New Release: Smut Alfresco

As this post goes live, I’m in London at the Eroticon conference, woohoo! Exciting times.

However, this post is not about my hi-jinks. It’s about the release of Smut Alfresco: Tales of Outdoor Adventure, which I co-edited with Victoria Blisse. All the details are below:

Sex in the great outdoors is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the dramatic gritstone escarpments of Derbyshire’s Peak District, to a quiet caravan site in deepest Wales, Smut Alfresco has it all. Whatever your interpretation of frisky outdoor fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you.

Sexy woodsmen, daring couples, rock stars, cougars, map enthusiasts, mattresses, ex-lovers, tour guides, hunky sheriffs and nature reserve rangers all appear in this hot collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Includes stories from: Violet Fields, Demelza Hart, Victoria Blisse, Jacqueline Brocker, Wendi Zwaduk, K T Red, Tilly Hunter, Bel Anderson, Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Tenille Brown, Cass Peterson, Jenny Lyn and Nicole Gestalt.

And here’s a short excerpt from my story:

Violet slammed down the lid of her laptop with far more force than was necessary. She flinched, thinking perhaps she might have cracked the screen or broken one of the machine’s internal components. Then she shrugged, realising she didn’t care if she had. It was her work’s computer, after all, not hers. If it was fucked, they’d have to replace it. And it would serve them right, too. Bastards.

The reason she was pissed off was the fact she was in work at all. It was Saturday, and the previous afternoon her useless boss had dumped a project on her, stating it had to be finished by Monday, no matter how long it took. He’d then added that he was going away for the weekend, meaning it was all down to her. The selfish, disorganised wanker. It wouldn’t be so bad, but she hadn’t had a pay rise for two years, and when she went above and beyond for her job, she didn’t get so much as a thank you, let alone be paid any overtime. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, either.

Well, fuck them. She wasn’t going to be a doormat—or her boss’ scapegoat—any more. Let them try and sack her—she wasn’t doing anything remotely wrong, and they couldn’t make her working life any more hellish than it already was.

She stood up sharply, sending her swivel chair careening backwards across the room until it hit the wall. She shrugged again, she still didn’t care. Let it chip the fucking paintwork, or a bust a hole in the plasterboard. No one else was there, so nobody could prove or disprove that it had been an accident.

Pausing to switch the lights off—she was pissed off at her employers, not the environment—she left the offices, setting the alarm before closing the door behind her. Stuffing her access swipe card into her handbag, she heaved a sigh of relief. There would probably be hell to pay for her stunt on Monday, but she’d worry about that then. Right now, she was just desperate to get out. Into the countryside, or, given she was in central London, to a green space, at the very least.

From where she worked, Green Park was probably the closest, but she figured Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens were bigger, so she’d be more likely to find a secluded spot where she could just be by herself. The last thing she needed now was to have to deal with other people.

Want your copy? Buy links are here, with more being added as they become available.

Also, some of the authors will be stopping by over the next few weeks, dishing the dirt on the inspiration for their stories. Watch this space.

New Release: Tangled & Bound By Emily Ryan-Davis

Tangled and BoundTANGLED & BOUND

EMILY RYAN-DAVIS

Available from:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
BN
All Romance Ebooks
Kobo
Ellora’s Cave

A Taken in Bondage Erotic Romance

Friendly, adventurous, sexually submissive…and a complete stranger. She’s exactly the anonymous, no-consequences diversion fetish-club owner Sam needs to kick off a few days in Las Vegas. He doesn’t hesitate to take her up against the door of the in-flight bathroom.

Powerful, dominant Sam could have walked straight out of one of Melanie’s dog-eared BDSM novels. When he strikes up a conversation on a late-evening flight, fictional fantasies become knee-weakening, panty-soaking, feminine-core-clenching reality. And oh-em-gee, does she want another taste of that!

When Sam informs her that his plans don’t include a long-term D/s relationship with an impulsive young blonde for whom submission is more than likely a passing whim, Melanie throws herself into convincing him she’s exactly the submissive lover he wants, needs and can’t live without.

*****

Excerpt:

Chapter One

August

Halfway into her non-stop flight from New York to Las Vegas, Melanie Burke started to squirm.  Her restlessness had nothing to do with her tiny middle-of-the-row seat and everything to do with the muscular, denim-clad thigh touching her bare leg.

The thigh belonged to a man she’d noticed hours earlier while waiting to board. In a sea of people wearing jeans and t-shirts, he’d stood out, and not because of his scuffed cowboy boots and oversized belt buckle. Well, not only because of those. While the whole Texas horse wrangler look was out of place in LaGuardia, he certainly wasn’t the only man doing the Western thing. He was the only one doing it well, though.

The nice ass and hand-tooled boots weren’t what had her snapping a surreptitious pic and forwarding it to her BFF, Brooke, who was a self-proclaimed expert in all things BDSM. Something else was.

Something about him declared, “I’m in charge”. Ever since she’d gotten wet while reading a BDSM-themed novel earlier in the year, Melanie had become a sneaky people-watcher, looking for the whole “in charge” vibe Dominant men apparently put off. When she’d despaired ever finding her Dom, Brooke had advised her to chill and wait. According to Brooke, Melanie would just know. She was on the verge of giving up and going back to her normal sex routine of grad students and bar crawlers, but then she saw him.

During boarding call, she’d covertly watched the way he stood apart from the crowd even while standing in the middle of it. Her attraction to him was inexplicable. The cowboy look really wasn’t to her taste. She went for guys with more of a GQ look. He didn’t exude sophisticated power like the heroes of her dog-eared novels, either, but he did take her breath away. Some part of her she was just discovering wanted to kneel at his feet and gaze up into his eyes from below.

When she reached her assigned seat on the plane, she was both startled and thrilled by the coincidence that booked him in the seat next to hers. Now, as she turned the page of her book, a “mommy porn” title on every national bestseller list, she snuck a peek at her in-flight neighbor’s face.

Pale, grass-green eyes met hers. Caught in the act of looking, startled by the fact she’d caught him in the act, too, she quickly shifted her focus back to the book spread across her fold-down tray.

“Good book?” Her neighbor’s voice wrapped around her, warm in the too-cold cabin. She pressed her thighs together as her simmering arousal cranked up a notch.

“Most of the world seems to like it.” She glanced up to find him still watching her. This time she was prepared for the intensity of his examination and managed to maintain eye contact. She even did a little looking of her own, mostly in the form of a closer inspection of his dark-blond evening stubble and full lips. Those lips quirked while she studied them. They would be fantastic between her legs.

As if he had access to her little fantasy, his smile widened.

“I’m not interested in most of the world. Do you like it?” He reached over, closed the book, and turned it so the front cover showed. “Who would’ve thought a simple neck tie would become so iconic?”

“It’s a very striking cover,” Melanie agreed. But totally disinteresting to her now. As far as visuals went, he had all her attention. His shoulders dominated the narrow seat. She seriously wanted to climb astride his lap and put her hands on him. Maybe rub up against that big belt buckle. And she wanted to beg him to keep talking. The Midwest meets New York accent was weirdly fascinating.

“The question still remains whether you’re enjoying the read.”

“It’s crazy popular–“

“Yes or no?” He interrupted.

Heat flashed through her. Blinking rapidly at her body’s response to his demanding inquiry, she managed to say, “I’m not sure.”

“There’s a simple way to tell.” He leaned close and spoke directly into her ear. “If you’re wet right now, you’re enjoying the book. “

The powerful confidence of his voice stirred something low in her abdomen. She was wet before his lips brushed her ear. Now she felt soaked.

“Answer me, honey.” He touched her chin and tilted her head at a slight angle. Callused fingertips settled on a spot just below her jaw. “Your heart’s racing, but I don’t think you’re scared. I think that book has you so hot, you’re dying to slip your hand into your panties.”

*****

More Information:

Other Taken in Bondage Series Titles Available Now

Tied & Twisted

Naked & Unleashed

Want more like this? Join Emily Ryan-Davis’s newsletter today for access to subscriber exclusives, contests, new release news and more. To subscribe, go to http://www.emilyryandavis.com and click the “Contact” tab.

New Release: Lakeland Heatwave Book 3: Elemental Fire by K D Grace

Elemental FireLAKELAND HEATWAVE BOOK 3: ELEMENTAL FIRE

K D GRACE

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

More buy links added here as they become available: http://kdgrace.co.uk/books/lakeland-heatwave-book-3-elemental-fire/

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

*****

Excerpt:

The demon, Lucia, studied Kennet for what might have been ages, and he felt as though the pressure of her scrutiny would crush him.

‘I have never worn man flesh.’ She nodded down to his penis.

He blushed and surged and blushed again. His heart raced. ‘Does it make a difference?’

She shrugged, still studying his cock as though she’d never seen one before. ‘Not really. Flesh is flesh.’ On a whim, she reached out and stroked his erection, and he gasped as the touch of her shivered up his spine and blossomed bright inside his head.

She continued to touch him, but her eyes were now locked on his face, and he tried desperately not to thrust against her. ‘I am only touching your cock, Kennet Birch, and it is all you can do to keep from spilling your seed at my feet.’

‘That is the most sensitive part,’ he breathed. ‘Of a man, I mean.’

She moved closer and ran a splayed hand up over his ribs. And he did spill his seed with a desperate gasp as though he could never get enough oxygen again. And he was embarrassed and terrified and angry, and it was as though the whole range of emotions exploded in his head in an instant. Then she leaned in and brushed her lips against his, and for a split second the world flashed before his eyes more vivid, more perfect, more complete than he had ever seen it before. He knew things, he saw things, he felt things, things beyond him. And he would have dropped again to his knees, but he couldn’t, not held in her gaze as he was.

‘I have barely touched you and you are overwhelmed, Kennet Birch. Do you really think you can survive my possession of you?’

He forced himself to hold her gaze, trembling suddenly as though he were in the grips of some powerful illness. All of him ached, and he knew the real world was bleeding through. There was very little time. ‘I won’t survive if you don’t possess me. My coming to you has guaranteed that.’ He wrapped his arms around himself as the shakes became more violent. ‘You said it yourself, I have nothing to lose.’

‘And why would I want a sick and broken male body?’ She asked. Her eyes blazed in the dance of firelight that always seemed so close to her.

‘If you possess me, you can heal me,’ he said. ‘And anyway, if you possess me and I die, well it really doesn’t matter at this point.’

For an eternal moment she studied him. She studied him until he looked away. His head was fuzzy, his body ached even in the dream world. He couldn’t hold much longer.

She lifted his chin once again so that he met her gaze, and the shakes stopped. The pain went away. He felt his head clear.

‘If I do what you ask of me, even though you live, your life is forfeit. You know this?’

‘I know,’ he breathed. ‘It doesn’t matter.

‘You say that now in your hour of need. But when that passes, when you are whole and stronger and healthier than you have ever dreamed possible, when your heart heals and you learn to love again, you won’t be so anxious to let go of what is rightfully mine when the time comes.’

He suddenly felt more pain than he knew existed in the whole world, and none of it was physical. He inhaled breath that felt like shards of stone. ‘I’ll never know love again. I’ll never know life again, so there’s really nothing you can take from me that isn’t already long gone.’

Her gaze softened, and somehow he found that infinitely comforting. Then she moved closer and kissed him, slowly, languidly, as though they had all the time in the world, and his cock was hard again. She stepped back from him. One shrug and the robe of fire fell away, and the glow of her body flashed bright, then dimmed and steadied until he could see details, erect nipples atop high breasts, rounded hips, a golden splash of curls at the juncture of her thighs. ‘I am not like him,’ she said softly. ‘It gives me no pleasure to make those who dwell in the flesh my puppets. You will be, how is it you put it these days, you will be in the driver’s seat.’ She took him into her arms and kissed him hard, and when he feared he would disgrace himself again with his cock pressed up tight against the top of her belly, she pulled away. ‘However,’ she said. ‘If I grant your request, then I will possess you. All of you. You will belong to me, your life will mine.’ She gaze was painfully bright. ‘And if you earnestly wish to be rid of Deacon, then you will do as I say for as long as it takes us to accomplish our task, and it will take time. I know him. You don’t. I’m his equal. You’re not. And one more very important thing, Kennet Birch.’ She stroked his hair gently and whispered against his lips. ‘Never, never forget how badly I can hurt you if you defy me.’ Then she guided his hand down over her pubic curls. ‘If my terms are not acceptable to you, then you must return to your body and face your fate.’

Boldly, brazenly, he slid a finger down low and circled her clit, and her eyes fluttered. ‘If it weren’t acceptable to me, I wouldn’t be here,’ he answered.

She took his hand and guided him back to a chair that appeared from out of nowhere. It looked like a golden throne with no arms. What? Was he to petition her? He didn’t understand. But it was no throne at all. She pushed him down on it and stood before him caressing her breasts until her nipples were stiff and swollen. Then she raised one perfect leg and set her elegant Botticelli foot on his thigh, affording him a view of her wet and fiery depths. ‘I do not enter through your breath, Kennet Birch,’ she said. ‘As sex is your magic, so is it mine. You will go in through me, inside out. And your hunger for me will pull me into you when your libido surges brightest.’

And he was so hungry for her. She filled his head and his body with an aching want that even if he were not a practitioner of sex magic, he would understand was not mundane. And in his case, the fear that he would die if he didn’t have her here and now was a very real one. That he might die even if he did, that her possession might be too much for him, well that was a risk he was more than willing to take.

‘Are you certain this is what you want, Kennet Birch?’ she asked him as she moved onto his lap, positioning herself, opening her sex with her fingers.

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’ Even as he said it, he realized how silly that sounded, since either way his life as he’d known it was over.

‘Very well then.’ She settled to the point of contact, to the point at which he could just feel the head of his penis against the resistance of her opening. He reached for her breasts, and with the hand not busy between her legs, she cradled his head and drew him near so he could nurse. The electrical shock through his body caused him to jump and jerk, and at that very instant she settled onto him, sheathing him tightly, deeply, and he knew he was dying. This was the point of no return. It was as though the tight wet pull of her swallowed him whole. Then she cupped his chin and held his face again so he couldn’t look away from her shining eyes. Her voice was like warm honey, thick and sweet, and he felt the sound of it in his very marrow, in his very soul. ‘You are mine, Kennet Birch. No longer are you your own. I possess you, body, soul and life force. Even in name you are now mine, Kennet Lucian. You are mine until I have no further use for you, until I have used you up.’ She gripped him hard and he exploded inside her and the world blew a part into tiny particles and disappeared like flecks of dust in the darkness.

****

‘Bloody Hell! Dr Allen! Doctor Allen! Get over here. Now!’

Kennet inhaled delicious, abundant air as though he’d just remembered how to breathe. Then he fought his way up from under an unruly sheet to sit up on the bed. A woman and a man in hospital scrubs stood either side of him, holding him, and there was chaos and someone was yelling. It took him a second to register that it was him yelling over and over again, ‘Where the hell am I? Where the hell am I?’ And then the bright lights, the gurney with a body shrouded in a sheet next to him all came into focus. ‘Jesus! What the fuck am I doing in the morgue?’

The woman in scrubs standing next to him looked pale and her hands were unsteady. ‘Mr. Birch,’ she said, doing her best to stay calm. ‘You were pronounced dead almost fifteen minutes ago.’

*****

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, books one and two of her Executive Decisions Trilogy are now available.

Find K D Here:                                                                  

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/

http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf: Mirabella’s Mardi Gras Ménage by Louisa Bacio

Mardi Gras MenageConstantly under the watchful eye of her Voodoo priestess aunt, Mirabella longs to break free during the events of Mardi Gras. Escapades draw her into the arms of Marguerite, a fiery redhead with a passion for life, and Nick, a familiar vampire who’s haunted by his transformation and past.

What starts as a new experience – a Mardi Gras Ménage – soon turns deadly, and none of their lives will ever be the same.

Available from:
Ravenous Romance
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble

And all other good eBook retailers.

*****

Excerpt:

“What are you doing living here?” she asked.

He’d asked himself that question many times over in the past few months. Nick had been used to living with others for all of his life. Being alone was quite different.

“After Silver and I broke up, it didn’t feel right to keep living with Lawrence, Trevor, and Lily,” he explained.

She nodded, her eyes clearing as more time passed. “I can understand that, but I’m surprised Lawrence let you go.”

“As my sire, he can pretty much watch me wherever I’m living. I’m sure if I were to go off the deep end, he’d get some type of psychic notice,” Nick explained. “It’s strange. It feels like I don’t have privacy at times, and at others I’m totally alone.”

She cocked her head to the side, studying him. Over the past two years of knowing Mirabella, Nick didn’t quite know what to think of her. She’d always been in the presence of her aunt, who was quite overpowering. Mentally, it was hard to separate memories of the two of them. The one time he had rescued her with Trevor, Mirabella had been totally passed out—under the influence of some other type of drug, or spell, or supernatural creature. In other words, she’d definitely not been herself.

“So how come we keep meeting this way?” Nick teased. “You always seem to be running into trouble.”

“Let’s just say I’m not very street smart,” she said. “Tante Teresa has kept me isolated a bit too much. Don’t know how to make it on my own in such large crowds, but I’m starting to feel like I need to escape the prison of her watchful eye.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a way to experience it,” Nick said. “It’s not full Mardi Gras yet, but these crowds building up to those events are almost as bad. You have to be careful on the streets.”

“I’m learning that. It’s a much different world to be out there than in the store.”

“I can’t believe Teresa let you out either. She’s gotta know what it’s like out there.”

A flush brightened Mirabella’s cheeks, and Nick thought about how gorgeous she looked in his bed, the contrast of her darker skin tone to the pale blue sheets. With all the mixed-breed genetics in New Orleans, both of them looked to be of Creole heritage. True, his coloring was a bit more pale now that he was dead and all. Mirabella’s skin shimmered in the moonlight.

“I might have slipped out while she slept,” she admitted. “The lure of the music drew me out, and I wanted to see what it was like.”

Nick was experiencing a lure all of his own. Her luscious lips drew him in. She caught him watching her, and she licked a droplet of water off her bottom lip. He sat on the edge of the bed, and she leaned toward him, her eyes half-mast.

Her breath smelled sweet, like fresh almonds mixed with vanilla. He shouldn’t kiss her. She was too young and too naïve. But while his head told him to step away, his desire took over, craving the physical connection.

At this moment, though, with her ensconced within his bed, the physical possibilities loomed endless. No one knew she was here. They could do whatever they desired.

Softly, his lips brushed against hers. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck, drawing her in closer and holding her steady. He probed her mouth with his tongue, requesting entrance, and she more than willingly opened beneath him.

She sighed against his mouth. Warmth. Vitality. Life.

All the traits a beautiful young woman possessed and a vampire like him lacked.

“I’d better take you home,” he said, giving one last effort to be a gentleman.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

“I’m trying to do what’s best here,” he said. He made a move to get off the bed, and she followed him, her body curling into his. Her warmth enveloping him.

“Best for whom? Not you or me,” she said. “I want more of your kisses.”

 

*****

roadkilldress_webBio:

Louisa Bacio is the author of six erotic novels, including the paranormal series The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf, the 1Night Stand A Date with Death and numerous steamy short stories.

Bacio enjoys soaking up the sun in Southern California, and spending time with her family. In addition to writing and editing, Bacio teaches college courses in English, journalism, film studies and popular culture.

Drop in for a visit:

http://louisabacio.blogspot.com
http://www.louisabacio.com
http://www.facebook.com/louisabacio
http://www.twitter.com/louisabacio

*****

Mardi Gras Prize Package (ends 2/28/2013)

MirabellaPrizePackage

Mardi Gras package includes Kitchen Witch spices, beads, fleur di lis cookie cutter, mask, etouffee mix. Shipping to the U.S. Value is worth $20 + the cost of shipping. I reserve the right to substitute the prize in case product is not available. If the winner is international, they can choose a $15 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

New Release: Kinky Boots by K D Grace

Kinky BootsKINKY BOOTS

K D GRACE

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

More links will be added here as they become available:

http://kdgrace.co.uk/books/kinky-boots/

After a sizzling encounter in DEMON HEELS, a quirky all-night shoe store, with the store’s hot owner, FINN MASTERS, JILL HART walks away in the most gorgeous boots ever. Her new boots come with an unexpected bonus, a sexy demon named ELEANOR, who’s looking for a good time. All she lacks is a body, and Jill’s will do nicely.

Jill quits her dead-end job and, not knowing what’s come over her stops by the nearest pub intent on doing tequila shots until she falls off the stool. Instead she does FINN MASTERS in the beer garden, unwittingly participating in her first ever threesome. The boots were the bait, the timing was right and Eleanor has new digs. It’s Finn job to prevent Eleanor’s misbehaving. His failure means he’ll have to ride shotgun and do damage control until Eleanor moves out at the next full moon.

With Eleanor in residence, Jill’s bolder, sexier, willing to take risks. But is she a whole new Jill, or is it just demon courage? And how will Finn feel about her when she’s just plain Jill again? Will the maddeningly magical ménage make Jill’s dreams come true, or will it break her heart?

*****

Excerpt:

There was a soft knock on the door and Meinrad entered the room with several hanks of what looked like ordinary rope. He nodded his greeting to Finn, then his gaze came to rest on Jill, and she felt her entire body blush at his inspection. ‘Turn around,’ he said.

She obeyed.

He made some sound low in his throat that could have passed as either approval or not. Then he placed a large hand on her shoulder and turned her back to face him. She noticed he wore the Kinky Boots uniform T-shirt stretched tight across his very broad chest. The shop name was punctuated by the hard pressure of nipples on muscular pecs. The black jeans he wore rode low on his hips. The wave of lust that rushed over her was staggering. How had she not noticed how sexy he was?

Then Finn moved to stand beside him, and she understood. Even though Meinrad was by far the larger man, Finn dominated the room. Finn dominated the space. Finn dominated every second of the last twenty-four hours of her life, as though he had shoved his way in and pushed everything else out. It did things to her, that thought, things that were way beyond lust, things that were a lot more frightening than being possessed by a demon.

He stood gazing down at her from some neutral distance that made her feel very much alone, as though the world and everyone in it had receded, leaving her to await her fate. Eleanor was keeping a low profile. Finn spoke without preamble. ‘Unless something’s hurting you, while Meinrad’s binding you, you’re not to speak. You’re only to move when he moves you. You’re to do exactly as he says. You’re to accept what he does to you in total passivity. Is that clear?’

‘Is he going to fuck me?’ She was embarrassed the minute she said it but it was too late to take it back.

‘If I want him to, yes,’ Finn said.

If Finn wanted him to. Dear God, what was she doing? Suddenly she felt unsteady on her feet. She didn’t know Meinrad. Not like she knew Finn. And yet the thought of the big man hammering her with his enormous cock while she was all trussed up was at least as exciting as it was uncomfortable. The thought that he would do so only at Finn’s bidding excited her even more.

‘There’ll be no safe word,’ Finn continued. ‘All you have to do is tell Meinrad to stop. Or if at any time he thinks you’re not fit to continue, he’ll stop, and that’ll be that. Are we clear?’

She nodded. ‘And what about you?’

‘Meinrad’s acting on my behalf.’ Finn held her in a cool gaze. ‘He’ll do as I say, and so will you, unless you choose at any point not to play.’ For a long moment he studied her, as though he might see something, perhaps some flaw, perhaps some weakness, she didn’t know what. He seemed too far away to tell. She held her breath. Waiting.

At last he blinked and stepped back, still holding her gaze. ‘I’ll ask you again, Jill. Are you sure this is what you want?’

She nodded, afraid to speak for fear her heart would jump out of her throat. Then she remembered to breathe again.

Finn said nothing. He took her hands in his and offered them to Meinrad, who took both her wrists in one huge palm and tied them across one another in a simple looped knot from which she could have easily escaped if she’d wanted. Then he led her to the bed and guided her onto it. There, he secured her hands to the headboard with several feet of slack, enough to allow him to work around her and at the same time allow Finn to observe from every angle. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed Finn had pulled a ladder back chair to the side of the bed and sat emotionlessly looking on. A quick glance was all she got before Meinrad settled her into a kneeling position facing the wall with her hands resting on the headboard.

In the beginning, it felt as though she were being decorated with rope; that’s the best way Jill could describe what Meinrad was doing to her. The rope was softer than she expected it to be and not unpleasant against her bare skin. The embarrassment she felt came, flashed hot, then passed as Meinrad looped the rope and efficiently placed knots above her breasts and then below and then tightened and cinched his efforts until the harnessing effect squeezed and pinched and offered up each of her breasts in a tight little nest of rope, like ripe fruit topped by the cherry-hard rise of her nipples. She’d always had sensitive breasts and to have them so handled and bound made her whole chest burn with a need that was replicated in her pussy.

Meinrad worked in complete silence, his hands moving over her body as though she were nothing more than the canvas for what he was creating. His touch was exacting and his rhythm as he worked was hypnotic. Early on she realised that one of his hands was on her at all times. She remembered basic knot training from her childhood days in the Girl Guides. Right over left and under and through. Left over right and under and through. Rope threaded through competent fingers, rope slid over bare skin, coiling, twisting, binding, descending right over left and left over right, pressing a column of knots down the length of her spine before looping around her waist and embracing her belly. Again. And again. Yes, she was his canvas, and what he created took its shape against her flesh, but his art didn’t happen without exacting a price from him, and in her peripheral vision, as he reached around her to secure a knot over her navel, she caught a glimpse of the erection set tight in his black jeans, and she felt the hitch of his breathing not quite hidden in the rhythm of right over left, left over right. As he crossed the ropes around her body, she felt the heat of his breath whisper along her back next to the weaving and twisting and soft swishing of the rope along her spine.

With a tug of the rope every pore of her body responded to the tightening just as he nestled a knot against the pucker of her bottom and her gasp sounded like a rush of wind in the stretching silence. Meinrad gave a little pull and her clit hardened in empathy with the pressure between her buttocks. Then without warning, he slipped an arm around her and turned her over as he pulled two strands of rope up between her legs, up tight against her upper thighs like the elastic of knickers, or a tightly cinched climber’s harness. That done, with a deft movement of his fingers he secured a knot just over her clit, and this time she cried out in the strange mix of discomfort and arousal. The whole gape of her was pressed between the two strands of rope, knotted at fore and aft like a ship, narrow and thick-hulled.

There was barely time to get used to the strange rub and pressure between her legs, or the knot that felt like the tip of a thick finger attempting to breach her bottom, before Meinrad began to bind her thighs to her lower legs and ankles, making the position in which she knelt mandatory. With each knot, with each looping of the rope, he forced her bent legs further apart until she was wide open, yet at the same time held closed by the ropes between her legs. Bound and kneeling on the bed, she tried to breathe deeply, tried to fight back the panic of her own helplessness, something she had never experienced before. She was dangerously close to hyperventilating, and Eleanor seemed to be completely absent from the whole event.

‘Shall I continue?’ Meinrad asked.

*****

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Book two, Riding the Ether, is now available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall.

http://kdgrace.co.uk
http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor
http://www.twitter.com/KD_Grace

New Releases: Loose Ends and The Military Wife

Loose EndsThree releases in two days – phew! You may recognise the title Loose Ends, because this erotic romance short story is actually a re-release. I got the rights back from its original publisher, and Resplendence Publishing has now released it again as part of their Erotic Gems line.

Here’s the blurb:

When Jonathan and Lauren met at University, it should have been the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Sadly, it wasn’t to be, and Jonathan became ‘the one that got away.’ Years later, at a University reunion, Jonathan shows up unexpectedly throwing Lauren into turmoil. The pair start talking, and soon all the old feelings come back. But will this time be different, or will their mutual affection continue to be unrequited?

And here’s an excerpt:

When Kat had called to tell me about the five-year University reunion, my reaction had been, “So?”

“Whaddya mean, so? You have to come! It’ll be a laugh. We’ll be able to find out how everyone’s getting on, what they’ve done with their lives and stuff.”

“Why do you want to know how everyone’s getting on? You’ve never bothered before and nor have I. I’ve only ever kept in touch with you and Alex, and there’s a bloody good reason for that.”

“Stop being such a stick in the mud! Come on, not everyone was that bad. There might be some interesting stories to hear. Somebody could be rich or famous. Or both!”

I stopped resisting. When Kat had a plan, it was futile to object.

So there I was with Kat and Alex, heading into the Student Union bar. I pushed open the double doors. It was as if we’d walked into some kind of time warp. The bar itself looked almost the same, a lick of paint here and there, but nothing major. As for the people, they seemed to have changed even less. Sure, they were better dressed (well, some of them were) and a little older, but everyone was the same.

The loner was still loitering at the very end of the bar, not engaging with anyone. The geeks had gravitated toward one another. The popular kids were strutting their stuff, their conversation no doubt as mindless and dull as it had always been. Kat, Alex and I were still hanging around together.

Nobody seemed to have brought partners. I hadn’t actually seen any information regarding the event. My intel had all come from Kat, so maybe partners weren’t invited. Or perhaps everyone just wanted to come alone and re-enact their young, free and single days.

Either way, it was going to be a looong night. I headed for the bar with Kat and Alex close behind.

“What’ll it be?” asked the barman, who looked to be a current student earning some extra cash. I suddenly felt old, despite not looking that much older than him.

“Make mine a vodka and Coke, no ice, please.”

As I turned to the girls to find out what they wanted, I saw the class busybody walking toward us. She smiled and waved.

“Better make that a double,” I amended. Then under my breath, “I think I’m gonna need it.”

Soon I remembered why I hadn’t been up for this in the first place. The busybody was driving me up the wall. My face and neck hurt from all the smiling and nodding. Jenny, or whatever her name was, was currently on maternity leave from her (wonderful) job. Her “perfect” husband had stayed home to look after their “delightful” children so she could come to the reunion and see how everyone was getting on. Despite this statement, she hadn’t asked any of us a single question. She was too busy talking about herself.

I zoned out of Jenny’s inane chatter and stared into the middle distance. Suddenly, something moved into my line of sight that snapped me back into the land of the living. Or should I say someone.

“Fuck!” I exclaimed, gaining a disapproving look from Mrs. Busybody and puzzled ones from the girls.

“He’s fucking here!”

Grab your copy of Loose Ends here.

Add Loose Ends to Goodreads here.

Also, a title I signed a contract for before Christmas is now hitting retail shelves. The Military Wife is a collection of three erotic romance stories, which is published by House of Erotica.

Here’s the blurb:

The Military WifeThree hot and romantic military tales from the pen of uniform aficionado, Lucy Felthouse.

The Military Wife
Tess’ salacious fantasies about her husband, Aidan, see her through the long periods of time when she doesn’t see him—when he’s away on tour with the Army. The rest of the time, she has to deal with day to day life alone. One day, a dull chore is interrupted by the unexpected arrival of her husband, and things quickly hot up in their kitchen, and beyond.

Passing Out Passion
When Christina attends her brother’s passing out parade with her parents, she’s full of pride at his achievement. What she’s not expecting, though, is to bump into old flame Phil Ashdown. They didn’t part on good terms and the atmosphere between them is awkward. But when they’re forced into conversation, it turns out that all those years ago, there was a misunderstanding. One that can very easily be put right.

Double Vision
Becky’s a military wife with a uniform fetish. She loves nothing more than having fun in the bedroom with her squaddie husband, where they share and act out many of their fantasies. However, there’s one fantasy that she’s never divulged, as it breaks their rule about bring other people into their sex life. One day, though, Becky decides to bite the bullet and tell Paul everything. She never expects him to make her fantasy come true. But then, Paul’s a very resourceful man.

And an excerpt: 

Tess grumbled to herself as she heaved the shopping bags out of the boot of her car. It was a pain in the arse having to do this all by herself. Yet she’d been through this more than once, and it was going to be for the foreseeable future. May as well just get on with it and shut up moaning, she thought.

Just as she got to her front door and started fumbling for her key, risking dropping all her bags in the process, a voice said,
“Let me help you with that.”

Tess dropped the bags.

She whirled to face the owner of the voice, unadulterated joy on her face.

“Aidan!” she shrieked. And, without caring who could be watching, she hurled herself into her husband’s arms. Luckily, Aidan had been fully expecting this kind of greeting and had braced himself. Supporting his wife’s bottom with his hands as her legs clasped around his waist, he felt himself stiffening almost immediately. You couldn’t blame him though, it had been months since he’d been home.

As she took his face in her hands, Tess was almost teary with happiness. She leaned in for a kiss that would show her husband exactly how much she’d missed him. Tightening her legs around him, she smiled into his mouth as she felt his erection nudging against her bottom.

What seemed like hours later, the couple finally came up for air. Surveying the damage around them, Tess made a quick decision.

“Grab the other bags while I dump this lot in the kitchen. Then lock the door behind you and get upstairs.”

Grinning, Aidan moved to do as he was told. Tess scrabbled items back into carrier bags and rushed into their home to put them down. Now the kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it. But she didn’t care. Her man was home. Smiling to herself, she turned as Aidan came in with the rest of the bags. She gestured to the floor and he put them down.

“Corporal Scott reporting for duty ma’am,” he said, snapping her a smart salute.

Bastard, she thought, he knows what it does to me when he goes all military on me. We’ll be lucky to make it upstairs at this rate.
Tess drank in every inch of her husband. The climate in Afghanistan had given him a decent tan, but of course he hadn’t been on holiday. He’d been fighting a war, and she was eternally grateful that he’d come back to her in one piece. He was still wearing his combats, with the regulation boots, but no headgear. He looked hot.

“Come here, soldier,” she said, crooking a finger, “and kiss me.”

 

It’s literally just hit All Romance eBooks, so you can grab it there, or hang fire for a few hours and grab it from Amazon. It’ll be rolling out to other retailers soon, too.

Add it to your Goodreads shelves.