Strip away the covers – #Wipitup

Less of a work in progress, more of a re-work in progress. I published a book a few years ago, then withdrew it while I worked on other projects.  After a period off the shelves, so to speak, it’s back, almost. To Know You is the beginning of a story that spans more than one book. However, I made damn sure there’s a complete story with each one, too. So wherever you start, there is an ending to enjoy.

I don’t often release sexy scenes, however Jason and Gemma are all about sex and dominance and submission, all wrapped up together. Here’s an excerpt where they’re learning all about each other.

***

The first night nerves had vanished. A sense of excitement, not anxiety, entombed me.

“Strip!” Jason commanded, without a please or thank you. I didn’t question his behaviour, instead, I happily complied. Within seconds I was naked and stood before him quite unashamed of my rapid divesting.

“You are one hot babe,” Jason inspected me with a broad grin.

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. My figure was commendable: slender and curvy. Breasts, a good size—plump and rounded. Hair, brunette and mid-length. My eyes, light green. He focused his attention on the apex of my thighs.

“Um, I prefer it smooth down there, if you don’t mind.” He gestured with his finger at my pubic hair.

I’d probably gone bright pink with embarrassment. I’d let it grow back over the last few months, since there had been no need to keep it trim.

“Oh, I’ll sort it for next time. There will be a next time?” Where were we going with our newly created relationship? I wanted the ambiguity cleared up then and there. I’d no plans to spend another week filled with doubt. Jason Lucas either wanted to spend time with me, or not.

Jason hovered, still fully clothed, still admiring my naked body. He pursed his lips and folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I think I’m going to want to fuck you quite a lot if you keep carrying on like that. So let’s say it is worth you getting that Brazilian,” he smiled. “Babe, you’re driving me crazy. Let’s get to it.”

For a moment, I froze, not in shock, but to give myself the opportunity to absorb him. I needed a few seconds to take in the scenario and what it would entail. I wasn’t one for love at first sight or even the necessity for finding my bedfellow physically attractive. In my extraordinary past, I’d been with many men who outwardly had done nothing for me on first meeting and then delivered a fantastic time between the sheets. What had attracted me to them was inside them, tucked away and out of sight from the visual range. I could sense its presence. A magnetic pull that reached out and grabbed me. With Jason, I felt it again. With it came the additional pleasure of finding him physically appealing. Yet, even with that, there was something else about him. Something completely alluring and needed by me—was this how love began? I shrugged off the peculiar emotion. I’d never been in love before.

An hour later, I lay panting on the bed with a sticky mess between my legs. Crikey, Jason knew his positions too. Sideways, bent, astride, standing—we navigated the bed and floor. It hadn’t felt like love-making—too frantic and necessary. Just as he behaved in the workplace he led, controlling everything, constantly stopping and starting so I never reached my climax until he allowed it. In a short space of time, he’d become vastly knowledgeable about my sexual profile: eager, daring, rough and a willing receptacle for his pleasure.

His expertise was incredible. The man knew how to have sex as if he held a copy of Joy of Sex or the Karma Sutra in his head. My previous lovers generally stuck to a couple of positions for the duration. Whereas Jason and I had started with the lovely calm lotus position: he sat cross-legged with me astride him. After the gentle build up, which hadn’t lasted long once he discovered the extent of my wetness and how gaping my pussy had become, he’d manipulated me into all kinds of positions: scissoring me, then cowboy style, and I leapt into each one breathlessly, and without difficulty.

“Stand up.” He slipped his stiff cock out of me.

I scowled a fraction and muttered a curse under my breath: I’d been close to my orgasm.

“Come on,” he cajoled. With amazing ease, he lifted me up off the floor. “Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed and with a little jiggling around, he re-entered me as I lowered myself onto his erection.

“Oh my!” I shrilled.

Up and down I rode that fine cock. He possessed incredible strength and his legs were concrete pillars. Yet again, he halted just as I reached the pinnacle. Another ruined orgasm.

“Oh please,” I muttered.

“Is this too challenging for you?” he asked, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“No, not at all,” I smirked. Ruined orgasms had their upside—when I finally came it would be wondrous.

“Good.” He lay beside me on the bed and I flopped backwards.

The next thing I knew he’d bent my legs so my feet almost touched my ears. My bottom was raised, my sex folds swollen and parted—Ooo the Viennese oyster! Unfortunately, I wasn’t especially flexible and he needed to grip my ankles to prevent me unfolding. “Sorry, I’m not like origami!”

He chuckled. “You’re right. I’ve got to hold you still. Okay?”

His restraining hands were necessary to keep me in place. I nodded in agreement and shut my eyes as he thrust into the depths of my molten pussy. He built up a frenetic pace.

“I’m coming!” I wailed. Just as the divine convulsions started he pressed his thumbs hard into the upturned soles of my feet. Pain shot across the tender instep and I shrieked. Immediately, he eased off. Even with the interruption, my orgasm rocketed, unperturbed by intrusive thumbs. Releasing me, he lifted his weight from me. So far, he’d not achieved an ejaculation or orgasm.

He sat up on the bed next to me, and as I recovered from my orgasm, he stroked his erection, almost absentmindedly. “I think, Miss Marshall, you need to clean me.”

I lowered my jaw with fake surprise.

“Yep, that’s right, mouth open.” He leant back.

I crawled across the expanse of bed and knelt next to him. He bundled my hair into his fist and dragged my head down to meet his shiny cock.

“You’ve done this before?” he belatedly asked me.

“Yes, yes.” Perhaps said a little too eagerly. At some point, he would want to know from where my previous experience came.