New Release and Guest Post - Once Upon a Blizzard - by Lisabet Sarai @LisabetSarai #secondchance #mmf #bisexual #holidayromance

 Old Flames

For most of us, high school is a time of sexual awakening. With all the hormones pouring into our blood, we’re in a near-constant state of excitement. I don’t know how kids are now, but during my high school years, my “sexual” experiences were limited to some steamy kisses and groping. Still, everyone around me seemed to have a heightened awareness of desire, although we knew very little about the details. Flirtation, teasing, crushes, fantasies, conspiracies – every interaction felt edged with erotic possibilities, even if most of these never materialized.

I remember that period with aching affection. In later years, when I’ve reconnected with some of my old flames, I’ve found the original heat still simmered in the background. Most of us are married now, some more than once. There’s no chance of consummating the old adolescent lust, even if it were reciprocal. But somehow, for me at least, the original thrill hasn’t totally dissipated.

Once Upon a Blizzard was loosely inspired by actual relationships from my high school years. As described in the story, there was in fact a triangle involving me and two of my male classmates  (though I’m pretty sure that they didn’t have any homoerotic connection). For a time, I was the girlfriend of the taller, more popular, more alpha of the two guys, but I’ve often thought I might have made the wrong choice – especially after he dumped me, exactly as described in the book.

Writing this second-chance romance gave me the opportunity to imagine what might have happened between the beta guy and me, if we’d had the chance to revisit our old connection.

New Release!

Once Upon a Blizzard:

A Bisexual Holiday Romance

by

Lisabet Sarai

 

Bisexual (MMF) holiday erotic romance (5 flames)

14,800 words

Smashwords and Amazon KDP

ISBN (Smashwords): 9781005502300

ASIN: ‎ B0BPMPZ7NG

Blurb

No electricity. No water. Plenty of heat. 

Suzanne and Gino have a history going back to high school, but for more than a decade the workaholic CEO has been thousands of miles from her New England home town.

A mistletoe kiss at a Christmas party rekindles the old spark and Suzanne finds some things do indeed get better with age. When Gino rescues her from a blizzard, though, she discovers that she's not the only love in his life. Gino shares his bed and his colonial-era farm house with taciturn painter Harris Steele.

Snowed in with two lusty men who truly seem to care, she wonders why she’s so determined to return to her lonely West Coast life. Is there really a chance for a holiday happy ending?

Note: this book was previously published by Totally Entwined with the title Almost Home. It has been revised and re-edited for this edition.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://kinkyliterature.com/book/906-once-upon-a-blizzard-a-bisexual-holiday-romance/

Amazon  US –  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BPMPZ7NG

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BPMPZ7NG

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1263368

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/once-upon-a-blizzard-lisabet-sarai/1142821106

Kobo –  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/once-upon-a-blizzard

Apple Books - https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6445045725

Add on Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/65004121-once-upon-a-blizzard

X-rated Excerpt (MMF)

Harris urged Gino onto his hands and knees, crosswise on the king-sized bed. Kneeling behind, he pulled the globes of Gino’s butt apart and wiggled his fingers back into the hole between them. “Still loose and juicy,” he commented.

“Oh, yeah,” breathed Gino. “Take me, lover.”

Harris stroked his cock a few times then placed the knob against stretched ring of muscle and pushed. He held Gino open so that Suzanne could see the rigid length of flesh disappearing inch by inch into Gino’s back passage.

“Oh, God!” Gino gasped as Harris filled him.

“Oh God!” echoed Suzanne, as her pussy clenched and her rear hole twitched with sympathetic pleasure.

Harris grasped Gino’s hips and pumped his cock in and out. Gino relaxed and let Harris take him over. Gino’s swollen cock jutted underneath him, bouncing against his belly each time Harris thrust into his ass. Suzanne ached to feel that bulk inside her. But she was the guest here—this was Harris’ turf and she had to let him call the shots.

She slipped two fingers into her wet sex, hoping that the men wouldn’t mind, and frigged herself in time with Harris’ strokes. As Harris picked up speed, she did also, skirting close to the edge of climax. Then she backed off. She wanted to come with Gino inside her. She only hoped she’d get the chance soon.

Harris paused as if he had read her mind. He shifted position, kneeling back onto his heels and dragging Gino, still impaled, onto his lap. Gino’s thighs splayed out on either side of his lover’s. His erection pointed straight at the ceiling.

“Climb on,” Harris instructed. “We’ll see if he can handle both of us.”

Suzanne didn’t need a second invitation. She clambered over to their joined bodies, squatted above Gino’s tempting bulk and settled down, swallowing him with her pussy.

 Gino gasped as her heat enfolded him. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into a frantic kiss. Meanwhile, Harris flexed his thighs and drove his cock up into Gino’s ass. The force sent Gino’s rod deeper into Suzanne’s body. Suzanne rocked in Gino’s lap, her hands on his shoulders, her feet braced against Harris’ thighs. The blond man didn’t seem to mind. He just picked up the pace, ramming hard and fast into Gino’s body and sending Gino’s cock careening into her body in reaction.

Gino looked dazed. His lips were parted, hoarse breath forced out with each thrust. His hair was plastered on his sweaty forehead. Harris clasped him around the waist with strong, wiry arms. Every so often Suzanne felt the artist’s long fingers circle the base of Gino’s cock and give it a squeeze, brushing her cunt lips in the process and sending high voltage sizzling up her spine.

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 - The Alpha's Demiwolf - by @GaleStanley [Utopia, 1] #NewAdult #Paranormal #Romance

The Alpha's Demiwolf 

Utopia, 1

Author: Gale Stanley

Publisher: Changeling Press

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

BIN: 009067-02934

Genres: Paranormal, Romance, New Adult, Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance, Voyeurism and Exhibitionism, Werewolves

Blurb:

Kya: I’m a demiwolf -- half wolf, half human, and both species despise my weird mix of genes. Despite the fact I strip for a living, I’ve hung on to my virginity for twenty-two years. Until I got knocked up by a big, bad wolf. Now, I’m going to bring another demiwolf into the world, but his father will never know.

Levi: I’m all wolf, and Alpha of my pack, committed to keeping our bloodlines pure. Then on the night of my bachelor party, I hooked up with a stripper. I just wanted to teach the demiwolf a lesson, but the sex set me on fire. My wolf claimed her and now I can’t get her out of my head. But what if she won’t accept me?

Available at:

Changeling Press

Amazon

B & N

Kobo 

iBooks

Excerpt:

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

The Alpha's Demiwolf (Utopia 1)

Gale Stanley

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2019 Gale Stanley

Kya

I cringed when I saw the billboard proclaiming, Girls! Girls! Girls! It was a tacky way to get attention, and I hated it. Averting my eyes, I turned the corner, pulled into the lot, and parked my old pickup behind the club. It was my first night at Show ’n Tails, and a definite step down from my old job, but I’d been fired and needed a gig ASAP.

The incident wasn’t my fault. There were two of us on the stage and Brandi was so sloshed she invaded my space and fell on her ass. As if that wasn’t enough, she accused me of tripping her. Well, one thing led to another and we both got canned. Another girl told me that Show ’n Tails was hiring and I went for an audition. The manager was an asshat, but he doesn’t ask too many questions. I like to keep a low profile.

This isn’t the life I wanted, but taking off my clothes pays the bills, and I won’t apologize for trying to earn a living. At least I’m not selling my body, just the illusion of sex. A lot of girls up their game, but not me. My virginity is the last piece of self-respect I own and I won’t give it up to some creep for any amount of money.

The heavy backdoor slammed shut and locked behind me and the manager shot me a dirty look. “Hey, Kya. You’re late.”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again. And my name is Raven when I’m working.”

Marty’s lip curled in a sneer. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You better get dressed. I mean undressed.” He snickered.

I ignored his disrespectful ass, and walked over to the dressing room. A row of dented lockers lined one wall. A wide counter with a lighted mirror behind it ran the length of the opposite wall. Everything stunk from sweat and cheap perfume. The long vanity was cluttered with makeup and no one made room for the new girl, so I started changing next to my locker. When a spot at the mirror opened up, I grabbed it and started working on my wild black curls.

Marty stuck his head in the door. “Hey, fresh meat, you’re on next.”

I knew he meant me. I was the newest girl there. Half of me cringed, the half that’s wolf. The half I keep hidden. Or is it a quarter of me I keep hidden? I guess it depends on how you look at it. A full-blooded wolf-shifter is already half human, although they’ll never admit to it. My father was a wolf, but my mother was human.

Does that mean I’m… Oh, fuck the fractions. No matter how you look at it, I’m a demiwolf.

But I look human. I checked my body in the mirror. Yep, a hot as hell human female stared back at me. Tacky, but sexy. Nothing says stripper like stiletto platform heels and a thong that shows off a girl’s booty. I slipped on a white, halter mini-dress with a drape-neck, an open back, and a side slit. Then I ran my hands through my curls and gave my lips one last swipe of purple-plum gloss.

It’s so much easier to call myself human and blend in with the majority. The humans are clueless. They know we exist, but they believe we keep to our own side of the tracks. The wolves are a different story. They can smell my lupine pheromones, but they don’t want me. I’m not pure. Fuck ‘em. At least I can make a living among the humans. Stripping might be a trashy job, but it pays for the life I’m trying to live. It’s not the life I want, but it’s all I’ve got. I used to dream about being accepted by my father’s people. Fat chance. They wouldn’t even accept him because he had a human lover and a half-breed kid.

My parents never married, but they lived together -- sometimes. When my father was around, I was daddy’s girl. But all too often, he would disappear as if he had no family. My mother would drink and tell me that he liked to hang out with his own kind in places where we weren’t accepted. When he came back from his trips, he’d act cold and resentful, but it wouldn’t last long. Eventually, he’d tell me he loved me and everything would be okay again. I thought nothing would keep us apart for good. I was wrong.

One day he didn’t come back. We found out he was killed in a bar fight. One of his so-called friends called me a mongrel and Dad died defending me. My mother cried and cried. She said this was why they never wanted kids. So I was what… an accident?

I couldn’t blame them. Not really. Life was hard enough without being born with this weird mix of genes. I hated myself, too. I wished I’d never been born. At least I could make things easier for my mother. As soon as I finished school, I left home and never looked back.

While waiting to go on, I thought about my routine -- floor work, then pole dancing, then back on the floor. I’m not nervous anymore about being naked in front of a roomful of men. I was at first, but now I focus on my moves. I’ve been scorned and dehumanized all my life, so I like to emphasize something I can do well -- dance.

I peeked through the curtain and watched Candy finish her routine. There’s a mirror behind the stage and a pole in the center. Chairs surrounded the stage for customers who wanted direct contact with the dancers. I watched one of the men put a bill in his mouth. Candy shoved her breasts in his face and used them to grab the money. There were hoots and hollers and more men waved bills at her. She collected all of her tips, then picked up her clothes, and ran off the stage.

The DJ, sitting in an alcove nearby, introduced me. “Next up is a beautiful lady who’s new here. You’re gonna see her naked for the first time tonight.”

Well, it’s not a complete lie. It’s my first time naked on this stage.

“Give Raven a nice warm welcome.”

My heartbeat skyrocketed as I stepped through the curtains and climbed the three steps to the stage. The opening bars of my music started up and I began to move.

* * *

Levi

My anticipation ran high. I’m always excited to see new talent. Samson made a joke about the taste of fresh meat and we all laughed, then I looked up at the stage and my eyes practically popped out of my head, like in one of those old cartoons. The new girl… what’s her name? Raven. She took my breath away. Her curvy shape and that thick black mane had me salivating. From what I could see, everything looked natural, and she had the best set of legs in the club.

“That is one hot piece of ass.” Samson stood up. “I need a closer look.”

Samson walked over to the stage and we all followed. Raven smiled in our direction and my heart took a leap. Her white mini dress emphasized all that golden skin, but it was her eyes that really stood out. Almond in shape and color, they seemed to be staring directly at me.

Author Bio and Links  

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

Website | Blog | Twitter | FaceBook | Instagram | Pinterest

NEW from @JaceyHolbrand Mason's Mijos [The Agency Series 4] #mpreg #menage

Hey folks! Today I'm happy to announce that I finally have another story in my The Agency series out! It's called Mason's Mijos. But first a little about me...

~ * ~ BIO ~ * ~   Jacey Holbrand believes life and love comes in all forms and should be celebrated. She’s committed to her muse and writing so she can share her stories with readers. Hot days. Sexy nights. Come play in her world.

Jacey loves to hear from readers! Click the link to eMail her: JaceyHolbrand@gmail.com

~ * ~ STALK ~ * ~
Website/Blog ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Facebook Page

~ * ~ ABOUT THE BOOK ~ * ~
This story is the fourth and last book in The Agency series that deals with the conspiracy theory.

Like two of the other books in the series, Mason's Mijos deals with male pregnancy, and it also has a couple of surprises that I hope readers will enjoy. ;)

In addition, Mason's Mijos has a menage element, has some food play and sexy, sexy men! :)

Be Warned: MPREG, m/m sex, menage sex (MMM), food play, rimming, double penetration, voyeurism

... He’ll do anything for love.

~ * ~ BLURB ~ * ~
Mason Diaz is shocked when he sees his two ex-boyfriends, Flynn Grayson and Ryker Gemmings, together and at an alien encounters support group. Old feelings for them resurface when they tell Mason they want a threesome relationship. Eager to rekindle the connections, Mason goes up to Flynn’s house in the mountains for the weekend of a lifetime with the two men.

Abductions. Food play. Secrets and confessions about alien origins and shifting.

It’s not exactly what Mason had expected.

Especially the pregnancies.

Can he continue to love each of them while trying to survive the life changing events and all the revelations the weekend has in store?

~ * ~ EXCERPT ~ * ~
“Why did you want to come back?”

Flynn put down his drink and took Mason’s hands in his. “Haven’t I made that clear? I returned for you. I fought to come back because I love you.”

Mason kissed Flynn’s knuckles on one hand then the other. “And I love you. That’s what I decided. Who you are on the inside is what matters. Not where you come from or what you can do. I. Love. You. What can I do to help you with your mission? Find a woman for you to knock up? I’m sure my sister has some friends who’d be interested in you.”

“No.” Flynn shook his head. “I don’t want any females. I just want you.”

“But if you don’t do what you need to, you’ll be sent home. Right?” Mason couldn’t imagine being without Flynn, never hearing his laugh or seeing his smile. He had to be able to do something to keep the love of his life on Earth.

“I know, and the thought of leaving you again just kills me.” Flynn appeared to think for a moment. “You know, I could transform my genitals long enough for you to impregnate me.”

Mason chuckled. A man, changing his boyish bits into girly parts so he could carry a baby? Given to him by his male lover? That’s one for the tabloids. “I gotta hand it to you. It’s an interesting idea, Flynn, but a gestation period will be much longer than a few minutes.”

“I realize that. I have a medication to speed up the process, so it’ll only take a few days to a week or so. I believe I can keep the small transformation of my reproductive system going until I deliver.”

“I don’t know, Flynn. As much as I always wanted a child with you, I don’t want to put you in danger. And what if it doesn’t work?”

“Trust me. I’ll do my best to keep myself safe and make it happen. If I have your child, I’ll have done my duty and given you the best gift in the world. If for some reason it doesn’t work, then I’ll have to bite the bullet and find an Earth woman to procreate with.” He squeezed Mason’s hands. “Please, Mason, say we can do this. Let me have your baby.”

If anyone ever had said he’d be having such a conversation in his life, he would have called them daft. Yet here he was. Talking with his partner about having a baby. Together. Without the medical intervention of surrogacy. Just him, Flynn, and nature taking its bizarre, in this case, course.

~ * ~ BUY ~ * ~
Evernight Publishing ## All Romance Books ## Amazon ## Apple ## Barnes & Noble ## BookStrand ## Kobo ## Smashwords
~ * ~
Thank you for having me on your blog, and readers, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all!

Jacey

Out Now! - The Collector by @kay_jaybee 2 New Bonus Stories #erotica #ku

Please welcome back the lovely 

Kay Jaybee

Re-edited, with a brand new cover, and two HOT new stories, Kay Jaybee’s first solo work of erotica is being re-released for a new generation of sexy story lovers!

Alongside each story, there is a short introduction explaining exactly how “the collector” came across the tale in the first place.

Blurb


Gathering salaciously erotic stories against an everyday backdrop of bus trips, train journeys, coffee shops, and restaurants, The Collector documents a wide variety of sexual encounters as she travels Great Britain.

The Collector’s research takes her into every arena of the erotic experience, from love, lust, submission and dominance, to voyeurism and beyond.

Are you brave enough to see if it was your supposedly private conversation she overheard - and then wrote down?


Buy The Collector now, or read as part of your Kindle Unlimited subscription: http://getbook.at/thecollector

Extract from The Scottish Fantasy

(One of two new stories added into this new addition of The Collector)

Stacie gasped as the door opened. The dark shine to the man’s slate eyes as he regarded her and her friend Kate was in danger of taking Stacie’s breath away, and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

Tall, broad, with a tanned face and short spiked hair, a hint of stubble shadowed his square chin. Obviously surprised to see two young women walking through the woods so late on a winter’s afternoon, the ranger ushered them inside his wooden hut.

Introducing himself as Rob—Like Rob Roy! Stacie’s inner voice shouted at her. How perfect is that!—he looked at them enquiringly, ‘I dunna ken what you’re doin’ here, hens.’

Stacie’s brow furrowed. She’d thought that the Scottish spoke English.

Kate laughed as she saw her friend’s confused expression. ‘He means he doesn’t understand what we want, honey. “Dunna ken” means “don’t know” and “hen” is the local term for girl.’ Turning toward the ranger, Kate smiled. ‘This is Stacie, and I’m Kate. Stacie hasn’t got her ear geared into the local accent yet; she’s American.’

‘I guess that means an American accent.’ The ranger spoke so softly, Stacie felt herself melting on the spot. ‘I rather like those.’

Ignoring her friend, whose eyes were on stalks, leaving her in no doubt that Stacie was on an internal lust trip, Kate said, ‘We’re really sorry to bother you so late, but could you tell us where we are? We seem to be on a much longer trail than we intended to be, and we’ve lost the track.’

Rob’s dark eyes bored into her as she spoke. Kate couldn’t decide if their presence mildly amused him, or if he was merely tolerating the interruption to his work.

‘We’ve run out of water as well. Could we fill up our bottles here, please?’

‘It’s a good job you stopped, hen.’ The ranger pulled a map off his cluttered desk and pointed a thick finger at a red dotted line. ‘You’re here, on the all day walk. It’s called that for sound reasons.’

Lost in an erotic daydream, Stacie wasn’t listening to a word he said, just to the sound of his voice; the beautiful, gentle burr of his accent. She judged it fitted neatly half way between Ewan McGregor and Sean Connery.

When Kate had invited her friend over from the States for a couple of weeks exploring the Grampians of Scotland, Stacie had been thrilled. Not only could she catch up with her gorgeous friend and occasional lover, she could visit an area of the world that had always held a fantasy for her. Kilts, burly men in tight white vests, cabers being tossed, heather, whiskey, and mountains topped with snow.

The heather and mountains were a reality sure enough, as were the late night tots of warming whiskey she’d shared with Kate as they snuggled up together in the king-sized bed their Deeside hotel room provided. But until now, in this ranger’s office, hidden away in the woods near the flooded caves of Burn O’Vat, Stacie hadn’t seen anyone who even came close to the Celtic man of her late night fantasies.

Stacie felt mesmerised by the ranger. Despite the coldness of the late winter air he wore no coat, and his green sweater sleeves were rolled back to show arms honed by hard work. Forget kilts, this was as close to perfection as Stacie’s Scottish fantasy was ever going to get.

‘I’ll fill your bottles right enough, but if you’ll heed my advice, you’ll go back on the route you came. Far quicker and safer. It’ll be dark in about two hours.’

‘Thanks, I think we’ll do that.’ Kate watched as he took their empty water bottles over to his sink. His back view was as stunning as his front. The goldfish expression on Stacie’s face told her girlfriend that she was mentally undressing him, and Kate began to do the same. Well aware that Stacie had serious fantasy issues where Scottish men were concerned, Kate wondered just how turned on her friend was. Did she have damp knickers? Were her nipples hard?

As Kate’s thoughts rambled, her own arousal began to tweak up a notch. Perhaps… She took a deep breath. Well, why not?

‘It must be lonely here, on your own all day.’ Kate knew the line was a bit lame, but she didn’t care. A sideways glance at Stacie showed that her lover had understood her intentions, and approved.

Rob didn’t look round. He didn’t need to. He could sense the two sets of eyes on his back; they were almost scorching him. Taking his time to fill the second bottle, the ranger thought the situation through.

Two of them, both hot totty. One a blonde, one a redhead. One English. One American. A tasty combination. Their bulky winter coats, sensible walking trousers and boots didn’t give much away, but he was willing to bet that once all the layers were off, they would be a sight to behold. He could be wrong, he supposed, but maybe…

Rob replied to Kate’s question. ‘I like it well enough, hen. I ken it’s quiet, but I like peace and quiet.’

‘So, you don’t get… lonely, then?’ Kate knew she was being blatant, but she didn’t care. If she could pull this off, it would be the perfect holiday present for her friend. Stacie, her mouth dry with anticipation, stepped forward. Pulling off her gloves to reveal pale hands with violently clashing purple nail-varnished tips, she took the full bottles from Rob’s hands. Making certain her fingers brushed his as she did so.

‘Thank you,’ Stacie purred as she passed one of the bottles to her partner. The tacit standoff that followed as tension rippled through the small office room-cum-workshop was eventually broken by Rob.

‘Would you lassies like something to warm you up before you go?’ His sentence, delivered in a deadpan tone, could have been suggesting something as mundane as sharing of a mug of hot chocolate, but his sparkling eyes hinted at so much more.

Stacie’s pulse quickened as Kate casually replied, ‘Well, if it’s not too much trouble, that would be lovely.’ Another normal sentence, but packed with enough eyelash-fluttering that she might as well have screamed out ‘Fuck us now!’

‘I was about to light the fire.’ Rob knelt at a small grate, already neatly piled with kindling. ‘Perhaps you’d like to lose your jackets for a while. When this takes, this place gets pretty hot.’

The girls’ eyes were drawn to the hopping, spluttering flames. They threw their coats over their backpacks, which they’d already dumped by the front door.

Taking his time with the fire, the ranger didn’t stir from where he crouched until it had taken to his satisfaction, and was smoking nicely up the chimney. Then, with a measured movement, he stood and faced his guests, who with unspoken agreement had divested themselves of far more than just their coats. Somehow Rob managed to keep his face passive as his eyes travelled from the top of each girl’s head down to their toes.

They stood naked. Holding hands. So, lovers in their own right, then. Nice. He smiled. It had been over fifteen years since he’d been with two women at the same time. A memory that kept him warm during the dark winter days and nights as he guarded the woodland and its wildlife.

Deciding against comment, Rob took a silent moment to choose which girl he’d treat rough and which one he’d simply treat. Then, with a pace that neither girl would have associated with the man whose previous movements had been so controlled and steady, he stripped...

Buy The Collector now, or read as part of your Kindle Unlimited subscription: http://getbook.at/thecollector

Bio

For over a decade Kay Jaybee has lived a nomadic existence across the British Isles, collecting stories as she travels.

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO

Kay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee wrote The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (The Perfect Submissive, The Retreat, Knowing Her Place, Xcite 2011-14), The New Room, (Xcite, 2015), The Voyeur, (Xcite 2012), Making Him Wait (Sweetmeats, 2012), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress, 2013.

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk 

You can follow Kay on

Twitter

Facebook

Goodreads

Brit Babes Site

Kay also writes contemporary romance as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk 

Show Me, Sir by Sonni de Soto @sonni_de @SinfulPress #romance #BDSM

Show Me, Sir

 by Sonni de Soto
 

This novel contains explicit sexual scenes including bondage and voyeurism. 

 Blurb:

Max Wells is a ball-busting, ass-kicking testament to female empowerment, who’s yet to meet the person who can push her down.

Until she meets a man she only knows as Sir.

Shamelessly deviant, Hayato knows exactly what Max thinks of Dominants like him. So ready to dismiss his lifestyle, she’s the type to assume she knows everything about it and him after one cursory glance from the outside in. But, looking at Max—at her intelligence and passion—he can see more in her than the misconceptions she’s deliberately blinding herself with.

And, determined, he plans to show her more.

Max and Hayato engage in a dance of wit, will, and seduction as they negotiate roles, rewrite rules, and learn the true meaning of empowerment.

But, just as their game heats up, it gets used against them. Seeking to punish them with their play, someone threatens to drag their private lives out into the public spotlight.

With high stakes and bitter scandal looming over their heads, Max and her Sir will have to work together to show that what the world thinks they are does not define who they are.

Excerpt:

“I’m looking at you, Max.” She watched his firm mouth – his tongue and teeth – form the words. “I like looking at you.” His smooth voice flowed over her senses. “I want to touch you.”

Her breath caught and her eyes opened wide.

Okay, too much. That was way too much.

Having him there, having him watch her, felt wicked and dangerous and was toeing an erotic line that Max had never known.

She couldn’t imagine what having him touch her would be like.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“You said you wouldn’t,” she reminded him, wavering between want and worry.

“I said I wouldn’t pay to do so,” he clarified, his hand reaching out to stroke a fallen strand of her vibrant hair. “When I touch you, it won’t be for any other reason than I want to and you want me to as well.” Curling the strand around his fingers, he tested its texture and feel. “Tell me you want me to.”

She shivered. It didn’t feel safe – him behind her, fully dressed while she was half-naked. It didn’t feel safe to be in a room full of mirrors with Hallie somewhere in the store. It was frightening and intense. Frightening because it was so intense.

“Imagine it.” He let his hand slide through the thick mass of her hair. “Think about how good it’ll be when I place my hands all over your soft body. Think about how wet I can make you, not just slick but soaked.” He paused, his gaze stroking south. “You’re already more than halfway there, aren’t you?” He leaned in close, his hot breath caressing the delicate, sensitive curve of her ear. “Just say the words. Tell me what we both know you want.”

God, she did. God help her, she wanted this man to touch her, to stroke her, to fuck her. He made her body feel weak with need and consumed by mindless desire. She wanted him to touch. She wanted to touch. She wanted to strip and be stripped and to drown in the promise his hot gaze held.

“Say it.”

She wanted to. So badly.

She opened her mouth. “No.”

She wanted him, everything he was offering her, so much her body hummed with it.

And it scared her.

What kind of woman – what kind of modern, independent, strong, and smart woman – was she that she would let him have this much power over her? Was a word away from becoming a puddle of sexual putty in his hands? He was turning her into something she’d spent her entire life rejecting.

What was wrong with her?

Her attention snapped back, her worry turning into panic, then an unexpectedly feral snarl, low and perilous, rumbled deep in his throat. She flinched, afraid to look at him. Afraid to move or speak or breathe while the beast inside the man clenched.

She’d never felt so naked, so vulnerable and helpless, in her life.

Finally, she braved a look up, readying herself for his ire, sure he would storm ahead or storm away.

But he just nodded stiffly, his face and body held rigidly in control. She watched his nostrils flare and a muscle in his jaw tick. The fire in his eyes burned even as cold ice hardened them. They narrowed on her predatorily.

Slowly, each movement precise and exact, he reached inside his jacket, pulling another sheet from his pocket. Holding it up like a dare, he said in a low, calm, articulated voice, “Touch yourself.”

 

 Author bio:

 

Sonni de Soto is an Asian kinkster of color, who loves and lives the lifestyle when she can. Her work involves The Taming School and Show Me, Sir, as well as stories in Between the Shores: Erotica With Consent and The First Annual Geeky Kink Anthology. Like any good nerd, she loves learning new and interesting things about science, art, culture, and, of course, sex and love. She’s always thrilled to hear from readers.

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