Grand Slam by Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse is Just 99c/p! (@lily_harlem @cw1985)

Grand Slam by Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse is Just 99c/p! (@lily_harlem @cw1985) #sale #99c


To celebrate the Australian Open, the eBook version of BDSM sports romance novel Grand Slam is just 99c/p until the 29th January!


A Raw Talent book.

California had seduced me with promises of a new life working at Los Carlos Tennis Academy. What I didn’t expect was the dark, brooding number one seed, Travis Connolly, resisting my help. He wasn’t interested in my psychology skills. Instead his attention was drawn to the edgy, sharper corners of my desires, proving that they existed, setting me challenges and driving me crazy to the point of combustion.

I’m the best tennis player in the world—officially—so why would I need a damn woman full of psychobabble to get me on form? Despite my irritation, however, I can’t resist pushing Marie Sherratt’s buttons even though doing that shows her the darkest shades of my lust, the parts of me I buried deep. So I set her a challenge, one she rises to, one that has me rising too, and before long my game relies on her calling the shots, hitting the target and bending to my will. One thing was certain, being not just master of the court, but also of Marie is seriously good for my soul.


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Everything I’ve Dreamed Of By Norah Bennett


Everything I’ve Dreamed Of By Norah Bennett

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Kate Willowbrook dreams of a life filled with beauty –– a man who loves her, friends, and a home. At eighteen, Kate’s dreams are replaced by nightmares when she witnesses a crime. Kate runs, never settling down or trusting anyone. Ten years later Kate discovers the small town of Lakes Crossing and Noah Reed.

When Noah’s wife is killed in an accident, he buries himself in work and family obligations, believing he will never find love again until he meets Kate. The more he learns about her, the more he is drawn to her and his protective instincts kick into overdrive.

Noah is everything Kate has ever dreamed of, but his take-charge attitude is scaring up old demons she fought hard to bury. If they can’t find a way to strike a balance that satisfies both their deepest needs, they could lose their second chance at love.

Kate pierced him with her green eyes. “I’m certain there’s no shortage of women who would be happy to go out with you. Why me?”

Noah’s cocky grin faded into a soft smile that stole her breath. His eyes darkened as he focused on her. She could feel the heat creeping up her cheeks again, and she couldn’t believe she asked him that question. She didn’t even know why she did, except that she wanted to hear his answer. If she let herself fall for this beautiful man, with a killer smile and the softest brown eyes in the world, she’d fall hard and fast. If she were just a toy to him, one that he got bored of and discarded after a while, she’d be devastated. She had lost so much already and survived, but Kate wasn’t sure she could survive his games. If she allowed herself to hope and dream of a life with Noah but then lost it all, she’d crumble, and no amount of superglue would put her back together.

Kate waited for his answer, her eyes locked with his and he didn’t let her down.

“Yes, I won’t deny that I’ve dated other women and there are those who wouldn’t turn me down for a date, but they’re not you.”

Noah reached for her hand, and she let him feel the tremble that ran through her as he engulfed her small hand in his. He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers, never taking his gaze off her.

“You say you’re not special to anyone, but that’s not true. I see something special, someone special. I know we don’t know each other very well, but if you give us a chance to change that, together, we may be something special. We won’t know unless we try.”

Kate’s breath hitched, and her heart squeezed. Jesus, the man had a way with words. How did he know what she needed to hear? Now she understood what Roberta Flack meant when she sang, Killing me Softly. He was clawing at the door to her heart, and she didn’t think she was strong enough to resist him, even knowing that she may get shredded if she let him in.

Kate dropped her gaze again as they began to fill. Her breathing was ragged, and her heart broke its confines and was on the run. Whether it wanted to be caught by Noah or not, Kate wasn’t certain.


Kate had waited thirty-one years to hear someone call her special. She struggled to rein in her emotions and push back the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. She wanted to go out with Noah so badly it hurt. She wanted to get to know him and to be a part of his world, but she was terrified. Good visited her very few times in her life. The instant it arrived, she began preparing for its departure. Good was a temporary visitor and a fickle one at that.

“Come on, Kate. I can sense you’re afraid. I swear I’m a nice guy. I’ll do my damnedest not to disappoint or hurt you. Take a chance. Take a chance on me.”

Kate heard the vulnerability in Noah’s voice. She explored his handsome face, a face she was sure she would never tire of admiring. All traces of his earlier cockiness vanished. Instead, it was replaced by a rawness, an earnestness, a tenderness she’d never seen before. That was the look Kate would remember for a lifetime. Years from now, she would say that was the exact moment she knew, if Noah Reed asked her, she would be his for a lifetime.

Kate let out a slow breath and with a soft smile, she whispered, “Okay, Noah Reed. I’ll take a chance … a chance on you. I’ll go out with you.”


About The Author


Norah lives a double life. By day she is a suit-wearing, prim and proper, professor, administrator, researcher, and lecturer. By night she is a PJ wearing dreamer and writer of books that make people sigh, smile, cry, laugh, fall in love and believe in second chances.

Norah lives in Andover, New Jersey with her husband of thirty years, a cranky geriatric maltipoo, and an obnoxious cockatoo who runs the house and terrifies all its inhabitants.

Norah discovered the joy and escapism that comes from reading at the age of twelve and swears books saved her life and her sanity. Through reading, she has travelled the globe and learned all kinds of equally useful and useless skills such as the proper way to eat a pomegranate, carve a watermelon, or bathe an elephant. These are skills she has passed down to her two daughters who are incredibly supportive, but often wish she had a wider scope of hobbies.

Norah has a long publishing history in academia, but she started writing fiction recently. In July 2016 she published her first work of fiction, R.I.L.Y. Forever with Evernight Publishing and in January 2017 her second book, Everything I’ve Dreamed Of, was also published by Evernight Publishing. Currently, she is working on her third novel, Six Months. Digital and print copies of her books can be purchased at Amazon

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In Bonds of the Earth, the second Book of the Watchers by Janine Ashbless (@sinfulpress)

Cover Reveal – In Bonds of the Earth, the second Book of the Watchers by Janine Ashbless (@sinfulpress)



Would you defy God, for love?


In Bonds of the Earth is the new paranormal erotic romance by Janine Ashbless, and is the second in the Book of the Watchers trilogy. It is due for release on March 1st 2017.


Broad at the shoulders and lean at the hips, six foot-and-then-something of ropey muscle, he looks like a Spartan god who got lost in a thrift store. He moves like ink through water. And his eyes, when you get a good look at them, are silver. Not gray. Silver. You might take their inhuman shine for fancy contact lenses. Youd be wrong.



“I will free them all.”

When Milja Petak released the fallen angel Azazel from five thousand years of imprisonment, she did it out of love and pity. She found herself in a passionate sexual relationship beyond her imagining and control – the beloved plaything of a dark and furious demon who takes what he wants, when he wants, and submits to no restraint. But what she hasn’t bargained on is being drawn into his plan to free all his incarcerated brothers and wage a war against the Powers of Heaven.

As Azazel drags Milja across the globe in search of his fellow rebel angels, Milja fights to hold her own in a situation where every decision has dire consequences. Pursued by the loyal Archangels, she is forced to make alliances with those she cannot trust: the mysterious Roshana Veisi, who has designs of her own upon Azazel; and Egan Kansky, special forces agent of the Vatican – the man who once saved then betrayed her, who loves her, and who will do anything he can to imprison Azazel for all eternity.

Torn every way by love, by conflicting loyalties and by her own passions, Milja finds that she too is changing – and that she must do things she could not previously have dreamt of in order to save those who matter to her.

In Bonds of the Earth is the second in the Book of the Watchers trilogy and the sequel to Cover Him With Darkness.


Excerpt from In Bonds of the Earth:

I was giving my long-dreaded presentation on the anniversary footbridge to Misters Ellis, Singh, Constanzo and Mackenzie…when Azazel walked in.

Oh hell.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I said loudly, lurching around from behind my desk, grabbing Azazel’s arm and spinning him back to face the door. “Not here, come on, please,” I implored through clenched teeth.

If there was one thing I’d learned by then, it was to not ignore warning dreams. If I’d paid them more attention from the start, things between me and Egan might have gone very differently back in Montenegro…

No, better not to think of Egan, not when Azazel was around. One guy at a time was quite enough to wrap my head around. Especially this guy.

He humored me though, this time, letting me pull him out of the meeting room and through the open plan office without resistance. We attracted a lot of stares, but there was nothing I could do about that except hold my head high.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Out. Anywhere.”

“You’re so impetuous.”

I didn’t need to glance up at his wicked smirk. I could feel it burning its way into my breast.

Bryce, the beardy guy in my new team who’d shown me the ropes of the job and seemed just a tiny bit too eager to talk every morning, stood up from his cubicle to intercept us. “Milja, is everything okay?”

“It’s just fine,” I rasped, towing Azazel faster.

“She’s insatiable,” my demon lover confided with a helpless shrug to my colleague as we swept past.

Bryce stared, mouth open.

“Goddamnit,” I muttered, and Azazel chuckled.

Sometimes it was hard to remember that he’d risked everything to save me.

We reached the doors at the end of the room and I pushed through, past the lobby with the elevators and into the concrete stairwell of the emergency stairs beyond. The only people who came here were smokers on their way to the roof, and it looked empty for now. My panicky momentum fizzled away and I swung to face him.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” he countered, taking my face in his hands.

“Azazel—” But he cut off my protests with his hungry kiss; a kiss that lanced through me all the way to my core. I gave up resisting, and speaking, and almost breathing, as his lust rolled over me in a hot wet wave. I slid my hands around his neck and tangled my fingers in his messy hair, pulling myself into his embrace. His body was hard as rock, his hands heavy on my waist and hips. The yearning for his touch that smoldered in my flesh day and night woke to a roaring heat.

I’d missed him. His skin, his smile, the peppery scent and salt taste of him. The sweetness of his lips and the harsh rasp of his stubbled chin. I’d missed him so much. Like an addict missing her hit.

Author bio:

Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.

Buyer beware! If you like dark romance and a hard-won Happily Ever After, try “Cover Him with Darkness,” “Heart of Flame,” or “The King’s Viper.” If you prefer challenging erotica, go for “Red Grow the Roses” or “Named and Shamed” instead. All her other books lie somewhere on the spectrum between.

Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology ‘Geek Love’.

Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and – for five years of muddy feet and shouting – as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.

Her work has been described as:

“Hardcore and literate” (Madeline Moore) and “Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love.” (Portia Da Costa)


Janine Ashbless website:

Janine Ashbless on Facebook:

Sinful Press website:


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Field of Trust by Jacqueline Anne

Field of Trust

Book Two of The Field Series

© Jacqueline Anne 2017

Release Date – January 11, 2017

Photo of beautiful female body in sexy lingerie on a dark background

Buccaneers pitcher Tyson Best is captivated by vibrant artist Cece Schmidt, and he is determined to uncover the mystery lurking in her eyes.

Cece knows her one-night rule will never be enough with Tyson. Frustrated with the hold her corrupted family still has over her, Cece can no longer ignore her feelings for Tyson, despite his high-profile career and the life she ran away from. After confessing partial truths about her past, Cece and Tyson begin their secret romance.

Tyson knows they have a strong connection and refuses to let someone special run out on him like his parents did years ago. In order to protect Cece, he seeks the whole truth about her past and in the process unveils crime and terror.

When Cece receives a threat from her uncle, she is desperate to end the fear once and for all—but first, she will have to play a dangerous game.

Will trust and love pull them through?

*coming soon to other sites



Story Excerpt

“Damn, that hurt,” she grumbled.

“Cece?” He knew something had happened. The least he could do was help, so Tyson walked back…and immediately halted. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

In the midst of what looked like a junkyard, sat Cece slumped over with her legs sprawled out in front of her. Her long, dark hair was pulled up into some crazy concoction on the top of her head, which oddly enough, closely resembled a pineapple. Although her face showed feelings of loss and frustration, her blue eyes still drew him in. Her body was covered in paint, and her clothes were a complete mess.

His heartbeat picked up a few paces as he swallowed hard. He was seeing her in her element for the very first time. To him, Cece looked flawless.

“Oh God. What are you doing back here?” she grumbled, visibly annoyed and embarrassed.

He stepped over the mess and noticed an old wooden ladder on its side, broken in two places. “Lending a hand.” He outstretched his and she reluctantly took it. He pulled her up, accidently covering his hand with paint.

“Thanks. Sorry about the paint. I’ll get you some towels.”

Tyson shrugged it off. He didn’t care about the paint. “I actually stopped by to shop. The helping part was needed.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. She had no reason to be embarrassed. Accidents happened. “Are you okay?”

Cece looked down at her body. “I think so. I won’t know the extent of the damage until I get all the paint off.”

“The color looks good on you.” Tyson was really hoping he could lighten her mood.

“Ugh. This is so humiliating.” Cece took a few steps and hissed. “Okay, damage to the leg for sure.”

“Here, let me help you.” Tyson swooped her up into his arms.

“Tyson! No! Now you have paint all over you,” she scolded.

“I don’t care. They’re just clothes, Cece. Where’s the bathroom?” He couldn’t care less about his clothes. Now, having Cece in his arms? That was another story.

Cece pointed to a small corridor. Tyson walked sideways with her cradled in his arms, so they could both fit down the narrow hall.

Once he reached the tiny bathroom, he set her on her feet. She hobbled a step and sat on the closed toilet. He grabbed some paper towels and handed them to her. He watched her closely as she cleaned the paint off her skin.

She looked up at him and caught him staring. He cleared his throat and glanced up at the ceiling, slightly embarrassed she noticed. He couldn’t help it, though. Now that she had been in his arms, he wanted to know more of how her skin felt and how she tasted, preferably without the paint.

“You don’t have to stay back here with me. Go ahead and shop. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“I don’t mind, Cece. I want to check out your leg once you get the paint off.”

She rubbed over an area of her leg and flinched.

Tyson grabbed some more paper towels and wet them. “Here, let me,” he insisted, kneeling in front of her. He cautiously began wiping away the paint.

* * * *

Cece was thoroughly humiliated and thankful the red paint was covering her flushed skin. She was watching how gentle Tyson was being with her. The star pitcher was tall, strong, and confident. And here he was taking care of her, a feeling she never experienced before. She suddenly felt claustrophobic in the small space and took a few calming breaths.

“Ah, there we go. You have one nasty bruise which is already appearing. No bleeding, or at least I don’t think so. Hard to tell with the red paint.”

“Crimson,” she corrected. Thinking about art and colors usually relaxed her—up until she fell off that rickety ancient ladder. She was pissed at herself for daydreaming too long about the piece she was working on.

He grazed over her leg, causing goosebumps to break out over her body which seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Crimson,” he repeated, looking at her with a soft smile. “I think you are going to live.”

“Too bad I can’t say the same for the artwork I fell on.” She stood and winced, pain radiating through her leg. Not a good sign.

“Still hurts?”

She nodded, bracing herself on the bathroom sink.

“I’ll take you home.”

After bickering with him over the fact she could take care of herself, in pain or not, she let out a frustrating groan and realized he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She was certain Tyson knew she would be okay, but why push it when he was offering to help. He was too kind. He was quite charming as well, even though she didn’t want to admit it.

It was a lethal combination.


Adult Excerpt

Her admission shattered him in the most amazing way. He nodded at first, trying to get the blood to flow through his body properly, rather than straight south. He wanted to carefully choose his next words to reassure her and to prove she was so goddamn special to him.

“If there is anything I ever do that you don’t like, all you have to do is tell me to stop. I will stop immediately with no questions asked. We can always discuss anything before we try it. If you are uncomfortable, we can wait or not do it at all. Understand?”

“Yes,” she stated, looking at him straight on. “But, I am ready and willing.”

“Cece, baby.” He smoothed his dark hand over her cheek. “You deserve to be cherished like the finest treasures.” He watched as her pupils dilated, loving the way her body gave him feedback as to what she enjoyed. She may have been used to one-night stands prior to him, but Tyson was going to treat her to a whole other world—a world she deserved. A world he wanted to give her. “Right here on this dryer…I’m going to feast on that beautiful pussy of yours until you come on my face. Then I am going to bend you over and sink my cock so deep inside you that your screams of erotic pleasure will be echoing off these walls.”

Cece bit her lip. Tyson knew by looking at her it wasn’t because she was nervous. No. She was downright turned on and anxious to get started.

Without breaking eye contact with her, he slid his hands up her legs, under her skirt. He felt the lace of her panties and looped his thumbs onto the sides.

“Lift up, gorgeous.”

She leaned back and lifted her hips. He pulled at her thong and slowly dragged them down her legs. His body following them. He unbuckled her left sandal and pressed soft kisses on her foot. He repeated the same amorous deed with her other foot. He explored her legs with his tongue and lips, ending on the tops of her upper thighs.

“Spread for me.”

She did. He placed her feet up on the dryer. Her skirt scrunched around her waist, completely exposing her beautiful, glistening pussy to him. Tyson licked his lips while Cece closely watched him.

“So beautiful, Cece. I love how you are always wet for me.” He ran a finger along her wet folds.

“Only for you,” she whimpered.

He brought his wet finger up to her mouth. “Taste yourself, baby.” She opened her mouth for him, and he stuck his finger in just a little. Her tongue darted out to lick him. He couldn’t resist sharing her sweet taste. Tyson licked her along with his finger, enjoying the experience with her.

“So good.”

He lifted her shirt over her head and removed her bra. Her nipples already in hard peaks. He twirled his tongue around one, and then the other. A stimulating moan vibrated off her lips. He shifted his mouth  lower and lower. He breathed in her scent, enjoying how much more intoxicating it was now.

“I want you to let it all go, Cece. Give me everything.”

“Yes,” she said breathily.

He dipped his head and licked the entire length of her pussy. He fucking loved the way she tasted. He pushed his tongue inside her, drinking her up. Her lips swelling for him, already eager for a release. He wanted to hold her off just a bit longer. He wanted to watch her completely unravel for him.

“Tyson,” she moaned, her fingers clutching at his shoulders.

He carefully removed her hands from his body and placed them on her breasts, massaging them together before he released his hands.

“Keep them there,” he gently demanded.

Watching Cece play with her tits and having her legs wide open for him was fucking incredible. He gave her clit a suck and heard her sharp intake of breath. Not yet, he thought and went back to fucking her with his tongue. Every once in a while he glanced up at her. Her breaths quickened as she got lost in his touch. The more he licked her, the more eager she was with her tits. Stunning. He pushed three of his fingers deep inside her and moved his tongue around her clit.

“Oh God. Oh God,” she chanted.

He could feel her clamping down on him and lightly bit her clit.

“Holy fuck,” she cried out. Her legs shuddered. She squeezed her nipples tightly. Tyson continued devouring her until every quake and clench had subsided.

He quickly picked her up off the dryer and spun her around. His shorts and boxers were around his ankles in record time. He bent her over and drove into her. She was dripping wet. The sounds of him thrusting in and out of her echoed throughout the small space.

“You feel so fucking magnificent,” he groaned.

He moved harder, faster. She met his demands, pushing back, bringing him in even deeper.

“Fuck me harder, Tyson. So hard,” she panted.

His fingers dug into her hips. He gave the woman what she asked for. As much as she thought he was in control, he wasn’t. His body gave her what hers unknowingly demanded. He wanted to please her as much as she wanted to please him. It was a fascinating thing to watch unfold.

He felt her clenching around his cock.

“Come with me,” he gritted, trying to hang on with her.

Erotic screams released from her throat as she gripped him like a vice, milking him of his orgasm.

“Fuck yeah,” he shouted, filling her.

He draped his body over hers, their breathing erratic. Their bodies covered in sweat. His lips danced over her back.

“I don’t think laundry day will ever be the same,” he declared.

Cece giggled. He grinned at the splendor of the melodic sound.




Have you read Book One of The Field Series?

Field of Passion and Dreams

Graham Grayson is a hard worker and all around gentlemen. His dream to play in the majors like his dad just came true. He was called up to be the catcher for the Pittsburgh Buccaneers. On the day of team photos, he meets photojournalist Jordan Michaela Roy.

Still grieving the loss of her dad, Jordan sets aside emotions and memories of her sports reporter father to find her passion again on the field as a sports photojournalist. While working spring training for Major League Baseball, she never anticipates passion igniting off the field, too.

Neither Graham nor Jordan can deny their explosive attraction or the happiness they feel being with each other. Their fathers’ past friendship has them wondering about destiny.

While they worry about the demands of their careers, traveling, and being in the public eye, nothing can prepare Graham for the devastating news that makes him question life, his dream, and love.

Will Graham realize his mistakes before it is too late?





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The Psychology of Dreams 101 by K D Grace (@kd_grace)

Out Now–The Psychology of Dreams 101 by K D Grace (@kd_grace)



What if there was punishment when you didn’t dream the right dreams? That’s the dilemma Leah Kent, and her professor, Al Foster must face—dream right, or take the punishment. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a wander into the sexy and dark unconscious as Leah takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required dream journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys. But not all dreams are pleasant ones, and some have far-reaching repercussions in the waking world.

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“Now then, let’s see if we can’t ease the pain in you lovely little bottom before we get on with the spanking, ” Dr. Clyde said before Leah could ask what he meant by his remark about them never getting out of the dream. He rummaged and rattled through the surprising abundance of the desk drawers until he came up with a tube of something she couldn’t see in her bent-over position, but as he unscrewed the lid, she immediately smelled peaches. There was the sound of something squirting, and then she felt the doctor’s large palm spreading cool lotion against her burning butt. She sighed and clenched at the pleasure of it. “There now. That feels better, doesn’t it hon? Just what the doctor ordered. We don’t want that lovely ass of yours too wounded just yet. Your punishment has hardly begun, after all.”

“Peach? Seriously?” Al said, coming closer to observe and sniffing as he did so.

“Yup! And it’s edible too,” Dr. Clyde said. “Taste. Not like that, Dear God, Al, put the tube down, and use your imagination. You’re in a dream for fuck sake! And you,” he turned his attention back to Leah, “you lie still. You’re being punished. You don’t get to see what’s happening. You have to trust the dream, trust that what happens next is all a part of the experience.”

“Enough of the psycho-babble, already, Derrick. We get it,” Al protested. There was a shuffling of male bodies behind her, and Leah felt a different set of hands, clearly Al’s hands. They were not quite as large as Dr. Clyde’s, but they were slightly calloused. She wondered how someone who taught courses on dream psychology got calloused hands. He gently cupped her hips, careful not to touch her wounded left ass-cheek. Then she felt the humid heat of his breath just before his warm wet tongue pressed against the place where her thigh met her left buttock.

“Oh God!” she managed, as the unexpected, but delightful, sinuous lap of his tongue up the rounded contour of her ass cheek moved inward, closer to the cleft that she knew would taste nothing at all like peaches. Meanwhile the doctor droned on that though at one point in our evolution, we liked the scents and odors of the body, at present that was less the case, and scented and flavored lubricants and lotions for sex often made the partners more comfortable with their personal smells.

“I like her smell,” came Al’s muffled reply. “It’s her I want to taste, not fucking peaches.”

“Wait a minute, you can smell me? I mean I’m sure you can smell me now, but … before?”

“I ha’ a ‘en’ative nothe,” came the slurped reply against her ass, and she decided right then and there that she was just fine with that.

“I fail to see how eating her out is going to help ease the pain at all,” Dr. Clyde observed as Al licked and slurped and nibbled ever closer to the ache at the center that had nothing to do with the spanking.

“It’s my dream.” Leah protested, wriggling and squirming to open her legs against the restraint of the panties around her knees. “If I want him to do … that, then surely he should do that.”

“It’s hardly a punishment though, is it?” the doctor said, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest observing Al’s efforts from the edge of Leah’s peripheral vision.

“Who the fuck ca —  res?” she managed with a little gasp as Al fingered her open to make room for his very talented tongue.

She was just getting into it, just beginning to think that maybe Al’s tongue was prehensile when she heard a grunt and opened her eyes to discover the good doctor had moved closer, and he was now observing with his trousers open, his gaze locked on what Al was doing to her bottom and his fist locked around his heavy erection, which pointed accusingly at her ass as he shifted his hips to free his balls. Not that she wanted him to stop or anything, but she was just about to comment that she failed to see what his cock stroking had to do with her punishment when the sudden absence of a warm tongue from her nether region and the sound of a zipper opening told her that, in solidarity with his fellow male, Al had just freed Simba. She pressed her legs tightly together and wriggled just enough for the binding panties to drop to the floor. Then she kicked them aside and she was free too, opening her thighs anticipating more than Al’s tongue when the damn doctor called a halt to all activities.

“Now what?” Both she and Al growled at the same time.

“You’re not supposed to fuck her, Al. You’re supposed to spank her, punish her, make her repentant.”

“Oh I am,” she managed breathlessly. “I’m very repentant. I’ll never write down fake dreams again.”

Dr. Clyde ignored her. “Look, in the dreams, you’re both being punished. No one gets satisfaction until the punishment is complete.”

“Seriously?” Leah said, and Al cursed profusely. Under different circumstance to hear such foul language from the mouth of her mild-mannered instructor would have shocked her, but at the moment, she was inclined to agree with him completely.

“Well, I suppose I could have some satisfaction,” the doctor added with a little shrug of his broad shoulders, and the movement made his dick look like it shrugged too in its anxious agreement. “After all it’s not my dream and I’m not being punished.” Cock in hand, he insinuated himself between Al and Leah and with a quiver of anticipation, Leah wriggled against the table as he fingered her open.

“Wait a minute,” Al said. “This is Leah’s dream. What if she doesn’t want you to fuck her? What if she just wants to get on with it?”

“No, no! That’s all right. I’m good with it. I’m fine.” Leah just wanted someone to fuck her and soon! Since it was her dream, why not the good doctor? He was certainly ready.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t put your cock in her mouth if you want,” Dr. Clyde said to Al. “I suppose that could be considered punishment. It could certainly be considered humiliation in most BDSM circles, if done under the right circumstances, or so I’m told,” he added quickly.

“What if I put my cock up your ass instead,” Al said, shocking both Leah and Dr. Clyde as he yanked at the waistband of the man’s expensive trousers.

Before the doctor could protest, Leah added her own bit of profanity to the blue language hanging in the air. “It’s my dream, damn it! So just put your fucking cock in his fucking hole already! I don’t see how that can affect my punishment. And when you do, I want to see, so Doc, if you’ll just hand me the mirror.”

“Wait a minute, Al’s the Dom, not you.”

“Shut up, Doc!” both she and Al said at once.

“It’s my dream,” Leah repeated, “Besides,” she added quickly, “I’ve never seen a man fuck a man before.”

“Come to think of it, neither have I,” Dr. Clyde said. “Do you think you can angle the mirror so I can see too.”


About K D Grace/Grace Marshall

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves mythology. She enjoys spending time in the gym – right now she’s having a mad affair with a pair of kettle bells. She loves to read, watch birds and do anything that gets her outdoors.

KD has erotica published with Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. Find Grace’s novels here.

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