Tuesday 26 January 2016

Book Showcase: Timeless by @BrynleyBush #EroticRomance #FlavoursofSage

Timeless by Brynley Bush

Marcus Dunn came into my life ten years ago and possessed me body and soul, introducing me to a world of dark and forbidden pleasures before disappearing without a word. 
I’ve never forgiven him. 
Or forgotten him. 

Walking away from Ariana McKnight was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. 
But running into her after all these years, handcuffed to a spanking bench, has me forgetting everything I promised myself ten years ago. 
I still can’t have her. 
But I can’t stay away. 

One tough FBI agent who longs to give her power away—just not to him. 
One former Navy SEAL who wants to take it, but can offer her nothing in return. 
One snowbound weekend in the middle of nowhere with no choice but to resolve their unfinished business. 

***STANDALONE NOVELLA *** (Black Brothers series) 

ASIN: B019FKGD2O

BUY LINKS:

UK BUY LINKS:

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SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

EXCERPT
"Are you sure about this?" my friend Tori asks, shooting me a doubtful glance as we pull into the drop-off lane at the Austin airport.  She frowns. "I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”
"You're one to talk," I tease as I open the door. "I swear I saw rope marks on your wrists this morning."
She has the good grace to blush at that.
I open the passenger door as Tori slams the car into park and gets out to follow me around to the back. Damn, but that woman can be persistent. It's one of the many reasons she’s one of the top FBI agents in the field office where we both work, and why I love being assigned to work cases with her.  That and the fact that she’s one of my closest friends, along with Kate, the other female agent in our office who’s the third member of our bad-ass girl gang.
"If you want to see if you like being tied up, fine," she continues as I lift my carry-on bag out of the trunk. "I’m not judging, I promise. I just don't think your first experience with BDSM should be at a weekend retreat out in the middle of nowhere where you don't know anyone.  Find a guy you like, get to know him, and then explore your fantasies with him."
"You're the one who told me about the retreat," I remind her.
She rolls her eyes. "I thought you were asking for a case."
I love Tori, but she has no idea what it's like to be me.  She's married to one of the sexiest and most self-confident men I’ve ever met, who in addition to being rumored to have singularly erotic tastes, also happens to be charming, wickedly funny, an incredibly talented singer, and completely and unequivocally in love with his wife. 
I set my bag down and look her in the eye. "That would be ideal,” I agree, “but men like Drake are rare. You're lucky that you found someone who's not intimidated by your job.  Men are only into me until they find out who I am or what I do. After that they either run for the hills or become groveling idiots.  After eight to ten hours a day of being a bad ass, I just want someone else to take charge.  Is that so wrong?”
Tori sighs.  “Of course not.  I just don’t know if this is the best way to go about finding what you want.”
"I can’t think of a better way,” I say resolutely.  “This is actually perfect.  I can explore what it’s like, and what I like, without any strings attached, and I won’t run into anyone I know since it’s in Denver.   And you said yourself that your brother-in-law’s friend who organized the retreat is both classy and experienced with this…kind of thing.”
Tori nods slowly.  “That’s true.  He’s owned an exclusive club in Houston for years and I know he’ll make sure things stay safe and consensual.”
“Don't worry. I’ll be fine," I assure her. "I catch bad guys for a living, same as you. You should know better than anyone that I can protect myself."
"I'm more worried about your heart,” she mutters darkly as I give her one last hug before walking into the airport.
My heart is the last thing I’m worried about.  I’ve given up on finding anyone worthy of it, and I certainly have no intention of giving it to anyone.  My body, on the other hand, is another story.  It craves a man who can own it, who can take my senses, my power, and my choice and give me freedom in return.   I want a man strong enough to possess me, a man I can surrender to, who can take what he wants and in the process, pry the world from my tight grip and set me free to just feel and experience.
I sigh.  If I didn’t know a man like that existed, maybe I’d be content to settle for less.  But I found it once, and that one man who made love to me a lifetime ago has ruined me for everyone since.  I don’t even know why I’m thinking about Marcus Dunn now.  It’s been ten years since he pinned my hands over my head and drove into me with a force that sent me spiraling into pleasure I’d never experienced before or since.  I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the unwanted memory of him—the sculpted hard planes of his tanned face, his powerful body that he worked so hard to keep in prime condition, the way his smile reached his expressive brown eyes, and his naturally commanding presence that demanded respect and deference from everyone he came in contact with.

I shake my head, mentally shoving the memories back into the box distinctly marked Do Not Open.  I distract myself by talking to the sweet five-year-old seated next to me, and when my plane lands in Denver, I’ve successfully banished all thoughts of the man I shared the best summer of my life with.  I’m ready to have some fun, and if things work out the way I hope, some mind-blowing sex!

Monday 25 January 2016

Guest Interview with @TrevannRogers #PNR #MM #FlavoursofSage

The business ones

Please give us a short introduction about yourself.
Hello there! I'm Trevann Rogers. I love writing, and reading, and dancing. Not necessarily in that order. One of the most interesting things about me (for which I get teased mercilessly) is that I'll dance just about anywhere. Music in the air in the grocery store? I'm dancing. Take a particularly yummy bite of crème brulee? I'm boogying in the middle of a fancy restaurant.
           
What genre(s) do you write in and why?
I write in urban fantasy, romance and new adult. These are the kinds of stories that I read. They make me happy.

Tell us about your latest release
House of the Rising Son is the story of Cheyenne, an incubus rocker who is struggling to lead the life he desires, and not the life his family wants him to lead. Along his journey he meets Alexander, a human who is faced with similar issues.

Do you need a special setting to write in or do you have a ceremony to get you in the mood? What does it look like?
I can write almost anywhere so there isn’t really a routine. At home I often write at the kitchen table, or at a TV tray in the living room. I do have an office with a nice desk but I have to train myself to work there. My favorite place away from home is in the food court of one of the local casinos. Lots of people to watch and listen to, coffee to drink, and unlimited snacks.    
           
Describe your feelings when you learnt that your first book was accepted for publication
A combination of elation and fear. It's exciting to know that someone else finds your characters and story interesting. But I'd heard horror stories of massive rewrites and edits. So any email from my editor sent an electric shock down my spine, until I could read and process it.
           
Has the release of your first book changed anything in your personal life? If so, what?
I thought I was busy before but that was doing all the fun stuff—playing with words and getting to know my people. Now there is so much marketing that has to be done, things I need to learn how to do. It’s difficult to find time to write. But at least my family doesn’t roll their eyes and assume I'm just goofing off now.

Where do you find inspiration?
Often I'll listen to music and an image will form, sometimes a whole scene will just be there. I love unusual buildings and often there is an immediate story that comes to mind. But it really can come from anywhere, such as a snippet of conversation, or something new and interesting that happens. For example, one evening I watched a couple walking in the casino where I was writing. They were walking with their arms locked. She slumped to her knees and he kept walking with her on her knees. Eventually she was able to get back to her feet but he never slowed down. Now there's a story.

Who is your favourite character and why?
Cheyenne, because he was the first. Everyone else exists because of him.

A favourite line from one of your books.
I have two that are favorites. “F--- being an Incubus, I’m a rock star.” I knew I wanted that to be a line in House of the Rising Son even before I wrote the first word. But I also crack myself up every time I see the line “We didn’t raise you to be gay, son.” It is just so over the top funny…but then Thomas, Alexander's father, was an over the top character. He and Dottie (one of Alexander's sisters) were fun to write.

Your favourite drink and food when writing.
Coffee, tea, or diet coke. It depends on the time of day and sometimes the weather. As for food I'd have to say easy to fix, easy to eat. Nothing like a messy keyboard.

The nosy ones

How much of the real “you” is in your stories?
I’m not sure the real me is in any of the stories. Maybe the person I would like to be shows up from time to time.
           
Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? Who was it?
Absolutely. My favorites are Tony Foster from Tanya Huff's Smoke Series, and Aaron and Darvish from The Fire’s Stone, also by Huff. I loved Zillah in Poppy Z. Brite’s Lost Souls. Talk about a hot, vampire (*cough*serial killer*cough*) you can't help but love?

What’s the silliest error in a book you’ve submitted?
Right before I submitted the manuscript I realized that many of my characters had names that started with a K or hard C., so I changed Karl’s name to Logan. As I talked to my editor about the book I kept referring to Karl. It was very confusing back and forth for awhile.

Who is your least favourite of the characters you’ve written? Why?
That is a difficult question. I love them all. They're all living very full lives off the page and will appear again later. I suppose if I had to pick one it would be Logan because he's kind of a jerk.

The steamiest scene from your books.
There are a few that are quite steamy. My favorite is the first time Chey and Zander admit their feelings for each other. Zander has been hurt and Cheyenne is tending his wound. Things that both have wanted finally happen.

Favourite comfort food?
Potato chips are key. I can't imagine life without their salty goodness. And dip. It's amazing how much better a few chips and bacon horseradish dip can make me feel.

A person you admire:
If you could ask any person in the world one question of your choice, who would it be and what would you ask them?
My newest guilty pleasure is WWE wrestling. I would ask my latest crush, Roman Reigns, to stop letting people kick him in his beautiful face. I mean, seriously? Every time his mouth bleeds my heart whimpers a little.
           


The fast ones

Favourite colour?
Red

Favourite pet?
Furry ones
           
Dog or cat?
I love both but only have dogs as I am extremely allergic to cats.

Coffee or tea?
Coffee but I need lots of cream and sugar in my coffee so am trying to cut back and drink more herbal tea.

Quickie or candles?
Depending on my mood it can be one or the other. Or both. Consecutively, of course.

Hunky or chunky?
I went through a phase where mostly I liked small…short, slender with a swimmer's build. Like Chey. Then I started being attracted to big…tall, muscular. Like Zander. Now both sorts get my attention. In general, I'm drawn to a particular body type—muscles that work rather than muscles from working out in a gym. I don’t find super “cut” bodies very attractive. I’d like a little more flesh on them.

Suit & tie or jeans & boots?
Definitely jeans and boots. And if possible, chains.

Walk in the park or chat over cocktails?
A chat over cocktails.



Promotional info
Trevann Rogers writes urban fantasy and LGBT paranormal romances. Her stories incorporate an unquenchable addition to music and her love for vampires, Weres, incubi and rock stars. Like these elusive creatures, Trevann learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After Midnight.

Author website / blog:


Living After Midnight, Book 1

Sex. Rebellion. Rock and Roll.
Cheyenne is a half-human incubus whose star is on the rise in the Unakite City rock scene. His father, the leader of the supernatural races, would prefer he keep a “low profile”, but screw that. Cheyenne has as much music in his veins as royal incubi blood.

Alexander's future is all set—finish law school, join the family firm, and marry someone who'd be good for business. Not that he has a say in any of it. He's barely met the woman his father expects him to marry.

As Cheyenne's musical career takes off, his carefully constructed life begins to unravel, exacerbated by an ex-lover who can't let go, a crotchety barkeeper with a dirty mind and a pure heart, a drag queen who moonlights as a nanny, and Alexander—who's not sure if he's falling for the incubus or the rocker.

Cheyenne denies who he is, while Alexander hides what he wants. Together, they learn that getting what they truly want means being who they truly are.

Warning: Contains hot were-tiger sex, a Thanksgiving celebration that makes the Inquisition look like a tea party, and an incubus who'll rock your world.

Buy link:        




Friday 22 January 2016

Guest Interview with Author @patyjag #FlavoursofSage #Romance

The business ones
Please give us a short introduction about yourself;
I’m Paty Jager. I live and write in rural eastern Oregon. My tag line is: Steamy Romance and Cozy Mysteries starring cowboys and Indians.  My husband and I semi-retired to eastern Oregon from central Oregon two years ago and are enjoying the life. I not only write the western lifestyle, I live it.
What genre(s) do you write in and why?
I have written historical western romance, historical paranormal romance (Native American), contemporary romance, action adventure/romantic suspense, and mystery. Currently I am only writing historical western romance and mystery.
When I first started writing, if an idea came to me and I was excited about it, I’d write it. All that genre hopping wasn’t a good thing for a writer starting out. I’ve decide to concentrate on historical western romance because I have the most books in that genre and mystery because it has always been my favorite genre to read and write.
Tell us about your latest release
My latest release, Davis, is the first book of my new historical western romance series, Letters of Fate. These books are linked in the series by the fact the hero receives a letter that changes his life and takes him to the woman meant for him. In Davis, Davis Weston is a merchant in Minnesota. He’s lost his wife and son in a boating accident a year earlier and is tired of his friends, colleagues, and customers whispering he should have done more. He receives a letter from his sister asking him to marry her friend who has been widowed for two years. She needs help saving the ranch and his sister believes they would make a good marriage of convenience. 
Do you need a special setting to write in or do you have a ceremony to get you in the mood? What does it look like?
Having raised four children, I learned to write through whatever is going on if I wanted to write. Early in our marriage my hubby realized if I’m not writing I’m not happy. Whenever I’d go for a period awhile without writing, he’d say, “You’re getting grumpy. Go write.” I do like to listen to Native American music when I write NA books and while I wrote the action adventure books, one set in Guatemala and one in Mexico City I listened to Mayan and Aztec music.  
Describe your feelings when you learnt that your first book was accepted for publication.
I joined RWA (Romance Writers of America) in 1998 and my first book wasn’t published until 2006. It was with a small press, but I was ecstatic that all those years of honing my craft and working one story had paid off.
Where do you find inspiration?
Inspiration for stories comes from researching the history of the west, something I hear or see. Just about anything can inspire a story for me. It’s cooking the idea down and seeing if it will be strong enough to carry a full novel before I decide if it will be written or not.
Who is your favourite character and why?
I don’t play favourite’s with my characters. ;) I have some I am more proud of. Shandra Higheagle from my mysteries. I like how she is half Nez Perce Indian, discovering her heritage, and yet is very independent and knows what she wants out of life. Also, Isabella Mumphrey, a brilliant anthropologist who is a mixture of MacGyver and Indiana Jones.
Your favourite drink and food when writing
I like to honey lemon ginseng green tea while I’m writing and nibble on Dove dark chocolate.

The nosy ones
How much of the real “you” is in your stories?
I think the independence in my heroines and the need to find justice.
Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? Who was it?
As a teenager I had pictures of Davey Jones (Hey, Hey We’re the Monkeys), Shaun Cassidy (David Partridge of the Partridge Family), and Kurt Russell (whatever character he played) hanging on my bedroom walls. Still like Kurt. ;)
Who is your least favourite of the characters you’ve written? Why?
Wow! Are there writers who don’t like their characters? I like all my characters whether they are main characters or secondary ones. They are in the stories for specific reasons. Some may not be nice people but they are plot devices and necessary for the story.
The steamiest scene from your books
I don’t know if I can pick the steamiest one. Most of my romance books with the exception of four have steamy scenes. This is from Davis, my current release.
“Come in and shut the door,” she said, not a hint of embarrassment as she stood before him in nothing more than her drawers, corset and chemise. The dress she’d worn draped over the end of the bed.
He shut the door, tossed his hat onto the trunk at the end of the bed, and walked over to Mariella. Running his hands through her curls, he peered into her eyes. “You are beautiful,” he said, feeling her silky tresses slide through his fingers. “I didn’t realize your hair was so long. You always have it braided.” He liked how it fell over her shoulder and curled down around her ample breasts.
The corset she wore wasn’t long like the one Sarah wore. This one stopped at Mariella’s waist. The garments sole purpose was to cradle her bosoms. Hold them up. In her underclothes, that made a fetching sight.
He swallowed and drew his gaze back to her face. “Would you like me to help you out of that corset?” The contraption had hooks on the front and she could easily get herself in and out of it, but his hands itched to help.
She nodded, her gaze locked on his hands as he reached out, slipping his fingers down between the sturdy garment and the soft cotton of her chemise. His fingers pressed into her soft mounds and his heart raced. Slowly, one by one, he unhooked the corset, setting her bosoms free of their constraints.
He tossed the corset to the trunk and looked his fill of Mariella with her hair down, in her underclothes. She was a sight, with the thin white chemise with a touch of lace around the top held out by her nipples peaking under the cloth.
His body jerked to life at the sight.
“Do you want me to put my night gown on?” Mariella’s husky voice whispered.
Davis shook his head. “Get in bed. I’ll be there in a moment.”
She studied him a moment, then walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back. Instead of crawling under the blankets, she lay down on the top on her side, her head propped on one arm and her legs bent slightly, her hips curving into the air. “Do you mind if I watch?” she asked.
“No.” His hands fumbled with the buttons on his vest. Sarah had always insisted they undress in the dark. Having Mariella boldly watch his disrobing had his body buzzing with heat and need.
He tossed his vest, shirt, and undershirt on top of her corset. Sitting on the trunk next to the pile of clothes, he pulled off his boots and then stood, to unbutton his pants. He slid the trousers down and off his feet and stood with his back to the bed in his underdrawers.
“You can take those off too,” Mariella whispered from the bed.
His shaft was already tenting his undergarment. She would see his desire whether he had the garment on or not. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid the cotton drawers down and kicked them off his feet.
He walked over to the side of the bed where Mariella lay. Her gaze followed his bouncing appendage. When he stopped at the side of the bed, she reached out, touching him.
“My! I wasn’t expecting this,” she said.
Her touch after such a long time without a woman, made his body jump and his mind go blank for a second.
He grasped her arms, drawing her to sit on the side of the bed. Sliding his hands under her chemise, he ran his hands up her sides. She raised her arms, and he slipped the garment over her head. He tossed it to the side and cupped her bosoms in his hands. They overflowed his palms and the weight made him wonder how she could walk with such a straight back.
“Hugh said those were my best quality,” she whispered.
Davis shook his head. “They are magnificent, but your best qualities are your heart and your mind.”
Her eyes lit up. He could tell she was pleased with his answer.
“You going to just hold them all night or are you going to show me your talents?”
He smiled and leaned down, flicking first one nipple and then the other with his tongue. She placed her arms behind her on the bed, thrusting her offering higher for him to reach.
He reciprocated in kind by sucking, teasing, and nipping her nipples until she had the bed creaking and cracking from her gyrations.
“Please, fill me,” she pleaded.
He grabbed the waistband of her underdrawers, peeling them down her legs and off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he didn’t wait for another invitation.
Davis plunged into her hot, wetness and barely had time to savor the exquisite tightness and fit before his seed released in an explosion. He couldn’t believe all it took was one thrust.
“Don’t stop,” Mariella growled and grabbed his backside, thrusting him in and out.
He fell into the rhythm she set and found his shaft growing once again.

The fast ones
Favourite colour? Purple
Favourite pet? Junebug, the horse I had when I was a teenager.
Dog or cat? Dog
Coffee or tea? tea
Quickie or candles? candles
Hunky or chunky? Hunky – though my hunky has become chunky. ;)
Suit & tie or jeans & boots? Jeans & boots
Walk in the park or chat over cocktails? Walk in the park

Promotional info
Award-winning author Paty Jager and her husband raise alfalfa hay in rural eastern Oregon. On her road to publication she wrote freelance articles for two local newspapers and enjoyed her job with the County Extension service as a 4-H Program Assistant. Raising hay and cattle, riding horses, and battling rattlesnakes, she not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it.

Davis: Letters of Fate
Widowed with two small children and a ranch to run, Mariella Swanson knows she needs help, but isn’t sure her heart, or neighbors, will accept her marrying a stranger. When the greenhorn shows up, smoking a pipe and wearing a derby hat, she can’t help but wonder if agreeing to this marriage may prove to be her biggest mistake.
When Davis Weston receives a letter from his sister asking him to marry a friend, he scoffs at the idea. However, losing his wife and son has left him a lonely man, and the whispers from others that he didn’t do enough to save his family has gone on long enough. His arrival in Oregon may be worse—these neighbors are doing more than whispering. Guns and horses aren’t his forte. He’s willing to learn, but is he willing to love again?
Historical western filled with steamy romance and the rawness of a growing country.
Any other links you want included:
Paty’s Posse: http://eepurl.com/1CFgX


 

Monday 18 January 2016

Book Showcase: His Third Wife by @AdamMannAuthor #FlavoursofSage

Over 150 years ago, in fact in 1862, Mary Elizabeth Braddon published a book called Lady Audley’s Secret which went on the become a best seller at that time, and over the years the book has been serialized and films have been made based on this book.  The literary fashion in those days was accidental bigamy, and in the book the heroine deserts her child, pushes husband number one down a well, thinks about poisoning husband number two, and then sets fire to a hotel in which all her male acquaintances are residing.
In Adam’s novella a man whose middle name is by coincidence Audley is happily married with three daughters, and in his work as a travelling salesman he stays in various small guest houses.  Over several years he is “seduced” by daughters in each house, and when each becomes pregnant he “marries” each of them.  The “scandal” does not become public until he loses his job, sues for unfair dismissal, and after being awarded substantial damages receives huge media publicity.


Excerpt:

These Guest Houses never served dinner, so he walked along the road to a pub which served meals, and found Alicia’s other guests already there.  They asked Roger to join them, and they all laughed and chatted together.
“Alicia was kind in giving us her room,” said one, “so it just worked out.”
“She told us that she’s going to stay with a friend tonight,” said another, “but will be back for our breakfast in the morning,”
Roger was not really listening to this but he remembered later.
He walked back the house he was staying in, and opened the door.  Alicia was in the kitchen and offered to make him a cup of tea.
Roger sat down to enjoy the tea before going to his room.
“Good night,” he said as he stood and climbed the stairs to his room.
He dressed in his pyjamas, switched off the light and got into bed.  It was soft and warm and cozy, and for some reason smelled of Alicia.
About one hour later Alicia opened the door to his room and crept in to his bed.  She climbed in next to the sleeping Roger.  She wasn’t wearing too much, just a very short diaphanous nightie, and nothing else.
In his sleep Roger sensed her presence and he moved to put his arm around her, so she wriggled her body under him.
He woke up suddenly.
“Alicia!” he was startled.
“Hold me tight, I’m cold,” she complained quietly.

Friday 15 January 2016

Book Showcase: Unabashed (Overwatch#2) by @SashaWhite #EroticRomance #FlavoursofSage

The follow up to the bestselling novella UNFETTERED is here.

She’s finally found a man who sees her for the woman she is, and she’s not holding back.
Mechanic Veronica “Ronnie” Mack joined the Overwatch club because she’d given up on finding love, and decided to settle for sexual satisfaction. Then Ian, her childhood crush, walked back into her life as one of the club’s Trainers, and proved that their connection was as strong as ever.

Computer guru Ian Johnson’s work kept him busy, with little time for a social life, which is just the way he liked it. Then Ronnie Mack strode into the club, and straight back into his heart. He couldn’t deny the need to make her his own, and now he’s learning that training a sub he’s in love with is a whole new adventure.




Excerpt:

When they got to her place, she wasn’t sure exactly what would happen. She’d expected them to do a scene at the club right after their negotiations, but instead Ian had pointed her toward the door and they’d left. She was about to ask why they were leaving when she remembered she’d given him all control whenever they were together, and bit her tongue. It was going to take some getting used to, but not knowing what was going to happen gave her a little thrill.
Okay, a big thrill.
She’d also enjoyed the way he’d guided her to his car, and opened the door for her, handing her into the seat and making sure she buckled up before he closed it. It should’ve felt overbearing, or like he was treating her like a child, but it didn’t. Instead, it made her all warm and soft inside.
Now, as they entered her apartment, she stopped, standing still in the middle of her living room, anticipation making her belly quiver. Ian closed the door, and, after a quick look around the small space, he said simply, “Show me your bedroom.”
She led him down the short hall, the heat of his gaze on the back of her legs making her add a little extra swing to her hips as she went.
“This will do,” he said when he stopped near the end of her double bed. “Take your clothes off and present yourself for me.”
Once she got her boots off, Ronnie made quick work of getting rid of the rest of her clothes. When she was completely naked, she moved in front of Ian and stood straight and tall.
“Hands behind your head, and legs spread,” he directed softly. “I want to be able to see and touch all that you’re offering me.”
As he moved forward, walking slowly around her body, telling her how every Dom had their own preferences as far as protocols went, something new happened. Her mind slowed, and she stopped thinking about what would come next or if he liked her small breasts, and she let herself sink into the energy he was putting out there.
 “You’re going to start learning my preferences now, and I’m going to learn a few of your body’s secrets. When I ask you to come to me, standing straight like that is fine. But when I say present yourself, I want you open so I can do this.” He stroked fingertips down her side, and she sucked in a breath, goose bumps rising on her skin instantly. “Ticklish?”
“A little.”
His hand moved down across her stomach and between her legs. “Or this,” he said as his fingers brushed lightly over the curls covering her sex.
A shiver ripped through her, and he smiled. “You’re very responsive.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
His smile grew, and her insides heated some more. “Let’s see what else you like, shall we?”
He ran his hands over her body, stroking her here, kissing her there, pinching her everywhere, sometimes soft, sometimes hard. It didn’t take him long to discover that she enjoyed having her breasts slapped, but not her ass.
“Ouch!” she’d cried out, dropping her arms and swinging around to stare at him the first time he’d smacked her hard. When she realized what she’d done, she lifted her shoulders and smiled pretty, trying to be cute. “Oops?”
His lips twitched. She saw! Then he took her wrists and placed them back on her head, bent her forward at the waist, and smacked her ass three times hard and fast until it burned. She bit her lip and moaned but didn’t move again. She liked the other touches way better.
Ian smoothed his hand over her fiery cheeks then under to finger her dripping pussy. “Seems your body likes a little bit of pain, doesn’t it, my girl? Or is it the punishment factor you like?”
When she didn’t answer right away, he pulled his fingers out and smacked her again.
“I don’t know!” she said quickly. “I like some roughness, but I’ve never really been a fan of pain. Which is how that feels.”
“And this? How does this feel?” he asked, pinching her right nipple between thumb and forefinger slowly. She moaned, arching her back but trying to not to lean toward him. “Good.”
“Only good?” He let go of her wrists and got a hold of her other nipple.
“Amazing, Sir.”
“Tell me.”
Ronnie struggled to form words to describe what she was feeling. “It’s like my nipples are the posts on a battery and you’re jump-starting my engine. Everything in me is focused right there, and when you squeeze, it all shoots to my–” He squeezed her nipples a little harder, and she went up on her tiptoes, words tumbling from her lips. “To my pussy! To my cunt! Lightning bolts from nipple to cunt.”
Fire lit his eyes up, and he leaned down, slamming his mouth over top of hers. All of a sudden, the gentle teacher was gone, and a master was kissing her. His tongue thrust between her parted lips, taking, tasting, owning her as he sucked away all of her breath. Her knees melted along with her insides, and she let all of her weight go as his arms wrapped around her.
She whimpered, wanting to writhe against him as the pressure built between her thighs. His erection pressed against her belly, but she wanted to feel it lower. She wanted to feel it hot and hard and naked, probing at her entrance.
He pulled back, chuckling evilly as he began to unbutton his shirt. “Hands on the bed, ass to me.”

“Yes, Sir!” she snapped out sassily, moving with an eagerness that should’ve been embarrassing, but wasn’t.