Hello all. I’m running a week long competition with a brilliant prize. Each day I will post an excerpt from one of my stories published with House of Erotica and on Thursday there will be four questions to answer. All the answers will be found within the extracts you’ll have read over the previous few days. Just email me your answers and I’ll put you in the draw to win either a copy of The Victoria Blisse Collection or all three books of my Getting Together trilogy, whichever you prefer.
Anyway, I better get on with the excerpts then. Here’s the first.
“Beautiful,” he croons, for what seems to be the millionth time this evening.
“Jamie.” Her voice is cracking with emotion and when he looks up a tear softly hangs at the corner of her eye. He stands up and presses into her curves.
“Its okay, Carrie, you’re so beautiful. I could look at you all day and all night.”
She wraps her arms around him and buries her head into his shoulder.
“Thank you.” She sniffs then pulls away him. “I’m sorry to be so, well, like this. It’s just I have issues.” She giggles depreciatingly. “More issues than the Evening News in fact.”
He grins. “We all have issues.”
She leans forward and of her own volition presses her lips to his.
“Lie on the sofa.”
He lets out a shuddering breath. He wants her. God, how he wants her, but he wants this delicious anticipation to last. She complies, tucking her knees up to her body, throwing an arm across her breasts.
“Not like that.” He strides over and pulls her arm out of the way. He angles her so that an arm lies beneath her breasts, offering them up for him. He then straightens out her legs before bending the top one up, making a triangle of limbs and parting her pussy, revealing it. “I can’t pose like this.” She squirms, as Jamie walks away.
“Oh yes, you can, or would you prefer me to tie you spread eagled on my bed instead?” he snaps and she gasps. “So, what’s it going to be Ms. Beautiful?”
“I’ll stay here.” She nibbles her bottom lip.
“But you want to be tied up, don’t you?”
She flushes then nods her head. Hell yes, she wants to be tied up, she wants to be left completely at his mercy, she wants to beg for it now, right now, but she cannot bring herself to let the words drip from her drying mouth. “Another day.” He grins. “And that is a promise.”
Jamie busies himself setting up a canvas and selecting a pencil to do his outlines with. He dims the light, until the bright moonbeams illuminate the centre of the room, bathing Carrie’s skin and making it gleam like alabaster.
“Jamie,” she all but whispers, “please talk to me, I’m feeling awfully exposed right now.”
“Deliciously exposed.” Jamie looks over and licks his lips, “I’ll talk to you now. I was just getting myself sorted out. You look ethereal bathed in that moonlight.”
“Like a little pixie?”
“Well, I’ve never thought of pixies as overly sexy, but yes, if you want to be a pixie, you can be a pixie.”
“Thank you.” It surprises Carrie how quickly she is adapting to being naked in front of this man. As long as she doesn’t think about her split thighs and the juices pooling between them she feels quite confident.
“You’re going to look amazing all tied up.” Jamie’s pencil scratches across the surface as he sweeps up and down, adding shadow and highlighting the light.
“I didn’t think…” Carrie stutters, her cheeks flushing deep pink once more. Jamie picks up his paint brush and mixes together a blush pink, capturing the high colour on her cheeks.
“I meant every word I said.” He nods, watching her body come to life on his canvas.
“I’m going to tie you down and paint you. Oh I’m going to paint you in so many wicked, sexy positions. Spread eagled on the bed will only be the start of it. The blush on your cheeks makes me imagine how delightful your buttocks will look over my knee, shining bright red from my slaps. The dampness between your thighs makes me want to spread you wide and sketch your cunt. I want to paint your most intimate parts onto my canvas then I want to paint them with my come.”
Carrie moans, her eyes flick close as she imagines him that close between her thighs.
“You want all that don’t you?” Jamie asks, placing soft hints of peach to the white expanse of her moonlit body. She does not answer, the words seem to be stuck in her throat,
“Don’t you, Carrie?” He repeats, her name resonating with inference.
“Yes,” she gasps, “Sir.”
His eyes meet hers and he smiles. She doesn’t know why she said that, how the “Sir” slipped from her imagination onto her lips, but she is thrilled to see the approval in his eyes.
“Oh, Carrie, I’m going to have so much fun discovering you.”