Under Orders

Doris O'Connor is one of the best writers whose manuscripts pass my editor's desk, so I'm thrilled to have her back on my blog today! Take it away, Doris! (ad)



Thanks so much for having me here today.

My newest release is an office based romance that started as flash on my blog. I find pictures incredibly inspiring and a number of my flashes have now morphed into longer stories. You can find the original Flash here.

It's a hot pic, which really got my muse going, and the story kept niggling at me, until I sat down to write it.

As per usual with me the story took a different slant to the one I was originally envisaging, when my hero revealed that he was in fact a vampire. A new breed of living, breathing vampire, who is Under Orders as much as Anna is in this story. Add to that the fact that Anna is the daughter of a slayer, and things get truly interesting, and very, very naughty, because these two cannot keep their hands of each other.

Well, let's face it, my characters never do, do they?

*winks*

I had great fun writing this little tale, and I hope readers will enjoy it too.

Who ever heard of being ordered to wear vibrating panties to a business meeting? The visiting CEO may be sex-on-legs-gorgeous, but Anna knows a sexual harassment case when she sees it. No one is going to order her to entertain Jonathan Symmonds—no one but her own body it seems.

Jonathan proves a hard man to resist. When he reveals his secret identity, this daughter of a slayer ought to be running for the hills not play submissive to his dark side.

Will passion and a shared past be enough to keep them together, or is their bond doomed to end at the stake?

Be Warned: bondage, public exhibition

***************

Clearly it had been way too long since Anna had last gotten laid if her body could respond to a complete stranger in this fashion of reckless abandonment.

He turned his attention back to the room, and Anna released the breath she’d been holding. Brian glared at her, and that uneasy feeling in her stomach returned. She squared her shoulders and stared him down, before Jonathan’s hand on her thigh pulled her attention back to him.

“I would like to thank Anna for her diligent attention to detail in drawing up these reports.” He shifted his hand higher during those few words, until he reached the top of her stocking. Digging one finger underneath he caressed the soft skin of her inner thigh, and Anna forced herself not to squirm and give the game away. “She has been most thorough, and the results will show once and for all who is responsible for this current … mishap.”

He smiled briefly, and looked toward Brian. The older man shrank in his seat. His Adam’s apple bobbed wildly as though he could barely hold onto his saliva. Beads of sweat broke out on his ruddy complexion, and Anna was half expecting the pencil he clutched to splinter under the strain of his white knuckled grip.

“I also feel the need to make it clear that Anna acted under direct orders from myself and her immediate superior.” He nodded toward Anna’s boss, and Leonard Peterson shifted to stand behind Brian, his expression as grave as she’d ever seen it.

“No one here should have any reason to hold the findings of this report against Anna.” Again he paused, and his penetrating gaze swept around the room until he seemed satisfied that he had everyone’s undivided attention. At the same time he shifted his hand higher up the inside of her thigh, until his knuckles brushed against the damp fabric covering her slit. Anna bit her lip to stop herself from moaning. The feather light touch seared her core, and her internal muscles clenched in need. The fabric grew wetter, and he was bound to notice. She risked a peek at his profile, and the slight elevation to his bottom lip told her that he knew exactly how turned on she was.

He took a deep breath and brushed his forefinger against her clit, pressing down just enough to make the little nubbin tingle in anticipation. That smirk of his deepened, when she couldn’t help her involuntary jump in response.

“Likewise no one in this room has anything to fear from these findings, unless they have not been acting in the company’s best interests. If you have indeed been mishandling funds then now would be a prudent time to own up to this fact.”

Again he paused, and Anna held her breath. He looked every inch the ruthless and dangerous business man he was reported to be. His harsh features had drawn tight, his high cheek bones accentuated under the artificial lighting that filled the room, despite the blaring sun outside the windows overlooking London’s skyline. He held himself perfectly still, the muscles bulging in tension under the light summer suit he wore. Only his finger moved in slow, measured circles, designed to drive Anna to the brink of insanity. She grasped hold of her armrests again, and coughed to hide her moan as that finger slipped under the elastic of her underwear and teased her entrance.

“I-I—” Brian shot out of his chair and looked as though he would have made a run for it, had Leonard not grabbed him by the suit lapels and pinned him against the wall. The door burst open, and two burly security guards took over and dragged Brian from the room. Anna was barely aware of the ensuing commotion, because Jonathan chose that moment to thrust two fingers knuckle deep inside her channel. Her pussy walls tightened around the digits, and Anna shut her eyes against the rising sensation deep within. There was something so deliciously naughty about the CEO finger-fucking her under the table.

The barely functioning rational side of her brain urged her to scream, to do something. He was taking liberties with her body that he had no right to take, but the other horny as hell part of her told that side to shut the fuck up, even as Jonathan added his thumb to her clit, pushing her closer and closer to release.

“Leonard, get Anna a glass of water. She is looking a little flushed.”

Her eyes flew open at the amused words, and she knew her cheeks must be as red as the roses in the vase across the room, when her boss stepped close enough to her to see exactly what was happening under the table. Jonathan did not release her. If anything he stepped up his assault, curling his fingers in such a way that he massaged her sweet spot deep inside.

Leonard cleared his throat repeatedly, and the water splashed over the side of the glass he was pouring for Anna, masking the wet sounds of Jonathan’s fingers thrusting in and out of her sopping cunt. She would leave a visible stain on her skirt and chair at this rate, but Anna could no more stop herself from climbing towards bliss than she could stop breathing. She dug her fingers into the arms of her chair and bit her lip so hard she drew blood, as her orgasm hit her with the full force of a speeding train. Irrespective of where she was, or perhaps because of it, waves of pleasure crashed over her, as her body shook in delicious aftershocks. Jonathan did not withdraw his fingers until the last of her shudders stopped, and when she opened her eyes it was to find the room empty, bar the three of them.

Buy Links:

Evernight 

Bookstrand
All Romance
Amazon

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Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris... at least that's what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not. 

There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.

She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

STALKING LINKS:

Website Blog Twitter Facebook Pinterest Evernight Publishing

Amazon All Romance E-Books BookStrand Barnes&Noble

The Billionaire's Unwanted Virgin

(Yay, Doris is back! What a great author she is, a woman who really understands what love is...)

I am incredibly excited to be back here at Boundless as the Sea with my newest release The Billionaire's Unwanted Virgin. 

The media seems to be awash with stories lately of virgins selling their virginity. I was quite surprised when I did a recent Google search, because this idea first came to me back in October last year, when the first story hit the newsstands. It caused quite a stir here in the UK with everyone and their dog having an opinion on this young lady. I noticed not many wondered as to what sort of man would purchase such a virgin.

My muse, however, did wonder, and she pondered this for some time.

What sort of man would spend that amount of money for one night of sex? He had to have more money than sense, really. Or did he?

What if it wasn't him who did the purchasing, but his recently deceased and flighty younger brother? And what if said man was intensely private, couldn't afford any scandal to attach to his name, and needed to get married?

Well, my yummy, tortured half Sioux billionaire, Lakota is all of the above, and when he realizes that he has been gifted Alice—a young woman unlike any he's encountered before—all the bets are off. Locking her into marriage will remedy his need for a wife and slay his lust, for surely that's all he's feeling for his little Alice, right?

*grins*

Yes, well—you know those Alphas—hot as hell and forever denying their feelings….

I had great fun writing Alice and Lakota's story. I laughed, I cried, and I may have needed to jump my own hubby a few times, after writing their scorching sex scenes.

*winks*

I leave you with the blurb and excerpt.

Blurb:

Lay back and think of England, she could do this. It was only sex, after all. Auctioning off her virginity was the easy part—going through with it not so easy. When Alice realizes who has acquired her, keeping her emotions out of the deal seems an impossible task.

Self-made billionaire Lakota, Lance Kemnay has no time for women, let alone one, who would sell her virginity to the highest bidder. Ever practical, however, he sees in Alice a solution to his immediate need for a wife. The emotions she stirs in him are just lust, and lust can be dealt with. As they connect emotionally and physically, his resolve to keep his heart aloof is tested beyond limits.

Can he trust his tender feelings, or has he been taken for a fool by the one woman he thought he could trust?



Excerpt:

He'd bound her to him with the ridiculous terms of their arrangement, and he had no idea how she really felt about him. That her body desired him, of that there was no doubt. Could there ever be more between them? Was the trust she exhibited in her submission to him enough to build a relationship on?

Would she want to stay with him once the arranged time was over? His little Alice was a romantic. Would she settle for a life with what little he had to offer, knowing full well that he was incapable of ever saying the words every woman wanted to hear?

"Lakota?" Her uncertain whisper shook him out his maudlin thoughts. This was here, and this was now. He would live in the moment and worry about all that later. Right now he had his woman where he wanted her.

"I'm here, my sweet. Relax."

She drew in a breath and another, in a visible effort to calm her nerves, and he bent down and kissed her again.

"Remember those candles you admired on that stall in Colombo, my sweet?"

She stilled completely and her breaths grew choppier, and he smiled.

"I see that you do… Now, feel their kiss, and fly for me."

He'd gone hard as nails in the middle of the crowded market at her innocent reaction to his whispered comment that these were far more than scented candles. He'd bought them on impulse, waiting for the right moment to introduce them. He knew her well enough by now to know how far he could push her, and he wanted to give her the pleasure this play brought.

She flinched at the first drop of wax hit her just below the collarbone, and he swiped the drop away, watching her closely for her reaction. Again and again he repeated the process, until she arched into the touch of the wax on her skin.

He drew patterns around her breasts, leaving the wax to settle, and letting the flame burn a little hotter each time. Her breathing changed to the slow, deep state of relaxed awareness he wanted her to be in as he scribed what was in his heart on her quivering tummy.

By the time he was done his dick was just about ready to explode, and Alice was so wet, the covers were stained under her ass. He smiled to himself at the face of housekeeping in the morning and poured one last heavy drop of wax over her hugely distended clit at the same time as he thrust his cock into the tight clasp of her body, with a growled, "Come for me, baby."

****

Alice came so hard and so fast she could barely catch her breath. The sensation of the hot wax dripping over her most sensitive flesh coupled with the feel of him sliding deep into her core, his weight pinning her in place proved too much.

She was dimly aware of Lakota reaching his own pinnacle in record time, and then she was free. Released from her bonds and held securely in his arms, she blinked to get her eyes to focus.

Her body was covered in multi-colored patters of wax, and he'd traced a word into her lower abdomen—Mine.

Alice bit back her tears, and Lakota's hands settled over her fingers tracing the word. She looked at him, and she held her breath at the emotion she glimpsed in his eyes, before he masked it.

"I will run you a bath, and you can soak it off. I'm not going near that beautiful skin of yours with a knife."

"Do we have to take it off?"

He grew very still at her husky question, and his voice was hoarse when he finally answered.

"I don't want you getting sore. This is your first time. We don't know how your skin will react."

Alice smiled at the protectiveness and concern behind those words.

"I seem to be having a lot of firsts around you, Mr. Kemnay."

BUY LINKS: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-billionaires-unwanted-virgin-by-doris-oconnor/

http://www.bookstrand.com/the-billionaires-unwanted-virgin-mf

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thebillionaire039sunwantedvirgin-1189225-147.html

http://www.amazon.com/The-Billionaires-Unwanted-Virgin-ebook/dp/B00CMTKDSG


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Author Bio:

Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris... at least that's what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.

There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.

She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

STALKING LINKS:

Website Blog Twitter Facebook Pinterest Evernight Publishing

Amazon All Romance E-Books BookStrand Barnes&Noble

Too Devious to Tame

The Giovanni Clan saga continues...

Today we have the wonderful Doris O'Connor visiting to tell us about her new release, Too Devious to Tame. It's always a pleasure to have Doris with us, because not only is she a dear friend, she has our utmost respect, as she is both a supermom and a super-author!

All right, Doris! What do you have to say for yourself? What excuses are you going to make for your awesomeness? ;)

***************

Thanks so much for having me here today!

Hands up who likes sexy Italian men? How about feisty heroines, dynamic family relationships, hot sex, and a haunting love story? How about we throw in some beautiful scenery with a generous dash of danger, and twists and turns to take your breath away and keep you on the edge of your seat?

You do, do you? Well, it just so happens that book three of my Giovanni Clan series, has all that and more.

I touch on some tough issues in this story and we seem to have jumped a heat level as a result. When Jemima's past catches up with her, it falls to cousin Giorgio to honor the promises he made in book two of the series. If you haven't read the previous books, don't worry, you'll catch up. The stories stand on their own. However, if you feel the need to check them out, don't let me stop you ;-)

Too Hot to Handle, book one in the series is reduced to just 99 cents for a limited time only, and it happens to have one very sexy firefighter in it.

*grins*

To celebrate the releases of Too Devious To Tame I am giving one lucky reader a chance to win either of the first two books in the series. Winner's choice. Just leave me a comment!

Readers already familiar with the stories will recognize Jemima and Giorgio from book two. In Too Devious To Tame I delve into the mechanics of their relationship. These two have a past, and the choices they made come to haunt them in this book.

Will they make it through, and safely out of the tangled webs they've created?

***************

What it's about...

When Giorgio Giovanni tracks the troublesome Jemima down in a hospital bed in Italy, he has one thing on his mind—revenge. However, the fragile woman he encounters is not the devious female he remembers. When it becomes clear that she is in danger, he risks everything to keep her safe.

Left for dead, Jemima wakes up in hospital, terrified, and with no idea of her identity. The angry man, who comes to claim her, is the only link to a shared past she can't remember. A past that threatens to destroy them, and all she has ever held dear.

With danger all around them, and their sexual chemistry off the scale, can they find their way back to each other, or is the past too devious to tame?

*************

A taste...

Tears clouded her vision at the concern in his voice, and he swore and moved to untie her.

"No, I'm fine, really. Leave it. Show me how it should be, please. Help me to forget."

He stared at her for the longest time, one large hand, hot and heavy on her belly, his gaze so intense it took her breath away. When he finally smiled, it lit up his harsh features. She didn't catch the murmured Italian words he mumbled under his breath, but the kiss that followed had her curl her toes into the bed with the effort to not release herself from her bonds and bury her hands in his hair to make him hurry up and fuck her.

He was breathing as heavily as she by the time he released her, and she bit back a moan when he simply ripped the rest of her dress off her. Her bra and knickers followed the fate of her dress, until she lay in front of him naked, wet, and wanting. He ran his knuckles slowly up and down her tummy in ever widening circles, and then reached across to the ice bucket with a slow grin.

"Shut your eyes for me, cara." His voice had dropped an octave, and her stomach dropped right with it, seeing him hold a couple of ice cubes in his fingers. She shook her head and bucked off the bed, when he flicked his hand over her breasts. Ice cold drops of water fell on her skin and trickled between the valley of her breasts. He licked the drops away, his warm tongue taking away the coldness left by the water.

"Shut your eyes, trust me. This will be so much better for you when you can't see what I'm doing." He kissed a path down her quivering tummy, and she blinked back tears at the tender way he caressed her abdomen. He paused to drop a long kiss just above her pubic bone, and his hot breath teased her wet folds. Her clit tingled, and she shut her eyes, as he renewed his request for her to do so. She couldn't see what he was doing, but the bed dipped as he adjusted his weight again. His hot mouth closed over one of her nipples at the same time as the other was subjected to an ice cube being circled around it.

She gasped at the intense sensation, and Giorgio swapped sides. The difference between his warm mouth and tongue and the ice cube sent her body into spasms of need. She writhed under him, and he laughed. Again and again he repeated the process all along her body. A path of ice, followed by the warmth of his tongue as he licked the icy trails away, leaving fiery awareness in its wake. By the time he finally reached her pussy, she was hovering on the brink of orgasm. She whimpered her need when he pushed an ice cube high into her channel and then proceeded to lick around her clit, careful to never touch her when she needed him most. The melting ice cube mixed in with her own juices and trickled slowly out her hole. Her pussy clenched, and she didn't recognize the needy voice pleading with him to please do something.

He blew against her slit and shouldered her legs wider.

"Così bello, e tutto mio." He followed the words with a kiss, and she screamed when he pulled her clit into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, at the same time as he pushed another ice cube into her empty channel. Her walls closed around the slippery object, and spasmed wildly as the first quivers of her orgasm hit. Giorgio groaned into her core and stepped up his sweet torture on her clit. When he pushed two fingers into her core, and massaged her sweet spot, the intensity of her orgasm hit her with the full force of freight train.

"That's it, tesoro, fly for me." He caught her scream of release in his mouth, and she could taste herself in the passionate kiss he gave her, dimly aware of him withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his cock. Thick, hard, and so very long he filled her completely as he pushed into her swollen core, until he was seated to the hilt. She wrapped her legs around him and dug her feet into his calves to give him better access and to take him as deep as she could. He started thrusting, every move driving him deeper into her, and tumbling her right over the edge again, as her inner muscles contracted around his thick member. Faster and faster he pumped, his harsh breathing in her ear the most erotic sound ever, his hands and lips seemingly everywhere, arousing every little bit of skin he touched until her whole body was a mass of sensation. Again her body climbed toward that peak of sheer joy, and this time Giorgio was with her every step of the ecstatic journey they took together. Her eyes flew open, and she drowned in the rolling depths of emotion she saw reflected in his, as they came together in their explosive release.

When her body finally stopped shaking, she could taste the salt of tears in her mouth. Giorgio kissed them off her face, and he released her from her bonds, and pulled her into his embrace. She had to smile at his grumbled, "If this is pretending, then I hate to see what will happen when we do this for real."

Buy

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Author Bio: 

Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris...at least that's what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.

There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.

She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Find Doris on the web here:
Website Blog Twitter Facebook Pinterest

Buy links for Too Devious to Tame!

Evernight

AmazonBookstrand
All Romance

Masks of a Tiger

We're always happy to welcome author Doris O'Connor back to Boundless as the Sea. She's got quite a knack for telling a great story, and her scenes and characters are hot hot hot! Her Club Ink series continues with this latest installment...

Neeve doesn't understand why any normal person would choose to wear a collar, like a common house pet. So, the collaring ceremony of her best friend's sister in law is the last place she wants to be, even if the hot men watching her send her insides aflame. 

Never one for missing the opportunity to teach a bratty sub manners, Grisha intends to show the fiery little redhead the error of her ways. He doesn't expect to see her drawn to the flame like the proverbial moth. When she hurts herself in ways that even a Dom of his experience finds hard to witness, he knows he needs to help her. Will their sexual chemistry be enough to chase away their demons and burn away their masks? Or is the submission Grisha demands too much for Neeve to accept?

***************

The deep, animalistic growl erupting from his chest caused more of her juices to flood her pussy, and she hastily followed his order of, "Hang on to me, sweetheart. We need to take this to the dungeon."

The way he said the word dungeon sent a shiver down her body, as images of him in another dungeon filled her mind. The barely functioning rational side of her brain screamed at her what the fuck she was doing, but her body just wasn't listening. Being this close to him, the need to stay in his arms consumed her. Her empty pussy ached to be possessed by this man. The heat of his thick, rock hard cock burned her through his jeans, and when he placed her on the huge bed dominating one side of the room, she didn't want to lose the contact. He chuckled into her neck and licked the sensitive skin. The curiously rough texture of his tongue sent her nerve endings tingling, and she locked her ankles behind his butt, and ground her clit against him again.

God, she was so close, so damn close, if only…

Her eyes flew open, and the world tilted when he disentangled himself from her in one easy move. Before she knew what happened he had her lying over his knees, her dress pulled up to her hips, thong pulled down to her knees pinning them together. One of his arms over her back held her down.

"Don't move, sweetheart, or this will hurt." She froze. Surely he wouldn't spank her? And why did the thought of that make more of her juices leak out of her? Why was she not screaming no, or red, or whatever the hell one screamed in such circumstances? Instead, she was in danger of staining his jeans with her arousal.

"Don't you dare spank me. I'm not five years old!" Even to her own ears the protest sounded feeble, and Grisha swatted her ass several times in quick succession. The force behind those swats pushed her further into his lap, and tears sprang to her eyes. He massaged her ass cheeks, and the hot burn eased and spread in tingles of awareness. Her pussy clamped, and she felt the wetness on the top of her thighs.

"Bastard! You have no right, you … oh—What are you doing? Oh God, yes, don’t stop."

Grisha's amused chuckle vibrated through her, as he trailed something cold and smooth along her slit repeatedly. He followed the object with his fingers, the heat of those digits burning a path of awareness along her labia. She jumped when he circled her clit, and he murmured his approval at her panted reaction. She tried to push herself against that hand, and she screamed in surprise when he pinched her clit.

"That's not the way this works, sweetheart. You'll come when I let you, not before, and not until you tell me the truth."

Again he traced her slit with the object, and Neeve bucked when it started vibrating. He pushed the toy slightly into her channel, and her cunt clamped around the barely there invasion, her internal muscles desperately trying to pull it in further to no avail. Grisha kept it there on the edge, driving her insane with the need to come. The orgasm hovered just out of her reach, and she groaned her frustration to the floor, pummeling his legs in the process.

Another swat to the ass was her reward. Her tender flesh stung and burned, the slight pain adding to the assault on her senses.

"So, what will it be, Neeve? Are you going to tell me the truth, or do I carry on with your punishment?"

"P-punishment?" Neeve panted the words as her body climbed again. "You call this punishment? Is that all you've got?"

Why she felt the need to goad him she couldn't say, but by God, her body might be betraying her, but that didn't mean that she would give in that easily.

"No, sweetheart, I call this torture, and I can keep this up for hours." She heard the smile in his voice, but there was an unmistakable edge of command in those words, and her stomach clenched in excitement.

"You're so fucking wet for me, and your ass is so pink—it’s a beautiful sight, sweetheart. So tell me if you’re not a sub, then why is your essence staining my jeans? Why is that sweet cunt of yours quivering and weeping? It's just waiting for my thick cock to fill you, isn't it?"

He pushed the dildo all the way in, angling it until it hit her g-spot, and Neeve saw stars. He fucked her with merciless precision until she was a quivering mass of need and would have said anything to get off.

"Please, please … I need to come … please, Grisha."

The swat to her ass stung, and his voice could have cut glass.

"You will call me, Sir, sub. And you will answer my questions without evasion." He pushed the dildo all the way in and covered her slit with his hand, whilst the vibrations inside her increased to almost unbearable levels. He pushed one of his fingers into her anus, and Neeve screamed out loud. That felt way too good.

"Please, please, I will, please, just let me—"

"Let you what my sweet, Neeve? Let you come? Do you need to come?" His husky words in her ear grounded her, as he molded his naked chest against her back and pulled her hair until she looked sideways and up into his eyes. Glittering, golden orbs of intensity they pulled her into his will, and she couldn’t have looked away if her life depended on it.

"Yes," she whispered, and he smiled.

"Then what do you call me?"

"Yes, Sir."

His brilliant answering smile of approval spread through her and left darts of heat along her skin.

"And you'll answer my questions?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir." "Then come, sweetheart. Come for me now."

***************

Get your copy here!

Evernight

Amazon

Bookstrand

All Romance

And find Doris here!
Evernight 
Doris' Website
Doris' Blog
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Hear Doris RAWR! "Tiger Scars" is here!

Hello everyone! I'm delighted to be back here with my newest release Tiger Scars, book two in my Club Ink series. I never set out to write any of my series. They tend to creep up on me. This one is no exception. When I wrote book one, Riding Her Tiger, I noticed the tension between Ink and the bar maid, Cherie. Something going on there… 

***************

Again Estelle's eyes strayed to the stage, and Cherie whistled under her breath.

"The man himself, hey? Well, good luck with taming him."

"What do you mean?" Estelle asked, her insides once again churning at the shadow that crossed Cherie's features briefly as she, too, looked towards the stage.

"Nothing, doll, don't you worry. He knows what he's doing. Ignore me." Cherie fixed a smile on her face and busied herself with wiping the immaculate bar top. When she did eventually look up, some undefined emotion in her deep brown eyes stopped Estelle from asking any other questions.

***************

Yeah, that had me wondering. Clearly, there was some sort of a history between Cherie and Ink. Well, imagine my surprise when Cherie announced that she was in fact a tiger shifter and Ink's mate.

"Err, say what?" goes I, in my oh so eloquent way.

How the dickens is that going to work? And if she's his mate then why….?

As to why, you will have to read the book, but it turns out they have one heck of a history, and it falls to Ink to try to heal both their scars. He will have to use every last weapon in his arsenal to do so.

***************

All right, Doris. Tell us what this book's about!

Can some scars ever truly heal?

Cherie ran away from Ink once. She is not going to get the chance to do so again, but helping her heal will take all of his skills as a Dom. Using Shibari, Knife play, and Ménage sex, he shows her that pleasure can be found in the things that haunt her.

Emotionally and physically scarred Cherie has sought refuge at Club Ink, where she keeps everyone at arm's length. When Ink forces her to face up to her demons, does her submission hold the key to her future happiness? Or will their shared past destroy them once and for all?

***************

Give us a taste, Doris!

Cherie couldn't have heard him right? Her heart beat frantically. There was a rushing in her ears, and the deep yearning of want pumped through her veins, as the never far away dark memories threatened to engulf her anew. He stood watching her, arms now crossed over his chest, every molecule in his being solely focused on her. The noises of the club faded away, their awareness of each other cocooning them in their own little bubble of reality. What did he mean, would she let him try? Try what?

She didn't realize she had said that out loud, until Ink sighed. He was close enough for the action to raise the fine hair curling over her damp neck, and she held her breath when he tucked at the few strands and lifted them away. With the same care he'd traced the tats on her arms, he traced the faint mark of his possession on her neck, and her tiger purred in recognition of its mate. His tiger's answering growl of possession trembled through her. Cherie braced herself for the inevitable flood of adrenaline, as he stepped closer still, caging her in against the side of the bar, so close to her that she felt his chest rise and fall with his measured intake of breath, a direct contrast to her own shallow breaths that were starting to make her feel light headed. He dipped his head and inhaled, the slight stubble on his face scraping against the delicate skin on her neck and creating delicious friction. He dropped a feather light kiss on her pulse point, licked along the side of her jaw and then traced the contours of her lips with his rough tongue. Her eyes fluttered shut at his encouraging murmur, and she opened instinctively at his whispered command of, "Open for me, baby girl. Let me in."

His tongue swept past the barrier of her lips, but instead of the forceful invasion she was expecting, the tender exploration stunned her. His hold on her hair loosened, and he trailed his hands down her sides until he cupped the globes of her ass, lifting her higher into him until her feet dangled off the floor. She whimpered her need into the kiss, and he took it deeper, his tiger's growl rolling through her when she kissed him back, hesitant at first, and when the dreaded waves of panic didn't materialize, with increasing urgency. Her own hands snug up his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, and he ground his hips into her pussy, as she locked her legs around his waist.

"As marvelous as this display is, you're needed on stage, Ink."

Grisha's amused drawl broke through their sensual haze, and Cherie froze. Ink released her mouth with one small nip to her bottom lip and perched her on the side of the bar.

"Didn't think vanilla was your style, boss." Cherie held her breath at the murderous expression darkening Ink's features, all too aware that her fingers were still curled into the straps of Ink's vest, her ankles locked behind his tightly clenched butt. She hastily dropped her legs, but before she could uncurl her fingers, Ink grabbed hold of her wrists.

"Shut the fuck up, Grisha, and mind your own business. I'll be there in a minute."

"A minute will be a minute too late."

Cherie jumped at Ink's threatening growl in response. Clearly Grisha had a death wish today. She winced as Ink's claws ran out, scraping along her wrists, his tiger's eyes briefly connecting with hers, before he roared at Grisha, baring his beast's full set of lethal looking teeth. Grisha threw his hands up and took a step back, his own tiger bowing down to the superior male, even though had he shifted completely, every one of his hackles would have been raised.

Ink's tender kiss to the inside of Cherie's wrists focused her attention back on him. As rapidly as he'd changed he was back to his human self, his amber eyes warm and comforting, as he cupped her chin.

"The fleabag is right on one count. I need to be up on that stage. Now, I know this will be hard on you, but I want you to watch the show. Can you do that for me, baby girl?"

"I … I…" Cherie swallowed past the rising surge of panic. Ink smiled at her, his thumb swiping across her bottom lip, the pressure on her chin just enough to keep her focused on him. The just reawakening submissive part of her wanted to please him, wanted to agree, even enjoy the spectacle of the show, but ropes and cages would never again be a source of pleasure for her. She had almost hyperventilated earlier, just walking past the display cages being set up on stage. Cages meant pain and humiliation and loss too intense to allow herself to dwell on it.

"I won't make you. This is your choice. Everything is your choice, baby girl. You know that, right?" 

*************** 

And before folks come after with me pitchforks, Grisha's story will be next! Feel the need to mention that, as I've had several readers ask me already.

I had planned on writing his story in book two, 'cause he was another character that crept up on me demanding some attention. But, alas, it was not to be. He couldn't have done what he did in this book, had he found his sub already. Grisha, too, has an interesting story he is slowly revealing to me.

Joys of being a panster and all that…

Thanks again for letting me ramble on, Adonis.

Get it at Amazon, too!

Find me on the web here

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Doris O'Connor's addition to the NFT!

Welcome back to Boundless as the Sea. Today we are pleased to have NFT's own Doris O'Connor with us, a top-notch author with sizzling stories. Total raunch here, and I mean that in a good way! Got tons of respect for her, so pour yourself a cup of whatever you're drinking, and pull up a chair. 


Want to win a copy of this naughty fairy tale? Comment below for your chance!


OK, take it away, Doris!

***************

Hi everyone!

I'm delighted to be back here at Boundless as the Sea with my newest release and my contribution to Evernight Publishing's Naughty Fairy Tales series, The Last Of His Kind.

Ever since I first saw the submission call for this series, I've been itching to write something for it, but the right Fairy Tale just didn't grab me. And a story has to grab me by the fingertips and force me to write it, that's just the way my muse works.

As is always the case lately, inspiration came out of nowhere. One of my crit partners collared me in Skype and she shared this idea her mum had, involving the Loch Ness monster.

"I thought of you, cause you do shifters so well, so there, I give it to you."

My muse went, "oooohh", and "ooooh, oh, oh I see," (I know, she is eloquent, eh), and I immediately abandoned my current wip and Doric was born.

He was an instant, strong voice in my head, and as I wrote I kept thinking of the Little Mermaid. So again my muse did her rather eloquent jumping up and down like a loon. A little bit of research later, and wouldn't you know it the origins of the Loch Ness legends fit my idea perfectly 

So there you have it – one Naughty Fairy Tale, which is a twist on The Little Mermaid with a dose of Beauty and the Beast thrown in for good measure.

***************

What do you do when you stumble upon a naked, injured Adonis on your morning jog? You take him home and nurse him back to health of course. If that involves the hottest sex a girl ever had, then so much the better, right? 

Penelope Jefferson has returned to her childhood vacation spot at Loch Ness for peace, solitude, and inspiration. When she stumbles upon Doric she is floored by her body's instantaneous reaction to the clit-clenching stranger who washed up from the Loch.

Doric is the last of his kind. Cursed into the Loch by a witch's spell, he needs acceptance from the very species he detests. When his little human is abducted after their night of bliss, will it spell the end for them both, or will they get to live the fairy tale?

***************

"Well, for starters I haven't got any clothes." He chuckled at her sharp intake of breath, when he dropped the material he'd used to cover his arousal. "Of course if you don't mind, then let's go." 
"Err, do you mind? Let me find you something better to cover up with. You'll do someone an injury with…with that."

She wrenched her eyes up to his face, only for her gaze to stray back down to his hardening cock. Her breathing grew shallow, and the scent of her arousal in the air made his mind up. He would deal with the aftermath in the morning. He needed to heal, and he had the perfect means to achieve that standing in front of him. It had been way too long. He just hoped he could control his true self.

****

Oh the man was infuriating and arousing in equal measures. She once again wrenched her eyes away from that huge cock, suddenly all too aware how isolated the cottage was. No one would hear her screams, should he choose to attack her. The mere thought had her heart miss a beat, before it turned into a jackhammer, even as the barely functioning rational side of her brain told her not to be so stupid. She was hardly God's gift to men. He seemed perfectly able to control himself, and everyone knew men's cocks had a mind of their own. It didn't mean he would rip her clothes off. She'd never evoked that kind of passion in a man before. She had no boobs to speak of, her hips were too wide, her legs too skinny, and the damn glasses, well, they spelled librarian, not sex goddess, as her ex-fiancé had accused her of acting like all too frequently.

"Has anyone ever told you, you think too much?" His deep voice shook her out of her musings, and his hot breath fogged up her glasses. When had he gotten so close? The tip of his now fully erect cock left a wet stain along her tummy, and Penelope took an involuntary step back. The smile on his face could only be described as predatory, as he matched her step by step until her back hit the wall. She swallowed nervously when he took her glasses off her nose, and pulled the hairband out of her hair. His large hand massaged the back of her neck, and he caged her against the wall until she couldn't move. Heat suffused her being as his natural scent surrounded her, and his body heat seeped into her very bones. He towered over her, and panic set in for one minute, before the sharp yank of her hair brought tears to her eyes and forced her head up to look at him.

"I asked you a question, ceannbeag." The softly spoken words held an edge of steel she found unable to resist. Her pussy clenched, and her nipples tightened; and she bit back a moan as he yanked her hair again, just hard enough to hurt, just hard enough for her to soak her panties. A flash of triumph in the depths of his rapidly darkening golden eyes preceded his knowing smile. He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she licked her lips, willing him to close the distance and kiss her. She tried to get her hands up to pull him down for that kiss she so desperately craved, but he had her pinned so effectively, she couldn't move.

He shook his head at her ineffective attempts.

"Well? Would you like me to stop those thoughts I see swirling in your eyes? But I warn you." He pulled back slightly, and Penelope drew a shuddering breath into her lungs. "Thinking will not be allowed, and I expect complete obedience. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Did she? Did she ever! Was this man even real, or was she still asleep and this was all a dream? Who looked like that and washed up on her shore naked, and injured, and still able to turn her insides into a quivering mass of need just by the way he looked at her? He watched her now out of hooded eyes with an unwavering gaze that raised goose-bumps on her flesh. Instantly his warm hands rubbed up and down her exposed arms, and a shiver of a different kind went down her spine. His nostrils flared, and the grip on her arms grew painful.

"If you want me to leave, you have to tell me now." His voice had dropped an octave, his accent thicker than before. "If you want me to stay, and I sure as fuck hope you do, then know that you're mine to do with as I see fit. I will use your body until you scream your surrender and my cock has filled you every which way you can think of and some you couldn't even imagine."

Oh good God. I'm doomed. If this is a dream then I really must eat more cheese to make sure I have more of them.

"Do I get a safe word?" She barely heard her own whisper over the roaring in her ears. Her heart beat so fast she felt faint and had his body not been holding her up, she would have simply sunk to the floor in a puddle of her own arousal. Never, ever had she been this turned on, and he'd barely touched her.

"Pick one."

"Nessie."

***************

Thanks again for having me here, Adonis!

Find Doris on the web here:

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Doris O'Connor's "Too Cold to Love"

Guess who's back? That's right! Doris O'Connor, the prolific writer I love to work with. Today she's here answering questions about herself and her writing, so pull up a chair and learn more about this fabulous author!

AD: Thanks for taking time out of your super busy real-life and writing schedules to talk to us today. So, how long have you been writing? Writing romance? Was writing always something you have wanted to do? Or is it something that just developed?

DO: I've always spun stories in my head, for as long back as I can remember. As a teenager I started countless novels, as you do, lol. As an adult, life got in the way for a while, but I always thought one day I would. Then a friend entered the Mills & Boon New Voices Competition back in September 2010, and I thought to myself, why not give it a go? I didn't get anywhere in that competition, but it sparked my muse, and I've been writing ever since. It had to be romance, because that's all I read really. I just love a HEA.

AD: What inspired you to write the Giovanni Chronicles?

DO: I heard about NaNoWriMo, again back in 2010 and with a few of my newly formed critique group decided to give it a whirl. I wrote the first draft of book one of the Giovanni in about twenty days. I'm a panster, so the story just evolved from a vague idea I had, and I enjoyed the Giovanni so much, I just carried on writing.

AD: What draws you to multicultural stories? Does this element show up in many other works of yours?

DO: Well, that wasn't a conscious decision. Though thinking about it, I shouldn't have been surprised. Hubby and I are very much living our own multicultural romance—I'm German, he's English/Irish—and family, well they can be interesting, right? So, it made sense to me to explore the dynamics of a huge Italian family. I like huge families. Hubby and I have a brood of nine kids, so it's a subject dear to my heart.

AD: *hugs* Too Cold to Love is your second story in the Giovanni series. Was it originally intended to be a series? If not, what inspired you to continue? Do you have any further stories in this series planned?

DO: I didn't intend to write a series, nope. But like I said above, I enjoyed writing about them so much, I just had to carry on. I had great fun, revisiting Alex and Kitty from Book One and seeing how they fared eighteen months on. Stella plays a big part in this book, too. I do like Stella! In fact she is niggling at me as I type, so she may well get her own story. I have a definite third book planned for the series. When I wrote Too Cold to Love it became clear that Marco's cousin Giorgio and Elise's twin Jemima have unresolved history, so naturally I will have to explore that in book three.

AD: What would you say is the greatest flaw that Marco has? Elise? What are their finest qualities?

DO: Hmm, you're making me think. Marco's greatest flaw is his cynicism. He has good reason for it, but he always assumes the worst of people. Elise's greatest flaw is her devotion to her twin sister. It's also her finest quality, her loyalty to those she loves. Marco's finest quality is how deeply he feels things. He gives a good impression of being a cold fish, but he so isn't, as Elise discovers. And he's very inventive. *grins*

AD: How long did it take you to write Too Cold to Love?

DO: I wrote the first draft in a month, and then didn't look at it again for ages. Once book one had been accepted by Evernight I knew I needed to give Too Cold to Love a serious overhaul. It was my early work, so there were a lot newbie mistakes in there, and I needed to spice it up, or so I thought, lol. I was quite surprised how hot it was in places. When I first wrote it I wasn't aiming at the erotic market, but clearly Marco knew me better than I knew myself ;-)

AD: Which couple was easier to write, Marco and Elise or Alex and Kitty?

DO: Alex and Kitty was easier! It took me a while to get Marco to open up and I didn't like him much at the beginning. Actually I didn't like him at all, and I was a tad worried that readers wouldn't either. But as Elise got under his skin, and he told me why he's acting in the way he is, I fell hopelessly in love with him. He was my first truly tortured hero, and I do like a tortured hero. Elise heals him as much as he heals her, as the story unfolds. If ever two people need each other, it's those two.

AD: Who is your favorite individual character from that series?

DO: Now, that has to be Stella Giovanni. She is such a character.

AD: Please describe a typical writing session for us.

DO: I would if there was such a thing as a typical writing session. No I rephrase that. Typically I get interrupted about a gazillion times, by baby, toddler, child, teen, husband, dog and at times even cat. I do my whirlwind impression of tidying the house, and wash and dry several loads of laundry in-between typing. I swallow a curse when baby hits a button and an hour's work deletes in front of my eyes. I snap at the toddler, as I lose my train of thought, and then spend the next three hours making it up to him, cause I feel guilty when his face crumbles, even though he'll have forgotten about it in five minutes. I talk to my characters out loud on the school run and scare the locals.

I cook dinner with the netbook perched on the side, because I just have to finish 'that' chapter. I get irritated because the kids will not go to bed. Don't they know I have a story to write, dang it.

And finally, when all is quiet, I type away feverishly and end up going to bed at two in the morning, because I'm in the flow. I can't sleep because those pesky characters keep talking to me. I get up at six am and finally start to function after about three coffees. I drop the kids at school and we start the whole thing all over again.

AD: What is the most surprising thing about you?

DO: I have no patience, none. Really I don't! Folks always assume I must have, because we have so many kids, but heck no. Ask them if you don't believe me. They will dissolve into fits of giggles. 

Thanks so much for having me here today!



TOO COLD TO LOVE

Marco Giovanni has shut off his emotions, following a messy divorce. His small daughter and his chain of bakeries are all he needs in his life. The string of nannies are an unfortunate necessity he could well do without. So why does his body have to remember its needs now with the latest and most unsuitable nanny ever?

Elise has always been the responsible one, so when she receives yet another SOS phone call from her wayward twin, she does the only thing she can do, she steps into her shoes. Having to go back to nannying is hard enough, the unexpected attraction to her arrogant employer impossible to deal with. Especially when she is forced to agree to a marriage of his convenience to pay off the debt her twin accrued.

In a marriage based on blackmail can passion turn into love, or will secrets and lies destroy all?


*****
A TASTE

Marco's knowing gaze met hers in the bathroom mirror, and the heat she saw in his eyes started a slow answering fire deep within her. Awareness sparked between them.

The towel slowly slipped from her fingers. The ice hit the tiled floor with a thud and broke the spell. She almost ran into the other room and frantically tried the other door.

"I have it on good authority that they are fire doors, my lovely, so I'd give up now. I like your shoulders just the way they are, cara mia."

Marco leant against the door frame propped up by his good shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest, a slow smile on his lips. He checked the lock on the bathroom door.

"And I'm pleased to note there isn't a lock on here, lest you decide to go hiding in another bathroom. I seem to recall you were rather fond of that on our honeymoon."

Elise winced, followed by a vivid blush as she remembered their wedding night.

Marco simply smiled. He slowly advanced towards her, and Elise backed away until she bumped into the wall. He reminded her of a predator stalking his prey.

"Marco, we need to talk."

One last long stride brought him so close his thighs touched hers, and he put one hand either side of her head. His big body crowded her against the wall, and his sinful mouth hovered over hers.

"So talk, cara mia. I'm all yours."

His hot breath fanned across her face, and Elise closed her eyes. She bit back a moan when he kissed her nose and rained butterfly kisses along her jaw line. He suckled gently on just the right spot on her neck to make her knees turn to jelly.

"Marco…please…stop…"

Somehow she found the strength to put her shaking hands on his chest, only to meet hot, hard, male flesh. This time she couldn't stop the very feminine moan escaping. Was that needy sound really her?

Apparently so, judging by Marco's low groan in her ear. He moved his hand to cup her breast, the nipple thrusting shamelessly into his caress.

"You don't sound as though you want me to stop, cara mia. In fact, I would hazard a guess that you're wet enough for me to fuck you right here."

The crude words should have shocked Elise, but instead she whimpered in response to his words. He ground his hips suggestively into hers until the full force of his erection rested against her pussy. Heat flooded between her thighs, and she pulled his head down for kiss.

"You're talking too much, Tarzan."

She caught a quick glimpse of triumph in his glittering eyes before his mouth claimed hers. His tongue tangled with hers, and they both groaned. One of his hands fisted in her hair, and the other lifted her skirt. He cupped her mound and murmured his approval.

"You're so fucking wet for me."

He bunched the sodden material of her underwear in his hand and pulled. The move brought delicious pressure to her clit, and Elise panted in excitement. Cool air hit her slick folds when the material gave way with an audible rip. His large hand replaced the fabric, and her pussy clamped down on the fingers he thrust into her channel. His teeth nipped her neck, nudging her arousal up another notch, and he kicked her feet apart to spread her wider. She clung to his shoulders, rubbing her breasts against his chest, and he swore. He thrust two more fingers into her hungry cunt, and she lifted her leg to give him better access. He withdrew his fingers, and Elise tensed when he inserted one slick digit into her anus.

"Relax, pasticcino."

His eyes sought hers, and he smiled. He kissed her, and Elise relaxed into the strange sensation. When he inserted another finger into her tight hole, she gasped into his mouth. He thrust slowly in and out of her, and Elise pulled him closer to her still, as her hips moved of their own accord. Unused nerve endings sprang to life, and darts of pleasure skittered to her clitoris. Her breath came in short gaps, as her arousal built.

"That's my girl. I knew you'd like this." Marco's strained voice in her ear was the sexiest sound she'd ever heard. She pushed down on his fingers, seeking more, and moaned her disappointment when he withdrew them slowly. He grabbed her buttocks and ground her aching clit into his still covered cock. He thrust into her, and the friction on her throbbing bud proved too much for Elise.

"Please, Marco."

"What, cara mia?"

Marco pulled away, and she groaned.

"What do you want, my wife?"

The heat in his ever darkening gaze stoked her arousal to fever pitch, and she impatiently tugged at his trousers.

"I want you in me, now, Marco."

His eyes darkened further at her whispered plea, and she breathed a sigh of relief when his hands helped her free his cock. It sprung out of its confines up to his taut stomach, and Elise licked her lips in anticipation. She cupped his balls, and it was Marco's turn to groan.

"Jesus, woman, you're killing me."

He pushed her hands away, and Elise arched into his palms, when he pulled down her tank top and exposed her breasts. He kneaded each aching globe, before he pushed them together and laved the nipples in turn. Every suckle sent shards of pure pleasure down towards Elise's clit where delicious anticipation built in waves. She moaned her protest when Marco released the glistening buds and kissed his way back up to her collarbone. She could feel his strained smile before she saw it.

"Wrap your legs around me. I need to get inside you right now."
*****


Too Cold to Love is also at Amazon, Bookstrand, and All Romance!


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Doris O'Connor's "Riding Her Tiger"

We're pleased to have Evernight's own Doris O'Connor with us here today! Got heaps of respect for her and all she does, both on an off the page. Today she is talking with us about Inspiration...

Sometimes Inspiration comes along out nowhere and hits you straight in the gut, and before you know it you're writing a story you had no intention of writing the day before. That is pretty much what happened with Riding Her Tiger.

There I was minding my own business, looking forward to some much needed R&R after completing edits on another story, and I read these two words: Keyboards and Kink. It was a new submission call by my publisher Evernight for a cyber-anthology and my muse sat up and went, "Ooohhhh!"

I swear she did. I could almost see her jumping up and down like a demented rabbit in front of my eyes. I was really tired that day—teething baby, need I say more—but did that muse listen? Of course not. At the end of that very long day, I sat down to write, and before I knew it I had the first chapter. The next day found the second chapter and with it the realization that my simple BDSM short story was not going to be that simple, and would not make it into the anthology after all. My hero announced he was in fact a tiger shifter, and there was to be a ménage, but not the one I originally envisaged. Interesting second characters popped up all over the place, and the Club Ink Series was born…

*shakes head at her muse*

I leave you with a little hot excerpt.

RIDING HER TIGER
Can one night change your life forever?

Estelle has been lusting after her kinky boss Nathan for ages, but how you do you snare a much older Dom? You enlist the help of the internet.

Matched to exploration facilitator Ink, Estelle explores her submissive fantasies to the full. When online sex turns to a real life ménage will a case of mistaken identity ruin her chances with Nathan?

Or will the shifter claim his mate?

*****
A TASTE
"Lean back against me, and relax. Nothing is going to happen, yet." Her stomach tightened at the growled words into her neck, and she watched as he grabbed the huge sponge by the side of the bath and proceeded to run it up and down her arms slowly. He washed every inch of her body with great care. Her breasts grew heavy and her breathing shallow, her nipples jutting out into the humid air of the bathroom, and he smiled into her neck. By the time his hands reached her pussy she was so aroused the slightest scrape of the sponge against her labia sent her tumbling into an orgasm.

Ink groaned into her neck, and she froze. Shiiit! He hadn't given her permission to come.

"Ah, sweetheart, that was fucking hot, but not very wise." Her eyes flew open at Grisha's husky words, and her mouth went dry. "We'll have to think of a suitable punishment, Ink." The Russian was stark naked, his huge swollen cock jutting up out of its nest of thick, black hair, to his tight abdomen, the tip glistening with drops of pre-cum. She hadn't been able to fully appreciate the sheer size of him before, and she licked her lips. He smiled at her and fisted himself with slow, measured strokes. Her cunt clenched, and her insides tightened, recalling his earlier promise. She was never going to be able take him in her ass.

As if Ink had heard her thoughts, his hands spread her ass cheeks, and his fingers probed. She bit her lip at the invasion of two and then three long fingers.

"Indeed we will, Grisha." She squirmed as he thrust his fingers in and out of her tight hole. He pinched her clit with his other hand, and Estelle moaned as the pain zinged along her pussy, to join with the sensations spreading from her ass. She whimpered when he released the tight nub of nerves only to repeat the action, again, and again. Her labia swelled and throbbed, and she writhed in the water, dimly aware of Grisha joining them in the bath. He knelt in front of her, and his hands grabbed her hips, holding her still.

"Stop moving, and take your punishment like a good little sub, sweetheart." He smiled when she went still, and Estelle bit her lip to stop herself from moaning. She watched as he leaned forward and took one of her nipples in his mouth. He bit down hard, and tears sprang into Estelle's eyes. He soothed the sting with his tongue and then repeated the action to the other nipple. Ink pinched her clit in time to Grisha's bites, his fingers in her ass pushing deeper and deeper, until Estelle couldn't distinguish between the waves of pain swamping her. Pain that morphed into something else entirely. Unable to keep her eyes open, she let her head fall back onto Ink's shoulder. Her body felt lighter, every nerve-ending on fire, sending pulses of heat through her veins, Ink's murmured encouragements in her ear grounding her in the here and now.

Her skin tightened, and her clit throbbed in time with the waves rushing through her. She shuddered when cool air hit her wet flesh, before she encountered smooth leather. Ink pushed her down until her breasts were flattened against the padded bench, and she gasped as her legs and arms were fastened. Before she could panic at being restrained to the spanking bench, Grisha's face was in front of her.

"Focus, sweetheart, on me. Breathe with me, and count the strokes." He looked behind her, and Ink's warm hands massaged her butt cheeks.

"She really has a fantastic ass, Grisha. She'll look hot as sin when it's nice and pink from our hands." Ink's voice send tingles of awareness through her, and her panic subsided. His hand dipped lower and spread her pussy lips. He bit her ass, and she squirmed when his fingers sank deep into her already weeping channel. He curled them into a figure of eight, and Estelle panted her excitement as her sensitized tissues responded instantly.

She closed her eyes against the knowing smirk on Grisha's face.

"How is she doing, Ink? Though I bet she's wet for us."

Estelle screwed her eyes shut tighter at Ink's chuckled confirmation.

"Now remember, Estelle, no coming until I give you permission, or you'll be strapped to this thing for a very long time indeed." Ink's voice had lost its amusement, and Estelle breathed her confirmation.

"Good girl, sweetheart, you can do it." Grisha brushed a kiss across her lips. "Now count."

The first slap took her by surprise, and she screeched.

"Count, Estelle." Ink's voice brooked no argument.

"O…one." She bit back tears and barely caught her breath before the next slap came. "Two." Slap. "Three…"

Grisha's hands massaged her shoulders. He murmured Russian words she didn't understand, the warmth of his hands chasing away the goose bumps spreading over her body. Her butt on fire, the strange floating sensations returned. Her pussy clenched with each slap of Ink's hand across her ass until all of her senses heightened. Every trickle of her arousal down her legs left a wave of fire in its wake, sensations too intense to name consuming her. Her body climbed, tensing, clenching, clamoring for the tension within to burst to freedom.

With one last slap hard enough to send her body forward along the bench as far as the restraints would allow, Estelle breathed, "Fifteen."

"Good girl, you did so well." She hardly heard Grisha over the rushing in her ears, her heart beating so loudly, she felt sick. She winced at the coolness placed over her burning ass, and when her restraints were removed she collapsed into Ink's arms.
*****

Now that I've got you all hot and bothered…

*grins*

If you would like to win a copy of Riding Her Tiger, leave a comment! Many thanks to Adonis Devereux for letting me crash here today. 


Riding Her Tiger is also available on Bookstrand, All Romance Ebooks, and Amazon!

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