Tag Archives: Awakenings

Excerpt from Hanging On

Excerpt from Hanging On (Awakenings 2)

STORY EXCERPT

 

Rounding the corner, she stopped in the doorway. Drew stood in front of the stove, wearing only his jeans, which he hadn’t bothered to button. The trail of blond hairs leading from his navel disappeared into his boxers. Her eyes fastened on the barrier, and she fought the urge to touch him there.

“I have to go to work,” he said as he lifted the pan to shake it the way practiced chefs do, with just a dish towel around the handle for protection. Sophia tried it once and ended up with a huge mess to clean and a mild burn on the heel of her hand. “Mysous-chef is getting a little too big for her britches. She wants to put my Hawaiian Chicken on the catering menu, and it’s not ready.” He set the towel on the counter and sipped at the mug of coffee he had poured. “Maybe I should let you put her in her place for me. It’ll save me a few dozen arguments.”

Sophia tore her eyes away from his pelvic area. He faced the stove, so his side was to her. Luckily, he hadn’t noticed the way she had been staring at him. His eyes were glued to whatever was in the pan.

“You don’t owe me an explanation.”

Now he looked at her. She avoided meeting his eyes. Propelling her feet forward, she slipped in on the other side of him to pour some coffee.

“Sophia…” His voice trailed off. “I’m making crepes.”

That wasn’t what he was going to say. She was glad he decided not to force the issue. “I don’t expect you to cook, either.”

His arms came down on either side of her, resting his hands on the counter to block her in. She felt his breath on her neck, but he didn’t touch her at all. “‘Thank you’ is the correct response. Maybe later you can move on to something like, ‘I’ve never had anything so heavenly in my mouth before,’ or ‘You’ve earned that five-star chef rating, Drew.’ You can even offer to cook breakfast next time.”

Sophia swallowed. He was right. Intimacy like this made her edgy. It wasn’t his fault, and she was behaving badly. “I just don’t want you to think I expect you to cook for me.” It was a poor apology, but Drew accepted it anyway.

“I’m perfectly aware that you only want me for my body.” He squeezed her ass in an exaggerated display of making a pass and turned back to the stove. “Go wait at the table like a good girl. Later, you can brag to all of your friends that the hottest chef on TV made breakfast for you.”

She laughed out loud at that. Many of her pitifully few friends had already reaped the fringe benefits of knowing Drew. Before she was seated, he plated the crepes, rummaging with uncanny accuracy through her cupboards for things like sugar and toothpicks.

He set the plate before her. Crepes weren’t in her vocabulary, so she didn’t know what to expect. They looked like thin pancakes wrapped around a fruit filling. The energy she expended the previous evening had been considerable, and she was famished. She dug in. They were heavenly, just as he predicted. Her plate was clear before he was half finished.

Drew stared at her dubiously. “I think I need to feed you when you’re less hungry. There’s no way you tasted anything.”

“It was good,” she assured him.

He let loose a long-suffering sigh. “Remind me not to let you write my reviews.”

She smiled, again. That was her first glimpse of his sense of humor. It had been far too long since one of her lovers made her laugh. Given the serious nature of her usual “relationship,” the lack of mirth wasn’t surprising.

“Mouthwatering,” she teased. “A sensual feast, perfect for the morning after.”

“It’s afternoon,” he pointed out between bites. “And if I didn’t have to go to work and murder Maya, then this would just be a refueling break. We’re not out of condoms yet.”

She waved away that concern, a smile never leaving her face. “That’s only cause for a run to the store.”

 

ADULT EXCERPT (Explicit)

 

Drew watched intently. His mouth parted as his breathing sped up, and his pupils dilated. He was becoming aroused watching her outfit Livia.

“Go bend over the footboard,” Sophia said.

Livia complied immediately.

“I thought you were going to punish me,” Drew said, sounding both anxious and jealous. “I’m the one who broke the rules.”

Sophia smiled at him. This time he swallowed in fear. She indicated a chair nearby. It was straight-backed and much more uncomfortable than it looked. “Sit, Drew. You need to learn to behave.”

He narrowed his eyes but did as she instructed. Perhaps he thought he would get to watch two women having sex. Most men entertained that kind of fantasy.

Sophia left Livia alone, knowing the wait heightened the punishment/reward for her, and sauntered over to Drew. She straddled him, running her hands across his bare shoulders and down his arms.

She didn’t know where Livia found him, but Drew was either a man who worked out frequently or he had a job that required manual labor. This was not the physique of a man who sat around all day. Everything about him advertised a man of action—someone who was strong, decisive, determined, not the submissive she so badly wanted.

Logistics required she sit on his lap to do what she needed to do. A bulge strained against the denim of his jeans. Centering her pussy over it, she rested her weight on him. He groaned.

Grasping his wrists, she guided them behind the chair, and he didn’t resist. Her breasts grazed his chest, and she felt the sudden heat of him through thin cotton. He tensed, and she realized he felt the same jolt she felt at the contact. She used the distraction to secure the handcuffs.

The cold metal closed around his wrists, and his eyes widened in surprise. Her serene smile never wavered. She never made an effort to hide her toys. She dropped her voice so Livia couldn’t hear what she said. “Tell me what you want, Drew. Your wildest fantasies can come true.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling from his chest through the peaks of her nipples. “You’re not the first woman to say that to me.”

Her answer might have been ill-advised, but he rattled her more than she cared to admit. “I’m the first woman who can really deliver.”

He went still, and Sophia prayed to whoever was listening that she hadn’t crossed a line. His blue eyes darkened with desire, and he leaned closer, trying to capture her lips in a kiss. She leaned away and put a finger to his lips. There would be no kissing, either, not with the way he made her feel, not with the things she wanted to do to him. A very large, selfish part of Sophia wanted Livia gone so she wouldn’t have to share.

That would be dangerous. This was the kind of man in which she could lose herself.

“None of that,” she chastised. “You don’t get to touch me without permission. You get no pleasure that I don’t approve. You may not come until I give you permission.”

Pushing herself away from him, she bent to secure his feet. He struggled against the bonds, but they were too strong. “Sophia,” he whispered.

Though he used the wrong title, the entreaty was a beginning. Ignoring him, she returned to Livia. When Sophia had dressed Livia, she ran her hands along the sultry blonde’s body, reminding herself where Livia liked to be touched and how. She wanted a beating, nothing severe, just enough to heat her skin.

Grabbing a bulb vibrator and a tube of lubricating gel, Sophia approached her waiting submissive. “Spread your cheeks.”

Without changing her bent position, Livia reached back with both hands and spread her ass wide. Sophia squirted gel onto the toy and some onto her fingers. Livia sighed and gasped as Sophia massaged the gel into her. She tensed when Sophia removed her fingers, knowing what was coming next. The bulb parted her, shoving hard and fast into her little puckered hole. A low moan escaped.

If they played again, Sophia would have Drew fuck her that way while she used a vibrator or clitoral stimulator from the front. She could hang Livia from hooks in the ceiling, and they could use her body as a plaything. Livia would love it.

But that was not in the plan tonight.

Sophia turned the dial to medium, sending vibrations through Livia’s body.

Livia was a good girl. She didn’t move her hands one bit, even though she knew what was coming next. She liked a light whipping, so Sophia gave it to her, paying special attention to her ass. Resting her forehead on the bed’s footboard, she moved in time to the rhythm of the lashes. Cries fell from her lips.

When she was a good shade of pink, Sophia stopped. The marks would fade in an hour or so, but until they did, she would be sensitive to the lightest of touches.

“Mistress, please.” Her whispered words caught in her throat. The straps and the lick of the whip had worked their magic. She was primed and ready to come.

With a light hand on her shoulder, Sophia guided Livia to Drew and arranged her on top of him, her back to his front. The chair might not be comfortable, but he provided the perfect cushioning. Sophia wanted to lie on him like that, to feel his chest against her back. “Lay your head on his shoulder, and let your legs fall to the outside of his.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

A tap on the quick-release freed Drew’s legs. “Spread your legs wider.”

Annoyance and frustration thinned his lips. He hesitated before complying, opening Livia even further. Sophia rewarded him with an absent caress on the cheek. He turned into her palm, seeking to kiss her there. She pulled away before he made contact and returned her attention to Livia.

“Touch yourself,” she commanded. “Outside only.”

Her fingers were red and stiff from the whip. Ever so slowly, she moved them across her body, caressing her tender flesh as she found her saturated folds. The bulb in her anus vibrated, and her fingers worked quickly. Sophia watched Livia’s face. She was in heaven. A pleased smile tugged at her mouth, which Drew saw.

Her eyes met his, and she realized her mistake. In avoiding looking at him, she thought he wasn’t looking at her. From the expression on his face, she wondered if his eyes had ever left her. Had he watched Livia being whipped, or Sophia whipping her?

Recovering quickly, she studied his face. The punishment had been effective. He hated being restrained, restricted from the action, and he didn’t bother to hide that emotion. Sophia thought he might pull at his handcuffs a little more, but he didn’t, opting instead to stare at her. He ensnared her with his eyes, and electricity jolted through her body. She recognized a hunger in him that echoed in her.

He wanted her.

Excerpt from Letting Go

Excerpt from Letting Go (Awakenings 1)

STORY EXCERPT

mz-a-lettinggoCasually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he gripped her by the shoulders. Through the thin fabric of her blouse, Sabrina could feel that his fingers were warm and strong. She knew he was going to kiss her before his hands slid up and he threaded his fingers in her hair. It was part of the deal. She didn’t have high expectations and so she was pleasantly surprised. His lips were firm, not nearly as soft as they appeared. He didn’t pull her into him or otherwise touch her. She was a little disappointed.

When he finished, he leaned back. One arm rested on the back of the couch while the other elbow rested on the arm of the sofa. He propped his chin on his hand and studied her. She had the feeling of being dissected. “Are you a virgin?”

She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “I’m almost thirty.” It occurred to Sabrina that she knew almost nothing about Jonas. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-four. Answer the question.”

She stalled. Did he think the kiss was that bad? She’d never been accused of being a bad kisser before. “One kiss makes you think I’m a virgin?”

He shrugged again. “You’re a little passive.”

“It was a first kiss.” She was growing indignant. It wasn’t like passionate feelings had led to the kiss.

“So?”

This time, she grabbed him, drawing him down to her altitude. He submitted to her, letting her control the kiss. Lightly, her lips brushed against his until she increased the pressure. Her tongue licked at his lower lip before slipping inside. He tasted warm and minty. She was determined to show him that she was an accomplished kisser.

He met her halfway, toying with her tongue until either he felt he had played with her enough or passion took over. She wasn’t sure what it was like for him, but passion was definitely a factor for her. Heat spread, warming her blood. Her heart followed suit, its rhythmic beat thumping in her ears.

She wanted to explore this unexpected chemistry, but Jonas broke the kiss and settled back against the couch. He cleared his throat. “Are you opposed to role playing?”

“I’m not into Dungeons and Dragons.” Her breathing was just beginning to normalize. Shyness took over and it was hard to look directly at him.

He smiled. “Neither am I, unless it involves some bondage and domination. Perhaps some light spanking.”

Sabrina’s eyes came close to bugging out of her head. Heat blossomed in her cheeks and spread down her neck, the tell-tale sign of a blush. She had grown up in a house where one used the ‘powder room,’ because any other term was forbidden. The taboos to which he referred were definitely not a suitable topic for conversation, even for joking.

He laughed again. She liked his laugh, but she didn’t care to be the source of his amusement. Her frustration must have shown because his tone changed to seriousness. “I meant dressing up for sex.”

“Are you talking about lingerie, or a French maid’s outfit?”

A rakish grin stretched the corners of his mouth. “Yes.”

 It wasn’t a clear answer, but she knew what he meant. She shrugged, trying to fake a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “I’ve worn lingerie before, but not the other stuff. Look, I’m willing to try, but what are you going to do if I absolutely hate it?”

“Make you not hate it.” His eyes, edged with topaz, held a promise that made Sabrina catch her breath.

She really didn’t know where to go with this, but Jonas had figured out how easy it was to disconcert her, a fact she’d successfully hidden for the duration of her career. He sauntered across the room and grabbed his laptop before settling back on the sofa.

“What are you doing?”

“Booking our flight to Vegas,” he said, as if everything was settled.

Still in shock from the most explicit discussion she’d ever had with a stranger about sex, Sabrina didn’t say anything.

He found the flight, but before he booked it, he asked one last thing. “Let’s recap the terms, shall we? I am to be the best, most loving husband to you in front of your relatives. At least twice a week, I get to fuck you until you scream my name. The rest of the time, we’re friends.”

“Screaming isn’t necessary, and I wish you wouldn’t use that word,” she said.

He reached out a hand to move a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face. “Screaming is absolutely necessary, and I think I’m going to like using that word around you if you’re going to blush like that.”

ADULT EXCERPT (Explicit)

Cocking her head to one side, she turned on her flirtiest smile. “You’re relatively new here, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been here for more than six months, Ms. Breszewski.” He caught on to what she was doing immediately.

“I’ve heard good things about you. Can I call you Jonas?” She didn’t wait for a response. Approaching him, she fingered his tie, letting the smooth fabric caress her skin. Inches separated them. “Jonas, I’d like to see what you’re made of.”

 A knowing light came into his eyes. He grasped her hips and pressed them to his pelvis, lifting her in the process. She had to grab his arms to keep from losing her balance.

“Would you?” he asked.

She imagined him throwing her on the black leather sofa in the corner of her office and holding her hands hostage as he groped under her skirt. It worked. When she looked up at him, she had the right look on her face, the one that begged him the way he liked. Despite the green tie, his eyes darkened to topaz. Instantly, he dropped to his knees.

His large, warm hands followed her stockings up, disappearing under her skirt. She hadn’t worn the cream one with the lace hem. This one was black. It flared under her hips, making her seem curvier than she was. She always thought it made her look a little plump, but Jonas assured her that men the world over didn’t share her opinion.

He stopped, his hands stuttering when they reached bare flesh. For the first time, she wore a pair of thigh-highs. He glanced up, burning her with his tawny eyes.

His hands retreated, but only for a moment. This time, when he ran his hands up her legs, he raised her skirt as well. She watched his face as he discovered she wore no panties, only a garter to hold up the stockings. He stared at the V of hair pointing to his destination, mesmerized.

Sabrina was becoming heady with power. “Lick me,” she commanded.

“Spread your legs,” he said, his voice strangled and his breathing uneven.

She thought he would want her to lie down on the couch or at least lean against her desk, but they were in the middle of the room and nothing was nearby. With a move that was much more decisive and confident than she felt, Sabrina widened her stance.

He rotated her hips forward, spreading her wider with the movement and parting her with his thumbs. Without hesitating, he opened his mouth. His face disappeared, leaving only the top of his sunstreaked hair nestled against her deep brown curls.

The first sensation was heat, pure molten lava that made her inhale sharply. Strong and talented, his tongue caressed her as erotically as he promised. Her legs trembled, and she swayed. He broke off sharply, catching her before she fell, and guided her back several steps to lean against the front of her desk.

His tongue returned to its exploits and she gripped the desk, luxuriating in the tiny pain the edge caused as it dug into the palm of her hands. If Jonas had taught her nothing else, he taught her that she liked when control was taken from her, leaving her with no choice but to reach climax. It was to be her release in more ways than one. In taking control from her, he often handled her roughly, but never rough enough to leave marks or bruises. Jonas definitely knew her body’s limits.

Now he was gentle, almost reverent. It wasn’t enough. Jonas was not handling her roughly and she needed more if she was going to come. Letting the desk dig into her hands went a small way toward that end.

The pressure between her legs changed. His mouth opened more, biting her clitoris sharply. Sabrina yelped at the unexpectedness of the pain and wetness flooded her pussy. She felt self-conscious at the thought of her juices pouring into his mouth, but he moaned into her flesh, sucking harder and harder.

Capturing her swollen and throbbing clit between his teeth, he drew it into his mouth, stretching it. Cold fire raced through Sabrina, passion mixed with a titillating sharpness. She moaned and leaned back, not to escape him, but because her knees would no longer support her weight.

Without seeming to move, he thrust a finger inside, pinching the thin skin there with the thumb that remained on the outside. She nearly came with the sharpness of the pinch.

Two more fingers joined the first, stretching her from the inside as his strong lips kept her clit elongated. She came on him, just like he wanted, her juices soaking his fingers and filling his mouth. She knew she was loud and there was a better than even chance that someone standing near one of her doors would hear her, but she didn’t care. She knew it pleased him to have it so.

He stood, kissing her as hard as he sucked her a moment ago. Her musky taste lingered on his lips and tongue, giving her a taste of her essential femaleness.

Reaching between them, she loosed his belt and opened his pants. He was inside her before she was able to fully move his boxer briefs out of the way, riding the waves of her waning orgasm. He pushed her knees up so that her feet rested on the edge of the desk and he held them there with his shoulders as he leaned over her.

She couldn’t hang on to him in this position. She was forced to balance by resting her weight on her hands behind her. She let her head fall back and she concentrated on the growing tension, forgetting everything except Jonas and the way he made her feel.

Surreal Neal Free Chapter (6.5)

When I wrote Surreal Neal, This was originally Chapter 7. However, this chapter from Jonas’s point of view didn’t fit into the narrative. I’m publishing it here for your enjoyment. You might be missing Jonas…

Jonas

Sophia had done a wonderful job taking Sabrina deep into subspace. I had done it before, but not to this extent. To be honest, I hadn’t been sure she could handle it. Control was a difficult thing for Sabrina to surrender, and she did so with extreme reluctance. I would never have forced the issue, but I could tell she wanted it.

Of course, I had gone about demanding her complete submission all wrong. It had backfired, and I’d created a horrible rift between us, the kind that cut deep and painfully. We’d begun repairing the damage to our relationship by using a notebook. Whatever she was feeling that she couldn’t say outright to me went in there. Anything she wrote was considered neutral. She could tear into me, and I couldn’t use it against her, not that I would. If Sabrina ever tore into me, then I deserved it.

She didn’t use it all the time, only when she had something important to communicate that she couldn’t bring herself to say. Right now, that was most things. She almost never brought up these matters directly. The notebook was her voice.

When I found it in the closet near my socks, I treated it as sacred. This was where she bared her deepest fears and starkest desires–her soul–to me.

Once in a while, I wrote back. Mostly I waited until we had a moment alone, and I brought up the issues she raised. I knew it was difficult for her to share anything. Though I wished she felt like she could tell me anything, I knew it would take time. It wasn’t a matter of trust; it was a matter of her not wanting to disappoint me.

As if she could.

Last week, she’d asked me about deep subspace, wondering if I’d taken her there. I had not, and in a rare moment of humility, she asked me to do it.

I had no problem fulfilling her request, but I’d pushed her too far in the past and come to regret it. This time, I wanted someone objective in the room. Sophia was perfect; not only did she regularly flog Sabrina, she would look out for both of us.

I carried Sabrina’s petite form to the car. Barely conscious, she snuggled against my chest and rested her head on my shoulder. During moments like this, with her blissfully wrapped in my embrace, I felt whole and peaceful. She was mine, and she accepted it.

Setting her down, I propped her up near the passenger door. “Honey, I’m going to put the butterfly on you. Stay here.”

She murmured something, but I couldn’t make it out. I opened the door and pulled out the device that would hook around her legs and press against her clit. She cooperated with me, lifting her feet so that I could slide it into place. A small protrusion could be used in her pussy, but I bent it forward so that the stimulation remained outside.

Then I guided her into the passenger seat. Her head lolled against the backrest, so I tilted her seat back and put on her seatbelt.

Leaning across her, I was able to make out what she said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“No, I mean for this. I’ve never felt like this before.”

In addition to mumbling, she slurred her words. It took me a moment to translate her statement. When I did, I planted a kiss on her soft, inviting lips. “We’re not finished, honey.”

She smiled, and I knew I’d made the right decision. If I’d flogged her, then I might have missed the subtle signs that she was falling over the edge. While Sophia had been doing her thing, I had spent some time sensitizing Sabrina’s nipples. I kept her from subspace for as long as I could.

Her clothes had to be chafing her skin. I’d taken care of Sabrina afterward, seeing to the areas that were raw and inflamed. Sophia had disappeared, not waiting for us or walking us to the door, which was fine. I’d seen her drag Drew into the front room, and I knew she was seeing to her needs.

The drive home would take a half hour. I had the remote for the butterfly in my hand, but I gave Sabrina ten minutes before I started playing with the settings.

Our home was a remodeled Victorian. Sabrina’s grandfather had purchased her dream house as a college graduation gift. I wanted to move closer to where I worked, but I couldn’t bring myself to say that to her, not knowing how she feels about the house.

We didn’t have a dungeon like Sophia’s. I had a room in the basement I kept locked because there was no way anybody could mistake it for a bedroom. This was the place where I took Sabrina when we wanted some hardcore play. I kept some equipment in our bedroom and in the pool house, but I had made sure the equipment I wanted was in place before I’d driven Sabrina to see Sophia.

By the time we arrived at home, she had emerged from subspace. Her eyes were focused, and she was shifting in her seat, fighting the effects of the butterfly.

“Sir?”

“Yes?” Using the title of “Master” had not worked out for us. Sabrina had disliked it. This was a compromise, one I’m not sure she liked. The fact she was using it meant she was trying, and that pleased me.

“You’re not finished with me, right?”

“Nope.” I parked in the garage and guided her to the basement.”I’m going to make you scream.”

That was another thing she’d asked for in her notebook. She’d said she wanted to scream. I was welcome to use a gag, but she wanted me to make her scream and not stop unless she called the safe word.

I’d built a frame in the shape of an H and mounted it on a sturdy base. I bent her over one side. The connecting pole supported her torso, and the other end crossed her body above her breasts but under her shoulders. In short order, I secured her ankles to the base, forcing her to stand with her legs spread. On the other end, I hooked a line through the O-ring on her collar and secured her to the floor. Her arms were free, but she wouldn’t attempt to break away.

I used a ball gag in her mouth. She didn’t like this kind very much because it made her drool, and that was precisely the reason I preferred it. She needed to understand in her core that she had no say in these matters. Plus she looked amazing with her lips around a bright pink ball.
It was a testament to her docile mood that she neither protested nor glared.

“You’re being very good right now, honey, and you look so lovely.”

She blinked, and I could see the naked pleasure she took in my compliment.

The next thing I did was to bring her a little pain. Bondage thrilled her to no end, but pain pushed her over the edge and kept her there. I fastened tweezer clamps to her nipples. Each had a chain that I attached to the center post. Any movement on her part would tighten the clamps and ratchet up the pain factor.

Relief was the first item on the agenda. I grabbed a condom, lubricated the hell out of it and her anus. She tightened when I tried to push a finger inside, but she caught herself and relaxed.

“Good. I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet.”

Unless I stimulated her clit, she didn’t come when I took her like this. I didn’t want her to come, not yet. I wanted to work her up to the point where her climax left her a trembling puddle of goo. She needed this. She needed me to give it to her.

I entered her slowly, letting her get used to the sensation. While she liked anal sex, she’d informed me that her greatest pleasure was in knowing she’d made it possible for me to have an orgasm.

Several experimental thrusts later, I established a rhythm. The H structure was bolted to the floor. I grasped the ends of the bar supporting her hips and fucked faster. Her hot little body fit so tight around me. She groaned and moaned encouragement and pleasure. When I felt my balls draw up, I drove deep and let the climax consume me.

Nothing compared to taking the woman I adored when she was bound and gagged, her ass, thighs, and back still bearing streaks from a thorough flogging. I staggered backward and sat heavily on a padded bondage chair, and I enjoyed the view of her gorgeous ass while I recovered. She waited patiently, flexing a muscle or wiggling her toes every now and again to keep her circulation going.

I disposed of the condom and cleaned myself, and then I attended to her. She whimpered a few times, both a protest to my treatment of her engorged clit and the fact that I wiped away her juices.

Next I grabbed a crop. I brought it down sharply across the lower part of her ass. She gurgled a scream through her gag. I delivered another and another. She danced under the onslaught, trying to escape the sting on her ass and the tightening clamps on her nipples. I stole a look in the mirror I’d installed on the wall at the perfect angle to catch her face when she was on this thing. Tears streaked her cheeks, and she looked like she was in heaven.

I nudged her clit with the flap, and then I struck her there. Her eyes widened, their shape matching her mouth, and she screeched so loud I thought for a moment the gag had come loose.

Recognizing that look, I knelt next to her face and pushed a strand away from her eyes. “Did you come?”

She nodded.

“Did you have permission?”

She shook her head.

We had worked out a signal for when she wanted to ask to come, but she had yet to use it. Sabrina still came whenever she wanted. When we’d first met, she had been new to bondage and domination, and she had never orgasmed. Ever.

“Show me the signal.” I had to make sure she remembered it.

She blinked at me, and I waited for the wheels of her mind to finish churning. Finally she showed me a signal. It was the wrong one.

I rearranged her fingers, crossing her middle finger over her pointer. “This is the signal. Failure to use it will lead to punishment.”

I didn’t actually want to punish her, not tonight. I had plans that didn’t include denying either of us.

She nodded and blinked, apologizing. I think. A line of drool trickled down her chin. I left it alone.

With that out of the way, I slapped the flap of the crop on the side of her breast. She gasped. I repeated the action on her other breast and got the same result.

“Like that?”

She nodded, and I knew she wanted more. I reached under her and released the nipple clamps. She bowed and screeched. Her body jerked so hard I knew she would have bruises on her wrists and the places where the H-frame touched. Her cunt quivered, and light reflected from the ample juices there.

I smacked the flap of the crop on her breast, abusing flesh that I’d already tenderized, though I avoided her nipples for the time being. Before long, I had reached my limit. She was simply too enticing. I removed my jeans and took my place behind her.

On the best days, I had good stamina. I prided myself on outlasting Sabrina. She clenched around me three times, remembering once to ask for permission. I hoped to hell she passed out soon because I wasn’t sure I could outlast her without battery-operated help.

Her soft, velvety walls felt so good. Just when I gave into the urge to climax, she shuddered and went limp. I was exhausted, drained, and proud of what I’d done to my wife.

Blog Takeover–with Drew Snow

Hi. I’m Drew Snow, host of the hit cooking show Sensual Secrets. Michele has graciously allowed me to take over her blog writing task today to write about anything I want. Of course I chose the sexiest topic I know–food.

The first step to creating a sexy dish is making sure it tastes good. If not, skip the food and get straight to the naked chemistry portion of the date. Always play to your strengths. Since I’m equally good at food and sex, I never skip the food. There’s something about sharing an intimate meal, finding mutual pleasure in a succulent mouthful, that ends up being great foreplay for the main event. Today I’m going to share a sexy recipe with you–Sweet Potato Soup. It’s feel-good food, guaranteed to make your lover swoon. Just be there to catch her/him.

Begin with a third or a half of a sweet onion, depending on how oniony you want it to end up. Dice the onion, two small sweet potatoes (or medium, if you want more sweetness), and one regular carrot. Heat some extra virgin olive oil in a pan. I  like to put in a dash of nutmeg and about a quarter teaspoon of ginger. It gives an extra burst of flavor that seduces the palate. Add the onion and carrots to the hot oil. When they’re caramelized, add the sweet potatoes in and let that heat up for a couple of minutes.

Then add about a cup of water. You might need more as it reduces. Don’t let it reduce too much. I like to throw in a teaspoon of Better than Bullion Vegetarian seasoning, and I let it simmer for about fifteen minutes. Add a can of cannelloni beans (drained) and cook until everything’s done. Puree it in a blender.

I put a dollop of plain Greek yogurt in the center of the bowl. It looks good, and it cuts the heat a bit. Light some candles, dim the lights, and serve it naked to someone you love (who is hopefully also naked.) It’s a sweet, sexy dish that’s also healthy, filling, vegetarian, and gluten free.

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Creating Neal

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In a romance novel, the characters are the plot. Their foibles and flaws, wants and needs, drive the action and the way the plot unfolds. For Surreal Neal, I had to come up with a man who was handsome enough to catch Drew and Sophia’s eyes, intriguing enough to keep their interest, and kinky enough to bring something to the table that had been missing.

The other challenge I faced was in making sure neither Drew nor Sophia felt like their relationship was deficient. I wanted the addition of Neal to improve upon what they already had. This is part of the journey Sophia and Drew take as they fall for this imperfect hero.

Neal had to be submissive and a bit of a masochist because Sophia is a Domme and a bit of a sadist. He also needed to be strong because Drew is attracted to strong personalities. He makes the pair work to earn his trust, his submission, and ultimately his heart. He is the first man with whom Sophia voluntarily shares the details of her violent past. He’s a mirror, someone who can help her view her own life through a new viewpoint. Ultimately, he takes her further in the healing process.

Neal is the also first man who awakens Drew’s inner Dom. Until now, Drew had been content to sit back and let Sophia handle the role of Dominant. As he explores this new part of himself, he also gets a chance to see his life and his actions through an alternate lens.

In bringing perspective to both Sophia and Drew, Neal helps them become better people. In turn, they show him that he can learn to trust and love again. That part of his life isn’t over. It’s just beginning.

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The Right Ingredients

One of the questions readers ask is how I come up with a particular storyline. As I read through Surreal Neal, working through edits after having put the manuscript aside for two months, I wondered the same thing. The story flowed, the characters leapt from the page, and some of the wording was quite beautiful–yet I didn’t remember writing it. I remember outlining the chapters. I remember relentlessly revising the outline as characters said and did things that revealed themselves in different ways than I’d originally planned. I remember making tea to sip while I wrote.

The journey of putting together a story at times becomes surreal. Getting into the characters takes the creative process to a new level. I started Surreal Neal months ago. I wrote 20,000 words and deleted most of them. Twice. It wasn’t working for me. Then I realized the problem: The characters needed to speak through me. I had to write the story in first person. Once I made that change, then the process became transformative. I became a vessel for Sophia, Neal, and Drew as I wrote each chapter.

I knew early on that I needed to add a permanent third to Sophia and Drew’s relationship. It seemed sad to continue on the path of having sex with a meaningless parade of people. Both of them deserved more. When I met Neal, I knew he was the man to take them to the next level. He was exactly who Sophia needed to help finalize her healing process, and he was the person who made Drew realize himself more fully as a Dominant. That twist surprised me too.

I had originally planned to continue inserting chapters from other Awakenings characters, but it detracted from the story, so I deleted the single one I ended up writing. It’s chapter 6.5, and it’s available for free download on my website.

Lastly, I had to move the subplot about Elysium along. Sophia, Neal, and Drew each needed to put their stamp on it, otherwise it wouldn’t quite be theirs.

Writing Surreal Neal was a joyful process, and I hope you very much enjoy this leg of their journey.

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