Thursday, 16 October 2014
Dungeon Love (MFM) "The Dom's Dungeon" book 1
Juliana Grenville longs to be Dom Beckett Parker’s sub, but he seems to hate her. Jason O’Connor is kind and sweet and treats her beautifully but he isn’t a Dom. It seems wrong to date Jason if she wants to be in the dungeon with Dom Beckett.
Juliana is the receptionist at The Dom’s Dungeon BDSM Club. It’s the best job she’s ever had, but it isn’t helping her to become a sub when the man she desperately wants to be her Dom ignores her or glares at her. Yet she can feel the chemistry between them. There’s plenty of chemistry between her and Jason as well. He’s every woman’s dream of a thoughtful and caring man.
Finally she decides to pretend she’s a Domme and perform a stage show at the club with Dom Beckett. Perhaps that’ll make him pay attention to her.
Beckett spent some time rehearsing in his dungeon after his final client left. He needed to get ready for the show, but he had enough time to grab some food and a coffee before then. What he didn’t have was time to get changed into street clothes and then change back again. Well, too bad. He’d take the food back to the staff break room instead of eating it in the Stage Lounge, and if people stared at him ordering a meal at the bar, it was too bad.
As he got to the doorway into the Stage Lounge, he saw Juliana, still in her uniform, talking to Jason. I didn’t realize they knew each other. But then, since she’s the club’s receptionist, likely she knows everyone.
He was just about to shrug it off when Jason took Juliana into his arms and kissed her. It was a proper kiss. Beckett could tell that even at this distance. When she turned away from him, Jason’s gaze followed her across the room. If Beckett wasn’t mistaken, Juliana’s knees were a little wobbly as she started walking. That must have been a hell of a good kiss. He was certain she’d been kissed often enough to be impervious to an average kiss.
I should be the one kissing her. She’s mine. And she won’t be a fucking Domme either. She’ll submit to me.
Except how could that be? Unless she was a switch. But why would she put on a show as a Domme if she was a switch? Fucking hell. Jason was his friend as well. Or, at least, they were on the way to being friends. The evening they’d spent together had been a great time, and he’d planned to invite Jason out for a meal again someday. But it looked like Jason had another interest. A redheaded interest.
Well fuck. She’s mine dammit. Beckett frowned. He might just change up the end of their stage show tonight and show her who was really in control.
Forgetting all about food, Beckett turned on his heel and marched back down the stairs to Dungeon One again. It was time to plan a few changes to the ending of their scene—an ending that put the redheaded Domme in his arms where she belonged. And under his control as well.
* * * *
The beginning of their stage show went exactly as planned and exactly as it had the previous day. They arrived from different areas of the Stage Lounge, each demonstrated their skills to the audience, and then they battled each other for the audience’s admiration.
Juliana acted exactly as they’d planned and he did the same, the choreography giving him plenty of opportunity to demonstrate his skills with the whip. Every now and then the crowd broke into spontaneous gasps and clapping, which showed they were paying close attention to the display.
But as he and Juliana moved toward the conclusion, Beckett sensed an extra tension in Juliana. She was always very focused, very intent on her steps and her actions. To the audience it might seem as though she teased and paced around him gracefully and nonchalantly. But up here on the stage with her, he could tell that every step she made, every hand and head movement, was precisely choreographed.
She might be smiling prettily, but the tension showed in her eyes, and he was the only person close enough to know. Had she guessed he planned to alter the ending of their scenario? Was that what had her worrying? Was he giving off vibes that she could pick up warning her he was going to depart from the script?
As the assistants stepped back and displayed the sheet showing their neat parallel lines on it, Juliana cracked her whip out and wrapped it neatly around his waist. As if she’d guessed he’d never agree to be reeled in, she moved closer to him winding the whip around his waist as she did, and openly flirting with him.
The audience had been clapping already, but now they clapped harder.
Damn the fucking woman. This was going to make it ten times harder for him to add the new ending he’d planned.
Instead of shaking hands, as per the script, she lifted her lips to kiss him.
Aha. That was her undoing. This was how he’d rearranged the ending. He lifted her up, but instead of kissing her, he threw her over his shoulder in a modified fireman’s carry, holding her knees tightly in one hand and letting her body hang down his back. Then he left the stage to a lot of clapping, foot stomping, and cheering.
He put her down once they reached the private hallway that led to the staff change rooms and break room.
“You stupid moron. You’ve spoiled everything.” Juliana slid off his shoulder and rammed her knee into his balls before running into the female change room.
No one had ever done that to him before. The pain was intense, but the shock was almost as bad. Beckett grabbed his balls, cupping them gently, and only just managed not to drop to his knees in agony.
“I don’t think she appreciated that.”
Beckett looked up, still hissing from pain, to see Jason standing in the hall watching him.
Friday, 3 October 2014
Use Me (MFM) Dungeon Masters book 5
Violet Cambrisi has finally achieved her dream of owning a farm where she can have horses. Now all she needs is the cowboy caring for them, Raphael Allsop, and the builder renovating her house, Darcy Nelson, to share her farmhouse and her life with her.
Darcy is a werewolf and a Dom and considers her to be too pushy. He doesn’t want her staying in the old house until it’s repaired. And that’s before the hot water unit explodes and brings down the ceiling. Raff used to have money and a high-powered job in New York and walked away from all that. Now he has nothing and is nobody, not a fit person to hang around such a beautiful woman.
But Violet wants them both and they both want her. Life is incredibly complicated and they all have different problems to overcome. Once they enter the dungeon together, their bodies explode far more dramatically than the hot water unit did.
Despite having promised to stay out in the barn, Violet couldn’t resist sneaking into the house—her house now—and peeking into the rooms. No matter what that big bossy builder said about rotting floorboards and overstressed beams, the realtor had walked her though all the rooms when she’d first considered buying the farm. Well, it was her grandfather who’d bought it really, but she was the one who’d be living here.
Her grandfather was extremely wealthy and his only child, her father, had been killed in Afghanistan by an IED. He wasn’t even a soldier, just a mad-keen photographer who’d wanted to take pictures out in the countryside. Violet couldn’t remember him. She’d only been eighteen months old at the time.
Her mother hadn’t been able to cope with the death of the man she loved, turning first to alcohol, and then to social drugs, and finally to illegal hard drugs. Grandpop had admitted her to a rehabilitation program but it was too late. She’d overdosed and was dead before Violet’s fourth birthday.
Fortunately Grandpop had been one of five children and Violet had been reared in the midst of a plethora of second and third cousins, most of whom seemed to have large families of their own.
Violet tilted her head to the side. She could hear water dripping. That was weird. The workmen weren’t here yet and she hadn’t noticed it last night. She walked into the kitchen and looked at the sink, but the faucets there were turned off properly. Next she stepped into the laundry room but once again the faucets weren’t responsible for the noise. Which seemed a little louder now.
Could the noise be coming from upstairs? Violet tipped her head up to look at the ceiling. She’d kept her word and not been up there at all, but maybe now was the time to go looking. She walked out of the laundry, down the hallway, past the little room she’d planned to stay in, and into the great room. This was the heart of the house, a gigantic space, part dining room, part living room, and part sunroom. Already Violet could picture herself here wrapped in a blanket in front of the huge open fire in winter, or sitting in a rocking chair by the window in summer.
The noise was definitely louder. She hurried now over to the staircase only to stop in surprise. Water was trickling down it, forming a puddle at the base of the lowest step.
“Hot damn. Some idiot must have left water running all night.”
Violet began to run up the stairs, glad the water was only a trickle, and that the workmen would be here soon to clean up the mess.
Just as she reached the top, there was a booming crack, as if a thunderstorm was directly over her head, and Violet was drenched in water. The ceiling dropped down in pieces all around her and water, harder than any rainstorm, pelted over her, soaking her to the skin in a heartbeat. Violet found herself sitting on her ass, the force of the water racing her down the stairs and dumping her at the bottom in the midst of a growing flood.
She picked herself up and staggered through the swimming pool that had been her living room ten seconds ago to open the front door and let the water out. Then she gripped the handrail of the stairs and pushed her way against the tide to find out what faucet needed turning off. Once again, she’d just reached the top when a loud voice said, “Are you crazy, woman? What the fuck are you doing?”
She lost her grip on the handrail in her surprise, and once again splashed down to land on her ass and be swept down the stairs. The water wasn’t pouring out as fast now, and it was just like riding a waterslide at the fun park. She landed at the bottom of the stairs, laughing hard. “Oh, my god, what a ride.”
Two brawny arms hauled her to her feet and held her tight. “Are you injured?”
She looked up into the tanned face and brown eyes of the bossy builder. “I’m fine. That was the most amazing waterslide I’ve ever ridden in my life. There seems to be a problem upstairs.”
“No kidding. What the fuck were you doing? I told you to stay out of the house.”
Violet pulled away from him. “I only came in because I heard a faucet dripping. I didn’t make it upstairs to turn it off before the ceiling fell in.”
“The ceiling fell in?”
“Are you okay?”
Violet turned to look at the doorway. The second voice was her yummy cowboy. He was ankle deep in water but staring at her. Suddenly Violet realized she was soaking wet and fast getting really cold.