by Nia Farrell
She bucks and writhes. Forgets to breathe. Shatters into a million pieces as her floodgates open. A baptism of juices bathes my hand and escapes my mouth, running down to consecrate our altar of pleasure.
I curl my fingers. She comes again, crying my name.
It is the first time I have heard it from her lips, made music by that honeyed voice of hers.
“Come for me again, Elizabeth.” A few more strokes, and she is there, breath hitching, body seizing, heels digging, walls spasming as she milks the two fingers I have managed to work inside of her.
Instinct makes me unbutton my breeches and take out my cock. I am a starving man at a banquet, so hungry for her. So very hungry. I stroke my length. She licks her lips.
Choices. So many choices. Unlike yesterday, today I came prepared.
“Tell me what you want, darling girl.”
“You,” she whispers in that throaty voice of hers.
“And where would you like me, hmm? In your mouth? In your arse?”
She spreads her legs, revealing pink, glistening folds, filling the air with the musk of her arousal. “Here. Please, Fitzwilliam. I am so empty, it hurts.”
“I should spank you,” I growl at her, fisting myself harder yet. Jesus God, she will be the death of me. “Tempting me beyond what I can bear. If we do this, you are mine. I will speak to your father but regardless of what he says, with or without his approval (or your mother’s), I am keeping you. I shall marry you, take you to Pemberley, and install you in the room next to mine. I shall visit you when I please, as often as I please. I shall take you to my secret room, devoted to pleasure, where you will strip and kneel and call me Master.”
She wriggles, restless, yearning, wanting my cock, ready to yield her maidenhead. Unlike Wickham, I have never had a virgin, let alone a woman that I intended to keep.
Mine. She is mine…or soon will be.
I tease her with the tip of my erection, dragging it through her folds, moistening it with her juices. “I shall bind you,” I growl, imagining how beautiful she will look adorned in rope. “Blindfold you. Spank and flog and fuck you.”
“Fuck me,” she begs, her tongue tripping on the coarseness of the words.
Hearing such dirty talk from my pet, my darling girl, makes me perilously close to losing control. I squeeze my shaft and spank her clit with it. She jerks, gasping at the sensation.
“Please,” she begs. Her voice is strained. She sounds as if she is on the verge of tears.
I pull out the vial of oil from my vest, dash some on my hand, and polish my length until it gleams like burnished wood. Another bit goes between pink, swollen lips whilst she mewls at the sensation. She wants me. She waits for me, open and ready.
I notch the tip of my erection in her secrets, flex my hips, and delve inside, testing the waters. Just the crown. No more than that. She thrusts her pelvis at me, trying to impale herself on my length.
I spank her arse and flex again, deep enough to meet resistance. “Hold tight,” I say, then drive into her with controlled force, decimating her hymen. She is virgin no more.
She is mine. Mine!
Tears leak from her eyes as she adjusts to my possession. I kiss and lick them from her face. Trailing kisses down her cheek, her neck, her chest, I bury my face between her breasts and inhale the soft perfume of her skin.
“Oh, God,” she breathes.
I cannot help myself. “I think Master will do.”
I manage to shock her. She coughs out a startled laugh.
Smiling softly back at her, I gather myself and start to move in her exquisitely snug passage made slick with oil and virgin’s blood. Out. In. Out. In. Each stroke goes deeper, reaching further, until my length taps the door of her womb.
She gasps from the pleasure/pain of it.
Jesus God.
Out. In. Countless times.
Harder. Faster. Impossibly deeper.
I reach beneath her and pull at her hips, lifting her up, changing the angle of penetration. My size is more than some experienced women can handle, yet eventually we fit. It is as if she were made for me.
I look down where we are joined. My gaze drifts up her body to her bouncing apple breasts. “Squeeze your nipples,” I order. “Pinch and pull and twist them for me. I want to see your face when you climax. Once more, darling girl.”
She is shy at first, but a quick learner who rapidly finds what brings the most pleasure. A strange yet familiar tension takes hold of her. Breath hisses from between her teeth, cheeks sloughing in and out in time with my thrusts. I pick up the pace until I am pounding into her, grinding against her clitoris, hitting the spot that makes her beg.
“Again!”
Her body stiffens. A strangled, guttural cry and she crests, waves bathing my length as her climax rolls around me, walls rippling in waves.
I drive in deep and find my own release, emptying myself inside her, shuddering to a finish that leaves us both breathless, sated, and in need of a nap. Making use of the toweling that I brought today, I tuck a small folded pad between her legs to catch the worst of it, gather her into my arms, and hold her until we both drift away.
Less than an hour later, I have cleaned us both and restored the outer appearance of our clothing. Playing ladies’ maid, I use my comb to fix her hair before covering it with her bonnet. She reaches for her ties, but I bat her hands away, executing a bow to one side, as is my sister’s preference.
“There,” I say, kissing the tip of her nose. “Perfect. Can you walk?”
She worries her lip, looking doubtful.
“Should I carry you?” It will not be easy, but then I did not go easy on her.
That stubborn chin of hers comes up, ready to meet the challenge. That’s my girl.
“No!” It is a mock affront but underneath lies a grain of truth. She can walk, but she is tender, newly deflowered as she is. I did what I could to make today easier on us—coming prepared, choosing a location closer to Longbourn, waiting until our return, drawing close to home before I initiated our liaison.
She puts her gloved hand upon my sleeve, looking every inch the proper lady when underneath is an awakened sexuality that is deliciously wanton and naturally submissive. Madonna and whore, a common enough dream that seems to have become my reality.
“November tenth,” I tell her as soon as Longbourn comes into view. “We should marry November tenth.” Written 10/11/12, it has a certain cerebral appeal. “A double wedding with Bingley and your sister.”
“But…but…”
I quell her with a single glance. “We cannot wait until Georgiana’s April wedding, not when you may be with child. An eight-month birth is easily overlooked. We have five weeks to prepare. I made your sister’s marriage happen in half that time.”
In her fine, dark, expressive eyes, doubt gives way to burgeoning excitement.
My lips curve in a knowing smile. “Well, Miss Bennett, what say you?”
Lowering her gaze, she bows her head, kisses my hand, and speaks the words I thrill to hear.
“Yes, Master.”
Epilogue
Mrs.Darcy
It is Christmas Eve at Pemberley, my first here as wife and mistress of my husband’s ancestral home.
The Gardiners arrived on the twenty-second: uncle, aunt, four children, and personal servants in tow. Georgiana was already here, as was Colonel Fitzwilliam, to whom she is affianced. With a fixed wedding date set by Lady Catherine, I am certain that they are taking precautions to prevent an unplanned pregnancy.
Judging from the secret looks exchanged between them, celibacy is not their choice of options.
Still, I cast no stones. I tell no tales. What others do consensually beneath our roof is their business, not mine—and vice versa. No one needs to know what happens in our adjoining chambers, or what takes place in Room 366.
Ah. Yes….
My backside is tender from last night’s session. The Master and I never made it back to his bedchamber, or min
e. Instead we slept in the room where we had played, deliciously satiated and too tired to move until our bodies demanded that we feed them.
My husband, gentleman that he is, arranged for a tray to be delivered, allowing me the extra rest that I require these days. July will see an eight-month birth (as he predicted), the first of the next generation and hopefully his heir.
If I am this easily worn out at two-and-a-half months along, heaven help me when our princeling (or princess) arrives. Like my mother, I hope to raise our children. Realistically, given my husband’s social status and eventual rise in rank, I know that nannies, tutors, and governesses will share those duties with me. Mr. Darcy has already begun the selection process, with thoughts to secure the best possible candidates well ahead of the birth next summer.
My only regret this holiday season is not spending it with Jane. She has her own household now. The rest of our family accepted her invitation to Netherfield; the Gardiners graciously declined in favour of spending time here. My uncle and husband have become good friends. Introduced by chance, they quickly became acquainted once Wickham was found. Although they may differ in rank, my husband holds no prejudice to prevent him from enjoying my uncle’s company. The table is rarely without fresh-caught fish, expertly prepared by the three French cooks in our employ.
Mr. Darcy and I have known each other little more than a year, but what different people we are from the stiff stranger who snubbed me as not handsome enough to dance with and the girl who sat slighted and shame-faced. At the time, I judged him to be a proud and haughty man. He is proud, but rightly so. He holds himself aloof at times, but haughty? No, he is not haughty. He is, however, decidedly naughty.
I would not wish him any other way.
Author’s Biography
Nia Farrell is the naughty side of a multi-genre author who is published in nonfiction, poetry, music, articles, and children’s books, with one documentary screenplay under her literary belt. She’s an old soul and a period reenactor who’s been into corsets for centuries, although she wears them more to Civil War events these days.
Nia has been involved in the metaphysical community for over twenty-five years. She is a Reiki Master and crystal healer whose work encompasses this and other lifetimes. In her book Something More, BDSM and submission are tools for healing post-rape PTSD, earning a nomination for Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category, in the 2016 Golden Flogger Awards.
Her debut books from The Three Graces series, Something Else, Something Different, and Something More, are kink with a paranormal twist. Soul mates, reincarnation, karmic fallout, shamanism, and psychic abilities come into play. Personal experience and extensive research go into crafting her characters, but it’s her sense of whimsy that has made fictional Posey, Minnesota, the ménage capital of the United States, with a Monty-Python-inspired diner that’s central to the plotlines.
Nia was fortunate enough to meet her soulmate early on. She married her high school sweetheart, raised two children, and began writing at her husband’s suggestion. She has been published in erotic romance since 2015.
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THE THREE GRACES TRILOGY
by Nia Farrell
Now in paperback! Contains Something Else, Something Different, and Something More. 230 pages.
Amazon buy link http://mybook.to/TGr or
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1530858194
Three women. Six men. Things are about to get interesting….
Welcome to fictional Posey, Minnesota, home of three young women whose names all mean “grace.” Grace Murphy is the local psychic medium who’s been saving herself for the men of her dreams. Anna James is a starving artist who lives for the music she makes. Rae Simmons (aka Rachel Givens) is everyone’s favorite waitress, delivering plate lunch specials with service and a smile. The Three Graces Trilogy contains their stories, originally released as separate e-book novellas.
SOMETHING ELSE
(The Three Graces Book One)
Three soulmates forge a future from the flames of their pasts in an interracial MMF ménage erotic romance. “It’s part paranormal, part BDSM, part love story, but all good.”
Ebook buy link http://mybook.to/TG1 or
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B014FV1TUE
What reviewers are saying about Something Else:
“Imaginative and sexy” “A likeable, strong heroine and two very hot heroes” “I am a strong believer in psychic abilities so for me this book was a HOME RUN! I loved the storyline and the sex—WOW—talk about HOT!!!” "Jam-packed with just about everything a reader can imagine (and fantasize about)!...Nico is...hotter than hot! ...J.T. is a total alpha and literally makes the pages (and your panties) sizzle.”
Author Pandora Spocks: “This is the first book in the Three Graces series and I can’t wait to read the next two. The story is at once mystical and heartbreaking, the characters rich and compelling. You find yourself pulling for Grace, Nico, and J.T. to find peace and happiness. And the sex…it’s MMF ménage at its hottest! Something Else is highly recommended!”
SOMETHING DIFFERENT
(The Three Graces Book Two)
Starving artist Anna James has sworn off men. Rock gods Jackson and Jacob Thomason just promised her the best sex of her life. Does Anna dare submit to the part-Comanche twins who perform as No Mercy? A BDSM MFM rock star erotic romance.
Ebook buy link http://mybook.to/TG2 or
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B015Y9JEHG
What reviewers are saying about Something Different:
“Sexy and sultry” “Fun and hot…This ménage à trois, featuring two sexy rock star brothers and a talented musician, will leave you breathless and wanting for more.”
“Nia Farrell did not disappoint. Although Something Different is a heavier BDSM read than its predecessor, it was well written and flowed well. I cannot wait for more in this series.”
“The story is entertaining, the sex is hot, and Anna is sarcastic and funny and talented!! A woman after my own heart!! She is lucky enough to meet her rock idols and go even further with them, a dream come true!!”
“From the first word, Anna’s smoldering with sexuality and sensuality. Her first exchange with the boys drips with sex. It’s inevitable, and that’s why it works. There aren’t a lot of other books I’ve read with this much sexuality in the way the narrator talks and hoo boy, this is what makes this so good, so readable, and so hard to put down…I’m a fangirl.”
SOMETHING MORE
(The Three Graces Book Three)
Finalist for Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category, 2016 Golden Flogger Awards.
Ebook buy link http://mybook.to/TG3 or
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B016OULX8C
Rachel Givens is supposed to be dead. She has post-rape PTSD and a three-year-old autistic daughte
r, father unknown. When her former lovers—a biker and a porn star—walk into the diner where she works, this single mother learns just how much more she can handle.
What reviewers are saying about Something More:
“The WARNING for this book should be STEAMY HOT & Panty Melting….” “Anyone can write a story that has great sex scenes but give me a story along with the sex and you’ve got yourself a HUGE fan! Rachel Givens and her daughter Hannah stole my heart immediately….Cam and Cord swooped in and not only filled Rachel’s heart with love and forgiveness but they also reached Hannah’s—which is a difficult task in itself. Just an amazing story!”
“Rachel’s story is riveting and raw…you forget she’s a mom raising a little girl while hiding in a small town. This story was so different from the others and I loved it more for that exact reason.…I was blown away by these stories and although they could be read as standalones, I would read them in sequence. Bravo Nia for giving these ladies life and us sexy hot fantasies.”
SOMETHING AMAZING
(The Three Graces Book Four)
Nico’s story—not yet released
SOMETHING AWESOME
(The Three Graces Book Five)
Jackson’s story—not yet released
SOMETHING PRECIOUS
(The Three Graces Book Seven)
Cord’s story—not yet released
SOMETHING SPECIAL
(The Three Graces Book Six)
The sequel to SOMETHING ELSE, released May 5, 2016