Sunday snippet from my upcoming release THE ARRANGEMENT due for release on 27th August.  I talk a little more about the book in the audio snippet..

“So what’s up?” We don’t normally catch up during the day, but living with him is starting to blur a number of boundaries.

“Nothing really.” He shrugs.

“You sure?”

“No. I am here for nefarious reasons,” he deadpans. “I was in the neighborhood and thought we could do a quick lunch.” He raises a bag of goodies from the David Jones Food Hall.

“Ooh, yum,” I smile.

Is there a girl in the world who can resist an impromptu picnic?

“You know, buried deep down in you somewhere is a romantic trying to get out.”

He snorts.

I lean forward. ”But just so you know, I’m a sure thing.”

“I like that about you.”

He smiles as he crooks his finger and I go on all fours and lean towards him. The kiss is surprisingly tender and sweet.

“Mr. Mason, are you going all soft on me?” I breathe the words on his lips as I stare into his eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that complaint.”

“Ooh cocky …”

“There you go again.” His eyes crinkle. “Why don’t you get your head out of my pants and tell me about the job?”

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Sunday snippet from my upcoming release THE ARRANGEMENT due for release on 27th August.  I read a slightly longer snippet from the scene in the audio so if you enjoy the post  take a listen…

In the back room I wander past a male pony sub. In full dress, he is wearing tight leather shorts and a horsetail that can only be held in place with a butt plug. The bit gag in his mouth looks equally uncomfortable, but the masterpiece is the knee-high black leather platform boots fashioned into a hoof at the toe. Beautiful and diabolical. Without a heel, the platform-style pony boots force him to stay on the balls on his feet. Even from my position I can see the strain of being on his toes, his calf muscles are pulled into tight hard balls. The pony is covered in a fine sheen of sweat as he balances not only his own weight, but his mistress on his back.

Legs looped through his bent arms and thighs clutching his sides, she sits high on his back, head and shoulders taller than everyone. Imperiously passing through the crowd, a naked Lady Godiva wearing only thigh-high riding boots, shiny black leather gloves and a Victorian riding-hat on top of her dark curls. Immaculate red lips curled in a smile as she wields her crop. The crack of leather on skin guiding her pony along.

Fascinated I follow until the mistress sinks her hand into his hair, grabs a fistful and harshly pulls her pony to a stop. She dismounts and then nudges him backwards with her crop, maneuvering him until he bumps up against an empty couch.

I stand against one of the walls, my rib cage straining in my corset as if I’m holding my breath while his chest heaves. Godiva stares into his eyes for the longest time. Her hands stroke down his arm, his flank and muscled abdomen. Muscles and skin twitch under her gloved fingers. He is covered in welts from her crop and I assume they’ve been playing this game for quite some time.

Seeing them face-to-face like this, I appreciate how tall he is. Well over six foot in those boots. Muscled like a laborer. She looks so small. And yet all the power is hers.

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Sunday snippet from my upcoming release THE ARRANGEMENT due for release on 27th August.  I talk a little more about the book and this scene in the audio snippet which is a longer snippet than what is in the post because I loved reading more…

When Vincent slides between the sheets, I turn to watch him. Pale moonlight glows into the room, making intimate shadows and highlighting his features.

He turns to face me.

I am disappointed he doesn’t do more. Touch me, mount me, fuck me. Right now, these things would still my soul.

“Penny for your thoughts, beautiful girl.” He reaches out and cups my face. He has been trying to debrief the breathplay with me all day.

I don’t want to talk. I want to lose myself; be a part of him. Reclaim our intimacy. I want him over me, and in me.

“If I don’t come soon I just might die,” I whisper. My yearning is lost in translation.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he says, just as softly. His thumb strokes the apple of my cheek.

His tenderness hurts, because it is not his love.

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Sunday snippet from my upcoming release THE ARRANGEMENT due for release on 27th August.  I talk a little more about the book in the audio snippet..

I float in the calm of the water while Vincent swims laps. Let myself sink to the bottom for as long as I can, watching his body move over me. I’m lulled by the muffled whoosh as he kicks, the sound rhythmic, like a watery heartbeat. He powers through his laps and at one time I venture close enough to physically feel the water push out of his way.

I begin to weave around him, swimming as close as I dare, letting the water connect us until Vincent reaches out and grabs me. He pulls me against him and captures my mouth. I wrap my legs around his waist, arms around his neck, returning his passion. I am as bottomless as the sea in my desire for him. His kiss is brutal, punishing. And not enough. His lips and hands scorch me even though we are wet.

He laps at my mouth, stoking the fire of lust until I am burning up for him. Trembling, I am still clinging to him when he lifts me from the water and carries me up the steps, and out of the pool. The water rushes off our bodies, and then we are just heat.

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Sunday snippet from my upcoming release THE ARRANGEMENT due for release on 27th August.  I talk a little more about the book in the audio snippet..

“Am I really a masochist?” I whisper a question I thought I’d never ask for an answer I’m not sure I want to know.

“I hope so…you show a lot of promise.”

I pull back a little and laugh off the idea. Take a sip of my Caprioska. “You make it sound like a good thing.”

“Nellie, I’m a sadist. It is a good thing.”

“I’m a feminist.”

He laughs, the sound touching things inside me and lower down.

“Fine. Be a feminist masochist then.” Genuine amusement glints in his eyes.

God help me, wanting to amuse and please this man could get addictive.

Vincent sobers and leans forward, looks me straight in the eye. “How you fuck doesn’t change who you are.”