more and more every day.” He stretched his naked body over hers and mingled his coffee and tobacco taste with the fruit flavour in a luscious, lazy kiss. He was hard again, though fresh jism from their latest coupling still leaked from her cleft. His pubic hair scratched and stung against the welts he’d painted on her thighs with the new martinet. They’d found the toy yesterday at one of the city’s many flea markets, along with some iron manacles Andrew claimed dated from the Revolution. The lingering soreness in her pussy transmuted into an ache of need. She wanted him again, deep inside—as surely as he wanted her.
“We have an appointment this afternoon with Monsieur Fronchet at Van Cleef and Arpels on Place Vendôme. I plan to buy you a proper wedding ring.” The plain gold circlet he’d acquired so hurriedly in Newport gleamed in the morning sunlight. After they’d been discovered in flagrante, his trousers unbuttoned and her gown in tatters, Andrew’s mother had insisted on a rapid, private marriage and a long trip abroad. Andrew had been eager, for once, to obey his mother’s dictates.
Olivia had been mortified when Gannet had strolled up to the tea house. Now, though, the recollection of his knowing smile thrilled her. Andrew had vowed he’d share her with his devoted and discreet friend after they returned to America…
Her husband licked at the corners of her mouth, gathering powdered sugar and residual cream. “And then, later, I’ve booked us a cruise on the Seine. A private cruise.”
Warmth surged through her as he applied his deft fingers to her soaked quim. A premonition of climax scattered her fantasies of what he might do to her on the boat. But he snatched his hand away just as she teetered on the brink, then chuckled at her moan of frustration.
“You’re insatiable, my darling slut.” He leaned in for another kiss.
“And you love that fact, don’t you, sir?” Olivia countered when they broke for breath.
“I do. I love you—your body, your mind, your eagerness to serve me…”
“Even my liberal social philosophies?”
“I raised the millworkers’ wages, didn’t I? And the steel men’s, too.” He twisted one engorged nipple to the point of pain. She swallowed her cry, determined to endure whatever delicious tortures he saw fit to bestow. “You drive a hard bargain, Mrs MacIntyre.”
His rampant cock slipped easily between her sprawled thighs and into her slick folds—where it belonged. Olivia gasped. “Ah—oh, sir…” A new crisis shimmered on the horizon as he stroked in and out. She gazed up into the mischief-filled eyes of her lover, her lord, her master.
“But it’s worth it. You’re mine now, tied to me by law and lust. And no matter what anyone says, I’m never letting you go.”
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Mastering Maya
Lisabet Sarai
Excerpt
Chapter One
“Who the hell is she?”
The crack of the Domme’s single-tail whip punctuated Stephen’s question. Raven hair cascaded to her waist, swinging in time with the steady strokes she layered on her bound victim’s naked back. She danced around the flogging bench like a ballerina, bringing the leather thong down on the still-unmarked areas of skin with astonishing grace and precision. The brawny blond man stretched lengthwise along the padded trestle jerked each time the whip found its mark. The sub’s gag effectively muffled any vocal reaction, but Stephen had a clear view of his engorged cock poking through the hole in the bench. Pre-cum slicked the shaft. Meanwhile, the blond’s buttocks clenched around the plug embedded in his anus each time the Domme’s lash struck. Obviously, the sub was enjoying the woman’s expert beating.
It was the woman who held Stephen’s attention, though. Her simple, severe outfit—a white crêpe blouse, narrow navy skirt and broad belt—highlighted her lush curves. The half-buttoned
“We have an appointment this afternoon with Monsieur Fronchet at Van Cleef and Arpels on Place Vendôme. I plan to buy you a proper wedding ring.” The plain gold circlet he’d acquired so hurriedly in Newport gleamed in the morning sunlight. After they’d been discovered in flagrante, his trousers unbuttoned and her gown in tatters, Andrew’s mother had insisted on a rapid, private marriage and a long trip abroad. Andrew had been eager, for once, to obey his mother’s dictates.
Olivia had been mortified when Gannet had strolled up to the tea house. Now, though, the recollection of his knowing smile thrilled her. Andrew had vowed he’d share her with his devoted and discreet friend after they returned to America…
Her husband licked at the corners of her mouth, gathering powdered sugar and residual cream. “And then, later, I’ve booked us a cruise on the Seine. A private cruise.”
Warmth surged through her as he applied his deft fingers to her soaked quim. A premonition of climax scattered her fantasies of what he might do to her on the boat. But he snatched his hand away just as she teetered on the brink, then chuckled at her moan of frustration.
“You’re insatiable, my darling slut.” He leaned in for another kiss.
“And you love that fact, don’t you, sir?” Olivia countered when they broke for breath.
“I do. I love you—your body, your mind, your eagerness to serve me…”
“Even my liberal social philosophies?”
“I raised the millworkers’ wages, didn’t I? And the steel men’s, too.” He twisted one engorged nipple to the point of pain. She swallowed her cry, determined to endure whatever delicious tortures he saw fit to bestow. “You drive a hard bargain, Mrs MacIntyre.”
His rampant cock slipped easily between her sprawled thighs and into her slick folds—where it belonged. Olivia gasped. “Ah—oh, sir…” A new crisis shimmered on the horizon as he stroked in and out. She gazed up into the mischief-filled eyes of her lover, her lord, her master.
“But it’s worth it. You’re mine now, tied to me by law and lust. And no matter what anyone says, I’m never letting you go.”
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Mastering Maya
Lisabet Sarai
Excerpt
Chapter One
“Who the hell is she?”
The crack of the Domme’s single-tail whip punctuated Stephen’s question. Raven hair cascaded to her waist, swinging in time with the steady strokes she layered on her bound victim’s naked back. She danced around the flogging bench like a ballerina, bringing the leather thong down on the still-unmarked areas of skin with astonishing grace and precision. The brawny blond man stretched lengthwise along the padded trestle jerked each time the whip found its mark. The sub’s gag effectively muffled any vocal reaction, but Stephen had a clear view of his engorged cock poking through the hole in the bench. Pre-cum slicked the shaft. Meanwhile, the blond’s buttocks clenched around the plug embedded in his anus each time the Domme’s lash struck. Obviously, the sub was enjoying the woman’s expert beating.
It was the woman who held Stephen’s attention, though. Her simple, severe outfit—a white crêpe blouse, narrow navy skirt and broad belt—highlighted her lush curves. The half-buttoned
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