Tag Archives: bdsm

threaten to slip past her Domme defenses ‘Don’t Let Go’ #BDSM #ContemporaryRomance @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

Don’t Let Go

Darkest Desires #1

Publisher: Changeling Press
Keywords:  BDSM, Silver Fox, MayDecember, EroticRomance, FemDom, Domme, Contemporary, Novella, Series


Troy Jenner’s ex called his desire to be dominated sick. Divorced, shamed, and stripped bare of his assets, Troy is gifted a three day pass to Monique’s, Baltimore’s elite sex club. He hopes to discover the depths of his desires, not fall for the Domme with a turbulent past in her eyes.
Barista by day, Mistress by night, Jaycie Atkins is the Domme assigned to fulfill submissive’s fantasies of pain with pleasure. To conquer her childhood trauma, she learned to be powerful and prudent. Always giving, never receiving. Always in control — until Troy’s grateful groans after every whip of her flogger threaten to slip past her Domme defenses. The warmth in his eyes tempting her to trust him like no other.
Will Troy’s patience and persistence in breaking down her walls pay off, or will he be forced to accept the fact Mistress will never let go and give him the collar and second chance at love he longs for?
PURCHASE LINKS: 
EXCERPT:
I knelt in the middle of the dungeon-like room as I’d seen on the countless BDSM websites I’d been studying the past month, exactly like they’d shown us new subs at the introduction class the evening before. Butt naked, dick already at half-mast because I finally had the chance to explore the darkness inside of me that had killed my ten-year marriage.
As CEO of a prominent software company, I took pride in my self-control and stoic nature. Being a bastard had gotten me up the rung to where I sat comfortably behind a glass desk with windows overlooking Baltimore’s skyline. It had also earned me a nasty divorce a year earlier when my ex-wife took over half of what we owned, leaving me with a broken heart and near-empty bank accounts. At least a constant work load since then had gotten me closer to where I’d been before she’d attempted to wipe me out.
I studied my hands resting on my bare thighs. Springy hair tickled my palms. While the hair on my body remained a dark blond, the previous two years of hell had shot gray through the thick strands on my head and the scruff I couldn’t keep from lining my jaw.
Forty-three and already fucking gray. Wouldn’t help my chance at dating — if I ever got the balls to put myself out there again. I’d been celibate for over a year. Dead inside, unable to give two shits about anything but work, unable to get it up, too. I also didn’t have the energy to get involved, let alone think of dating.
Familiar exhaustion tugged on my eyelids, and I let them close while waiting for the Domme the club’s owner had booked me with for the night — Mistress Jaycie. A woman I’d never met, a woman I was going to let control me in whatever way she wanted.
Time to give over. Time to explore my lust for pain and hopefully float into that mysterious subspace I’d been reading about.
My dick twitched at the thought of pure, empty-headed euphoria.
Would the Domme I’d been paired with have a heavy hand? Would she be beautiful? Did I even care? I just wanted — craved — submission, the type that would erase the shit in my mind for a while and maybe get my rocks off.
My ex had been vanilla, same as I’d always been, and when I got the urge to introduce something new in the bedroom, she’d looked at me with disgust. Hell, I’d only suggested handcuffs and ropes, hoping she’d agree so we could eventually move on to what I really wanted.
No such fucking luck.
I breathed deep and exhaled my thoughts along with the lungful of used-up air. The silence coating the dim, private scening room at Monique’s club in downtown Baltimore soothed me. Even if it turned out the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t for me, I’d at least have gotten to experience a semi-hard dick again.
A click sounded as the door opened, and I kept my head and gaze lowered as I’d been instructed in the class. Awareness crept over my skin like an electrical charge as heels clicked on hardwood. My heartbeat accelerated. The subtle scent of oranges hit my nose as black leather stiletto boots came into my line of sight.
Hot as fuck. I bit back my groan as my cock thickened. I swallowed against sudden nervousness, something I hadn’t experienced since my teenage years.
“Hmm…” she murmured. The boots rounded to my left, disappearing in my periphery. “On your feet, slave.” Her low, husky voice prickled my skin, bringing my dick to full attention.
I rose with as much grace as I could, hands at my sides, erection sticking up close to my navel.
A soft inhale tickled my ears as I straightened completely.
I knew what she saw — what she probably didn’t expect for a man teetering on the brink of the downslope from his prime. Daily yoga, running, and weight training kept my body looking the same as it had at twenty-five.
Something tailed down my backbone and across the top of my ass cheeks, lacking the warmth of skin. Crop? Cane? The urge to know made me want to shift my stance, but I held still.
She rounded to the right and stopped in front of me.
From my height, most of her body came into view even though I kept my head lowered. The black leather of her boots hugged defined calves, stopping just above her knees. A good twelve inches of smooth, pale skin gave way to a tight leather skirt — also black — over flared hips, ending at her tiny waist. She held a crop in her right hand.
My dick actually jumped, bumping my abs.
I glanced up through my lashes, filling my eyes with the corset-cinched tits threatening to spill over the top. The milky-white globes set my mouth to watering.
“You will call me Mistress.”
© Lynn Burke 2018

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

They ooze power, control, natural dominance ‘Jake’ #BDSM #EroticRomance @SuzyShearer @evernightpub

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to Suzy Shearer and her story Jake!

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Renaissance woman, best-selling and Award winning author Suzy Shearer writes contemporary and paranormal erotic romances filled with mature and interesting characters. Her books always feature older heroes and heroines; ranging from mid 40s to 60s. The heroines are usually confident plus-sized women who are proud of their curves. Suzy feels it’s important for readers to connect.

Suzy also wants her readers to understand just because people are older doesn’t mean they aren’t intriguing, desirable, open to challenges and willing to experiment. They may be older but not always wiser. Remember sexy isn’t just for the under 30s.

A Buddhist and artist, Suzy lives in the Western Suburbs of Sydney Australia with one very spoilt dog and two equally spoilt cats keeping her company. When Suzy is not writing, she is usually painting – an accomplished watercolour Artist her subjects range from portraits and animals to nudes and landscapes. She is also a quilter, toy maker, sculptor and potter. Suzy’s Art

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Website ## Blog ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Pinterest ## Goodreads ## eMail ## Instagram ## LinkedIn

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They ooze power, control, natural dominance – and sex. They are The Silk Rope Masters.

None have ever found love but watch out! When they fall, they’ll fall fast and hard!

Jake Nichols, 53, was so tall that Emily Miller, 49, had to crane her neck to look into his face. Muscular – he could pick her up in one hand and yet he held her as if she were a fragile bird.

And that’s exactly what she was, a beautiful plus-sized woman with a pain so deep she’s buried her emotions rather than face the tragedy that happened just a few months ago.

Jake was assigned to care for her by Master Ash, the head of Silk Rope and what Jake didn’t expect was to fall in love.

But she was only in his safekeeping until she could fly on her own then he would have to release her.

Be Warned: BDSM, anal sex, sex toys, voyeurism, flogging, public exhibition ## This is an erotic romance. There are explicit sexual descriptions and explicit language used throughout. It will offend some readers.

~ * ~ ADULT EXCERPT ~ * ~

Opening her eyes, she took in the scene in front of her. A tall, shapely woman, a Domme. Her sub, naked, his wrists bound to hooks on the wall, was standing with his legs well apart, ankles fastened by a spreader bar. The Domme plied a flogger across his chest and then his thighs. As Emily watched, a flick across his testicles. He grunted. Another flick, this time the Domme wielded it upward and over his legs, catching his penis as well. His mouth opened in a silent scream as she landed a second on his cock.

Emily idly wondered what it must be like for a man to have his dick flogged, his balls whipped? Even from this distance Emily could see sweat on his face, the sheen of it glistening across his chest, as his Domme switched to a crop. A few gentle “love pats” on his nipples then thwack!

Between his legs again and this time his scream rang around the area, but Emily noticed, if it was possible, his erection seemed even harder. A few more hits, then the Domme took his face between her thumb and fingers, and she kissed him. A savage kiss that had him begging for another when she stepped away. Instead of a kiss, she grasped his cock, twisting it, pulling at it until he pleaded for release. She shook her head.

“You were a very bad boy, Brian.”

“Please, Mistress. Please.”

“No.”

His plaintive begging echoed as she hit him with the crop again, and he sagged against his restraints, disappointment radiating from him. She stepped next to him, her lips close to his ears. Emily strained to hear her words, leaning forward to catch them.

“You’ve taken your punishment like a good boy. I shall let you fuck me, but I haven’t decided yet if I shall permit you to come.”

Emily saw how the words affected him. His smile lit up his whole face as she undid the restraints. He fell to his knees, and taking her hands, he kissed them.

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you.”

The Domme made him stand. Emily could see he was wobbly on his feet, his erection still hard and strong. The Domme didn’t give him a moment to recover, and instead she led him away after making him carry her bag of tricks.

© Suzy Shearer 2018

~ * ~ BUY ~ * ~

Evernight Publishing ## Amazon ## Barnes & Noble

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Suzy Shearer, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey

a pawn in a dangerous game ‘Gabe’s Revenge’ #DarkBDSM #Romance @mamaD8 @evernightpub

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to Doris O’Connor and her story Gabe’s Revenge!

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Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

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Website ## Amazon Author Page ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Pinterest ## Instagram ## Evernight Publishing ## BookStrand ## Barnes & Noble

~ * ~ ABOUT THE BOOK ~ * ~

Thanks so much for having me on your blog with my new release, Gabe’s Revenge. This is book two in my series McLeod Security and a lot darker and longer than the first book. You’ll meet some familiar characters from book one in the series, but don’t worry. There are no spoilers, so the series can be read out of order. 🙂

Gabe and Lissa took me on quite the journey when I was writing their story, so hold on tight, as they find their way to their Happy Ever After.

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Revenge is best served cold…

Gabriel Henshaw is nothing but a monster—a ruthless killer—that’s what Lissa Andrini has always been told. Sold to the man by her own father, she fears for her life, yet she can’t help the insane pull she feels to him. It has to be some form of Stockholm syndrome, surely? It couldn’t possibly be the effect of his Dominant nature effortlessly pulling her under his spell and awakening her latent submissive side.

Beating Andrini to a bloody pulp soothes Gabe’s rage temporarily, but that leaves his daughter. Were it not for a promise to her mother, he’d refuse this payment, not least because Lissa Andrini awakens all of his protective and carnal instincts. The perfect counterfoil for his darker needs and desires, she has the power to bring him to his knees.

Can love flourish when you’re a pawn in a dangerous game?

Be Warned: BDSM, spanking, anal sex, Daddy Dom/little girl play

~ * ~ EXCERPT ~ * ~

“Fuck you, Sir.”

The snarky intonation she put on that title, while she yanked her chin up and did her best to stare him down, should have made him do good on his promise to put her over his knee. However, the slight wobble in her bottom lip, coupled with the way every delectable curve of her body was pressed into his frame, meant any such action would be a very bad idea indeed. He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of her, and he didn’t want her first time to be angry sex. She deserved better than that.

“Oh, fuck, we will, my dear, but not now and not here.”

Her eyes grew wide, her already fast breaths sped up even more, and Gabe swallowed a groan. He let go of her and stepped back for some much-needed breathing space. As it was his cock was trying his hardest to break out the confines of the denim surrounding it. Gabe couldn’t even remember the last time he wanted a woman this damn much.

“So, you’re going to add rape to your rap sheet. Murdering innocent women wasn’t enough for you?”

A gasp from behind them alerted Gabe to Mavis’s presence, and sure enough when he turned his head it was to see her standing there. Hands pushed into the pockets of her ever-present apron her lips were pressed into a fine line, signaling her disapproval.

“Parkinson is here, Gabe,” she said.

“Thank you, Mavis, I’ll be there in a minute.”

She nodded, glanced at Lissandra and shook her head.

“Tell her the truth, Gabe, all of it. Or this will never work.”

With that, she turned and left them alone on the terrace.

“Oh my God, she knows, doesn’t she? I thought she was nice and I could trust her. Oh, I’m such a fool.”

Lissandra tried to get past him, but he stepped in her way.

“Lissa, don’t.” She pushed against his chest in a vain effort to make him move and then glared up at him.

“Don’t you dare call me that. Only Mama ever called me that. Don’t you fucking dare…” She slammed her hand over her mouth and shook her head. Misery and despair rolled off of her in waves, and Gabe had to fight the urge to take her in his arms. She wouldn’t welcome that move right now, if ever, and now was not the time.

Instead he crossed his arms over his chest, widened his stance, and simply looked at her.

“I’ll call you anything I damn well, please, little girl, and you will lose the attitude. I told you last night, you’re mine now, so you better get used to it. As for Mavis, she is the most loyal person I ever met. Without her, I doubt I would have survived my childhood, so you be nice to her, do you hear me?”

“Or what? You’ll kill me, too?” The mumbled reply grated, and he took several deep breaths to calm himself.

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be six feet under already, girl. After the hit on your father went wrong, I’ve never trusted anyone else to do the killing for me ever again.” He waited for that to sink in, and sure enough her head came up, and she stared wide-eyed, confusion evident on her face.

“I thought… it wasn’t…”

“No, little girl. I’m not such a bastard that I would rob a child of its mother, especially when that mother’s only crime was falling in love and staying with that fucker, Andrini. Besides, I prefer to kill with my hands. Much more satisfying.” He uncrossed his arms and wrapped his hands around her slender throat. Her heartbeat jumped under his palms, and he squeezed just once before he released her. “To feel the life draining out a piece of scum that crossed me … that’s sweet.”

“You’re a monster.” Her whispered reply made him grin.

“Yes, I suppose I am. You better get used to it, little girl, and don’t get any silly ideas of crossing me. You behave and do as you’re told, and we’ll get along just fine.”

She swallowed hard, but gave the tiniest nod, and that would have to do for now.

“Good girl, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“So, you’ll kill me if I don’t behave?” She mimed quotation marks around that one word and nudged her chin up in a move of defiance that simply served to make him harder. It would be fun to tame all that passion, indeed, and knowing that he would be the first man ever to touch her, to teach her … fuck, what a turn-on that was. Gabe had never cared much about being the first. He wasn’t possessive over the women he fucked. That would mean he cared about them to be anything more than a convenient set of holes to sink his dick into, but this was Lissandra Andrini. His revenge and he was fast beginning to realize his destiny, too. Whether she’d also prove to be his downfall remained to be seen.

“Killing is too easy an out. That’s the only reason Andrini still lives. I want him to suffer, to wallow in his own filth. Death is too good for the likes of him. As for you…” He paused and smiled. “I’ve already told you what I’ll do to you. And once that ass of yours is red raw I will fuck it, so, maybe I’ll kill you after all with the petit mort, at least.”

Her sharp intake of breath almost sounded like a moan, and acting on instinct, he stepped closer, and shoved his hand under her robe to cup her mound. Wet heat greeted his palm, and he smirked, while a blush suffused her pale skin.

“What are you? You can’t … oh…” She tried to clamp her legs together, but one shake of his head stopped her. He forced himself to remove his hand, looked at the glistening evidence of her arousal on his palm and held it up for her to see.

“Protest all you want, Lissa. Hate me if you must, but your body doesn’t lie.” He licked the wetness off his hands and immediately regretted that, as her feminine musk hit his nostrils. Damn, she smelled good.

“I do, I hate you.” Her denial was too breathy to be truly effective, and Gabe laughed.

“No problem, my sweet. You don’t have to like me to enjoy fucking me. Now, go and get dressed, and meet me in the living room in ten minutes. Don’t make me wait, or so help me I drag you out there like this or maybe naked.” He grinned at her simmering outrage. “I’m sure my men would enjoy the view.”

“You wouldn’t dare?”

Gabe threw his head back and laughed.

“Oh, my sweet, never dare the monster.”

~ * ~ BUY ~ * ~

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Doris O’Connor, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey

must come together or become ashes ‘Capital Offense’ #Gay #BDSM @booksbygray @TheOriginalGray @evernightpub

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to J.R. Gray and his story Capital Offense!

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When not staying up all night writing, J.R. Gray can be found at the gym where it’s half as-sumed he is a permanent resident to fulfill his self-inflicted masochism. A dominant and a pilot, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. He frequently interrupts real life, in-cluding normal sleep patterns and conversations, to jot down notes or plot bunnies. Commas are the bane of his existence even though it’s been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they con-tinue to baffle and bewilder. If Gray wasn’t writing…well, that’s not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave, insanity or both. The idea of haunting has always appealed to him. J.R. Gray is genderqueer and prefers he/him pronouns

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Website ## Amazon Author Page ## Twitter – Personal ## Twitter – Books ## Facebook ## Facebook Reader Group ## Newsletter ## Goodreads (Book) ## Tumblr

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All good things must come to an end.

George is trying to hold his world together, but it’s crumbling and he doesn’t know who he’s even fighting anymore. All the people he loves are suffering because of him.

Jesse is shattering because he can’t provide what George needs.

Elliot is broken perhaps beyond repair.

Zac is ruined by his own doing and isn’t fit to be what Elliot needs him to be.

There is no soothing light at the end of this tunnel. The reckoning is coming and not even George can protect them from the monster of his past. They are splintering, trying to avoid the flames, but they must come together or become ashes.

~ * ~ EXCERPT ~ * ~

George picked up the container of sterile needles he’d been saving so Jesse could see them. “This will be a little like a tattoo.”

“Oh God. You’re so close to my dick.”

“If you hold perfectly still there is a good chance none will even come close to your cock, unless of course you want me to pierce it for you.”

Jesse picked up his head. “Can you do that?”

“Easily.”

He pursed his lips. “I’m going to think about that one.”

“Don’t think on it too long.”

“Why not?” Jesse laid his head back down and let his arms go limp.

“Because if I don’t get an answer, I’m going to assume you approve.”

Jesse’s eyes shot back open. “You know what they say about assuming?”

“That it’s a perfectly acceptable thing for a dominant to do when his submissive is gagged?”

“But I’m not gagged…”

“You easily can be.” George pulled the pink ball gag halfway out of his pocket so Jesse could see it.

“I think I’ll wait on the piercing until we both discuss the pros and cons, Sir,” Jesse said as politely as George had ever heard come out of his mouth.

“Acceptable,” George said as he pushed the first needle into the tender skin on Jesse’s inner thigh.

“Holy fuck. Getting a tattoo there would be a whole lot different than on my neck.”

“If you can make it to fifty needles there will be a reward.”

“God help me.”

“You’re going to need it.”

~ * ~ BUY ~ * ~

Evernight Publishing ## Amazon ## Amazon UK

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J.R. Gray, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey

teach all there is to love about pain? ‘Steven’ #BDSM #BBW @SuzyShearer @evernightpub

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to Suzy Shearer and her story Steven!

~ * ~ BIO ~ * ~

Author Suzy Shearer writes contemporary and paranormal erotic romances filled with mature and interesting characters. Her books always feature older heroes and heroines; ranging from mid 40s to 60s. The heroines are usually confident plus-sized women who are proud of their curves. Suzy feels it’s important for readers to connect. Her characters are older but maybe not always wiser. Suzy wants her readers to relate to her characters desires, fears and hopes. Sexy isn’t just for the under 30s.

In 2017 Suzy was nominated for the Best Established Author in the Australian Romance Today Readers’ Choice Award. She made it through all the rounds to reach the finals against some extremely talented and well-known Australian Romance Authors.

A Buddhist, Suzy is single and lives in the Western Suburbs of Sydney, Australia. When Suzy is not writing, she is usually painting – an accomplished watercolour Artist her subjects range from portraits and animals to nudes and landscapes.

~ * ~ STALK ~ * ~

Website ## suzyshearer.blogspot.com ## sooziiiart.blogspot.com ## Amazon Author Page ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Pinterest ## Goodreads ## eMail ## Instagram ## Linkedin ## Evernight Publishing ## BookStrand

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They ooze power, control, natural dominance – and sex. They are The Silk Rope Masters.

None have ever found love but watch out! When they fall, they’ll fall fast and hard!

When 52 year old Avril Thomson overheard two women talking about a BDSM club, it had her intrigued. Determined to finally explore her desire for pain during sex, she signed up for the information evening at Silk Rope.

Steven Bray, 53, is a sadist. He noticed her as soon as he entered into the room, she was hard to ignore. Beautiful, plenty of curves, but with an unapproachable demeanour. His cock had twitched when she admitted she wanted to explore pain – heavy pain.

The question is was she a sexual sadist and, if so, would she allow Steven to teach all there was to love about pain.

Be Warned: BDSM, anal sex, sex toys, voyeurism, flogging, public exhibition

This is an erotic romance. There are explicit sexual descriptions and explicit language used throughout. It will offend some readers.

~ * ~ EXCERPT ~ * ~

Avril wondered how she managed to stand. Her legs were weak and wobbly, but she was determined not to show how she really felt. She couldn’t stop shaking as she followed the two Masters from the lounge and into the foyer. Her mouth was dry, her blood rushing through her veins, and in her mind, she could still hear the moans of the women she’d seen. She’d been glad of the chance to get herself under control in the lounge but wasn’t sure she did a very good job. Still, she resolved not to let the man, Steven, see how much she was affected both by the things she’d seen—and by him. But, judging by the intense looks he’d given her a couple of times, she had the distinct impression he could see right through her pretence.

On top of it all, part of her was in total shock—she’d been excited and still felt it!

After collecting her handbag, somehow, she made it home in one piece, and then she almost threw herself into a cold shower. She needed to calm down, the things she’d seen, the way those men control the situations, the hits—the obvious pain.

Even after her shower she was still turned on. Who would have believed it? Who on earth could get excited by watching someone getting whipped? Feeling pain?

Only her.

She was a woman who’d never gotten excited until now, but more importantly, she was damn aroused! Lying in bed, she remembered every detail, the way those women had screamed, the way each hit had made her wish it was her body stretched out. The way that last woman had been taken. She’d been fucked—no other way to describe it. And she’d climaxed, screaming in pleasure when she came! Avril wished it was her. She wished she were the one stretched out, tied down, and whipped by—by Master Steven.

Fuck, this is crazy! I don’t even like the man! He scared me.

Still, she fell asleep to dream of those all-seeing gray eyes staring at her, of the way his eyebrow lifted, the tiny quirk of his lips.

© Suzy Shearer 2018

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Evernight Publishing ## Amazon

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Suzy Shearer, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey

may bring it all together or destroy everything ‘Spice & Vanilla’ #Gay #BDSM @KatherineWyvern @evernightpub

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to Katherine Wyvern and her story Spice & Vanilla!

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Katherine is a gipsy soul who lived in Italy, Norway, Germany, France and Spain but mostly in some private universe of her own. She still lives a nomad life between Dordogne and Catalonia, with a tipi as a home and her boots and a horse as only means of transport.

She’s worked as a printer, a welder and a gardener, and been writing since she can remember, mostly poetry, fantasy and erotica, sometimes mixed together in weird ways.

Nowadays, when not busy with walking, horse-whispering or dream-weaving, she is usually painting, embroidering or working her backbone off in the pastures.

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Website ## Blog ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Instagram

~ * ~ A WORD FROM KATHERINE WYVERN ~ * ~

Hello, and thank you so much for having me here today to talk about my new release, Spice & Vanilla. This is the darker, naughtier sister of my previous release, Woman as a Foreign Language, but it can be read as a complete stand alone.

The BDSM element in Spice and Vanilla came about in part because I had just finished reading Katerina Ross’ beautiful novel Tenderly Wicked, so I was in the mood for something a bit spicier than my previous release, and partly because I had this idea for Raphael, the main character, that he would be “in two minds about anything”. He’s gender-fluid, bisexual, and as it turns out, a switch (he is in fact the sort of character that can piss off absolutely every reader on earth, lol).

I always like sex scenes to carry some of the character building in my stories. I think sex is one of the most visceral things we do in life, and the way we have sex with different people and different sex with the same people at different times can say a lot about us, about our feelings for our partners and where we are in a relationship. You can put so much more than smut in a sex scene (although a good amount of smut is most welcome), and when you stray into BDSM that potential for character exploration rises tenfold, because there are so many more layers to it. Why do we feel the need, in a caring, loving relationship, for giving or receiving pain? Why do power and humiliation become a turn on, even a necessity, at certain times? And can these things add more to our relationships than just a passing kinky thrill? Can they possibly become a way to express feelings we don’t have words for? I do not pretend to have full answers to these questions, but I did enjoy searching for them in the company of such complex characters as Raphael and Hugh.

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Time was, when Di could dance all night. Time was, when she could ride any horse in the stable. Time was when she had a fiancée, a future and a home she loved. Until a silver SUV came out of nowhere and broke her life in half.

Well concealed under a sarcastic, spiny hide, Hugh has a darkly romantic, passionate soul. Torn between love and terror, he’s held the talented, elegant, magnetic Raphael carefully at arm’s length since the day they met.

Male or female, men or women, kinky or sweet, top or bottom? Angel or devil? Raphael’s life is a string of unanswered questions. And Lucie, his long-hidden female self, may bring it all together or destroy everything he has.

Be warned: cross-dressing, gender-queer, explicit M/M and M/F sex, anal sex, spanking, flogging, bondage, forced orgasm, sex toys

~ * ~ EXCERPT ~ * ~

Hugh watched him stroking away with great contentment. He was totally worn out after a crazy day at work, and it was not always easy to find the energy to satisfy such an enthusiastic masochist. There were days when he wished Raphael were a bit less fond of being spanked and whipped, but he always did his best to oblige him. The thought of his Raphael going out there looking for release from God-only-knows-whom, and getting hurt for real by some less scrupulous or talented Dom was just unbearable. Still, tonight he would lie back and relax. Mostly. I will have to help him eventually, he thought with a slightly evil grin, but I can take a breather first.

Raphael stroked in perfect tempo. He was one of the most technically exact musicians Hugh had ever played with, after all. Too exact, in fact.

It would do him so much good to let go a bit, to just go with the flow, be wild and imprecise and purely passionate. Then he would not need so much of this.

Tick—tock—tick—tock—tick—tock, went the metronome, and Raphael stroked and stroked. It was a good while before Hugh could tell, from a small furrow between those blond eyebrows, that the unchanging, slow rhythm was beginning to frustrate him. He smiled a bit wider and said nothing, devouring his beautiful quarry with his eyes. He watched, entranced the fluid play of flesh and skin as Raphael’s long pale cock, a nice ruddy purple by now, sank and reemerged into and from his fist, the velvet-like foreskin lapping beautifully over the shinier, silky glans, the testicles bouncing softly to the rhythm as the scrotum was pulled up and released. It was hard to resist the temptation to throw the whole scene to the devil and just take that cock in his mouth and suck it empty.

This is without exception the best use a metronome was ever put to.

Raphael’s body was developing a number of small, charming tics and twitches. He briefly lifted his left knee from the mattress then relaxed again. His right wrist was pulling on the strap from time to time, and his breath was coming in slightly ragged bursts.

Still it took a long time. Too much control, thought Hugh, smiling. Tsk-tsk.

Tick—tock—tick—tock.

He slowly unfolded his hands and moved to sit between Raphael’s legs. He spit on his middle finger and watched Raphael’s face, half hopeful, half anxious, as he slowly approached his anus. He didn’t hurry. He let Raphael wait for it. He would beg, in time, Hugh knew, but there was no need for that, not yet. He finally pressed his fingertip to the twitching, tight, live rose of flesh and felt it jolt and spasm. He massaged it in circles, with relish, and didn’t even try to penetrate it. Raphael was shaking all over, trying to press down on his finger, but there was just so far he could stretch, tied as he was. His belly muscles went taut. They were contracting in random, jerky convulsions. Hugh had never seen anything so beautiful.

Then Raphael missed a beat. His hand had picked up pace, ignoring all orders. Raphael whimpered, trying to compensate to get back in the right tempo. The double change of pace made him squirm all over. He swallowed twice and missed the beat again. This time Hugh slapped the inside of his thigh, very hard. Raphael could take a long regular series of well-spaced blows with relative ease, but a single hard slap coming down out of the blue like that drew a ragged cry from him.

“You do know what tempo means, I asked?” Hugh said, in a plain chatty voice. He had never had any taste whatsoever for histrionics. He was not, he had never been, a theatrical Dom. He wasn’t in it for setting up a show. He just got the job done.

“Yes. Yes!” said Raphael, a bit frantic. He managed to stick to the rhythm for a minute longer, until Hugh gently stuck his finger just within the ring of his anus. All of Raphael’s body twisted, and he lost all track of the cold, mechanical rhythm of the metronome.

And that is exactly what you need, my love. Too much playing by the rules, too much fucking control. You need to find your own tempo, and just let go.

Five or six fast hard strokes followed. Hugh slapped him twice, on his thigh, and, when he turned suddenly, on his butt. And then Raphael came, on the third slap, as he flopped flat on his back again, crying out in pleasure or pain, or both. It was hard to tell. Semen spurted out in beautiful, long, arched white streamers, splattering over Raphael’s belly, chest, and even his face.

It is difficult to aim while being spanked hard.

Hugh watched him coming, avidly.

He was so naked. So vulnerable, so unguarded. Hugh, who felt, every day, that he might shatter like glass, on Raphael’s unearthly, impossibly graceful, self-possessed beauty, lived for these moments, to watch him released of all self-consciousness and all bonds. Strange, how it took a bunch of leather straps to get him to do that.

“Ah, oh, shit. That hurt,” Raphael whispered after a minute. “Not complaining, mind,” he added, with a small edgy laugh, wiping some drops of sperm from his lips and eyebrow.

“Good,” said Hugh, quite composed, despite the erection straining in his pants. Watching Raphael twitching and jolting while covered in glistening semen was not a sight to leave him unmoved. He reached out for the metronome, stopped it and lowered the weight a tad, then started it again.

This was a faster, business-like tempo.

“There you go, hot lips,” he said to Raphael, who was still breathing hard from his orgasm.

“What? Wh—but…”

Hugh gave him a small devilish smile. Raphael was perfectly capable of coming two or three times in one night, but, like most men, he needed a while to recuperate in between. Well, tonight, he wasn’t getting it.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

You can also find an exclusive excerpt on my website, here.

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Katherine Wyvern, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey

threaten to destroy everything they hold dear ‘Her Husband’s Army Buddy’ #BDSM #Gay @mamaD8 @evernightpub

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to Doris O’Connor and her story Her Husband’s Army Buddy!

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Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

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Website ## Amazon Author Page ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Pinterest ## Instagram ## Evernight Publishing ## BookStrand ## Barnes & Noble

~ * ~ ABOUT THE BOOK ~ * ~

Thanks so much for hosting my new release today. Her Husband’s Army Buddy is out now, and the first in a new series called McLeod Security.

Like so many of my stories, this one started as a flash on my blog. Little did I know then, that it would evolve into a series. When I expanded the flash, it was to be a short story in honor of one of my reader’s birthdays. The Sandy in the story. 🙂

As I wrote it took on a life of its own, side characters popped up demanding their story to be told, and hey presto a new series was born. Book two is already completed and the next two are in the planning stages, so watch this space as they.

I should add that all stories will be Standalones, loosely connected through McLeod Security, some darker than others, with different pairings and D/s dynamics, and familiar characters will pop up throughout.

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McLeod Security, 1

There should only ever be two people in a marriage…

Sandy McLeod has been perfectly happy in her D/s relationship with her husband Zane for the last ten years. Until his old army buddy re-enters their life.

Sean Manson is altogether too handsome, too virile, far too much of anything. The man oozes dominance, danger, and leashed aggression, and Sandy can’t help but respond to him. Neither can Zane. He walked away from Sean once. Now, he’s back, long suppressed feelings bubble to the surface and cannot be denied. When Sandy agrees to a threesome, happiness seems within their grasp. Sean’s demons, however, threaten to destroy everything they hold dear.

Sean never meant to come between husband and wife, let alone hurt either one of them. Surely, the only solution is to walk away from them both. When you’re the missing piece, however, walking is simply not an option.

Be Warned: menage sex (MMF), anal sex, BDSM, m/m sex, sex toys, double penetration

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Sean’s gaze heated at Zane’s answer, and he wished there wasn’t a damn table between them. Zane couldn’t stand the physical distance between them anymore. He wanted, needed to reconnect with Sean, just him and his Sir.

“I guess we are. I want you, boy.” Sean’s voice dropped on those last few words, and Zane shot to his feet, rounded the table, and got to his knees in front of his Sir. He fixed his gaze on Sean’s bare feet and murmured his answer.

“Then have me, Sir.”

Sean’s sharp intake of breath was music to his ears, as were his Sir’s next words.

“Be careful what you wish for, boy, because if we’re doing this, then know you’ve earned yourself a sore ass for having neglected our girl.”

Sean grasped Zane’s chin and tilted his head up until their gazes met. Silent determination greeted Zane, as well as so much emotion it made Zane swallow hard to get rid of the lump in his throat.

“I know, and I’m sorry, Sir. I won’t let that happen again. I was just…” He couldn’t bring himself to continue, but he should have known his Sir wouldn’t let him get away with that. The hold on his chin grew painful, and Sean positively glared at him.

“You were just what? Say it out loud, boy. If this is going to work, all three of us we need to talk about everything that bothers us. You know that.”

Zane shut his eyes and nodded.

“You hurt my feelings when you cut yourself off.” The hold on his chin turned into a caress as Sean stroked his fingers along Zane’s jaw, and then kissed him. It was the briefest of touches, so gentle, he might have imagined it, had he not heard the whispered words.

“I know, my love, and I’m sorry. It was a dick move on my part. I won’t cut you out like that again.”

Sean opened his eyes and lost himself in his Sir’s gaze all over again.

“Promise?” he asked, not at all ashamed at the tears he was fighting to not give into.

“I promise, and you must promise me something, too.”

“Anything, Sir.”

“If I ever do that again, pull me up on it.”

Zane didn’t even try to hold his emotions in this time, and he knew he didn’t have to. This was his Sir, and he could deal with his tears, just as he could deal with the burdens Sean carried with him.

“I will, if you promise to do the same for me. We need to be our best for our girl.”

Sean nodded, and swiped the tears off Zane’s face with his fingertips.

“That we do, but right here and now I don’t want to talk about her. I want to redden my boy’s ass to wipe the slate clean and then fuck him senseless until neither one of us can move.”

The words hung in the air between them, and Zane gave his consent.

“God, yes, Sir.”

How they made it up the stairs and into the spare room, Zane would never know. They left a trail of his clothes behind, as he frantically pulled them off, in between kisses, which turned ever more passionate. Teeth clashed, mouths devoured, but, finally, mercifully, he was naked, bent over the end of the bed, and ready to take whatever his Sir had in store.

“Always so eager, my boy.”

Sean’s guttural voice pitched his own need higher, and he rubbed his rock-hard dick along the edge of the bed to gain some much-needed relief.

A red-hot strip of pain exploded across his butt cheeks, and Zane grunted. Fuck, that stung. Not that he had much time to process it, because another, just as hard strike happened, followed by several more in quick succession, which left him panting for breath.

“That’s for trying to get yourself off without me, boy.” Sean’s hands dug into the painful welts he’d just laid across Zane’s ass, and Zane hissed through his teeth at the rough sensation.

“That was my belt, and there’s more of that to come if you don’t behave, are we clear?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”

“Good, now these are for your treatment of Sandy.”

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Doris O’Connor, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey