It’s Monday and a hot day, not weather wise, this is England, but certainly the words on my screen are toasting. Join in the Masturbation Monday fun and meet a character from my latest book, Sophia and the Duke, a young widow with too much time on her hands.
Sophia has been threatened with a thrashing after been caught trying to kiss Fitzwilliam when she should be cloistered away in a state of mourning. What wicked thoughts is she conjuring up now!
Returning to her present misfortune and with a deep sigh, Sophia dismissed her late, but unremarkable husband from her mind, and returned to the current problem—her disgruntled grandmother. Maria had never threatened her before with a spanking. It had come as a shock to hear the word spring out of her mouth, not once, but twice! Thankfully, the spanking had not materialised. She cringed at the image of Uncle Pierre’s hands, which were covered in warts.
However, young Fitzwilliam’s hands had been a different matter. What would have happened if a younger man had taken her over his knee and spanked her bottom?
Sophia squirmed on her bed, trying hard not to let her mind wander down paths it should not take.
It was no good. It had happened too easily—the excitement of almost being touched by a man had set off a wave of delightful sensations about her body and they originated from her sex. She fidgeted, crossing and uncrossing her ankles, frustrated by her meandering thoughts. What if Fitzwilliam had been a little older, even broader across the chest, stouter in his arms and less unsure of himself. What if he had followed her upstairs, informed her with a stern voice that her grandmother had been correct in her admonishment—she had tricked him.
Sophia slid her hand over her breasts, feeling the rigidity of her nipples, down she roved, dipping into her cinched waist until she came to the apex of her thighs. Keep going, she urged. Bending her knees, she reached down and found the hem of her skirts, all of them, including the petticoats, and dragged them up over her thighs and above her waist. She undid the cord about her waist and wriggled her hips. With a sudden burst of feverish abandonment, she drew her drawers down, uncovering her mound.
She slipped three fingers between her folds. So wet already and she grinned, pleased with her accomplishment. A pity no man was there to witness her eagerness. She glided her fingers along her slit and parted her labia. Back and forth, she rocked her hand, delving between those swollen lips and eventually she slid two fingers inside her soaked pussy.
“Oh, my,” she moaned.
No, not Fitzwilliam, not any longer he was not worthy of this! She wanted somebody older, demanding and firm of hand. This new imagining took shape and she pictured the scene. This time when commanded to the bedroom she would be naked, her clothes discarded and she would meekly face her disciplinarian. She’d plead with him, and he would shake his head and point at his lap. Over he would toss her, forcing her head down and gripping her tight about the waist with his muscular forearm.
She dismissed the idea of pain, dwelling instead on the sound of his smacks raining down on her poor writhing bottom, which would bounce up and down in time to his spanks and all the while, he uttered stern words of disapproval.
Sophia rubbed her clit harder and unable to contain her vivid daydream, she rolled onto her stomach, hitched down her drawers to unveil her bottom to the cool air and continued to grind her clitoris onto the heel of her palm, whilst her other hand squeezed a generous arse cheek, pretending it was sore and red hot.
“Oh, sir, please no more,” she moaned.
Her imagery assailant, a man whose body she’d rapidly undressed—allowing her to feel his stiffened cock under her hips—had grown in stature to the size of a brawny work man.
What kind of man would take a woman over his knee and spank her?
Did it matter? Nobody ever would. She humped up and down, attempting to slap her bottom and when she managed to elicit a stinging sensation, her clitoris burst alive and she came abruptly and with a strength that surprised her.
She pressed her mouth into her pillow and smothered a cry. On the ridiculous orgasm blossomed, until exhausted and hot, she melted into the bed. With some effort she extracted her drenched fingers and laid them on the pillow, watching her juices trickle over her knuckles. What an amazing experience, she concluded. It wasn’t the first time she sought to pleasure herself, but it had been the most successful and if she felt a pang of shame, she quickly dismissed the emotion, as she always did, ensuring it remained her guilty pleasure to endure.
She’d have to do it again and perhaps, it would help pass the time away as she spent the last six weeks of her mourning at Attingham House.
Regency romance – can love bridge the gap between a duchess and her colonial husband?
After the passing of her husband, the elderly Duke of Brockenhurst, twenty-two-year-old Sophia chafes at her family’s expectations during her lengthy mourning period. When she is free to re-emerge in society at last, at her grandmother’s insistence she entertains the courtship of Nathaniel Hartwell, a distant cousin of the old duke and the man next in line for the title.
To her shock, Sophia learns that Nathaniel has spent the last eight years living as a trapper and fur trader in the mountains of Canada, isolating himself from the world after the tragic death of the woman he loved. Though he is a rough, uncivilised man, his devilishly handsome looks and commanding presence excite her in a way nothing ever has before.
Sophia sets out to transform the new duke into someone suitable for polite society, but when her comments become disrespectful and mocking Nathaniel takes issue with her behaviour. Almost before she knows it, she is over his lap and her aristocratic bottom has been bared for a sound spanking.
Knowing that it is the right choice for all concerned, Nathaniel asks her to be his wife, but despite the fact that their marriage begins as one of convenience he is determined to show Sophia the intense pleasure a strong man’s dominant lovemaking can bring her. Though her spoiled attitude occasionally earns her a bright red, well-spanked bottom, as the weeks pass her desire for him grows ever stronger. But can love truly bridge the gulf between people from such different worlds?
Publisher’s Note: Sophia and the Duke is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, anal play, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
5* Amazon – Most definitely hot sex and D/s are at the core of the chemistry between Nathaniel and Sophia.
Read an extended excerpt here.