I’ve only recently become a member of House Tirgearryen (how cool is that?) but I’m very excited to be part of their big 5th Birthday Celebrations. You know what’s super awesome? They’re giving *you* the presents. Amazing huh?
There is a HUGE giveaway going on with a chance to win a new Kindle HD8 tablet, autographed print books, t-shirts and more All you need to do is go to tirpub.com/birthday and follow the instructions. You’ve got until the 8th March to join in.
There is also another way to celebrate, many Tirgearr books are reduced to just 99c/99p right now on kindle including my very own One Night in Manchester! So i’s the perfect time to pick up a novella full of romance, heat and submission set in Manchester, my home city.
After a flirty online relationship, Grant meets Jessica in Manchester.
He works in TV and he shows Jessica around the set where he’s filming. Their relationship quickly escalates and they have sex…on one of the sets! As things develop, so does their love play. In public places! And a little spanking never really hurt anyone.
Will Jessica be able to say goodbye to Grant when his work is done?
Food is an essential part of any celebration for me, so here’s an excerpt that concentrates on dinner. Well, what happens when you go out for a meal with a sexy, dominant American anyway…
“Wow, this is amazing,” Grant remarks.
“Isn’t it?” Uncle Adrian leads us to the far end of the table where two places are set.
“Here are your menus, kids. Susie, your waitress, will be down in a few minutes to get your drinks. Be sure to come and say bye before you go.”
“Will do, thanks.”
I wave as my uncle sashays out and finally leaves us in peace.
“Whoa, this place is awesome.”
“I know, right?” I beam. “I know how to wine and dine in style.”
“Oh yes, you do.” He wanders around the room, pulling open and shutting the little doors. “Did you put your panties back on?”
Okay, that’s a fairly interesting and random change of subject.
“Yeees,” I say deliberately slowly, trying to figure out the answer before I ask the question. “Why?”
“Because I want you to take them off and give them to me.”
Of course, I should have known. Lots more questions and excuses flit through my mind.
“Now!” he snaps. I jump to obey quickly before the waitress turns up. Putting down my handbag, I quickly shove my hands under my skirt and yank down my knickers. There’s no finesse and I nearly fall over balancing on one foot to pick them up, but finally I have them in my grasp and that is when the door opens. I shove the knickers behind my back and smile at the short, mousey waitress who enters.
“Oh, you’re still looking about. Do you want me to come back for your drinks orders?”
“It’s fine. Can we have a bottle of the house red?” Grant says. It’s presumptuous of him, but he knows my tipple when I do drink is red wine.
“Sure, I’ll bring it right down.”
The waitress disappears and Grant laughs. “That was close. Pass me your panties.”
“Yes, Sir.” I shoot out my hand and he takes the black cotton knickers from my hand and tucks them into one of the safety deposit boxes on the wall.
“They can stay there ‘til the end of the meal. We better decide what we’re going to have.” He pulls back the chair closest to me and I tuck my skirt under me and sit down. He takes a seat opposite. “I want to have easy access to your cunt.”
My cheeks flush and my whole body clenches with desire. I pick up the menu and stick my head in it to hide my rising embarrassment.
Grant chuckles. “You’re so sexy when you’re flustered.”
“Oh, good, as it’s my virtually permanent state when I’m around you.” I smile and shake my head.
“I like keeping you off guard, it’s more fun that way.”
Just then the waitress walks in with a tray with our bottle and two glasses. She sets them on the table and pours a little amount of the wine for us to taste. We nod in unison and she pours a larger amount into each glass.
“Have you decided what you’re having?” she asks.
I had decided before we even got to the restaurant. “Can I have the beef burger with polenta fries, please?”
She nods and taps the order into the handheld.
“And I’ll have the steak, rare, please.”
When the room is empty again I take a gentle sip of the red wine.
“Put your hand under your skirt.”
I sputter and hold the glass close to my lips to catch the spray. “Why?” I ask without thinking.
“Don’t question me, just do it.”
“Yes, Sir.” I slowly put my glass down, trying hard not to spill any wine, and put my hand under the table. I could just pretend to do it, he’d never know. Then I look over the table at him and I realise he’d definitely know. He’d see it all over my face.
“Okay,” I slide my hand beneath my skirt and rest it on my thigh.
“Now cup your cunt in your hand.”
“Yes, Sir,” I gasp. “Done it.”
“Good girl. Are you wet?”
“Yes,” I gulp, “very.”
I squeak. It was supposed to be a refusal, but words wouldn’t form. Anyone could walk in any minute, the waitress, or worse, my bloody uncle.
“Go on, you can do it. Do it for me.”
“For you, Sir.” I force myself to look over the table. He’s staring right at me. “I’ll do it.”
Gulping, I push my pointer finger inside myself.
“Describe what you’re doing, what you’re feeling.”
“I’ve got a finger inside me; I’m so wet it slipped in easily. My pussy is clamping around it and it feels really good.”
“Fuck yourself with it.”
My face and neck flush. I close my eyes and seesaw my finger in and out. I wonder if I’m so wet he can hear it.
I whimper at his cruelty.
“Withdraw your finger carefully and move it above the table.”
I follow his instruction and hover my hand just over my fork.
“Now offer the finger to me over the table.”
My eyes open and widen, but I know not to question him so I reach out, careful not to catch my glass or the wine bottle, and he steadies my hand in his.
“Very good girl,” he whispers, making sure I’m looking straight at him as he opens his lips, leans in and sucks my finger into his mouth.
“Oh my God,” I exclaim, closing my eyes tight as desire shoots through from his lips to flood my whole body. My eyes flutter open again to watch him dipping back and forth on my digit, his tongue whipping around to suck up all my juices.
He lets my finger go and I try really hard not to just let it flop down onto the table. I withdraw carefully, trying not to let the trembling show.
“You taste delicious,” he grins.
“Thank you, Sir.” If I was flustered before, I don’t know what I am now. Somewhere close to erotically mortified. I’m relieved when our waitress walks in a moment later with our orders. I’m certainly thankful she didn’t arrive any earlier.
This part of the novella is set in Jamie’s Italian in Manchester. I go there quite often, here are some photos including a selfie of me stood outside the vault I’m writing about in this scene!
Happy birthday Tirgearr!