series was released today.
just for fun.
In a different book, I had a bar scene where the heroine enjoyed hot sex with a very dominating man--one who wasn't even the hero. From the reactions of my beta readers, the domination part of that scene had them "squirming" in their seats everytime they thought of it. Now how can a writer resist an invitation like that?
for your squirming pleasure.
After Kari breaks up with her date during Beginner's Night at Club Shadowlands, she's given the option to continue with an experienced dominant. Despite her steamy fantasies about BDSM, the inexperienced schoolteacher plans to simply observe. Yet under the unyielding hands of Master Dan, she not only participates, but gives him everything he asks for. There is nothing she can hide from him. Not her passion.or her love.
Still mourning the death of his wife, Master Dan avoids getting involved with women and he never takes a sub twice. But this modest little beginner is such a sweetie, one night is far from enough. As he plumbs her responses, taking her ever deeper into the world of BDSM, the gentle submissive begins to show him how barren his life has become and what a dark citadel he's made of his heart.
Oh. She put her hands back in her lap. “What happens now?”
“Now we simply talk about what suits your needs.”
She stared down into her drink, watching the bubbles. His silence had her looking up, right into his observant eyes.
“Needs is another word that bothers you,” he said. “Talking about sex isn’t something you do, is it?”
What, did he have some sort of view into her head? “It wasn’t an acceptable topic of conversation when I was growing up, no.” Her father could expound for hours on purity and innocence without ever saying the sex word.
“Mmmph, in that case, let me run through some options, and we’ll take it from there.”
Options sounded good. Were there options that were the equivalent of sticking one toe in the water? She took another sip of her drink. “All right.”
“I have one request first.”
A request in this place might involve just about anything. She eyed him warily. Nodded.
“Can I get you to sit on my lap while we talk?” He ran a finger over her lower lip, slowly, and she grew aware of how soft her own lips were. His mouth curved up in a wicked smile. “I promise not to put my hands anywhere you don’t want them.”
“But why would I sit on your lap?”
“Sweetheart, it will make it easier for you; sex isn’t something to be discussed at arm’s length, now is it?”
Sex. With him. She might consider this evening an experiment, but sex wasn’t that way. It was personal. He’d be touching her. Intimately. But she wanted this; she really did. “All right.”
She set her drink on the table and rose to her feet, smoothing her dress down. He slid into her place. Reclining back against the armrest, he put his legs up and pulled her into his lap.
With her feet still on the floor, she sat stiffly until he laughed and pulled her down against his chest, her head in the hollow of his shoulder. Sit on his lap? This was more like snuggling…and pretty nice. After a moment, she let her hand rest on his bare chest where the vest had fallen away. She ruffled the crisp hair, tracing her fingers over the hard contours of his chest. He was so darned big, she actually felt tiny next to him—well, on top of him—like her weight was nothing to him.
His voice rumbled through his chest. “There we go. You fit into my arms very nicely—a nice, soft armful.”
His obvious enjoyment warmed her, made her feel feminine and attractive, something she’d been missing for a while now. For two years, actually, since Curt had left her for some hot, skinny artist.
“What was that thought?” Dan asked. She could feel his fingers in her hair, unpinning the French braid.
“Noth—”
“Kari.”
She could hear the warning in his voice, and somehow she didn’t want to disappoint him. “I was thinking about my ex-fiancé.”
“And?”
“And how fat and frigid he made me feel, okay?” she snapped and tried to sit up, but he tucked an arm across her waist and held her in place. Easily.
“Stay here, little one.” He laughed, a low, growling sound. “You have a temper buried under all that politeness. I wonder what else is buried down there.”
“I’m sorry.” He’d only been nice to her, and she’d lashed out.
“I’m not. You know, with both the temper and the worries about your size, you remind me of Z’s sub. Personally I like women with some padding. I like lush.” He stroked up to just under her breasts, and she froze.
“And curvy.” He ran his hand across her hip, squeezed her bottom, continued down her thigh. Everywhere his hand touched, her skin wakened like spring after a hard winter, and warmth washed through her.
“You have the loveliest fair skin,” he murmured, trailing his fingers down her arm. “Soft and creamy, and those pillowy lips of yours would tempt an angel to sin. I’m no angel.” His hand tangled in her loose hair, tipping her head back, and his mouth settled on hers. His lips were firm, demanding, opening hers and taking possession without mercy.
When he pulled back, she was breathing hard, her hand fisted in his vest. God, the man could kiss.
“And only an idiot would call you cold,” he murmured. “Now, back to business. First of all, I need to find out what kind of a submissive you might be. I think I know, but let’s be sure.”
“Submissives come in different types?” How could she know so little?
When she got home, she was going to take a hammer to that stupid dead computer. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can we try multiple choice?”
He laughed. “All right. A: You want to serve a master, making him meals, doing whatever he wants, around the house or in bed. B: You want to play a role for a short time, be a schoolgirl or a secretary, but you’d set up your own rules with your top—ah, the person in charge. C: You want to give up control for sex but not especially for anything else. D: You like pain and want someone to deal it out.”
That was quite a list. “People really want all those different things?”
“Oh, definitely. That was just the short list.” He tugged on her hair. “Give me a letter, sweetheart.”
Well, she knew what she wanted. Why the heck couldn’t she be as blasé about sex as her friends were? She wet her lips. “C. We—I came here—” She sighed. “C.”
“Good enough,” he said easily. “Choice C for sex.”
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Buy link:
http://www.loose-id.com/prod-Masters_of_the_Shadowlands__Dark_Citadel-923.aspx Website:
http://www.cherisesinclair.com/
