I am thrilled to be joined by the lovely, Vanessa Brooks, who brings us her latest hot read, Her Match Her Mate Her Master!
This epic tale begins in Georgian England then travels back across the wide Atlantic Ocean into the wilds of America.
A couple mismatched?
Are they attracted to one another?
An adventure that begins with a tempestuous honeymoon and ends with ship wreck. A Lady unsuited to the rigors of the wilderness is kidnapped by natives.
Does this story end well?
Vanessa’s not telling! Read it for yourself and find out!
But most of all buckle up and enjoy this rollercoaster of a read!
Read on for a steamy excerpt from the book…
He admired her gorgeous hair, a pool of gleaming copper. Soft, silken, tendrils trailed like fire over the creamy mounds of her breasts, nipples taut, exposed to his carnal gaze. He ached with the need to mate her; she was irresistible, ravishing. Standing, he peeled off his clothes, turning to face her, his manhood pulsing stiffly from his groin.
“Look at me, wife,” he commanded. She gazed at him, never having seen a man naked before, she was fascinated; her eyes devoured the sight of his tumescent hardness that testified his desire for her. How proudly it jutted, long and thick. Were all men made so, she wondered. Her eyes travelled down his long powerful legs, covered in whorls of dark curling hair, the plain of his flat stomach, the wide, well-muscled chest, coated in the same dark hair. Her gaze took in his broad shoulders and strong biceps. Linnet’s gaze finally settled on John’s lean face.
Disconcertingly, he watched her beneath those hooded inscrutable grey eyes, his stare unwavering. As he moved purposefully towards the bed she shyly, nervously, shifted over to accommodate him. He gathered her into his embrace, kissing and caressing her. He began to stir her passion once more. His deft fingers worked their magic, her furrow quivering, slickly plump with desire. He slowly moved above her, this time she parted her legs unconsciously welcoming, he guided himself to her waiting cleft.
With a thrust, he drove into her yielding channel, she lifted her hips, bucking, meeting thrust for thrust, needing him.
“Now,” he whispered hoarsely, “now… you see, you are mine.”
I’ve spent the week utterly immersed in my Viking romance, so it’s a pleasure to bring you all a sexy spanking snippet from the new book.
His hands are on me, his hot flesh skimming over my cooler skin. I’m aware of one hand coming to rest at my shoulders, and the other sweeping down past the small of my back to the vulnerable, exposed orbs of my bottom.
“It is time I punish you once more,” he purrs from over me.
I open my mouth to respond, but all at once that hand is gone, replaced by a hard swat to my backside. The sting is immediate, warming the area, before his palm lands the second strike.
“These long days journeying home, and your near impeccable behaviour has meant I have been remiss in my duties to redden your delicious bottom.” His voice has taken on a compelling sing-song quality, and I am almost lost in it, until the next swat lands. This one is much harder, producing a small yelp from me. “You must accept my apology for that,” he says, breathlessly. “Know that now I am back in Lundborg, I will dedicate myself to giving you the attention you deserve, and reminding you of your place.”
Three further strikes land in fast succession, creating a dull ache from behind me. My hips roll forward, an unfortunate, but inevitable consequence Anders’ spankings seem to produce in me.
“Yes, my sweeting,” he says, his voice vibrating over me. “You have come a long way in the time you’ve been mine Aurelie, but you should not forget your place. You shall not command me, nor any man of my blood, and you certainly must learn to hold your tongue. By the time this spanking is done, I hope the point will be much clearer for you, my sweeting. Do you understand me?”
I moan at the next impact, taking a moment to absorb the pain before I answer him. “Yes, My Lofðungr,” I groan, feeling the moisture pooling between my thighs already. Whatever it is about being taken in hand by a powerful man, Anders has it in good measure. The strikes are hard, but despite the pain, I am moved by his sentiment. I have upset Anders by speaking out of turn, and I am rueful to have done so. Now, I must accept my penance, and hope I am still able to sit down when I am introduced to the King tomorrow.
I look forward to getting this story out into the world. In the meantime, read where Anders and Aurelie first met in my #1 bestseller, The Viking’s Conquest.
It’s finally Friday, and I am thrilled to be joined by Kate Charlton, who brings her latest sweet historical romance, Her Convict Constable.
She’s survived the mean streets of Manchester and slavery in a mill.
Can she survive a brutal penal colony?
In the book, convict Tilly Marsden has to serve four years as an unpaid maid in Australia before she can get the prized Ticket of Leave.
With freedom only two months away, Tilly agrees to turn a friend’s shirt into a dress. When she discovers it was stolen, she throws it in the river.
Watching her is Joel Agnew, a convict working as an unpaid police constable. Sensing Tilly deserves a break, he dishes out some old-fashioned discipline. They both think that’s the end of the matter.
Then a body is discovered and Tilly finds herself in danger. Can Joel help her before it’s too late?
Publisher’s Note: Her Convict Constable is a sweet romance with a bit of mystery and old-fashioned Victorian discipline.
Read on for a tempting spanking teaser from the book…
She could feel the constable’s eyes appraising her. Her cheeks burned and a million worries ran through her mind. Was he going to ask for sexual favours in exchange for letting her go? She’d have to agree if he did, even though she was scared and had no experience. She’d just have to pray she didn’t get pregnant or she’d end up back in Crime Class anyway. And they’d take the baby away from her when it was weaned, she’d never be given a chance to look after it.
Tears welled up again. Irritated, she blinked and swallowed hard, determined not to show the constable how upset she was.
“Well, by the look of you, you’re sorry about what you did,” said the constable. “And if you’ve come this close to getting your Ticket of Leave, I think maybe a different kind of lesson will do you more good than marching you back to the Female Factory.”
The relief that washed over Tilly was brief. The constable gripped her arm more firmly and pulled her closer towards him.
She steeled herself. This was it. She had to do whatever he wanted, whether that was sucking his cock or letting him take her up the arse or whatever he was into. If she wanted her Ticket of Leave she had no choice.
She gasped as he tucked her under his arm so that she was bent over, bum in the air. Oh, lawks, he was going to spank her. She hadn’t been spanked since she was fifteen and the supervisor at the mill had punished her and Sarah for being half a minute late for work. He’d put her first, then Sarah, over his knees, lifted their shifts and spanked their bare bottoms in front of everybody at the mill, including the men and boys. The spanking had left painful black bruises, but the humiliation had been worse. She hadn’t been able to meet the eyes of the other mill workers for days.
Now, Tilly kicked out at the constable in panic. “Enough!” he said firmly, gripping her harder. “Do that once more and I’ll fasten you in the stocks to do this.”
Tilly forced herself to calm down. She braced herself for the constable to bare her bottom.
But he didn’t. Instead he smoothed the shift down, making sure her bum was covered. But when his large hand descended in a scorching slap that made her squeak, Tilly realised the thin, rough material didn’t offer much protection. Time stood still as the constable peppered her backside with slap after slap, each one as loud as it was painful. All she could do was gasp, squirm and yelp, and pray that no-one would come along to investigate the noise and see her
being spanked. Desperately, she tried to move away but this only resulted in him grasping her even more firmly and smacking even harder.
Sadly, it’s the final ever #WIPItUp, so to mark the event I’m posting a hot, sexy snippet all about pleasure…
In this scene from my forthcoming Viking sequel, Aurelie is about to receive gratification, but is it more than she can handle?
His lips begin at my right thigh, planting soft caresses north to where my glistening sex awaits. He pauses, lifting his gaze to look upon my body before he continues. His huge hands press my legs down into the bed, leaving me open for him, ready to be devoured. I gasp, taking small, shallow breaths as he turns his attention to the waves of dark curls which protect my trembling lips. The weight of Anders’ hot mouth is on me at once, his tongue parting my folds and lapping at the sensitive flesh inside.
I buck against him wildly, trying to contain myself, but quite unable to manage the task. His right-hand snakes at my thigh, lifting my behind enough to plant a short swat there. I yelp, but I understand the meaning of the spank:
Be still or bear the consequences.
Drawing in a deep breath, I fight for composure as his mouth consumes me, my fingers balling into fists in the bedding beside me. He continues his relentless task of pleasuring my delicate flesh, one long lap following the next, my lips opened and exposed to his attention.
At length, I begin to relax into the routine of his love-making, each flick of his tongue drawing fewer gasps from my open mouth. Sensing my acceptance of his deed, he seems to refocus, his mouth journeying north to find my small, pulsating bud at the apex of my sex. As his lips clamp onto it, I squeal, physically lifting from the bed, save for him anchoring me here.
“Oooh!” I cry out, glancing down between my legs to see his long blond hair in position there.
His eyes flicker up to me for a moment – the gaze loaded with dark and debauch sin – and then he is gone, consumed once again with the task at his lips. I fall backwards, my collar keeping me in place as my back arches, splaying myself as wide as I can. Now I am ready to receive his gift – more than ready. The heat and intensity of his mouth goading the waves of pleasure as they rise in me, threatening to crash me against the rocks at any moment. Once again, my lover seems to recognise the subtle changes in me, and rather than relenting, he redoubles his efforts, tormenting my exasperated little bud to distraction. I squirm, bucking against his face to gain the sweet friction which I need to take me right to the precipice.
Hope Wallace left Atlanta after being betrayed by her family and friends in the worst way. Now, running a homeless shelter in downtown Miami, she was finally doing what she wanted with her life and working at putting the past behind her. The only thing marring her happiness was the constant desire to explore the BDSM lifestyle her new friends enjoyed so much. She had tried that once, and it led to disaster and losing everything, but the urges kept pulling at her until she finally succumbed and braved going to a club.
Miles Cavenaugh fell for Hope the minute he saw her bruised face and determination to protect a friend and resident at her shelter. His violent childhood kept him from forming relationships, his fear of losing his temper if he came across someone harming an innocent woman or child made him anti-social and preferring to stick with his close friends for companionship. But when he hears Hope is at a local BDSM club while there is a serial abuser of submissives making the rounds in Florida, he rushes to ensure she stays safe.
Unable to continue keeping each other at arm’s length, Miles and Hope agree to a short-term affair where he’ll introduce her to the lifestyle she craved until she got her interest out of her system. But an unknown person is determined that Hope not find the happiness that has eluded her for so long and both Miles and her may have waited too long to come clean with each other about their pasts.
Check out a sizzling snippet from the book…
Holding his hand out, Miles helped her up yet again, taking the pugil stick from her and dropping it to the mat as he said, “You caught on quick, Hope, but that doesn’t mean I’ll slide on your punishment.”
Both her buttocks and her pussy clenched at the word ‘punishment’ and a frisson of excitement danced under her skin when her mind took her back to another place, another Dom and her first taste of erotic pain. “But…” she cast a quick look around the small gym then at the door. “Here?”
With a low laugh that set off a flutter of butterflies in Hope’s abdomen, Miles spun her around, swiped both feet out from under her with one leg and kept one arm braced around her middle as he lowered her on top of the large padded pole. “Here, and now,” he whispered in her ear as he adjusted her hips over the pugil, leaving her butt propped up. “Stay where I put you.” Swiping a hand over her buttocks, he squeezed one cheek. “We didn’t discuss a safe word last week because that was fun, I didn’t intend any punishment that time. For now, we’ll stick with the standard red for stopping everything; green, you’re good to continue and yellow for you’re unsure.”
Hope was familiar with the stoplight cues due to Sandie and Krista sharing a few of their scenes whenever they got together. With a hard tug, Miles yanked her gi pants down to her thighs followed by her panties. As her butt became exposed to the cool air-conditioning, and embarrassment over the ignominious position he placed her in gave way to excitement, she prayed she could remember even those simple instructions.
“Put your arms behind your back and grip your hands together,” Miles instructed as he caressed his palm over the smooth, soft skin of her lush ass. Propped up on his side next to her, he enjoyed the view of plump, lily-white buttocks elevated for his enjoyment. “Good girl,” he praised her when she obeyed without question. “You’ve got a world-class ass, Hope. I’m envisioning all kinds of things I’d like to do with it. Tell me about your one experience in a club.”
With one side of her face pressed against the mat, the one eye he could see widened in surprise. “Why?”
He swatted her ass, hard enough to jiggle the round globe. “Don’t question my demands.”
Small, white teeth sunk into her plump lower lip before she replied. “I went to a club with some friends, just out of curiosity. Accepting a dare, I landed over a Dom’s lap. That’s all, not much to it. We left right afterward.”
“Then why did you tell me last week it ended badly?” He caressed the warm, red handprint his smack left behind and watched pleasure dilate her eyes. That quick, unguarded response was every Dom’s wet dream. Too bad this was a punishment scene.
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…
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!
Happy hump day! Sadly, this is my penultimate #WIPItUp blog post, so I wanted to being you something juicy and a little longer than normal… As a result, I’m offering an exclusive sizzling excerpt from my new Viking romance, the follow up to the #1 best-selling book, The Viking’s Conquest! Read on to enjoy!
The nights this far north seem endless, and when I open my eyes again the room is still shrouded with darkness. Rolling to my right side, I find my Viking sleeping peacefully next to me, and I press myself into his body heat. I have had such few opportunities to explore his body. I am usually either bound, or being commanded in some other shameful, though tantalising way, but rarely do I have free reign to touch him. I press my palm into his chest, trailing it south over his torso. My fingers run over the firm contours of his abdominals, following the muscles as they taper down towards his groin. I smile into his side, knowing full well where my fingers are going next. Desire swells at my centre, goading me to continue, and my index finger nudges against the nest of hair at his manhood.
Excitement races through me at the prospect of being able to handle Anders’ magnificent cock without supervision, and unthinkingly my digits move into his coarse hair. I find his organ, already semi-erect, and stirring at my limited stimulation of his body. Nervous energy floods my mind. I am finally going to get to play with his erection – after all of the immense frustration and pleasure it has brought me over the last months. I can barely believe it. I wrap my hand around the lower shaft, fisting it gently and gleeful as it hardens under my touch.
“What is this?” Anders’ tone is sleepy, yet there’s no denying the rasping eroticism laced within it. “I see my little sweeting is awake already?”
My fist stills, yet I squeeze his cock gently, willing it to swell further for me. “I am sorry, My Lofðungr,” I murmur up his body. “I can hardly resist you.” I glance up at him in the shadows, “are you angry with me?”
His left arm sweeps up my body, across my shoulders and his fingers are suddenly in my hair. “Not angry, Aurelie,” he chortles as his digits grip into my locks. “Though perhaps increasingly stunned by your growing pluck.”
The early morning light is still weak, and I blink into the darkness, uncertain if he is amused or upset with me. “Forgive me,” I whisper. “I do so desire you, Anders.”
He is on me in a moment, spinning me onto my back and capturing one, and then two wrists, which he contains easily in his right hand. “You are becoming rather informal, Aurelie,” he breathes, pulling my imprisoned wrists up behind my head.
I gasp, my head whirring at the dramatic change of events. Is he cross with me, or just playing? It seems impossible to tell. I glance up to his expression in the half-light, looking to his scintillating blue eyes for clues. “Again, forgive me,” I splutter, apparently full of apologies this morning.
He assesses me, his powerful body pinioning mine to the bed below us. My ass, still sore from last night’s punishments rubs painfully against the covers. “I am pleased that you desire me,” he smiles, “and yet I think you forget your place, My Lady .”
My heart pounds at his words, and the sensual threat they promise.
“You do not touch me without permission, are we clear on this?” His tone is firm, but he doesn’t raise his voice, and somehow the cool, calm persona is all the more disconcerting.
“Yes, My Lofðungr,” I reply in a hurried whisper. “We are clear.”
His hard-set features thaw a little at my evident trepidation, his eyes now just visible from the first light of dawn. Anders’ gaze holds me in place, immobilising me with his intensity, as much as his body. “Good,” he answers finally. “I will punish you for this transgression, my sweeting, although as yet I am undecided how. I will make up my mind in due course, and deliver your penance this evening.” He pauses, lowering his face to kiss my mouth in an unhurried way. I squirm beneath him, passion pooling at my core at the casual authority and control he has over me. The feeling of his hardness nudging my hip does little to alleviate my growing desire. “We have an important day today,” he continues as he draws away. “I want you to remember what awaits you this evening as the day passes.” He smiles at this, obviously imagining the agonising anticipation which will torment me. I imagine it too, and all at once it feels hard to breathe.
The final reworks of this book are underway right now, and I hope to bring you the latest chapter of Anders and Aurelie’s love affair in the coming weeks.
It’s Sunday, and today Jane Burrelli is helping to make it all the more sinful with her new release, Hidden Embers. Check out the book details below…
When the gods breathed life into us, they blessed us with an element. It’s a pity they didn’t care to bless anything else.
The Empress of the Throne of Flames is assassinated. Acting as a decoy to protect the next Empress, the undervalued Princess Nymira flees to the north. She must now carry the sacred sword, the symbol of her people and rejoin the Empress.
It is a mission Mira cannot fail but first, she must traverse the Western wastelands. The journey is perilous and the once sheltered princess finds herself rescued by the Ice Lord, Zorren. The leader of the Iceari, the natural enemy to Firelanders.
Zorren is reputed to be a ruthless leader and Mira fights the attraction that blazes between them. Resulting in a clash of not only their wills but also their elements. After all, fire and ice don’t mix. Or do they?
This is book one of the new Bride of Fire series. Join the journey to a mystical world and the adventure and romance that awaits.
Publisher’s Note: This fantasy romance is intended for adults only and contains elements of danger, suspense, mystery, adventure, and sensual scenes set in an apocalyptic world.
Here’s a sexy snippet from the book…
“What in the Goddess’ name are you doing?” I screeched.
Rearing up I found a firm hand planted in the center of my back pinning me in place. The only thing I had succeeded in doing was loosening my own trews. To my horror, his fingers curled into the waistband. I threw my hips from side to side, my attempts at evasion pitiful.
“You can’t do this!” My protests went unheeded.
He calmly took a firm grasp of my hips and threw his leg over mine. Panting, I found I couldn’t move, trapped like a creature in a snare. “I’m making sure I can see if I truly hurt you.”
The fabric rasped over my tender skin. Shivering, my squirming bottom revealed to the elements, the chilled air bringing a moment of relief. “Trust me, it hurt.”
His hand rubbed the reddened flesh, murmuring, “Your skin colours so easily.”
The touch ignited a steady throb between my legs—what in Khatri’s name? The pause allowed me to gather my wits.
“Do you know why you are in this position?”
Khatri’s tits, he wanted to talk now! “Because you can’t abide being defied!” I hissed, struggling to concentrate on anything but calloused fingers now tracing patterns on my heated flesh.
Closer and closer to the apex and I wiggled, longing for more of the same. The soft touch lingering at the sensitive crease where buttock met thigh. I shivered but it was different from the previous man who had touched me. It wasn’t revulsion, it ignited a fire that I didn’t know how to put out. “
Is that what you think?”
Lazily the finger drew back and forth, and my muscles jerked in response. The unexpected wallop shattered the first inklings of pleasure and sent my cheeks bouncing. The sting increasing tenfold without clothing to mute it.
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.
In the book, twin sisters Frankie and Kat Fontaine, are wilful, undisciplined, highly skilled in weapons, and fiercely determined to find the infamous master of the black pirate ship called the Nemesis. Jacques LaSalle, the owner of that ship, is the blackguard that attacked their father’s merchant vessel, killing their father and abducting their mother. First they will find out what happened to their mother, and then they will have their revenge.
Jacques LaSalle is intrigued and amused when he hears that a beautiful raven haired woman has been scouring the Caribbean for him and intends to challenge him. No one has ever bested Jacques in a fight but he soon finds that Frankie is much more of a challenge than he thought. He intends to claim her for his own if she’ll stop trying to kill him long enough.
Morgan MacAlister is the pirate governor of the new colony, the Pirate’s Hideaway, and his gut instincts tell him that trouble is coming to his island paradise. When the mighty Aphrodite sails into his harbour carrying a set of twin sisters, the gorgeous redheaded sprite of the duo sets his senses on fire.
It’s a hot time on the high seas when the two arrogant men figure out that the twins have the power to rock their worlds. But the girl’s haughty attitude and lack of respect may well earn them several trips over a knee before it’s all said and done.
Sounds yummy, right? Check out this sizzling little snippet…
Jacques watched his helpless prisoner as she twisted and fought to no avail.
“Lucky for you, Frenchy will not bring charges against you for trying to kill him. He is leaving your punishment to me, ma petite. Something I plan to thoroughly enjoy.”
He stepped in close to Frankie’s body, his hands slipping to her breasts. They were full and firm to the touch and he could enjoy them at will. He lightly teased the buds through her clothing, causing her nipples to harden in response.
“I bet the Spaniard enjoyed these, did he not? The real question is, did you enjoy it this much?”
He smiled in satisfaction as a groan escaped her trembling lips. He wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled her close against his chest, the hard nipples crushed against him as his mouth sought her full rosy lips.
Frankie moaned and tried to twist her head from side to side, trying in vain to avoid his capture. Her senses swam and her breasts ached against the hardness of his broad muscles. His mouth was so close to hers she could feel his warm breath with only a whisper to separate them. Was this how he was going to punish her? Surely he would not take her against her will?
“Frankie, you cannot deny the flames between us. Let yourself go, ma Cherie.” His tongue lightly teased her lips, gently parting them and sliding into her mouth. He felt her buck against him as she responded in spite of herself.
Smiling, he stepped away from her. “This could all have been avoided if you had just cooperated with me earlier. But now your stubbornness will cost you.” Slowly, he began to unbutton her shirt, allowing his tongue to trace the soft flesh, as it was unveiled.
“So, it comes to this?” she spat at him in her fury. “You are going to just take what you want without permission?”
“Non, I won’t have to take anything,” he assured her. “You will be begging me. Your body gives you away, ma petite.”
“Go to hell!” Frankie stood proudly, knowing she was fighting a losing battle to withstand this assault on her senses.
She was helpless to do anything but whimper in protest as his tongue trailed liquid fire across her breasts and down her stomach. Finally, he stopped, and she slumped in relief.
“What to do with these clothes?” he murmured wickedly, knowing the effect his “torture” was having on her. “Ah, well, clothes can be replaced.”
“What are you doing?” she cried, silently cursing the blindfold when she felt the cold touch of steel on her back as the shirt was cut. It increased her other senses when she couldn’t see. Sound, hearing, touch, all were heightened to a sharper clarity, especially the sensations her shivering body was experiencing. “You have no right!”
“I have every right to punish you when you break the rules,” he replied silkily. “How I do so, of course, is up to me.” He chuckled as his knife made short work of the trousers and undergarments, leaving his proud pirate in nothing but her boots and her long raven hair cascading down her stiff spine.
A little humiliation would do her a world of good. Walking behind her, he ran his palm down her smooth back and over the satiny softness of her buttocks, admiring the firmness beneath their soft covering. Trailing around to the front, his fingers blazed a path across her flat stomach. She was mouth watering. Her slender waist narrowed to lush hips, then down to long slim legs encased in black boots to the knees. The sight was intoxicating, and his body couldn’t be any more responsive to her charms. He was beginning to wonder who was torturing who.
Grab the book right here, and find more of Brandy at the following places: