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New Release!
Callie is all he desires—the tonic for his dominance. But to fulfill their dreams, she must succumb to his passions.
Amateur clarinetist Callie turns up for an orchestra rehearsal following a six-week absence to find a new conductor in residence—Stefan, a charismatic man with ambitions of being a composer. After he gives her a lift home, he invites her to his house for a practice session. What begins as a music lesson ends with a passionate display of dominance by Stefan.
As their sexual affair blossoms, Callie is increasingly drawn to find out more about her aspiring composer and why he is a potent lover in the bedroom. When she turns up unexpectedly at his house, she is shocked to find him in the company of a naked woman. Horrified to think that he might have betrayed her, she calls an end to their relationship, but persistent Stefan begs for a second chance.
Encouraged by her boss to resolve her feelings toward Stefan, Callie seeks out a friend of his, hoping to understand what drives him to dominate, but the given explanation creates more unresolved issues for Callie. Determined to seek out the truth, she plans to confront Stefan. But by then, he has gone abroad. Callie must make a decision—cash in her savings and follow Stefan, or banish him from her life. If she does the latter, she will never understand the nature of the intense emotions he has awakened within her. Does she dare to love him?
Buy Links:
You can order on Amazon, Kobo, Barnes and Noble, AllRomance or at Totally Bound.
First Chapter here.
Goodreads Review:
I LOVED reading about the musical aspect in this. The author did a wonderful job incorporating and bridging the musical and sexual tension between the two. In fact, I felt as though those were some of the best scenes. Speaking of scenes, yep, they’re in there and plentiful. Stefan definitely knows what he’s doing and Callie is just along for the ride…and loving it.
All in all, I would say that this was an enjoyable read and I recommend it to those looking to boost their libido.
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Perfect Notes - EEE - Extended Explict Excerpt!
“Come, Mausi, I think you need to unwind a little.” He rolled onto his side and patted the bed.
A broad smile formed on his face. I hated to smash it.
“Er… Stefan. I…” My jaw still refused to work properly and the words wouldn’t form. I wanted to fling my clothes off and envelop that splendid cock. Instead, my dry tongue wandered about my mouth.
“You need a drink?”
“No. What I need is…a condom,” I whispered the words.
“Ah.” He tumbled onto his back and stroked his cock. “Come here.”
I crept forward. Was he going to pounce on me? I perched on the edge of the bed, squishing my knees together. The closer I got to him, the worse the fluttering in my belly. I needed a fan to cool me down.
He sat up, his face within a few inches of mine. “Do you trust me?”
“I think so… Yes, of course.” What a stupid question. He was naked in my bed and I wasn’t screaming out of the window for the police. It had to mean I trusted him.
“Then let me fuck you…”
My mouth opened wide, and he shot his finger out, covering my lips and thwarting my negative response.
“I won’t come in you.”
Now, that would be something I would never have trusted Micah to do. He’d fire off without warning, sometimes after the first plunge of his cock, then he’d mumble an apology before slumping on top of me.
“I don’t know—”
He lunged and stoppered my mouth with an indulgent kiss. He pinched the back of my neck, drawing me into his bare arms. I grappled briefly, but I couldn’t resist the lure of his warm mouth and ardent desire. He hauled me onto him as he lay back. His erection sandwiched between us as our lips melted, fusing together.
My hair tangled in his frantic hands and he combed his fingers through it, tugging and stinging my scalp. I broke off, lifted my head, and his entwined hands traveled with me. I stared down into his stunning face. The goatee had grown into a fuller, darker one with a little point below the chin. It narrowed his face, making him appear dignified and older.
I brushed my finger along his jawline. “Don’t let it get any longer.”
“Okay.” He smiled. “You like it?”
“It suits you. It tickles a little.” I moved up his face and traced his bushy eyebrows, which had slightly thicker hair fibers and were refined at the edges. “Do you trim these?”
He chuckled. “No. They’re self-limiting.” He wiggled them up and down, making his eyes bigger as he did it.
I giggled. Between us, his cock, still fully erect, jerked and nudged my belly.
“Trust me.”
He slid his hand down my back, under the waistband of my loosely tied linen slacks and down into my panties. With his finger and thumb, he pinched a generous piece of my fleshy buttock. I winced a fraction, and at the same time, my excited clit ratcheted up a notch. There was no way I could switch it off. I needed to come. I shut my eyes. The chances… Slim… I’m regular. If he said he wouldn’t—maybe he had the control Micah lacked. Tomorrow, I would make an appointment at the family planning clinic.
Then it hit me what I had to do. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? “I’ve a better idea.”
I lowered myself, shuffled down between his legs. The tip of my tongue touched the smooth sheath of his cock and I licked his tiny slit. He juddered and let out a groan.
“Oh, yes,” he muttered.
I looked up straight into his wide-awake eyes. The man had desperate written all over him. I’d hit his weak spot. His sensitive cock rested against my lower lip. The taste of him lingered on my tongue. A good taste—clean, salty, tempting.
“Strip.”
I loved the way he commanded me. Just like his conducting voice, but sexier. I peeled away my top, stretching my arms up to the ceiling. Next, I unclasped my bra, twirled it around before tossing it over my shoulder.
“Teaser,” he growled.
“More?” I paraded my breasts, sashaying them gently, and the nipples stood erect.
“Damn right.” He grabbed my zipper.
I slapped his hand away. “Patience.”
I heaved my body off him and wriggled out of my slacks and panties, letting them drift down my legs, then kicked them off.
“Get back here.” The same insistent voice.
My pussy clenched.
I knelt between his legs, which he spread open for me, and his erection twitched.
I would test him. Make him wait—prove to me he could control this manly beast. I ringed my hands around his shaft. Its stiff girth embodied strength and power. The desire to have him buried in me flourished and I kept it at bay, breathing from my diaphragm, just as he had taught me. He spoke of self-control—it extended to me too. The blood gushed through his penis, swelling it further, and the skin moved over the rigid scaffold, the rippling, vibrant energy transmitting across the gap between us and into my lower belly. Inspired, I rocked my hips back and forth, brandishing my breasts right in front of his eyes. I drooled, salivating in anticipation.
He shot a hand out, but I tossed my head backward, out of reach. I shook my head. “Patience,” I reiterated, masturbating his cock.
Another deep growl. In frustration, he clenched his fingers into white-knuckled bunches.
“You don’t like this, do you?” I held his cock tighter, massaging its shaft with my thumbs.
He gasped loudly. He smashed his fists down on the mattress.
“Damn it, Mausi.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Suck me.”
“Now who’s conducting? Heh, shall I do this as a slow movement, largo? Or andante, a sedate walking pace.”
“Allegro.” He lifted his hips off the bed.
“Fast. I thought you were going to show me your wonderful sense of control.” I pinched the foreskin, stretching it upward.
He panted. “Let me come in your mouth. Please,” he moaned.
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Sneak Peek
I've just submitted a spanking romance novel to a publisher, all being well it will be edited soon! Here is an excerpt from the first chapter, as it appears now. So please forgive any minor errors - those delightful editors will sort all those out. The working title? The Duchess and the Huntsman
Sophia, a young widow, is supposed to be in mourning following the death of her husband, the Duke. Creeping down from her room, she tries to find a vantage point to watch a ball her grandmother is hosting. Instead, she finds a young man taking refuge from the heat and noise and is caught red-handed attempting to kiss him!
Sophia dismissed her late, but unremarkable husband from her mind, and returned to the current problem—her disgruntled grandmother. Maria had never threatened her before with a spanking. It had come as a shock to hear the word spring out of her mouth, not once, but twice! Thankfully, the spanking had not materialised. She cringed at the image of Uncle Pierre’s hands, which were covered in warts.
However, young Fitzwilliam’s hands had been a different matter. What would have happened if a younger man had taken her over his knee and spanked her bottom?
Sophia squirmed on her bed, trying hard not to let her mind wander down paths it should not take.
It was no good. It had happened too easily—the excitement of almost being touched by a man had set off a wave of delightful sensations about her body and they originated from her sex. She fidgeted, crossing and uncrossing her ankles, frustrated by her meandering thoughts. What if Fitzwilliam had been a little older, even broader across the chest, stouter in his arms and less unsure of himself. What if he had followed her upstairs, informed her with a stern voice that her grandmother had been correct in her admonishment—she had tricked him.
Sophia slid her hand over her breasts, feeling the rigidity of her nipples, down she roved, dipping into her cinched waist until she came to the apex of her thighs. Keep going, she urged. Bending her knees, she reached down and found the hem of her skirts, all of them, including the petticoats, and dragged them up over her thighs and above her waist. She undid the cord about her waist and wriggled her hips. With a sudden burst of feverish abandonment, she drew her drawers down, uncovering her mound.
She slipped three fingers between her folds. So wet already and she grinned, pleased with her accomplishment. A pity no man was there to witness her eagerness. She glided her fingers along her slit and parted her labia. Back and forth, she rocked her hand, delving between those swollen lips and eventually she slid two fingers inside her soaked pussy.
“Oh, my,” she moaned.
No, not Fitzwilliam, not any longer he was not worthy of this! She wanted somebody older, demanding and firm of hand. This new imagining took shape and she pictured the scene. This time when commanded to the bedroom she would be naked, her clothes discarded and she would meekly face her disciplinarian. She’d plead with him, and he would shake his head and point at his lap. Over he would toss her, forcing her head down and gripping her tight about the waist with his muscular forearm.
She dismissed the idea of pain, dwelling instead on the sound of his smacks raining down on her poor writhing bottom, which would bounce up and down in time to his spanks and all the while, he uttered stern words of disapproval.
Sophia rubbed her clit harder and unable to contain her vivid daydream, she rolled onto her stomach, hitched down her drawers to unveil her bottom to the cool air and continued to grind her clitoris onto the heel of her palm, whilst her other hand squeezed a generous arse cheek, pretending it was sore and red hot.
“Oh, sir, please no more,” she moaned.
Her imagery assailant, a man whose body she’d rapidly undressed—allowing her to feel his stiffened cock under her hips—had grown in stature to the size of a brawny work man.
What kind of man would take a woman over his knee and spank her?
Did it matter? Nobody ever would. She humped up and down, attempting to slap her bottom and when she managed to elicit a stinging sensation, her clitoris burst alive and she came abruptly and with a strength that surprised her.
She pressed her mouth into her pillow and smothered a cry. On the ridiculous orgasm blossomed, until exhausted and hot, she melted into the bed. With some effort she extracted her drenched fingers and laid them on the pillow, watching her juices trickle over her knuckles. What an amazing experience, she concluded. It wasn’t the first time she sought to pleasure herself, but it had been the most successful and if she felt a pang of shame, she quickly dismissed the emotion, as she always did, ensuring it remained her guilty pleasure to endure.
She’d have to do it again and perhaps, it would help pass the time away as she spent the last six weeks of her mourning at Attingham House.
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