Wendy Dennison is tired of being astarving author. The royalties from hercritically acclaimed romance novelsbarely pay her bills. Her devoted agentDaniel Rochester may be smart and sexy,but he can't get her the sales she needs.Then a charismatic stranger appears ather coffee shop table, promising her fameand commercial success, as well as thechance to live out her dreams of eroticsubmission. But at what cost?
Nothing you can't afford to lose, my dear.
Seduced by the enigmatic Mister B, shesigns his infernal contract. He becomesboth her Master and her coach, managingher suddenly flourishing career as well asencouraging her lusts. Under her mentor’snefarious influence, she surrenders totemptation and has sex with Daniel. Thecasual encounter turns serious when shediscovers her mild mannered agent has adominant side. As the clock ticks down toher blockbuster release and Mister Bprepares to claim her soul, Wendy mustchoose either celebrity and wealth, orobscurity and true love.
The smoke-tinted windows created a perpetual twilight within the vehicle. An equally dark barrier separated the spacious back seat from the driver in front. No one could see the lewd manner in which Mister B dragged her shirt up to her armpits and her bra down to her waist, exposing her ample breasts. When he twisted her nipple with impeccably manicured fingers, lust poured through her, as though he’d opened a spigot. Her pussy overflowed to further drench her already-sodden panties. She squirmed on the slick seat, hungry for stimulation.
Without releasing her breast, he rubbed two fingers along the damp seam of her jeans. Wendy couldn’t suppress a desperate moan. He chuckled as he sniffed his fingertips. “Your fragrance is exquisite, my dear.” Cupping her pubis, he ground the heel of his hand against her clit while his fingers beat out a frustrating rhythm against the tightly stretched denim between her thighs.
She hadn’t been this turned on in months—no, years. The substantial bulge at his fly told her he was also aroused, but somehow she didn’t dare touch him. Though he had yet to give her any orders, he had made it clear she had to obey him if she wanted to reap the benefits of this strange arrangement.
Meanwhile, an odd passivity had taken her over. He’d told her not to think, but only to feel. Her rational self, the part that screamed warnings about engaging in sexual trysts with total strangers, had retreated to some distant corner of her mind, leaving only a hunger to be touched, a craving to be filled, a shameful desire to be used and even abused.
“I know what you want, Gwen. What you truly need. I’ve read all your stories of implacable masters and eager slaves. But you never go all the way in your tales, do you? You don’t dare show the world the true depths of your depravity.”
His words inflamed her almost as much as his actions.
“I—oh!” He ripped open her fly and forced his hand down the front of her jeans, under the elastic of her underwear, into her soaked and swollen cunt. His fingers were like tongues of flame as they probed her cleft and teased her clit. “Oh, please…I can’t bear it…”
As quickly as they’d arrived, his fingers were gone, leaving her empty and aching. She gazed at him in a state of horny disbelief as he used a monogrammed hankie from his breast pocket to clean her juices from his elegant hands. “I shall decide what you must bear, my sweet little slave. Now I believe we’ve arrived at your abode, where we can explore this question further. You should fix your clothing.”
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LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.
You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.