New Release! Whips & Kisses: BDSM Erotic Romance by Lisabet Sarai

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Blurb

Whips & Kisses collects four lusciously erotic romance novellas in which willing surrender to a master leads to enduring love.

D and S is not a game, despite the way it’s portrayed in popular culture. It’s not a fashion statement. It is much, much more, a new way of being in the world. A doorway into a new kind of relationship, deeper and more intimate than what most people can imagine.

Buy Links

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0F9495QN7

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0F9495QN7

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/234481548-whips-kisses

Add on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/whips-kisses-bdsm-erotic-romance-by-lisabet-sarai

*****

WhipsAndKissesCover 400Excerpt from The Understudy – Rated R

“You’re still here, Sarah.” Hart wheeled to face me, breaking into my bitter internal monologue. “Good. After all, I didn’t tell you that you could go.”

Amusement lit up his handsome features. He towered over me, close enough that I could feel the heat emanating from his body. Embarrassment washed over me but didn’t quite submerge the undercurrent of arousal.

“May I leave?” I asked, my voice a weak quaver that disgusted me. Why was I asking, anyway? Who was he to tell me what to do?

“Not yet. I need your help unpacking. Go open the bag you carried up. It’s not locked.”

No, I wanted to scream. But I obeyed him anyway, pressing the chrome-plated catch on the sleek grey Samsonite case and flipping up the lid.

I gasped when I saw the contents. “It’s true!” I blurted out.

Hart came up behind me and looked over my shoulder. He didn’t touch me, but his mere presence was overpowering. “What’s true?”

I heard laughter in his voice. I pointed at the leather restraints and the rubber paddles, my hand shaking. “That—that you’re kinky. Into S and M, just like Adele said.”

“I prefer the term ‘D and S.’ Dominance and submission. My focus is on the exchange of power, not the administration of pain. Though I’m not averse to using pain if that’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing to do?” I turned to face him, hiding behind my indignation. “Are you joking?”

He was close, too close for comfort, deliberately invading my personal space. I tried to step backward. I succeeded only in banging my heel against the luggage rack.

“Ow!”

His eyes drilled into me. “I’m completely serious. D and S is not a game, despite the way it’s portrayed in popular culture. It’s not a fashion statement. It’s much, much more, a new way of being in the world. A doorway into a new kind of relationship, deeper and more intimate than anything you can imagine.”

“Right,” I muttered. I couldn’t bear to look at him. I stared down at my sandals, feeling the blush crawling up my cheeks and across my chest. “I’m sure that’s what all the perverts say.”

He caught my chin under his forefinger and raised my eyes to his. I trembled when his skin met mine.

“I can’t pretend it’s not exciting, of course—trying new implements, pushing the sub’s limits, testing her devotion. But that’s not the main point.”

I burned in the heat of his stare. I felt myself begin to melt, the crotch of my jeans growing damper with every beat of my pulse. I didn’t want to listen but I couldn’t hide my fascination.

He stroked his thumb across my cheek. I held my breath, wanting him to stop, dying for him to go further.

“Aren’t you curious, Sarah? Wouldn’t you like to drop your diligent, high-achieving, good little girl persona and find out what’s underneath?”

I couldn’t answer. How did he know these things about me, this man I’d met less than a half hour ago? Did he really understand the way I’d pushed myself in college and grad school, working for the top grades, following the rules, determined to succeed in my chosen path despite the odds? Did he know that I hadn’t had a lover for nearly four years? I hadn’t had time. Anyway, I’d been all too aware of the fact that everyone around me was both a colleague and a competitor.

I read compassion in his chiseled features, mingled with lust.

“I know you, little one. I know what you really crave. What you really need. Open yourself to me and I will fulfill the desires you don’t yet dare to admit, even to yourself.”

He didn’t wait for permission. He simply claimed my mouth as though it was his by right. I struggled for a moment, as his strong arm snaked around my waist and pulled me to his chest. Then I let go, let his tongue slide between my lips and his fingers slip under my shirt.

*****

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, BookBub, BingeBooks and Twitter.

Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Don’t Let Ideas Slip Away – A Guest Post from Lisabet Sarai (@lisabetsarai) #Steampunk #Menage #Lesbian #Bisexual #Threesome #Dominance #Submission #Homoerotic #Bondage #Discipline #FemDom #VictorianEra #SexToys #Feminist #Revenge #Tattoos #AltHistory #Orgy

Blog posts and how-to books aimed at authors often recommend that we keep an idea notebook. “Capture your inspirations when they’re fresh,” the pundits counsel. “Don’t let your ideas slip away.”

For many years, I’ve followed this recommendation. Typically I keep the notebook next to my bed, so that I can jot down the details of dreams that contain the seed of a story. Also, I tend to be more relaxed at night. Sometimes I’ll write a page or two, in longhand, before falling asleep.

It’s not uncommon for me to be fired up, initially, when I come up with a new idea and write it down. When I review my scribbles a few days later, on the other hand, my enthusiasm may have cooled. What seemed like a brilliant premise in the heat of inspiration will strike me as hackneyed or boring. Still, it’s there in the notebook, in case I change my mind.

The concept for the Toymakers Guild series showed up in my notebook way back in 2010. At the time, I was writing – or trying to write – traditional romance for Totally Bound. My original vision of the Guild was quite close to the portrayal in the series, a secretive Victoria-era establishment located in a remote part of England and dedicated to the creation of steampunk sex toys. I knew I’d have characters named Gillian, Amelia and Rafe, though I wasn’t sure who they were. I even had the titles for the series volumes. However, I pictured the series as romance. Each book, I assumed, would focus on a different relationship between a different set of Toymakers. Each book would also deal with the creation of some outrageous sexual artifact for a particular client.

I spent some time thinking about this, but I was busy with other books as well as real world responsibilities, and the momentum slipped away. One problem was that at that time I’d never before been successful in writing a series. I wasn’t confident I could maintain a fictional world over more than one book.

Time passed. I gradually shifted to self-publishing and in the process away from classic romance. Without intending to, I wrote my very successful Vegas Babes erotica series. I started to understand the dynamics of series creation. And I saw that from a commercial perspective, series were the way to go.

Then, late in 2019 I remembered the Toymakers. I dug out the old notebook and read the few pages I’d penned back in 2010. And the creative juices began to flow.

Three years later, I’ve finally completed the Toymakers trilogy. It has diverged dramatically from my original vision, but still, the core concepts haven’t really changed.

If I hadn’t captured those notes, I might well have forgotten about Gillian and her companions out on the Devon moors. I’m grateful I listened to advice!

*****

Excerpt:

A few minutes later, he pointed to a summit some hundred yards ahead. It was crowned by a finger of stone, pointing toward the sky. “That’s Brigit’s Tor,” he said. “Supposedly the standing stone is more than five thousand years old. Some claim the site was an ancient shrine.”

Trudging up the last, steep slope, they paused for breath. Gillian peered up at the granite pillar silhouetted against the blue background. Its shape was surprisingly regular and when they finally arrived at the shallow, grassy bowl at the top, she noticed it was free of the grey-green lichen that bloomed on most of the moorland rocks. It wasn’t that tall, perhaps half again her height, but when she passed beneath its shadow, she found herself shivering.

Other oblongs of stone lay scattered around the hilltop, some partly buried in the earth. Rafe seated himself on one sun-warmed slab and patted the spot beside him. “Sit, Jill. I’ve brought some tea.” He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a vacuum flask and two mugs, which he proceeded to fill.

“How clever of you!”  The beverage was lukewarm, but sweet and wonderfully refreshing after their climb. She sipped it gratefully while admiring the view from their elevated vantage point. The moors rolled away to the north and west, draped in velvety shades of olive and sage. Far to the east, she glimpsed a brick-coloured, smoke-hung smudge that had to be Tavistock. Closer to their perch, she noted a dense patch of emerald-green vegetation that was undoubtedly the grounds of Randerley. Despite the height of its towers, the hall itself could not be seen.

Faced with such an inspiring expanse, she found her spirits rising. She reached for Rafe’s hand. “Thank you so much for bringing me here. It’s truly marvellous!”

Rafe cupped the back of her head in one hand and pulled her into a fiery kiss. He didn’t embrace her, not yet, but his mouth sealed to hers with a finality that left her burning and breathless. Like some parched desert traveller who’d stumbled upon an oasis, he drank her in, desperate and thankful.

She opened to him, ready to give him whatever he needed or desired. His familiar flavour lit up her senses, quickening her pulse and making her nipples peak. The kiss consumed her. Surging desire and a lack of air combined to make her giddy. The earth wheeled around her, blue and green turning somersaults in her head.

“Oh, Jill,” he moaned when he finally set her free. “I can’t stand this any longer. Lie down!”

He eased her back onto the slab. She bent and parted her knees of her own accord, and began to unbutton her bodice.

“No, no, let me, please!” He half-rose, then fell to his knees in the grass beside the granite shelf, to one side of her. With typical speed and precision, he unfastened and opened her top, then slipped both hands inside to cradle her breasts through her shift.

Electric pleasure coursed through her, the sparks kindled by his touch racing to ignite her core. “Oh God, Rafe! I’ve missed you,” she panted, as he pulled up her chemise and applied his mouth to her aching nipples. He tongued and sucked the taut nubs, every touch adding fuel to the blaze between her legs.

She wanted him there, filling her cunny, as she’d never wanted anyone or anything. She craved the sensation of his irresistible hardness stretching her wide. At the same time, his exquisite attention felt too delicious to forego.

Closing her eyes, she surrendered to his mouth and his passion. Let him do whatever he wished. She had no doubt it would suit her own desires. As she lay on her back upon the altar-like stone, she imagined herself a willing sacrifice to the ancient earth gods, awaiting ecstasy and enlightenment.

Lost in a lascivious trance, it took a moment for her realise that Rafe had abandoned her nipples for other parts of her anatomy. He fumbled with her skirts, pushing them up over her knees so they pooled over her belly. Then he leaned in to sweep his tongue through her fully exposed cleft. She’d discarded her undergarments when she’d gone upstairs to change shoes, suspecting that Rafe might harbour carnal intentions with regard to their walk.

She gasped at the sudden, intense stimulation and arched up off the stone in an attempt to stay connected to his divine tongue. “Let me,” he repeated, forcing her hips back down. “Trust me to give you what you need.” He licked her again, more firmly this time, ending with a flick to her swollen clit. “Lie back and let me eat my fill.”

It was difficult to relax, nearly impossible to obey, but Gillian tried valiantly. He used his knowledge of her body to bring her to the very brink of spending, again and again, but he held back from the final stroke that would push her over the edge. Before long she was whimpering and moaning, struggling not to thrash about as he gorged on her slick, sensitive flesh.

“Oh, by the stars and planets, don’t tease me anymore, Rafe! Give me your cock, before I go crazy.”

*****

Blurb

How do you train a steampunk sexbot?

Gillian Smith’s promotion to journeyman proves she’s ready to lead the Toymakers in producing astonishing new erotic artifacts. Creative, brilliant, and debauched, she’ll stretch her capabilities to the limit as she juggles a talent shortage and a pair of jealous rivals. Then there’s the challenge of their latest commission—a life-sized programmable sex doll intended to replace a client’s deceased paramour.

Normally she would consult the enigmatic Master Toymaker, but he seems preoccupied with his own concerns. Though her lusty crew of sexual renegades can offer technical and carnal assistance, Gillian is ultimately responsible for delivering the promised, near-impossible technology.

It’s fortunate she’s not one to give up—not even when events threaten the Guild’s very survival.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/976-the-masters-mark-the-toymakers-guild-book-3/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BRHGN35L

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BRHGN35L

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1306694

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940165993299

Kobo –  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-master-s-mark-the-toymaker-s-guild-book-3

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6445290161

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/75611538-the-master-s-mark

*****

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

*****

CONTEST!

Lisabet Sarai is running a contest to celebrate the release of The Master’s Mark. The prize is a $10 book store gift certificate, plus an ebook copy of the new novel in your choice of formats.

To enter, do the following:

  • Send an email at contest [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com
  • In the body of the email, list the names of two characters in The Master’s Mark. (You can discover this from various blog posts and excerpts.)

One entry per person, please. On the first of February, Lisabet will randomly draw a winner from among all the entries. Be sure to send your entry to the “contest” email address above.

New Release! Bound and Breathless: Passionate Kink by Lisabet Sarai (@lisabetsarai) #kink #bdsm #dominance #submission #bondage #analsex #nippleclamps #buttplug #flogging #femdom #cutting #electricplay #humiliation #cuckold #fantasy #spanking #caning #polyamory

Bound and BreathlessBlurb

For some people, kink is a game, a way to spice up sex by adding a hint of taboo. This book isn’t about those people.

These stories dig deeper, baring souls, exposing the heady thrill of power and surrender, intimacy and complicity. In the passionate dance of dominant and submissive, there is no tomorrow. There is only now, balanced between pleasure and pain, breathless with forbidden possibilities.

Buy Links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B097HJYMFC/

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B097HJYMFC/

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B097HJYMFC/

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B097HJYMFC/

Universal Amazon Link: https://rxe.me/HJYMFC

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58372150-bound-and-breathless

*****

R-Rated Excerpt – from Just a Spanking

I am dressed as he requires, short skirt with no panties, silk blouse with no bra, and my favorite lace-up boots. I fidget on the seat as he drives up 101. The plastic is sticky against my bare skin and getting stickier by the minute. He stubbornly keeps his eyes on the road.

I part my thighs. The car fills with the ripe scent of my pussy. His nostrils twitch but otherwise he ignores me. My nipples feel as huge and hungry as they do when he winds them with rubber bands. I try to keep still. Each whisper of silk across my breasts makes my cunt clench and weep.

He opens the car door – a gentleman Dom – and helps me out. The brief contact of palm on palm makes me shudder with want. I follow him up the stairs to his apartment, watching his strong buttocks shift in his trousers as he climbs. I think about how they tense and relax when he fucks me. I’m panting by the time we reach the third floor, but not from exertion.

The door swings open. He steps aside, gesturing for me to enter. Normally he’d have me pressed against the wall, knee in my crotch and hands under my blouse, before the lock clicked shut. Today he simply stands beside me, a half-smile on his full lips, as I survey the familiar room.

He has already set things up. In the dining area, the table has been pushed out of the way. Two of the chairs face us, side by side, flanked on the left by the ottoman that normally sits in front of the armchair. That armchair is the usual location for his spankings, but I can see that tonight will be different. He’s trying to minimize my contact with his body. Clever man.

“Strip,” he orders, as he has so many times before. My heart somersaults in my chest, as it always does. He seats himself in the middle chair to watch me remove the few clothes I’m wearing.

I can feel the weight of his eyes, tracing my curves, lingering on my swelling breasts. I move as slowly and sensuously as I can, working to arouse him, to undermine his resolution not to touch me. His pants are loose. I can’t really tell whether his cock is hard, but his lips are parted and there’s a flush on his cheeks.

“Behave yourself, Becca,” he warns. “No teasing, or you’ll get the cane after I’m finished with your spanking. In fact, you’re guaranteed the cane if you’re not naked in ten seconds.”

His threat has the desired effect. I tear off my blouse and a button goes flying into the corner. I don’t care. I stand naked before him, awaiting his instructions.

He makes me wait. Heat shimmers through me. Blood pounds in my ears. I study my toes and listen to my breath. Fear and excitement co-mingle, until I can’t tell one from the other. My bratty determination to make him touch me fades away, although my clit still throbs and my juices trickle down my thighs. All I want is to please him. I’ll wait forever if that is what it takes. Indeed, a part of me would rather wait than know what comes next.

“All right, Rebecca,” he says finally. “Kneel on the footstool and stretch your body across my legs.”

I look up to find that he has placed one of the throw pillows on his lap. I understand that he wants a barrier between my body and his possible erection. Plus the cushion is too soft to provide much friction. Obviously he has planned this carefully. I would not have expected less from him.

I am awkward as I clamber onto the ottoman and spread my body across his lap. The padded stool is the perfect height. When I bend at the hip, my belly rests on the cushion and my ass is in air, just to the right of his body. I rest my chest on the chair to his left, cradling my head in my crossed arms. I’m not uncomfortable. I feel stable and well-supported.

“Thighs together. That’s right. Bring your knees closer to the chair. Good.” I comply as promptly as I can. The shift raises my butt higher. I’m totally accessible. Completely vulnerable.

It’s delicious.

Usually he warms me up when he’s about to spank me. He will stroke and knead my buttocks, then pinch me hard just as I am starting to relax. More often than not he’ll slip a blunt finger between my cheeks and swirl it around in my pussy. He’ll tell me what a pervert I am, to be so wet at the mere thought of being beaten. I’ll be torn between embarrassment and pride. I know that this is one reason why he wants me.

Tonight, though, the only warm up is more waiting. He doesn’t touch me, though I can feel his eyes like ghostly fingers on my exposed flesh. My cunt feels heavy and swollen, pressed against the cushion. I shift my position the tiniest bit and pleasure sparks from my clit to my nipples and back again in a maddening cycle.

“Be still,” he orders. “No squirming around. No humping the pillow. This is a spanking, pure and simple. You may yell or cry as much as you want. But I don’t want you to move. That will spoil it.”

There’s menace in his voice, and promise. We are about to embark on a new adventure together.

“Do you understand?”

I’m sure he feels me tremble as I nod, but he doesn’t chide me. Instead he brings the flat of his hand down hard on my ass.

“Ow!” I’m startled more than hurt. The sting races like a wildfire from my cheek to my clit. The swollen nub compressed between my thighs is a red hot coal. “Ouch!” Before the echoes die he lands another blow, sharp and precise, on the opposite mound. Brief pain flares before pleasure drowns it.

*****

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and  Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

New Release! Sharing Leah: A Polyamorous Romance by Lisabet Sarai (@lisabetsarai) #Menage #Polyamory #Triad #BDSM #Dominance #Submission #Bondage #MaleEgos #Sharing #MaineCoast #DownEast

Sharing LeahBlurb

Some women might think Leah’s existence heavenly – shared by two sexy men who both adore her. Ten years married to lusty, artistic Daniel, she still finds ecstatic release in surrendering to her master Greg.

But Daniel’s and Greg’s jealousy and possessiveness have made Leah’s life a hell.  They bring out the worst in each other. And in some sense, it’s all her fault. If she loved only one of them, if she made a choice, that would be that. In theory, at least.

Unable to bear the continuous conflict, she escapes to the beautiful Maine coast to ponder her future. Gradually she realizes that she cannot live without either of her lovers. But if the two men can’t settle their differences,  how can she bear to live with them?

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound with the title Truce of Trust. It has been revised, expanded and re-edited for this release.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/42-sharing-leah-a-polyamorous-romance/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B094XPD83D

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B094XPD83D

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1084055

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sharing-leah-lisabet-sarai/1139457298?ean=2940164905293

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/sharing-leah-a-polyamorous-romance

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58040241-sharing-leah

*****

Excerpt

Leah stood before the door to Greg’s room, her palms wet and her heart slamming against her ribs. It was always this way—the almost sick feeling of excitement that she associated with him.

He opened the door before she could knock. His hearing was amazingly acute, like all his senses.

“Ah, you’re back, little one.” Six foot four and solid as a tank, Greg towered over her. Everything about him screamed power—the corded biceps straining against his shirt, the tree-trunk thighs, those velvet-brown eyes that pierced her soul, catching every nuance of emotion. His soft, rich voice mesmerized her. She had the urge to kneel at his feet, but before she could act on the impulse, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the room, closing the door behind them.

He pressed her body against the wall, her wrists pinned above her head. He needed only one huge hand to hold her fast. With the other, he unbuttoned her blouse. He peeled her bra away, revealing her brazenly rigid nipples. He pinched one of the protruding nubs, hard enough to make her yelp. Moisture gushed into her already sodden panties. He bent to lave away the pain with his hot mouth. Blessed relief flowed through her, only to be shattered by his teeth closing down on her flesh.

“I can smell you,” Greg crooned. “I could smell you coming down the hall. My little slut, come home to her master.”

“Yes, sir.” Some fragment of Leah’s consciousness cringed at Greg’s corny lines, yet they never failed to arouse her.

“But why are you wearing pants? You know that I want you to always be accessible.”

“Sorry, but I had a meeting…”

“No excuses. Take them off, now. Before I tear them off.” He released her wrists. Leah unfastened the waistband, pushed the trousers to her ankles and kicked them into a corner.

“Panties, too. I would think that you’d know better, by now.”

Greg’s voice was gruff, but he was smiling despite himself. His smile grew broader as she bared her sex to his fierce gaze.

“Turn around. Lean forward and put your hands against the wall. Spread your thighs.”

Her heart was pounding so hard that her chest hurt. She could scarcely breathe, she was so aroused.

She leaned into the wall, glad for the support, and arched her back, presenting her bare buttocks as he had taught her to do.

Her naked skin registered every motion, every shift in the air. She knew he was watching her, admiring her as yet unmarked flesh, making her wait. She sensed his own excitement, held in check. She felt the weight of his will, bearing down on her.

Would he spank her? Give her a taste of the crop? Most of his toys were stored in his dungeon, but she didn’t doubt that he kept one or two implements of punishment here in his bedroom, just in case.

Would he unsheathe his oversized cock and fuck her?

Her mind whirled, every vision lewder than the last. Without a word from him, without a touch, her lust rose to the boiling point. Her juices overflowed, dribbling down the insides of her thighs. She blushed, knowing he would not miss this detail.

One thick finger swept through her drenched folds. It lingered for the briefest instant on her aching clit. Leah cried out, trembling on the edge of orgasm from this single touch.

“You’re amazingly wet, slut. But then you always are, when I’m around.”

*****

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, BookBub, BingeBooks and Twitter.

Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

New Release! Mastering Maya: A BDSM Erotic Romance by Lisabet Sarai (@lisabetsarai) #BDSM #Dominance #Submission #Bondage #Discipline #KinkCommunity #Dominatrix #Femdom #Switch #Safeword #Consent #Boston

Mastering MayaBlurb

Mistress Maya’s precise discipline and unshakable self-possession are legendary in the Boston kink community. Newcomer Dom Shark is fascinated by her beauty and power from the moment he sees her flogging a sub at Club Inferno. Behind the Ice Queen’s mask of perfect control, he senses a spirit aching to submit. He’s determined to break through her defenses and bring her the same release she grants to the lucky slaves she tops.

When Maya dismisses Master Shark as young and inexperienced, he offers her a challenge: a night together, during which he’ll show her what it means to be mastered. If he fails to bring her to new heights of bliss, he agrees to become her slave.

Can he make Maya trust him enough to surrender? Or will the flawless, untouchable dominatrix take possession of his body as well as his heart?

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been revised, expanded and re-edited for this release.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/8574-mastering-maya-a-bdsm-erotic-romance/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08SKJQFZ8

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08SKJQFZ8

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1063272

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mastering-maya-lisabet-sarai/1138601539?ean=2940164780654

Kobo –  https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/mastering-maya-a-bdsm-erotic-romance

Add on Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56610584-mastering-maya

*****

Excerpt

While washing the stickiness from her hands, she surveyed herself in the mirror. Milk-white skin and ebony hair from her Black Irish father, cut severely to the level of her jaw; high cheekbones and plump lips from her Lebanese mother. Her nose was a bit prominent, and a few tiny lines decorated the corners of her green eyes, but, all in all, she approved. Not too bad for a thirty-six-year-old broad. Most of all, she liked the strength she saw in her expression. She lived her own life. She made her own decisions. She controlled herself. No one else could step in and take that control away.

But that strange Dom…

She’d felt oddly transparent under his scrutiny. It had been unsettling, but exciting, too. The challenge in his eyes had been too blatant to miss. He wanted her. He wanted to play.

A vision seized her—the nameless stranger bent naked over the foot board of her bed, with his arms spread wide and his wrists roped to the bedposts. Tattoos would wind around his biceps—barbed wire, or perhaps Celtic patterns. His taut, round butt elevated by pillows, he’d beg her to fuck him. She’d beat him first, though, marking his long thighs with her crop, paddling his butt cheeks to the color of raw hamburger. Maybe she’d clip weights to his scrotum and nipples, or trap his swollen prick in a tight leather cage.

And he’d plead for more—more pain, more humiliation, more proof of her power. She’d never head his voice but she imagined it, deep and a bit gravelly, a contrast with his James Dean bad-boy appearance. It would be so sweet, finally giving him what he craved, donning her harness and driving her prick into his ass.

The image was so vivid! She dimly realized that she’d sunk to her haunches, her thighs splayed open, just inside the ladies’ room door. Three fingers of one hand were buried in her cunt. With her other, she plucked at her nipples through her bra, twisting them almost as hard as she imagined doing to the stranger.

She settled the pad of her thumb against her clit, while her fingers delved deeper. She was already close to the edge, self-stimulation combining with fantasy to ramp her back to the brink where James had left her, only ten minutes before.

Someone will see…

She arched her back, screwing the stranger Dom for all she was worth. The knob near the base of her dildo rubbed over her clit as she rammed into him, giving him what they both craved. He whimpered with pleasure, his strong body totally open to her power.

You’re losing control…

Doubts buzzed like mosquitoes, distracting her from her pleasure. She focused on her fantasy sub, reading his body language, sure that he wanted more. He tightened his butt around her silicone cock, transmitting the pressure to her sensitized tissues. “You’re mine,” she cried in her daydream, drilling into his ass as though to tear him open.

You’re mine.

The thought intruded. It was Roger’s voice at first, warm and cultured, seductive and treacherous. Then it deepened and grew rougher. All at once, her fantasy shifted.

She was the one tied spread-eagled with her ass in the air, not just her wrists but her ankles too, the ropes so tight she could scarcely move. Her shoulders ached with the pull of the bonds. Her cunt dripped onto the carpet. A blindfold hid her tormentor but she couldn’t ignore his fingers, poking into her to gather her pussy juice then smearing it over her anus. The rude fingers probed, loosening her, triggering sharp stabs of delight. She contracted her muscles, trying futilely to keep him out, but the fingers dancing in her cunt melted any determination to resist. “You’re mine,” he repeated, whoever he was, rubbing the knob of his huge-seeming cock against her back entrance. “Let me in.”

*****

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and  Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

D&S Duos Book 6 by Lisabet Sarai (@lisabetsarai) #Menage #Dominance #Submission #BDSM #Flogging #Bondage #NippleClamps #AnalSex #Polyamory #Threesome #Lesbian

Blurb

Muse

Of course she’d dreamed of being a slave. That was obvious on a close reading of any of her romances. The passion leaked out, even in the tamest of her kinky scenes. Yet when the Master she’d craved appeared, at first she didn’t recognize him.

Détente

I don’t want to surrender, but I can’t help it. I’m dizzy with instantly kindled lust. He nips at my lips, probes me with his tongue. He drinks me in, consumes me. Between my thighs everything melts. The room begins to smell funky, as though he already had me naked and open before him.

Also includes an X-rated excerpt from Babes in Bondage: Vegas Babes Book 5.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/6899-ds-duos-book-6/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/D-S-Duos-Book-6-ebook/dp/B087HHF835

Amazon UK –  https://www.amazon.co.uk/D-S-Duos-Book-6-ebook/dp/B087HHF835

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1017280

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/d-s-duos-book-6-lisabet-sarai/1136902309?ean=2940164047849

Kobo –  https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/d-s-duos-book-6

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53300074-d-s-duos-book-6

*****

X-rated Excerpt – from “Muse”

“Sir?”

The room had been silent for so long, her own voice startled her. He looked up from his book.

“Done? Let me see.” Seating himself out of reach once again, he perused the three and a half-pages she’d composed.

Anxiety mingled with lust, she watched his reactions. He arched an eyebrow – pursed his lips – shook his head. Did he like it? Was it raw enough to earn her the reward she craved?

Finally he set the pad down. His lips curved into a grin. “You certainly are a nasty girl, Lissa. Just as I suspected.”

Unzipping his coveralls, he draped them over the chair back. He was naked underneath, sporting a sizable erection that made it quite clear what he thought of her work. Elation sang through her.

“On your knees, slave.”

Still shackled to the chair, she was awkward as she slipped to the floor.

“Hands clasped behind you. Back arched.” She presented her breasts, wondering what he thought of their modest size. They hadn’t really talked about bodies at all. At least her nipples were impressive, pert, fat nubs the size and shape of hazelnuts. He brushed the tips with his palm, sending tendrils of pleasure spiraling down to her clenching pussy.

“Don’t move, now. And be quiet.”

She’d read about nipple clamps, of course, including personal accounts on BDSM blogs. Her research did not prepare her for the burst of agony when he slid the tines of the tweezer clamp around her nipple and then let go. She bit back her scream, her breathing shallow as she tried to adjust to the excruciating pressure. He pushed the ring circling the tines further up toward her distorted flesh, tightening the hold. Had she really wanted this? And yet she was soaked, too, her clit pulsing with each surge of pain.

“Very good. Now the other…”

Two clamps hurt far more than twice as much. She whimpered, determined to act like the slave he believed her to be, obedient and brave. He traced the outline of her lips with one finger, then slipped it inside her mouth. She sucked hard on the digit, imagining it was his cock.

“Soon. Very soon. You’re doing well, Lissa.” He removed his finger and this time she couldn’t stifle her moan. “On all fours now.”

Gravity pulled at her breasts, heightening the pain. Mitch unfastened the chain securing her to the chair then backed away. “Crawl to me,” he ordered. She did, knowing she looked ridiculous, not caring if this was what he wanted.

He’d thrown a pillow onto the carpet. With a hand between her shoulder blades, he pressed her head to the floor. “Stretch your arms back behind you.” She’d complied before he’d even finished the order. This was, after all, her fantasy.

*****

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and  Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh