Friday, May 26, 2017

Shane: Marshal of Tallav Sci-fi Romance First Chapter Friday

I can't believe I haven't shared the first chapter of Shane: Marshal of Tallav with the Romance Writers Behaving Badly Blog's readers. I'm correcting that omission today while both novels in the Sons of Tallav sci-fi erotic romance series is on sale at Loose Id. You can get both books for $2 off the regular price.


Shane: Marshal of Tallav
Sons of Tallav Series #1
Cailin Briste
Publisher: Loose Id
Pub date: May 31, 2016
Science fiction erotic romance

Duty has made Shane Tiernan’s life miserable leaving him desperate for relief. Satisfaction arrives in the form of a long legged paid submissive whose bottom is made for spanking. He’ll do anything to keep her bound and under him.

Blurb:
Shane Tiernan, the Beast of Tallavan aristocratic society, needs relief from the matriarchal rules that are destroying his life. His hope lies in a female submissive, newly graduated from a top sex school. From her resume, she seems perfect. Profile and real life collide when he arrives to collect her. He’s stunned when he spots her vaulting over a bar and snatching up an ice chipper to defend herself against the giant who is chasing her. Her combination of warrior spirit and long-limbed curves fires his Dom imagination and the desire to bind her in his rope and have her under his complete control.

Adrianna Pacquin is sexually submissive, but don’t cross her outside the bedroom. She’s escaped the crime lord who plans to marry her once before. When it becomes clear he’s still after her, she doesn’t intend to get caught. A fortuitous decision to accept the contract of Tallavan Marshal Shane Tiernan promises safety until an attempt to murder him sets the pair on an investigation that will require complete trust in one another. With danger stalking their every step, the secrets they both hide could implode their blooming relationship and leave them exposed to their relentless foe.

Chapter One

Adrianna sat, the picture of training excellence: spine straight, hands folded neatly in her lap, knees clasped together, feet flat on the floor. A slight whiff of musk and leather overlaid with a hint of something metallic stung her nose. The Frau’s personal fragrance was a scent memory that triggered a desire to scrunch into a tight ball and scream herself hoarse. It was a reaction Adrianna had not succumbed to since the first of many lessons with the Frau. The sweat inching its way down Adrianna’s back was the only outward expression of her struggle to stay unruffled, poised, and confident. She hoped even that wasn’t obvious to Frau Heinrich, who along with Adrianna’s mentor, Master Trey, was conducting her exit interview.

Although the woman seemed to live on the scent of fear, Adrianna was damned if she’d let her visceral response oblige Frau Heinrich. No. Adrianna managed to breathe, projecting calm. She mentally checked the time on her Electronic Biological CoServer again. Please make this brief. This interview with the intimidating, polished blonde was the last item on Adrianna’s required checklist before leaving the Opio Institute to meet her new employer.

“I don’t know whether Master Trey”—the Frau made a tiny moue after spitting out the name—“has told you, but one of the offers you spurned was resubmitted. The terms would repay your Opio loans completely. If you like, I’d be happy to assist you in breaking your current contract and accepting this offer.”

Master Trey bristled. He wasn’t required to come to this meeting, but he’d insisted. He filled any room he entered with his presence, a phenomenon for which his bulk wasn’t the sole cause. Frau Heinrich’s last statement had elicited his heated stare and intensified his air of dominance.

“That is not appropriate.” He shot a glance at Adrianna. “We eliminated that offer for reasons other than money.”

Adrianna’s eyes had widened despite her efforts to remain expressionless. The infighting between Master Trey and the Frau was often grist for the gossip mill at the Opio. Rumor had it Master Trey had pushed the board to rescind Heinrich’s right to mentor students. With no desire to get between the two, Adrianna nodded, keeping her eyes on Master Trey, waiting for the icy viciousness that was Frau Heinrich’s trademark to respond.

“Trying to be helpful, Trey—dear. Nothing sinister.”

Frozen crystals filled Adrianna’s veins when Frau Heinrich’s attention turned to her. Everything about the Frau was sinister, especially offers of help.

Adrianna responded to Heinrich’s offer with as neutral a tone as she could. “I have a signed contract. It would be unethical to break it.” If the woman already hated Adrianna for being Master Trey’s mentee, why worry about offending her now? The Frau couldn’t stop her from graduating. Adrianna’s paperwork and accounts were all in order. The supposed point of this interview was to confirm that fact. Why couldn’t Heinrich just do her job?

The Frau’s eyes narrowed. “You seem so very tense, my dear.”

“Get on with it.” Trey’s voice was a guttural rumble.

The Frau’s teeth clicked shut. She bared them and hissed her response through them. “Don’t push me.”

Her civilized veneer settled back into place. “Adrianna, you doubtless understand that the premium paid for your special service will not apply to future contracts. Therefore, it would be to your advantage to learn as much as you can from your new employer and return to test with the Masters for additional sexual certification.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Frau Heinrich continued, her voice a steady acidic drip. “Since you are a true submissive with mild masochistic tendencies, you are fortunate a Tallavan marshal holds your contract. We are always pleased to place our students with a marshal from Tallav. They’re such an exclusive club of men.”

Not a club, but exclusive? Yes. Only a man from Tallav could be a marshal. Wasn’t there a historical reason? If she was going to be contracted to a marshal, she should probably find out. And what was with the Frau’s sarcasm? Another mind fuck?

The Frau’s voice drew Adrianna back. “They take excellent care of all those under their control. You can expect him to be a forceful dominant but always mindful of your well-being. A marshal’s calling is to serve and protect; he states he is not a…sadist.”

The muscles in Adrianna’s torso clamped down on a shudder. Despite the information she had been given about her future employer, he was still an unknown. Her potential Master had started as a dream with all the accompanying fancies of perfection. The closer he came to her reality, the more dark possibilities impinged on her fantasy. Today she would meet him. The Frau, true to her sadistic nature, was picking at Adrianna’s aversion to sadists, hoping for a painful reaction.

Trey reached out and took Adrianna’s hand, squeezing it. Adrianna squeezed back and then released it. It was time to stand on her own two feet again. Master Trey was protective, but he wouldn’t always be available to fight her battles. She’d allowed him to coddle her because it made him happy. That respite had come to an end, and he needed to realize it as much as she did. She braced herself to turn her focus on Frau Heinrich, who pinned her with glacial eyes before continuing with a smirk.

“He will expect you to function as his assistant as well as his companion. Such a lot of responsibilities. The possibility for failure…” Heinrich waved a hand in the air, allowing Adrianna to finish the statement in her mind.

With effort, Adrianna kept from narrowing her eyes. “Yes, Mistress. I also completed studies in ship administration and supply, and basic maintenance and housekeeping for small space vehicles. Before coming to Beta Tau, I was already a certified low-orbit shuttle pilot and emergency med tech.”

Frau Heinrich’s voice scraped across Adrianna’s nerves like the slender fillet knife she liked to drag along the skin of her bound students. “Yes, I’m sure all these extra abilities helped secure you the position. Nevertheless, you understand that you will be meeting his sexual needs also, and do not doubt that if you fail in that arena, you can expect to be released from your contract and dropped at the closest station. In that eventuality, please come see me. I’m certain I could help you find your…true calling.”

Master Trey gave a soft growl.

Adrianna couldn’t stop from checking the time again. She steeled herself by looking at the picture behind and to the right of the Frau. It was a painting of smiling children. How very odd. Silence stilled the room. Did I miss a question? When she looked, the Frau’s sneer had faded, and she was businesslike once again.

“The paperwork for your debt repayment appears to be in order. I see you’ve opted to make quarterly payments. Hmmm.” She smiled. Adrianna didn’t trust that smile. “You’ve also made a substantial prepayment. If more girls came to us as unsullied”—her smile became a smirk, showing a glimmer of white teeth—“as you, my dear, they would benefit from paying down their loan by almost a full year. How lovely for you.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Adrianna was ready to leave and never see Frau Heinrich again.

“Will you be meeting the marshal on the space station?”

The question confused Adrianna. It was the kind of thing a friend might ask. Frau Heinrich was no friend. “No, I’m—”

“Don’t answer that, Adrianna.” Master Trey’s interruption was accompanied by a heated glare at the Frau.

With pinched lips, the Frau ignored his comment, focusing on Adrianna. “Do you have any questions?”

“No, Mistress.” Adrianna kept her face blank. Please finish. To her surprise, the Frau did. Perhaps because Master Trey was there. If he hadn’t been, the Frau would have drawn out the interview for the pleasure of tormenting Adrianna.

Once outside the Frau’s office, Master Trey asked her to come with him. He shut the door to his own office behind him and motioned her to sit. The room was a reflection of the man. Most of it was taken up by an arrangement of two oversize plush armchairs and a side table. The desk, standard in other instructors’ offices, was missing. A vidscreen on one soft green wall was the only accommodation to the need for record keeping. Emotionally charged images of Masters and submissives hung in rows in the remaining space. In the corner stood a spanking bench.

Rather than sitting, he balanced on the edge of the table, looming large above her, arms crossed over his chest.

“Adrianna, you are probably the most trusting individual I know. You’re submissive to the bone. It’s something I like about you, but it also scares the hell out of me.”

Adrianna attempted to digest that statement. The point of her studies at the Opio was to train her to become a professional submissive, able to adapt to any Master who held her contract. Part of that had been learning how to create a relationship of trust between Master and submissive. Wasn’t that the ideal they were all supposed to achieve? Her confusion must have shown on her face.

“Let me give you an example from today’s interview. You don’t always keep personal information to yourself. You need to be better about not telling people things that don’t concern them. Frau Heinrich had no valid reason to know your travel itinerary today. What the hell business was it of hers where you were meeting the marshal?”

He sighed and dropped his hands to his hips. “Trust needs to be earned. You offer it up to anyone you think is nice and some you hope will be nice.”

Her lips pressed together, she struggled to figure out what Master Trey wanted from her. Wasn’t it trusting him that had brought her to the Opio in the first place? Where would she be if she hadn’t trusted him? “But…”

“You would have told the Frau where you were meeting the marshal. And although she has access to the record of the classes you took at the Opio, she didn’t know you are a shuttle pilot and med tech. She’s exactly someone you shouldn’t trust. She may work for the Opio, but she has connections to some unsavory people.”

Adrianna wrinkled her forehead.

“Does that surprise you? It shouldn’t. You trusted her because she works for the Opio even though you’re aware she’s deeply twisted. Assume the worst until proven otherwise. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” She bit her lip, worrying it while her mind chewed on Master Trey’s advice. Trust the Frau? No, it wasn’t trust that made her respond to the woman’s questions. It was the combination of Heinrich’s position at the Institute and her shrewd display of dominance.

Trey sighed and scooped her hand into his. “I’m going to worry about you no matter what. I want you to be careful. I fully expect your contract with the marshal to work out. But things happen. I’m here if you ever need me. Message me. Okay?”

“Yes. Thank you, Sir.” Adrianna tightened her fingers around his.

“We haven’t discussed how you’ll use your empathic senses once you leave the Institute.” He moved to squat in front of her. “Don’t tell anyone about your abilities or that you were born on Preatiens. People will use you for their own ends. Even nice people.” Trey placed a finger under her chin and stared intently into her eyes. “That means the marshal too. Don’t tell him. You’ve lived here at the Opio, blocking your empathic gift. It’s in your best interest to continue doing so. Promise me.”

Adrianna felt the full force of his personality behind the concern of his words. “I understand what you’ve said, and for the most part I agree with you.”

Master Trey’s chin dipped, and his eyes narrowed.

She continued. “I appreciate you want to keep me safe, but it’s time for me to make my own decisions. So far I think I’ve done pretty well.”

After a moment of hesitation, Trey nodded. “You have—”

Adrianna held up a hand. “I’m making only one modification to your advice. I’m not going to block my empathic senses. At least not routinely. I won’t disclose I have them and I will be careful how I use them, but they’re a tool. They’ll help me protect myself.”

Trey sighed. “I can live with that change.”

Adrianna smiled. “I’ll comm you regularly.”

“Good.” He stood and pulled her up into a hug. “Be safe.” He kissed her forehead, turned her, and with a hand on her bottom, pushed her toward the door.

When she opened it, Adrianna looked over her shoulder, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “Good-bye, Sir.”

* * * *

Shane gritted his teeth in lieu of snapping at the clerk to hurry up. Filing his request to have his leave reinstated was supposed to be quicker in person, but the man’s methodical attention to detail was edging close to burning through the time advantage. Fuck. The muscles in his neck were tightening; he needed to relax before he got a throbbing headache.

The air in the Beta Tau Marshals Service Office was tinged with the odors of burned café, sweat, and noxious food choices. Nevertheless, eyelids clamped shut and head tipped back, he filled his lungs to the brim. After a moment, he dropped his chin to his chest, releasing the deep breath with a whoosh.

“Hard day?”

Shane opened his eyes to find the man peering at him. “Something like that. We done here?”

The clerk gave a nod. “Yes, your leave status is reinstated. If there’s anything else I can do for you, let me know.”

“Thanks.” When Shane turned to depart, he heard his name called.

“Tiernan. What the hell are you doing here?”

To Shane’s right stood an old friend. “Riordan. I knew you were back with the service. I didn’t realize you were stationed on Beta Tau.”

Riordan shrugged. “Yeah… Not my first choice. You have time to talk?”

“Sure.” Shane nodded, noticing how much weight his friend had lost since last seeing him.

“My office is at the end here.”

Shane followed. If only he could say something that would make things better. Paul Riordan’s wife had died six months ago, and the toll the loss was taking on him showed in his slumped shoulders.

Riordan’s office was an orderly arrangement of leftovers from previous inhabitants. Shane sat, elbows on his knees, in a worn-out chair, twining his fingers together and gazing straight at Riordan. His friend slouched, dark smudges under his flat-brown eyes.

Shane asked, “How’re you doing?”

Riordan didn’t respond immediately, instead rubbing the heel of his palm across his chest, staring vacantly at a sector map on the wall.

Finally, he spoke. “Better, I guess. At least that’s what the docs tell me. Told me I had to go on meds to get reinstated. Still can’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” That simple statement was the best Shane could do. Well-intentioned people had nearly choked him with their platitudes when his brother died. He wouldn’t do that to Riordan.

“Thanks. They say time heals all wounds. They must be idiots.” Riordan huffed and shrugged a shoulder. “Enough about me. What are you doing on Beta Tau?”

“I was on my way here on vacation. I got waylaid to run courier duty since I was coming to Beta Tau anyway. But I’m officially back on leave. I’m actually…” Riordan was the first person Shane had considered telling, beyond his best friend, Maon, about hiring an assistant. Fuck it… Tell him. It will be undeniable once the woman is with you. “I’m picking up my new assistant.” He ducked his head, waiting for what he’d said to register fully.

When it did, the sound of Riordan’s low chuckle was followed by the obvious question. “A Beta Tau assistant?”

Shane sat back, lifted his chin, and glared at Riordan. “Not my idea. Maon’s.” The words I am not a lecher hung on his lips. But fuck if he felt he had to prove anything.

“That sounds like Maon, but are you sure he was serious? You know Maon.”

“We’ve been friends a long time. So yeah, I do know Maon. And he was serious. He thinks I need someone a little more…” Shane grunted while he now focused on the sector map hanging on the wall. “Permanent…for my…” Shane’s lips twitched when he returned his gaze to Riordan and held up his hand. “His words, not mine—’romantic needs.’ She’s a graduate of the Opio Institute.”

“Hmmmpf. Rumor has you with Ceana Kendrith. I knew that couldn’t be right. No one in their right mind would go anywhere near that Tallavan she-devil.”

Shane scratched the back of his neck and looked away. The gossipmongers on Tallav must be having a heyday. “Actually, I’ve contracted with her for a child.”

“That evil witch?” Riordan’s question made Shane wince. “I appreciate that your mother needs a female heir, but isn’t there someone else that could carry a baby for you?”

Shane returned his gaze to Riordan and shrugged. “We’re a founding family. My mother expects me to marry a Tallavan aristocrat. This is my alternative. My dad would raise the baby.” Marrying and raising a Tallavan aristocrat’s babies was supposed to be the ideal all Tallavan men longed for. Shane didn’t and never had, but Riordan was one of those husbands who’d found happiness in a Tallavan marriage. Shane’s own dream of happiness involved collaring the right submissive. Any Tallavan woman he collared would be ostracized. No woman dared admit to being dominated, even in the bedroom. He’d never made a point of hiding his predilections, so the gossips would assume the worst of any lady he was connected to. The Tallavan worst, allowing a man control over her. Not his. For now, he endured Ceana.

Riordan looked like he’d swallowed something nasty. “But Ceana Kendrith?”

Memories of interminable hours spent attending society functions, courting, even bedding the cream of Tallavan—aristocratic, unmarried women—only to be spurned by all flashed through Shane’s mind. “I got no other takers. Ceana needs the money. So yeah, that evil witch. She’s working it for maximum torture.”

“Talking to that bitch would be agony, but you don’t have to live with her while she carries the child.” Riordan shook his head while he fidgeted with a loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Oh, you don’t know the half of her wickedness. She insisted on natural conception.”

“Shite, that is evil.” Riordan flicked his gaze up to Shane and rubbed his fingers over his chin.

“A fucking nightmare.” Shane’s fists clenched. Pounding something wouldn’t be productive, but it would feel fucking good. He forced himself to relax, unclenching his hands.

“Okay. I officially pity you.” A weak smile played along Riordan’s lips.

“Four months, and even considering a fifth makes me sick to my stomach.” The chair squeaked when Shane shifted his weight.

Riordan’s head jerked back. “She isn’t pregnant yet? You tested her, right?”

Shane glared despite his resolve to keep his turmoil below the surface. “Of course. I wouldn’t go near that woman if she wasn’t fertile.”

“Fate sure screwed with us. Bollocks! I’d give anything to be back on Tallav, raising kids with my wife. And fate’s forced you to have a child when all you want is to be a marshal.”

The two men sat quietly for a while, absorbing that thought. Finally Riordan snorted. “So tell me about your new assistant. I can see why Maon suggested one.”

* * * *

Adrianna restrained her desire to pirouette. She was free. Free to live her life. And, damn it, free to twirl if she wanted to twirl. No one and nothing but her own sense of propriety was stopping her. So she twirled and then looked around her, a little light-headed at her own audacity. She’d probably not be able to twirl in public once she was with the marshal, but right now she could.

No more of the Institute’s regimentation. She would miss Master Trey. He’d been so good to her after rescuing her from Furzine and the Benefactor’s attempt to coerce her into marriage. Master Trey’s help with her postgraduate contract negotiations had been immense.

She’d chosen a Tallavan marshal. His payment would cover half her debt, and if he extended for additional years, she’d be debt-free in three. She did a happy dance and giggled. Her EBC verified that she was still on the mapped path to the spaceport bar where she was meeting him. Marshal Shane Tiernan. She turned the corner of the pedestrian corridor onto the main access way that led to the shuttle concourses and ran smack into a man coming the opposite direction. The reek of body odor hit her nose when her face mashed against the dark shipsuit that covered his lean chest. With a startled sound, she began to apologize but found herself drawn backward into the corridor, the man’s rough hands gouging into her upper arms.

“Please excuse me, miss. Allow me to make certain I haven’t harmed you.” His tone was unctuous, but his grip was brutal.

“I’m fine. Really quite fine,” Adrianna bleated, struggling against his hold while he steered her toward a long, dim service alley. She really didn’t want him touching her, and she needed to free herself before the encounter grew ugly.

“There’s a bench down that hallway. Let me take you to it so you can rest and recover.”

Ahead there was no bench, but neither was the service alley empty. Another larger man waited at the end. Broad as he was tall, solid but not fat, he looked like he’d spent a lot of time in a heavy-gravity gym. He had more muscle in one of his arms than in her entire body. Worse, he was looking at her as though she were the last piece of homemade apple pie. Not good.

Her shoes found no purchase on the polished floor. With a twist, she attempted to free herself. Pain lanced through her shoulder when her wiry captor yanked her back. Her heart was thudding a mantra of danger. Escape. She had to get away before they reached the bigger thug. Think. You’ve had defense training. What are you supposed to do? The man had given up politely propelling her and was outright pushing. With a flash of insight, she let her whole body go limp and cried, “Oh, maybe you’re right. I am a little overwhelmed.”

The man’s fingers slipped while he struggled to keep her from sliding out of his grip. Adrianna smashed her palm into his chin, pain exploding in her wrist and down her arm. The blow staggered him, allowing her to wrench herself from his hold. He bellowed curses harmlessly after her while she scrambled away.

An adrenaline boost sped her on her way. The goal—head as quickly as possible to the bar and grill where she was meeting the marshal. The thudding footsteps of the second man sprinting to catch her sounded closer. How can a guy that size run so fast? While she ran along the concourse, people browsing in shops turned to stare. Six shop lengths had never seemed so long. At last, eyes focused on the interior of the bar and the patrons seated there, she barreled into it, narrowly avoiding the waist-high railing that separated the tables and chairs from the open concourse. Please let the marshal be early!

She frantically scanned the bar. None of the faces of the customers turning to her resembled the marshal even a little.

Oh gods. Her pursuer was nearly here. She grabbed hold of the edge of the polished wooden bar top. A quick flip and she was over, landing on her feet on the other side. A frantic search for a weapon amid the barware and liquor bottles led her to an ice chipper. The bartender charged toward her, demanding in loud, angry tones that he get out from behind his bar. When she snatched up the chipper, bolstered by the solid handle in her grip and sharp tines pointing up, he pulled to a stop and raised his hands in capitulation. His reaction surprised her. For an instant, she paused, blinked and shook her head then turned in time to see the man chasing her slide into the entrance. With the commotion and everyone staring at her, it didn’t take long for him to move in her direction.

Adrianna settled into a stance, prepared to defend herself. Her focus rigidly set on her pursuer, she resisted the urge to lower her defensive posture when a voice rumbled, “What is going on in here?”

Every head but the assailant’s turned to look while Adrianna continued to stare at her attacker, frozen in a motionless tableau. “Marshal Tiernan?” Adrianna blurted, her voice squeaky.

A change washed over the thug’s body. He relaxed his stance and wheedled, “Miss, I think you dropped this, and I wanted to return it to you.” He pulled a credit chip from his pocket and held it out to her.

“Thank you. Put it on the bar,” she responded, watching him closely.

As he did, he gave the marshal a smarmy smile, then slid out the exit and was gone.

Adrianna slumped. The breath she didn’t know she’d been holding whooshed from her lungs. “Here’s your chipper.” She stretched what she hoped was a disarming smile across her face when she handed the tool back to the bartender.

Mouth hanging open, the bartender took the chipper. “Thanks.” He rotated, staring at her while she scooted past him and made her way through the swing-top entrance at the other end of the bar.

Oh shit. A darted glance informed her the marshal was standing, arms folded over his chest, waiting for her. The desire to run washed through her. She filled her lungs with a deep breath and resisted the impulse, resolutely walking toward him, opting to keep her eyes lowered. When his boots came in sight, she slowly lifted her gaze, soaking in the details of the man planted like a mountain in front of her. Her initial impression of well-muscled male was confirmed. More than confirmed. What she saw below his belt… Mmm, some things just couldn’t be tucked away and hidden. She felt her cheeks heating and continued her upward perusal. When her inspection reached his face, she met the brightest pair of blue eyes she had ever seen. Unable to put one rational thought behind another, she blinked and succumbed to drowning in fathomless azure pools until they filled her entire vision.

“I asked, are you all right?”

She blinked. The blue eyes have a voice? “Y-yes. Just a bit shaken. My wrist is a little sore.” She wiggled it, puzzled.

“You must be Adrianna Pacquin.”

He was staring down at her. Pull. Yourself. Together. “Yes, I am.” She winced. “I’m so happy to meet you.”
“Hmmm. Well, I don’t think we should continue this conversation here,” he said with a meaningful glance over her shoulder. The bar patrons were still watching them with interest. “Follow me.”

The marshal spun toward the exit. “Don’t forget your credit chip.”

Adrianna scurried back to the bar top, snatched it up, and with a sheepish smile, plunked it into the bartender’s tip jar. It was the least she could do. She rushed to catch up with the marshal, who was already heading down the concourse in the direction she’d come.
“Damn.” Where was her satchel? She brought a hand to her brow when the realization hit her that it had dropped when the man grabbed her.

“Is there something else?” Shane sent a distracted look back at her.

Adrianna tensed. “I lost my satchel. It must be around the corner. I hope.” When they neared the turn, she clenched her hands. Everything she had taken before she fled home was in that bag, including her identity card and the data cube with her official contract. What was she going to do if they were gone?

“Is this it?” He pointed to her dark leather satchel, sitting open and empty next to a messy pile of her extra clothes, toiletries, and keepsakes.

“Yes, that’s it.” She gave a wobbly laugh, flicking a pair of panties back into the bag. While she sorted through the items, she inventoried her belongings. The only thing missing was her mother’s silver locket. It was irreplaceable. Her shoulders hunched, but at least her ID and contract weren’t gone. With shaky fingers, she finished cramming everything inside, zipped the satchel closed, pulled the strap over her arm, and stood.

With his intense blue eyes concentrated on her, he scowled with toe-curling force. Composure, composure, composure, she chanted rhythmically to her favorite Bach Invention. Bach always steadied her. Time for her to be still and wait for Marshal Tiernan’s direction.

“Come.” The command was terse. Adrianna fell into a jog to keep up with him, not wanting to further his apparent frustration.

Stalk Cailin All Over the Interwebs

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Excerpt from Love, Passion and Power: Part 1 It's FREE!

Love, Passion and Power: Part 1


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Excerpt 

He reached under the covers and pulled my legs until I slid back down and then he rolled on top of me. “But enough about that, I’m sure we can think of more interesting ways to occupy ourselves than talking about James and his crazy ex.”
I smiled and lunged forward, capturing his bottom lip between my teeth. He growled and rocked us until we rolled and I was on top.
“I want you to put the condom on.” He grinned, reaching over to the nightstand and tearing one off of the strip.
I took it from him and opened up the package. Straddling his nakedness and taking his hard, beautiful cock into my hands I started to stroke him. He was silky smooth, with a shiny dark purple head and thick roping veins that coursed around his shaft, pulsing his life force through him. I pinched the tip of the condom and placed it onto the crown.
“Uh, uh, uh!” he tutted. “No hands!”
I smiled and rolled my eyes. “Feet then?”
A salacious twinkle in his eyes had me giggling. “Whatever, but no hands.”
I inched downwards on his body so that I could hunch over him and roll the condom on with my mouth. Pinching the tip with my lips and leaning over, I placed the opening of the nasty tasting prophylactic on the head of his cock. Using my hands to angle him just right I slowly opened my mouth and took him inside while rolling the condom down over his length with the help of my tongue. It wasn’t easy, it took some maneuvering and tongue acrobatics, but eventually, I got it on, deep throating him to take it to the base.
I sat up and grinned in triumph, but his eyes were closed while a smile danced on his kissable lips. I scooted forward and rose up, positioning my wet cleft above him, he still didn’t open his eyes.
I him notched at my core and started to swirl the tip around my entrance. He still didn’t open his eyes. Finally, I sunk down, taking him snuggly inside me, squeezing him the whole way down. Only then did I get a reaction. A low, masculine moan rolled up from his chest, like the sound a male lion makes right before he pounces. His hands came up and encircled my hips, his eyes remained closed, but he began to buck up and into me.
“Oh… yes.”
He groaned, kneading my hips with strong fingers, urging me to go faster and take him deeper. I placed my hands on his chest for leverage and began to ride him, up and down, his thickness stretching me, hitting me deep, deep inside. I bit my lip and tilted my head back while he brought one of his hands up to caress and massage my breast. He twisted the nipple until I squeaked out in pleasure, picking up the pace and riding him harder.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said with a grunt, lifting his hips to meet mine.

My body fell forward, and I pressed against him, my hair falling in a cascade all around us, enclosing our faces in a curtain just our own. He cupped my cheek and pulled me into a kiss. The orgasm took me by surprise, crashing into my body like a kite in a hurricane. Reckless and all consuming it ricocheted from the tips of my toes right up to the top of my head and back. Biting Justin’s shoulder, I cried out his name until the sublime sensation passed, rendering me limp and boneless. Seconds later he found his own release and ground himself against me, pumping furiously and calling out my name with uninhibited joy.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Fun in the Sun Multi-Author #Giveaway! #Win #Kindle Fires & #Amazon #Giftcards


Authors from the Romance community invite you to our 
FUN IN THE SUN 
MULTI-AUTHOR EVENT

Prizes include:
  2 Kindle Fires
$50 Amazon Gift Card
$25 Amazon Gift Card
3 - $10 Amazon Gift Card
 Enter here:

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Maon Can't Refuse a Challenge - A Sons of Tallav Tease

Both Sons of Tallav books are on sale now at Loose Id for $4.99. To celebrate, I'm posting a glimpse at Maon for my May Tuesday tease.


Excerpt:
The G-string Maon wore was riding up and annoying him. He squirmed, wishing he could reach back and scratch. Randolph liked a show, so Maon put the friggin’ thing on as well as black leather pants. Face it. Shaking his booty for the ladies was fun. One little performance and women would chase him for days. They went for his choirboy good looks and his bad-boy smiles. He chuckled. The Whip Hand was a great place to find kinky women.

First he had to beat Randolph’s challenge. He winced at the remembered ache in his nuts when he considered the possibilities that Randolph would employ in his latest predicament bondage scene. No doubt about it. Randolph always devised some new method of torture. Maon sneaked his hand down to cup his balls, giving them a little stroke of comfort. Someday he’d put Randolph in predicament bondage, and they’d see who the better man was.

Like that would ever happen. Despite his ordinary, nondescript looks, Randolph, owner of the Whip Hand, had a charisma that mesmerized even the most difficult people into doing exactly what he willed. Not that Maon needed mesmerizing to take up Randolph’s gauntlet. They were friends, and when Randolph had needed someone to help in a predicament bondage scene, Maon had been hesitant to assist him. After all, what was in it for Maon? He wasn’t into Randolph, and he didn’t like pain. When Randolph turned it into a challenge with a hot female sub as a prize, Maon’s reluctance had evaporated. Now it was a given that Randolph would offer Maon a new sadistic challenge whenever Maon made it to Beta Tau. The public play space was already crowded with tourists of every stripe, from lifestyle kinksters to the merely curious. The Whip Hand was a place to indulge your fantasies or explore new possibilities. Only the serious-minded would complete the security registration that allowed them to enter the private play space and individual rooms beyond the public areas. Maon spotted Randolph heading toward him. A woman who looked familiar to Maon was following him, but she darted into the locker room before he could get a good look at her. He turned back to the scene he’d been watching.

“You ready?” Randolph asked when he strode up to where Maon was observing a younger man using a single tail to make a submissive shriek in fear. With each crack, she screamed even though the whip had yet to touch her.

“He’s good,” Maon said.

Randolph crossed his arms over his chest. “Trained him myself.”

“What? Mind fucks or the whip?”

“Both actually.” Randolph’s face lit with a smirk. “We’re over here.” He pointed to another of the small stages around the edge of the room. “I gave Shane the main stage. He’s got some plan to tie eight subs together in a ball.”

As Maon approached, he noticed a woman some would call chubby, but he thought of as lush, sitting on the top step.

“Kaylee, this is Maon. Maon, Kaylee. She’s generously agreed to be your prize if you win.” Randolph gave Kaylee a heated look.

“Hello, Kaylee.” Maon offered her his panty-melting grin. Her large brown eyes had met his when they were introduced, but the instant he smiled, they lowered.

“Hello, Sir.” A smile tickled her lips.

“I look forward to spending time with you, Kaylee.”

Long dark braids floated around her shoulders and brushed the tops of coffee-colored breasts held snug along with her generous curves in a midnight-blue corset. Her full plum-ripe mouth lifted in a brief curve.

Randolph gave him a tap on the arm. “Stop bragging and get onstage. Strip for the audience. Then stand over by the weights.”

Maon ignored the wicked sneer on Randolph’s face. “Hey, it’s not my fault I cast a shadow across that Dom-master aura you lay on the ladies.”

“In your dreams, prick. Now get moving.”

Maon chuckled and took center stage to start his striptease. A small crowd soon built while he turned slowly, stripping off his leather pants and waggling his ass at them. He bent over at the waist and smoothed his hands along his legs, caressing his butt cheeks before peeling the sides of the thong down. With a twist, he winked over his shoulder and spun. His thumb held the G-string so his cock was pulled down but not showing. After a few more wiggles and thrusts of his hips, he whipped the scrap down and shimmied until it dropped to his ankles. His semierect cock hung long, as did his balls.

A group of lady tourists fought over the scrap of cloth when he kicked it to them. He stood, arms akimbo, shaking his head, waiting for the winner of the scramble to look his way. When she did, raising the G-string in triumph, Maon blew her a kiss with a wink and went to where Randolph had directed.

Randolph slapped him on the ass. “Time to suit up.”

Stalk Cailin All Over the Interwebs
Goodreads | Bookbub | Amazon | 

Monday, May 22, 2017

Excerpt From Love, Passion and Power: Part 1 - It's FREE!

Love, Passion and Power: Part 1


NOW AVAILABLE!

Amazon: https://goo.gl/Ann31a
Kobo: https://goo.gl/PVN9l9
iTunes: https://goo.gl/mSTwiD
B&N: https://goo.gl/wlC5Bf
Google Play: https://goo.gl/7Ss9gl

Excerpt

It was Saturday afternoon and I was busy vacuuming my room. My headphones were on and some Lady Gaga song blasting way too loudly in my ears when a ding and a vibration on my butt interrupted the chorus. I grabbed my phone from my back pocket to see a text message from Justin.        
           
J: What are you doing?

K: Vacuuming. What are you doing?

J: Throw on a bathing suit. I’ll be there in 10.

K: What? Why? Where are we going?

J: It’s a surprise! Be ready! Xoxoxo

K: Justin! Do I need to pack anything else? Where are we going?

            But that was it. He didn’t answer me again. I unplugged the vacuum and began to dig, through my drawers to find my swimming gear. Forced to abandon my plans to start packing and to establish some semblance of order in my messy room. I was just tying the halter of my bikini around my neck when there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.
            “Hey, baby, ready to go?” Justin asked as he came into my room.
            “No! I have no idea where we’re going, how can I be ready?” I ran around my room tossing things that I might need for the day into a small canvas shoulder bag: sunscreen, a water bottle, towel, flip-flops, sunglasses...
            “Or,” he said with a smirk, coming over and placing his hands on my shoulders, “you could just trust me, and go with it. You need to start trusting me.”
            I looked up into his eyes; there was so much mischief dancing in them that I couldn’t help but smile. “Fine. If I burn, it’s your job to rub aloe on me.”
            He grinned, planting a whopper of a kiss on my lips before grabbing my hand and whisking me out the door. “It’s a deal!”
            “Whoa… Whose boat is this?” I asked as we walked along the dock a short while later. Lex and I only lived a few blocks from St. Roch Dock, so it was just a quick drive.
            “Ahoy!” came a familiar voice as James popped up from behind the dark blue canvas.
            “Ahoy!” Justin said with a piratey salute.
“This yours?” I asked James, my eyes going wide as we came up along the big, white floating beast.
            “It is” His was face expressionless. Instead he just gave me a curt nod.
            But I chose not to let him frighten me and offered him a giant smile. “Nice. Thanks for inviting us along.”
            “Come on,” Justin said, helping me climb aboard. “Let’s go spend the day on the water.”
            Giddiness filled me. Besides the ferry and Justin’s speedboat at the cabin, I’d never been on a boat before. I’d never been out on the open ocean. I jumped aboard and found the best seat in the house.
            “Ahoy!” came another familiar voice, this one belonging to Amy. “Is the grumpy captain ready for take-off?”
            James rolled his eyes and helped his sister climb onto the boat, followed by Garret, who seemed to be the designated pack mule.
“Boats don’t ‘take-off,’ they set sail,” he said, with an irritated scowl at his sister. Grumbling under his breath as he started to untie the boat from the dock.
            “Tomato, potato.” She shrugged, grinning at me, her big floppy orange sunhat hitting her brother in the chin as she spun around to try to find a seat. “I don’t see a sail anywhere. Do you see a sail anywhere, Kendra? Because I don’t see a sail.”
            “Amelia! Sit down!” he barked. “And take that stupid hat off!”
            Amy rolled her eyes at me but removed her hat as she found a seat in the back towards the motor. “God, what crawled up your ass and died, you grumpy fuck?” She flashed me a big sassy smile while eyeing up her brother and shaking her head at his cantankerous mood
            I’d jumped when James had raised his voice. It was a tad frightening, and my eyes sought Justin’s for answers. Thankfully, he read my mind and came over, lifting me up and planting me on his lap while he took my seat. He pressed his mouth against my temple. “Ignore James. He’s in a terrible mood. He hasn’t gotten laid in almost two weeks!”
            “It’s called masturbation,” I murmured. “Everyone does it!”
            He smirked against the side of my head and chuckled before turning to James. “Hey buddy, Kendra says you should just go below and rub one out before we leave. I think we’d all feel a bit safer if we knew you weren’t sporting such serious blue balls. Clearly, they’re making you ornery as fuck!”
            Amy belted out a laugh. “As much as I don’t want to think about my brother spanking the monkey I’m inclined to agree. We’ll wait if you need a couple of minutes, bro.”
            “I can bring up some porn on my phone,” Garret said. “Just be sure to wipe it off when you give it back.”
            James shot everyone a warning look, his face dark and fierce as he made his way to the front and behind the wheel. The motor came to life, and the boat started to move, his jaw set tightly with a muscle ticking just below his ear. This man was so tightly wound it was only a matter of time before he snapped. Meanwhile, the rest of us couldn’t help but laugh, he really was a miserable bugger. 

Sunday, May 21, 2017


Dyami Schafer, a Native American from the Chippewa tribe in Michigan leads a lonely life due to his large size and unusual appearance. When his nesting instinct sets in, he turns to Madame Eve and 1 Night Stand to help him find his spirit mate or at least a woman who enjoys dancing and accepts him as an eagle shifter.

Amanda Collins never recovered from unrequited love and memories of a Chippewa boy. She believes a simple night with a Native American man will make her forget the past so she can move on with her life.

Madame Eve partners them for a 1 Night Stand in the magical Rose Cabin at the Poconos Mountain Resort. During a blizzard they learn one must step into the past before dancing into the future. Will the Spirit of the Eagle carry them?







Here is the first page:
Chapter One

Frilly snowflakes fell, decorating the sleeve of his Carhartt jacket. A pair of the crystals landed on the hard material, molded together to form a larger, even more beautiful design.
No two flakes are the same, yet they manage to find a mate. Is my design too different, that I’ll never find my match? Dyami sighed, his breath releasing in a puff of white and releasing the negative vibes teasing the edge of his mind. He straightened and stretched stiff back muscles. Everything in nature happens for a reason.
Over a few beers several months earlier, he’d celebrated his own pity party with a friend. He’d vented his frustration of women staring at him with fear or disgust and had reached his limit of tolerating loneliness. His large size and dark, Native American features often intimidated strangers. Women of his tribe whispered of his peculiar eyes and often walked away, repulsed.
Unfortunately, his nesting instinct had also recently kicked in. He wanted a good woman who would accept and love him for the rest of his life. His drinking buddy had mentioned an elite dating service, 1Night Stand, that set up blind dates that often led to a love match. Dyami’s spirit nurtured the seed of hope at the recommendation and persuaded him to fill out the paperwork for a date.
Then, a week earlier, he’d stood on his porch, drinking his morning coffee, when a hawk flew overhead. His people considered hawks to be messengers, and he’d wondered about the significance of the creature’s visit. With an impatient heart, he went inside, checked his email, and discovered a message from Madame Evangeline, the owner of 1Night Stand.
Following a day of work, he’d driven almost seven hundred miles in poor weather to meet his date. He’d planned to arrive at his destination with vim and vigor, not exhausted. Eventually, he’d given in to his fatigue and spent the night in a cheap hotel along Interstate 80.
Now, standing and waiting for his date, he watched a plow rumble on the road and the world grow white and admired the serene landscape. Giant evergreen boughs were laden with heavy snow, much like the mental weight he carried. The trunks stood strong, bearing the spirits of the earth. Crisp air filled his lungs. Around his neck hung a pendant with a small eagle mounted on an arrowhead representing his lineage. Clasping it, he closed his eyes. The rough edges dug into his palm, yet gave him comfort. Some of the legends of his culture were true; such as those telling of people born with a totem animal or a spirit guide. His ancestors had been blessed by the Great Spirit. In every generation, one man be born not only with a spirit animal residing within his soul, but also the gift of shifting from man to that of his spirit animal.

Eagle Dance – Book 2 – Legend of the Spirit Series - 1 Nightstand series
BUY NOW ON  Amazon 

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

Romance Author and Artist Mary Quast lives in a log home affectionately named "Camp Run-A-Muk" located in the woods of Michigan with her husband, three sons, and a collection of animal family members. As a professional artist, Mary Quast answered the call to express herself creatively. With her descriptive writing style she has developed a knack for creating passionate characters and realistic settings. Quast is one of the original writers for the 1 Night Stand Series published by Decadent Publishing. When she’s not busy writing contemporary erotic romance novels, novelettes, and short stories, Mary Quast doles out sensual tips and yummy eye candy on her blog “Romantic Interludes”.

Visit Mary's blog 
Connect on Facebook 
Twitter @MaryQuast


Books
Handcuffs & Silk 1 Nightstand series Amazon 
Taming Rachel - 1 Nightstand series Amazon

Crow Magic - Book 1 – Legend of the Spirit Series - 1 Nightstand series Amazon 
Eagle Dance – Book 2 – Legend of the Spirit Series - 1 Nightstand series Amazon 




Saturday, May 20, 2017

Desiring Lacey - Super Sexy Playlist

🔥 🎶 Desiring Lacey Super Sexy Playlist 🎶 🔥




Good morning, all my Romance Readers Behaving Badly... 😉

I wanted to post my playlist for Desiring Lacey. These songs were played so often during the writing of this story that I know every one by heart. They're drilled into my head and, honestly, I don't think I'll ever be rid of them! But it's okay, because they're fabulous. lol

What was so interesting about writing Desiring Lacey is that I’ve never used/made a playlist before. I’ve had songs that I’ve posted that have reminded me of certain characters or events, but when I wrote my other novellas it was absolute, 110% silent time. With Desiring Lacey, however, these songs were on about 95% of the time. Sometimes the volume was so low the sexy words would barely whisper to me while I wrote, and other times they drowned out the world and everyone in it! 

Overall I really enjoyed working with the music. A sexy song, or even a more emotional one like some of the ones in here, will take you away to the place where your characters live. You can feel them and their experiences so much clearer, and it's simply amazing.

Give them a listen and see what you think! I can tell you many of these songs were on repeat for DAYS while I wrote. lol *cough* especially Desire and Until It Hurts *cough*. 

Go ahead, try it! Play Desire softly in the background while you read the below excerpt from Chapter One for an even more delicious experience...

The music changed as Lacey raised her glass to take another sip of
champagne. She closed her eyes and let the melody and lyrics wash
over her. The woman’s voice rang out over the speakers, scratchy and
passionate, the words she delivered deliciously explicit as she sang
about desire. Hot, achy, needy desire.
She heard a movement in front of her and opened her eyes to find
a man leading a woman to a large, circular cushion. As he sat down,
Lacey noticed the chatter around her had died, and everyone seemed
to watch them eagerly. As the music continued to play, the man leaned
back on his forearms and nibbled his bottom lip while he watched the
woman reach up and unclip her hair. Her long, blonde locks fell down
her back, and her hands roamed over her curves as she smiled. Her
hips swished back and forth as she glided toward him. She grabbed
his shirt by the collar, then tugged him until he slid down and sat on
the floor, his head resting on the cushion.
Lacey swallowed as she watched the woman place her knees on
either side of his head. Short bursts of excitement burst from her
lungs, and her breasts pushed against the top of her dress. He’s not
going to…surely not right here. That’d be…

She didn’t have time to finish her thought, because the next second
the man pushed up the woman’s black dress, used his hands to spread
her thighs, and buried his face in her sex. Lacey slowly inhaled as the
woman pulled off the garment, her large and perfect breasts spilling
free. She moaned as she ground against him, one hand supporting her
weight as she leaned over him, the other hand between her legs, her
fingers curled in his hair.
The people around her began to move, too. Some made their
way to the next hallway in groups of twos and threes, and others
began to kiss and explore each other right where they were.
Lacey couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. She couldn’t think—
hell, she could barely breathe. All she could do was watch the
couple in front of her. She’d never seen anything like this in her
life. Typically, she didn’t even care for porn, but the scene in
front of her made her entire body tingle. She pulled her legs up
onto her chair, and a small gasp escaped her throat as her
excitement pooled in her center. A moan slipped through her lips
as her juices leaked out and dripped down her sensitive, swollen
flesh. Holy hell, holy hell, holy hell. She squirmed in her seat as
desire overtook her. Her rapid heartbeat pulsed in her head, her
neck, her clit. She wanted nothing more than to touch herself.
She hurt so badly, she needed to touch herself, to make
herself come.
She glanced around at the few people who hadn’t gone to the
private rooms. A couple to the side of her, both still fully clothed,
ravished each other in one of the chairs. The woman straddled him,
and Lacey pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as his hands
explored every inch of her body. With each move, her skirt slid a few
inches higher, a little more of her thighs exposed each time. A few of
the other couples were already naked on the sofas. Some had sex, and
some simply enjoyed each other as fingertips ran up and down arms
and legs, over breasts and along their sex.
As everyone allowed themselves to experience the naughty fun,
Lacey’s thoughts continued to rage a war in her head. She knew if she
gave in to her body and pleasured herself, it would be the least
shocking thing taking place in the room, but even as that knowledge
swirled in her head, she still couldn’t believe she was actually
considering it. This wasn’t her. She didn’t go to sex parties and
masturbate while she watched others screw. Sex was supposed to be
intimate and private, right? That’s how she viewed it. And yet, here
she sat. A shivering, achy mess.
She swallowed the rest of her champagne and put the glass on the
floor beside her. She didn’t have time to think of how she normally
behaved. All she knew was she was in desperate need of release, and
with every second she didn’t give into the urge, her head pounded
harder. Not from the alcohol, but from her body’s unrelenting ache.
Every tremble, every shudder was her body begging her for an
orgasm. She quickly glanced around, then inched up her dress and
glanced down at her legs. Fuck! My pantyhose. Should I take them off?
Just do it over them? Dammit, dammit, dammit…

“And that, sugar, is why you aren’t supposed to wear panties.”
The deep voice startled her, and she looked up into the eyes of a
man in front of her. “They’re pantyhose. They’re—”
“Two totally separate things. Yeah, I know.”
Lacey realized she was looking at the doorman from earlier.
Cameron. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with the lust wreaking
havoc in her veins, she would have recognized his broad chest and
shoulders. After all, there was built, then there was Cameron.
She turned her head so she could keep her gaze on him as he crept
behind her, then dropped to his knees. His peppery cologne filled her
nose as he leaned in. His lips grazed her ear as he whispered, “Do you
like what you’re watching?”
His breath sent tingles up her neck, and her sex clenched harder.
Painfully. Like she was empty and needed to be filled.
“Y…yes.”
His fingers moved through her long, dark curls as he pulled them
to the side. She closed her eyes and moaned as his scorching lips came
into contact with her neck. His wet tongue skated out and ran up her
skin to her ear. “Open your eyes, sugar.”
Lacey did as she was told. The man in front of her ran his hands
up the woman’s back and pushed her down until her cheek rested on
the cushion, her ass up in the air. The position showed everything.
“What’s he doing to her?” Cameron asked as his hands made their
way down to her chest, and his long fingers massaged the tops of her
breasts over her dress. He applied perfect pressure, squeezing them
just right, and her nipples hardened beneath his touch.
“He’s going down on her.”
Cameron chuckled and allowed his hands to travel to her waist.
“Going down on her? Please. That’s what guys do when they feel it’s
something they have to do. Like it’s a chore.” He removed his hands,
then made his way around her chair until he was in front of her. He
placed his palms on her shaking knees, his thumbs still massaging,
and ran his tongue over his lips. “Open your legs?”
Lacey watched her legs tremble as she parted them slightly,
allowing Cameron to slide in between them. The feel of his body and
his heat against her center had her helplessly trying to grind into the
chair. Anything to get some friction where she needed it most.
He leaned in until their lips almost touched, but stopped just short
of kissing her. “What he’s doing, Lacey, is eating her pussy.” He ran his
mouth across her cheek and to her ear, his hot breath sending chills
up her spine as he spoke. “Watch him. He’s devouring her. He wants to
feel every ounce of her wetness on his tongue, then he wants to
swallow it down. Do you see? Can you tell the difference?”
Lacey watched, transfixed, as the man’s tongue disappeared in and
out of the woman. She heard him moan as he used his fingers to fill
her up. Every now and then, he’d place one of them back into his
mouth and suck off her juices, then he’d grab her thighs or hips and
push her down farther into his mouth. Onto his face.
“Oh!” Lacey threw her head back as Cameron used the palm of his
hand to push against her center.
“Mmm…I can feel how wet you are. Tell me, baby, do you need
to come?”
“Yes…yes please.” She clumsily attempted to remove her stockings,
but he took her hands and placed them on the armrests.
“No need,” he grabbed the middle of her pantyhose, right above
her sex, and ripped them open.
Her center throbbed from both her need and the cool air that now
caressed her sensitive skin. She could feel her wetness on her inner
thighs, and she attempted to rub them together to get some sort of
relief, but it proved impossible with him kneeling between her legs.
Cameron leaned down and hovered just above her sex.
Her legs shook, her fingers dug into the armrests, and her hips
continuously rose off the chair involuntarily. Just when she was ready
to beg for him to put his mouth on her, she felt his tongue softly skate
over her lips.
“Keep looking at them,” he whispered against her. “Watch them
while I eat you.”




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