To help celebrate week 100 of Masturbation Monday, I’m sharing a hot excerpt from my latest release. So be warned, it’s steamy, explicit and naughty. Enjoy….
Gemma has a new man in her life. He’s rich, sexy and seems to know her so well, and this is only their second encounter in the bedroom. How’s it possible? Perhaps there is more to him than meets the eye…
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.
I opened wide to take him, then lingered on his gorgeous glans, running my tongue in loops around the rim. Gradually, tortuously for him no doubt, I descended. He gasped as I sucked hard. Glancing up, I witnessed his half-open eyes, the slightly ajar mouth—he was in heaven. Due to my training, my gag reflex was advantageously light. He groaned louder, rested his head on the backboard and released my hair. He understood—I didn’t need guidance. I teased him with my tongue and occasionally the edge of my teeth. I allowed as much of him inside my mouth, down my throat, as I could tolerate. With each plunge, I sucked harder. I stroked his exposed shaft with my hands while concentrating my oral efforts on his hard tip. There was a veneer of hair around his balls, a bush of blondness. Nice soft curls. I combed my fingers through the fuzz with each dip of my mouth. He’d grown bigger and I could barely manage the length of his shaft. Perhaps I teased him too much.
Suddenly he tugged on my hair. “No, not like this. I want to see your face. Go on top of me.” Big boss ordered and I complied.
I sank my pelvis, stretching my vaginal coils, angling for maximum penetration. As he held my hips steady, we started to undulate with rolling hips and gyrating humps. The wonderful friction as I ground down on his cock brought me to the brink. I revelled in keeping the pace in my control, however briefly. His face portrayed the same chiselled masculine features, but now with a trickle of sweat on his upper lip.
Those eyes were the only part of his face that seemed to change his expression. They had a remarkable ability to alter in intensity according to the ambient light or maybe, due to his internal emotions. Were they like windows, viewing points into his mind? The rest of him seemed to be ever fixed in an impassive, controlled expression. Why wouldn’t he show his feelings to me? I shut my eyes, unable to fathom him out or decide whether he was truly enjoying my vigorous pattern of movements.
A few minutes later he buried his face in my breasts. We came together, which I think pleased him, it certainly delighted me. Another guttural, earthy orgasm with no romantic frills—pure sexual pleasure and base in nature.
“Let’s shower,” Jason suggested. He eased out from under me with little effort, took my hand, and helped me off the bed.
On our second night of sex together, we entered in his spacious shower together. He handed me the shower gel and I cleaned him under the splashes of warm water. I used my hands as sensually as possible and he moaned softly under my gentle touch. I lathered up the soap and worked my way down from his neck, letting him rotate to rinse the suds off as I traversed his contours. When I reached his groin, he guided my hand around his penis. I bathed the hairs around his testicles with tender strokes and his cock jerked in response.
“Stop. Your turn.”
He pushed me against the tiles and liberally rubbed me with the fragrant gel. His palms were smooth, without calluses, and nothing like a working man’s. He massaged my shoulders with firm fingers, then my back, buttocks before kneeling behind me and stroking my thighs and calves. Rising back up, he turned me around to face him and worked the lather around my breasts. Flames had been ignited in my belly. A heat inside that wouldn’t cool down. I dripped a different wetness between my legs. As he cupped his hand on my sex, slipping a finger inside my pussy as if by accident, he smiled. I groaned, shut my eyes, arched my back and thrust my hips forward. I slammed my palms against the tiles as he drove his cock between my labia.
“Again, Mr Lucas?” I curled my lips and raised my eyebrows.
“Oh indeed, Miss Marshall.” Jason smothered his lips on my mouth and the water cascaded around us.
What happens when a kink loving woman has to come to terms with a traumatic episode in her life? Can the broken submissive learn to trust again?
When Gemma Marshall resigns from a good job to work as a lowly intern in the heart of the City of London, immediately, the elusive company boss, Jason Lucas, seduces her.
Following a whirlwind of weekend trysts at his country mansion, Jason’s need to dominate her re-awakens her terrifying nightmares and leads to revelations from both of them. What Jason seeks is an enduring relationship which means Gemma, if she wishes to win his heart and soul, has to return to the extraordinary life she’d left behind.
Can Gemma survive another relationship with an alluring master of the bedroom or will she finally turn her back on her natural desires?
Their passionate and highly erotic affair reaches crisis point when her ex-lover hunts her down, seeking retribution.
To Know You is a fictional account of two people who begin a journey together. It is a complete story. Both characters are sexy and know what they want. Neither are novices, neither expect love in their relationship. One takes control and the other yields. In the bedroom, there are the erotic scenes of BDSM, discipline and romance. The dynamic can be intoxicating—and dangerous.
Trust is key. Communicating trust. Building trust and maintaining integrity. And love? It’s not always about love – until Gemma meets Jason.
Previously published as Trust Me to Know You
Review for first edition:
I really liked this book. The first book in the series, it explores the intriguing and unlikely romance between Gemma Marshall and Jason Lucas. She is a submissive with a troubled past and he is a enigmatic dominant. The author kept the story interesting with subtle plot twists and hot steamy sex scenes!