by Liz Gavin
My KinkyValentine
A collection of steamy short-stories & snippets
Liz Gavin
My Kinky Valentine
Vol. 2 – In Spirit
Copyright 2016 by Liz Gavin
Published by Elessar Books
All rights reserved, including the right to publish this book or portions thereof (except for reviews, news media reports, brief quotes with attribution, and purposes of promotion of this book or other novels by Liz Gavin) in any form whatsoever.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and is intended for those over the age of 18 only.
All participants in sexual activities within this book are over the age of 18.
Volume 2 - In Spirit
Table of Contents
Between the Ghost and the Dom
CHAPTER 1 - MARCEL
CHAPTER 2 - CLARA
Her Favorite Ghost
Chapter 1 - Marcel
Chapter 2 - Clara
Halloween at Club Desire
Luck of the Irish
Sneak Peek
Celtic Fire
Sneak Peek
Fallen Angel
Watchers
Chapter 1
Other books by Liz Gavin
Between the Ghost and the Dom
When a big Hollywood star, a gorgeous Dom, and a kinky ghost meet at an exclusive sex club in New Orleans sparks fly and the temperature gets scorching hot. The Alpha males will taunt the reluctant sub and test her limits. But how much pleasure can a person endure? Will she break or ask for more?
Join Clara, Sam and Marcel at the best-kept secret in New Orleans - Club Desire. Here’s where celebrities come to indulge in their darkest fantasies. Watch Clara discover her hard limits as wells as you test your own in this exciting short-story.
*** This 8,100-word short is intended for adults only due to its graphic language plus kinky sex scenes involving an alpha Dom, a wicked ghost, and a naughty redhead, lots of sex toys, Domination, submission, and mild spanking.***
Between the ghost and the Dom
SNIPPET
Liz Gavin
Copyright 2013
Published by Elessar Books
CHAPTER 1 - MARCEL
1864
“Give up woman. It’s no use.”
“I’ll never give up on you. You’re mine.”
“I’m not yours or anybody else’s for that matter. Now get off of my bed.”
Marie-Claudette ignores me - the angry, naked man lying beneath her - and leans down to kiss me again. I’m tied to the bed as she straddles me so all I can do is move my head and try to escape her gaping mouth. No amount of cajoling on her part has made me return her advances or my dick get hard though. We’re not cooperating with her carefully planned seduction. She’s pissed.
For months now she’s been harassing me. I don’t know why she thinks she’s in love with me. I’m used to women throwing themselves at me. With my looks and money, that’s a given. But they know when they’re not wanted. That’s just not the case with Marie-Claudette. And being rude to her or openly defying her is not a good idea. She’s a badass witch, you know. One of the most powerful in New Orleans. So I’ve been doing my best to lay here in the hopes she tires out and forgets this ridiculous infatuation.
My temper is getting the best of me though. I mean after all I AM a Revault, only heir to one of the oldest families in the French Quarter. Who does this crazy bitch think she is? She can’t just tie me here forever! I feel nauseated when Marie-Claudette shoves her tongue inside my mouth. I want this to end! I would pump my dick into action if I could. If it meant the torture would end. But I’m helpless. Powerless. I hate this feeling!
She’s not happy either. In fact she’s getting angrier by the minute. Good. Maybe she’ll let me go now.
“What’s going to take you to fuck me?”
“I would if I could ma chère. Too bad my cock’s not in the mood today.”
“It’s never in the mood for me. I’m getting tired of this. I love you, Marcel. But I’ve got my pride, you know.”
Marie-Claudette gets off of me and stands by the bed looking down at me. She seems very angry and unsure of what to do next. After a while she bends down to grab her clothes. I sigh in relief. She’s finally got it! It’s not going to happen.
“Very well then. Your choice, Marcel.”
I watch as she gets dressed, tugging at my shackles, impatient to get up again. My limbs feel numb. My ass is cold. My dick is sore and I feel miserable.
“If I can’t have you, no one else will though.”
Only then I realize she has her clothes on but doesn’t seem in a hurry to untie me. She starts circling the big four-posted bed as she chants in a strange language. It sounds French but it can’t be it because I don’t understand it. I pick a couple of words… it’s Latin! Panic twists my guts and bile raises to my throat as realization strikes me. The crazy woman’s casting a spell and there’s nothing I can do to stop her. A freezing wind blows in the room despite the balmy July night outside, twirling around us, making the hairs stand all over my body, knocking out things from the dresser, and banging the door against the wall. All of a sudden the young witch stops moving and chanting and throws her head back while her sweat covered body shakes as if she’s having a seizure. I’ve seen this kind of trance before. It means her incantation is almost done. Her body stops shaking and the unusual wind calms down. All goes quite. Deadly so. She opens her eyes and they seemed afire. I shake my head to make the illusion go away. It doesn’t work. The goosebumps seem to double their intensity as my naked skin crawls at the sight. Her otherworldly booming voice bounces off the bedroom walls when she speaks again, “Marcel Revault, I curse thee to stay in this house forever more. Nobody goes in. Nobody goes out after I leave.”
My fate is sealed. She storms out of the room and I hear the front door banging downstairs over my own shouts for help.
150 years later
That’s how I came to haunt this huge, beautiful French Quarter mansion. The witch left me tied to a bed to face a horrific death. I screamed until I got hoarse and my voice didn’t come out. I cried. I prayed to a God I didn’t believe in. Marie-Claudette never came back. Her spell sealed the house in a kind of vacuum so people wouldn’t hear me nor enter the house.
One would think a wealthy and young man like me couldn’t possibly go missing without raising suspicion. That might have been true for an ordinary person. However, I wasn’t a model citizen if you know what I mean. I guess my closest friends assumed I had gotten myself in trouble with some jealous husband. They knew too well about the many times I had been caught in bed with a married lady. Or two. Some of them had even helped me disappear from town in the dead of night to avoid being challenged to a duel. No married woman was worth risking my neck like that. My point is that I had discreetly left New Orleans so many times before that people wouldn’t think much of my disappearance until it was too late to save me. They wouldn’t be too off mark as I had arranged to set sail to Europe the following day but only my servants knew about it. I had sent them to the plantation manor so they also wouldn’t worry about me for a long time.
The spell lifted many years later when the witch died. By then my body had turned to dust due to the heat and damp of New Orleans. So when the government seized my estate for lack of an heir and sold the house no one remembered me. Although I’m still bound to the house I don’t complain about it. But
that’s not at all because of the trendy art gallery on the ground floor. That’s just a decoy. I’m talking about the real business upstairs - a very busy and exclusive sex club named Desire. There I get to participate in many interesting, sexy fantasies. Over the years I found out people can be quite kinky.
My favorite client is the gorgeous Clara Hervaux. She’s a movie star but that’s not why she’s my favorite. She’s one of the few people who can see me and interact with me. Most people will do that only when they’re sleeping. Some can even feel my touch when awake but it seems just like a feathery stroke of air. Others register my presence as a chill running down their spine or goosebumps forming for no reason. That’s not the case with my sweet Clara because she’s an empath who can see ghosts and talk to them as if they were living and breathing people. The naughty woman loves that gift actually.
Earlier today I heard the manager talking to her on the phone and found out she’s coming over tonight. I got a hard-on ever since that phone call. She’s so hot. She’s a tall woman with a curvaceous body and flaming red hair. These features bought her ticket out of Gutterville, USA to big screens everywhere around the world. Granted. She started in porn when she was barely legal but made her way to the top of her game. She has balls I give her that. And drive. And talent. Okay. I’ve made it clear why she’s my favorite right?
It’s just that I can hardly wait to see her again so I reminisce as I pace the room upstairs. All of a sudden I sense her approaching the Club and rush to the front door. She’s wearing heavy make-up. Purple eye shadow to highlight her dark green eyes, vibrant red lipstick and just a touch of blush. She’s wearing no bra under a white see-through top with long transparent sleeves that she wears under a black leather corset. It fastens under her large breasts pushing them up a bit. She’s wearing black silk stockings and my favorite black leather mini skirt. I bet the stockings are held on the top of her generous thighs by red garters. It’s her trademark along with her black lacy panties.
Her large breasts are my favorite feature though, which I squeeze slightly pinching her nipples as she stands by the door waiting for the hostess to arrive. She smiles at me and I see her shiver. I bet a gush of hot liquid is pooling in her sex. She can’t speak up but she knows I read minds. So she talks to me.
“Hey Marcel. I’ve missed you terribly, you know? I had to ditch a bunch of PAs, bodyguards, and fans at the hotel. Club Desire is not that far from the Omni Royal Orleans so I decided to walk here. But because of the paparazzi I put on a disguise and snuck out of the hotel through a side door. From there it was a short walk up Royal Street until I got here. Now is that the welcome I get from you? After all I’ve been through to be with you again?”
She is mocking me. I know it and I don’t mind. Tonight isn’t October 31st, which means she came for one of the Club’s staff members, not me. We can be together only on Halloween when I get a temporary physical body. (Okay. I know. It’s complicated. Don’t ask how this works because I honestly don’t know but I don’t complain about it.)
I don’t mind she’s here for a scene because I still get to take part in the action even though whoever else is in the room with her will never suspect me. Only my naughty Clara will know I’m there.
“Good evening, madam,” a stunning brunette, with the face of an angel and a perfect body made for sinning, wrapped in black leather and wearing impossibly high heels, greets Clara. She smiles sweetly at her showing her perfect white teeth and dimples and all.
“Hi. I’ve booked the Golden Suite for tonight.”
No names are necessary here. The staff knows each client. Club Desire is that exclusive.
“Yes, madam; it’s ready for you. Would you like to have a drink at the bar before going up?”
“No, just take me to the suite. I don’t have much time tonight. Make sure Sam knows I’ve already arrived,” she spurts out the words then adds as a second thought. “Please.”
Clara is a powerful person in Hollywood and she’s used to ordering people around. Not here, though. In Club Desire she’s the best sub any Dom could wish for. Tonight Sam is the lucky bastard. He’s one of her favorites. I don’t blame her. He’s very good at what he does. Not to mention he’s gorgeous.
The beautiful young woman nods and takes Clara straight to the top floor where the largest suite had been booked in advance.
“The scene has been set following your instructions, madam. Hope you like it.”
“Let me check it out. I’ll call you if there’s a problem. What’s your name?”
“Jenny, madam.”
“Very well, Jenny. Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, madam?”
“No, that’ll be all.”
When the brunette leaves, Clara takes her time inspecting the suite. It looks like an old Venetian ballroom decorated for an extravagant masquerade. The furniture is old European style; not very practical but extremely gracious. The huge four-poster bed is covered with red and golden cushions over a black brocade bedspread. This used to be my master bedroom. The owners have redecorated the whole house but kept some of the original furniture after having the pieces restored. For instance, this bed is the same one Marie-Claudette tied me to. Yes the same one on which I died over a century ago although nobody knows about it. Nobody except Clara of course. I told her that story when she first came to Club Desire. She runs her hand over the brocade of the bedspread while a faint smile touches her lips.
“Do you miss it? Living? I mean do you miss being alive?”
“Not when I’m with you,” I kiss her lightly on the top of her breasts and she chuckles.
“Smarty-pants.”
I wonder if she can hear the faint music drifting in from the French Quarter crowded bars because she moves around the room in rhythm with it. She doesn’t seem aware she’s doing that though.
“I overheard the manager talking to you and read your list of instructions as he wrote them down. All seems in order.”
“All except Sam of course,” she turns to me. Her eyes sparkle as big emeralds. “He loves keeping me on my toes. Sometimes quite literally. I prefer when he makes my toes curl though. Oh, God! What’s taking him so long? The anticipation is killing me. I’m sure he knows that, the bastard.”
“Clara, my dear, you know he has a day job. He must’ve gotten held up. Nobody would keep you waiting if they could be with you instead. I can keep you company and maybe warm you up for him while we wait.”
She laughs at my joke. Sam doesn’t know about me so he’d be very angry at his sub if she started the party without him. After all that’s what he’d think had happened. He drives carriages around the French Quarter. Surprisingly enough, this is a great way for picking up dates. There’s always a lonely tourist doing touristic stuff thinking they are getting a real taste of what Nola is all about! Most of them would like to get a taste of Sam too. Women and men alike. He’s got a square jaw, dark blue eyes and jet black hair. He’s 5’7” and his muscled body is framed by soft, golden skin. He is gorgeous. I give him that.
Business has been slow lately since the tourists vanished after the hurricane. It’s a shame the city’s still looking run-down. Lucky for Sam his appearance landed him this gig at Club Desire a few years ago. He fulfills the Club’s clients’ kinkiest fantasies. Since this is a referral-only kind of place, the owners pay good money for the staff’s discretion. Membership is comprised of some of the biggest celebrities and some of the most powerful people in the world. They treasure their privacy. That’s why you’ll never hear them mention this place in interviews and that’s why they pay a fortune to keep Club Desire as a well-kept secret. Some call it a haven. I call it home.
“I’ve been throbbing all day at the thought of your long legs wrapped around my waist, your feet locking behind my back as I bang you without mercy and make your beautiful tits spill out of a soft leather corset. How did you know what to wear to make crazy for you Clara?”
“This is my
favorite outfit silly. I’m glad you like it though.”
She blows me a kiss and winks at me when she gets to the center of the room where I stand. The air changes around her, becomes charged, “Can you fell it Clara?”
“Yes it’s like the air is crackling. Some weird vibration. Like electrostatic.”
I get nearer and ran a finger down her arm until her wrist. Her eyes follow my finger as her pulse accelerates. I marvel at the power my touch has on her feathery as it is. She’s such a passionate woman. My erection gets harder and it’s my turn to sigh. I do it into her ear and Clara closes her eyes. A new energy fills the room.
“Sam’s coming soon. We don’t have time for this Marcel.”
“I’m not going anywhere ma petite.”
Her frustration is evident when the air leaves her lungs in a low sigh. I smile at her reaction. Typical Clara. She needs to have things her way. Hard to get that with this ghost when she’s not asleep. Besides she knows me quite well by now. Well enough to know I won’t behave. I can’t keep my hands off of her warm skin and I don’t give a damn about Sam or any other Dom at Club Desire.
“Just stand still and enjoy the ride.”
I press the hard angles of my body against the soft curves of her back while my hands hold her tiny waist. I move slowly up her front until I reach her full, round breasts. My breathing quickens in rhythm with another part of my anatomy which now rests firmly nestled between her butt cheeks.
“You feel like heaven Clara.”
“Marcel seriously. You’ll get me in trouble.”
My fingers playing with her hard nipples and the sensations my tongue must be evoking as I twirl it inside her ear cut her off. I smile against her long neck where a vein throbs under my tongue.
“Sweet Clara.”
CHAPTER 2 - CLARA
“What are you doing standing there still in your clothes?” Sam’s voice sounds behind me and I freeze.