed. “I’m sure that you do. Hopefully, he’ll be back soon.”
Sir Piers strained his ear, listening. “I do believe that I hear a familiar stutter headed this way. Alex should be here shortly. I must leave soon to check on the situation at home. With luck, I will not return alone. We shall see.”
The German soldiers were already headed for the food tent. The ground crews and pilots followed. Lara sat in one of four folding chairs at a small round table in a shady corner of the space. With tea to drink and a scone to nibble on, she settled in to people watch. It always fascinated her when costumed civilians and military reenactors intermingled. And she loved listening to the reenactors who regaled each other with stories. It truly was like stepping back in time.
Being a single female, sitting alone and therefore perceived as available, she halfway expected to be approached by the men, and possibly some of the women. Introducing herself as a non-vetted performer worked like a charm. Most of these people were here to play.
The only one who seemed to not mind that she couldn’t was Dmitry. But then, she suspected that he looked upon her as a special challenge. He took his time coming over, accepting accolades from the other reenactors and chatting with a few other guests. Helping himself to a plate of late breakfast and a cup of coffee, he headed straight for her.
“I sit here, da?”
Lara managed to not smile. “If that’s a question—May yousit here?—the answer is yes. Yes, you may sit with me.”
Dmitry took the chair to her right. His plate was heavy on protein and lower on carbs. He spiked his coffee with a dash of whatever he was carrying in an antique silver flask. Slipping it back inside his brown leather aviator’s jacket, he flashed an unrepentant grin. “A touch,” he said. “Safe to fly later. Safe to sit now. Tonight, I listen to you. When done, maybe you listen to me. We see.”
Alex’s voice dashed the flame that Dmitry’s smoldering delivery had ignited inside her, but only for a moment. Alex and Dmitry were rivals in the air, but were they willing to share? She didn’t want to choose between them. She wanted them both, if only for the weekend.
Which brought her to all of the obstacles that must be overcome. She wasn’t vetted. If the men could be talked into a threesome, it would be vanilla sex in Dmitry’s room at the resort, quiet kink at her bed and breakfast, or permission to use the St. Leger’s Dungeon for a full-blown session of kinky f**kery.
She knew what she wanted.
Lara wanted it all.
“Alex,” Lara chirped, hoping that she managed to sound relatively innocent. So many naughty thoughts were in her head right now, her mind was doing a spin that would have earned her a nine point five at the Winter Olympics. “Won’t you join us?”
Dmitry bristled, but she ignored it. Better to find out now if there was hope for both men tonight. They would have to agree on a number of things—first and foremost, could they play with her together, or would she need to keep them apart?
Alex looked at his plate, at Dmitry, at her. “I believe that I shall. Thank you.” He took the chair to her left, sandwiching her between them.
Alex’s plate was a balance of protein and carbs. He and Dmitry had both taken sausage links and scrambled eggs, but Alex had added hash browns, a biscuit with butter and jelly, and several pieces of fresh fruit. Dmitry had opted for half a biscuit smothered in sausage gravy and no potatoes.
Dmitry seemed to be enjoying the Russian equivalent of Irish coffee. Alex drank milk and nodded approvingly at her tea.
“So, tell me,” she said, looking at Alex. “This morning’s combat. From down here, it looked like you two were going to take each other out. When you’re sharing airspace, how close do you get before you pull away?”
He sliced an apologetic glance at Dmitry. “Today, closer than I like. The controls were slow to respond. I’ll check it out before I take her up again.”
Lara took a breath and looked at Dmitry, too. “You didn’t try to avoid him. No evasive action that I saw, anyway.””
Dmitry shrugged as if it were no big deal. “He was close. I wait. He move.”
“Well,” she said, glancing at each man, connecting them with her gaze, “I’ve seen you share airspace. I was wondering if—hoping that?—I might tempt you to share more. Just so you know, I’m not a trained submissive. I’ve never done anything much beyond having my wrists tied, wearing a blindfold, and getting spanked. Pretty vanilla, I know. But I’m willing, if you are. Except that not being vetted limits us to what we can do on Replay property. I’m going to leave you two to figure it out. Come tonight and hear me sing. After the concert, you can tell me what you want to do.”
She left them sitting, speechless. It was a temporary state, she was certain. While she went to look at the airplanes, they were probably stabbing at their breakfasts and dueling with each other for supremacy.
There can be only one…
Could two Doms be in control? She thought so. She hoped so. One thing was certain. If they wanted her, they’d have to learn to share.