I didn’t care what he doled out. It would be worth it. Having Luke writhing, panting, giving himself over to me was off-the-scale erotic. My pussy was moist and swollen with excitement. I’d never dreamed that I’d do this to a lover. He was so close to orgasm. Hovering, teetering, one more stroke. My God, if his fans could see him now.
I sucked him to the back of my throat, hugging his shaft with my tongue and creating a strong hold. At the same time I massaged his prostate, treating it to gentle circular movements and caressing it like it was the most precious thing I’d ever touched.
I heard him drag in a deep breath and hold it.
A pulse in his shaft thrummed around my mouth. The base tendon, at the root of his erection, elongated and rose against my lips.
I had him. We were at the point of no return.
“Fuck!” He jolted upwards as a ripple rose through his cock, culminating in a shot of cum into my throat. “Fucking…hell…”
I swallowed and kept up my assault in his back passage.
He bucked, groaned and clenched his sphincter around my finger. His legs relaxed, flexed then hugged me close against his body.
Another flood of cum as he pressed my face into his groin and his cock to the very back of my throat. His small internal nub of pleasure was firm yet pulpy against my fingertip and I worked it through his orgasm. My actions seemed to extend his pleasure taking him on and on, cresting over waves of bliss.
He was experiencing a whole body climax that sent shards of satisfaction through me, and his guttural groans were going straight to my clit. I’d never heard him so wild with release. Usually he had some modicum of control but this felt like his cries were being ripped from him and his muscles were spasming with near violence, over and over.
Semen seeped from my lips, catching in the thick hair that covered his groin. I struggled for breath and he released my head.
I pulled up, gasping, and grabbed his shaft as another string of pearly cum shot from him, landing stickily on his abdomen.
“Emma, Emma,” he said, curling forward and staring at me with wide eyes. “Fuck, your finger…in there…doing that…”
“Feel good?” I asked, giving his prostate another swipe and sliding my hand up his cock.
His eyeballs rolled back and I saw white beneath his dark irises.
“You have to ask?” He suddenly shifted away and my finger slipped from him. “But that’s all I can take, fuck, I feel like I’m still coming.” He gripped my hand which was still grasping his cock and moved it up and down. He stared into my face as a shudder swept its way over his tense stomach muscles.
“Shh…” I soothed, kissing his thigh and up to the sexy groove on the inside of his hip. “Shh, I’ve got you.”
He was silent for a moment, gasping for breath, and then when he spoke his voice was hoarse. “That’s my line.”
Suddenly I was up and over him. He’d dragged me along his body and wrapped his arms and legs around me. Heat encircled my sweat-damp skin and his solid pecs pressed into my breasts.
“I’m the one calling the shots, not you,” he said sharply. He rolled over so I was beneath him.
His weight on me always thrilled me, but he was careful not to crush me despite his chest still heaving as he caught his breath.
“I didn’t hear you complaining ten seconds ago,” I said, twitching my eyebrows in a way that I knew would make him strain to discipline me.
Damn I’m pushing my luck today, what the hell is wrong with me?
He caught my chin in his hand. “Complain? I couldn’t even form coherent thoughts, let alone speak.” He pulled back, set his lips in a straight line and a flash of excitement crossed over face. “And for getting me into that state you’ll pay the price.”
“Which is?” I slid my palms over his smooth shoulders and down the gutter of his spine before slipping over his hard buttocks and squeezing.
“For me to know and you to find out.”
He pressed his palms onto the bed, either side of my head and straightened his arms. He looked down at my small, pale body beneath his.
“Now where did I put that belt?” he asked, licking his lips.
Chapter Four
I scooted off of Emma, looking for the belt, which I found on the floor next to the bed. It must have gotten knocked off during our sexy tussle. I clearly hadn’t noticed—but then, there could have been an earthquake and I wouldn’t have realised.
Christ, my mind and body were still reeling from what had happened and my arsehole buzzing at the new sensations it had been treated to. Jesus that had been intense, dirty little minx.
All I wanted was to continue the erotic game while my cock recovered ready for round two. And what better way than to reprimand my future wife for her disobedience? It didn’t matter that the disobedience had resulted in the most powerful orgasm I’d ever experienced, she still needed to be punished. Feeling the kiss of leather on her buttocks would do the trick and I knew damn well she wouldn’t have any complaints in that department. She was always greedy for pain, of the erotic variety.
Folding the belt and gripping the ends, I shifted my hands towards each other, then jerked them back out, making the sides of the belt collide with a loud snap. Emma jumped, her eyes wide with excitement and her hand clutched to her heart.
“Time for some discipline. Now be a good subbie and come here. I want you bent over the bed.”
Wordlessly, she clambered off the mattress and assumed the position I’d requested; arse up, head down and elbows bent. Only when her back was turned did I allow myself the smirk I’d been holding in. I was going to enjoy this. But then, so was she. It had been a while since I’d used the belt like this and I knew it was her favourite implement of sensual torture.
Holding the belt in my left hand, I used my right to reach out and touch Emma’s delectable buttocks. I stroked them with feather-light touches, caresses that I knew made the hair on her skin stand on end, a ripple of sensation that would be the complete opposite of what was coming next.
Sure enough, goose flesh soon covered her bum cheeks and she shuddered. Deliberately, I counted to five before switching the belt to my right hand, unfurling it and swinging it through the air at my side. The whooping sound dragged a gasp from her lips, but I hadn’t yet aimed it at her, so it cut through nothingness, then gravity brought it back down to my side.
I chuckled. “Such a tease, aren’t I?”
She didn’t reply, but then I hadn’t expected, or commanded, her to.
The next time I swung the belt I was aiming for her. As I gripped the buckle end and the leather strip landed squarely in the middle of her right buttock.
Emma grunted, but I didn’t give her chance to fully process the pain, instead sending another line of fire racing across her left cheek. Pausing momentarily for effect, I then laid into her with practised skill, confident that I could bring her to the very edge of climax without hitting her too hard or leaving any lasting damage. Her arse would be beautifully pink, then red, but the marks would fade by the morning.
A glance toward the rest of her body showed both her hands gripping hard onto the duvet, and a tension that told me she was ready for anything. I continued to lay stripe after stripe on her pale skin, covering every inch of her bottom and the tops of her thighs until she glowed pink.
Then I began again, eager to make the pink turn a bright red, and for her to be so desperate for release that she’d probably come as soon as I buried my cock inside her cunt. I could hardly wait and my erection was growing, tapping against my abdomen as I moved.
Picking up my pace, I whacked my girl’s bottom relentlessly until it was a vivid red and I could smell her arousal. Foxy and pungent, her need assaulted my nostrils and ramped up my own by several notches.
Writhing with pleasure, Emma moaned her approval of my precision and willingness to strike her just the way she needed it most. Her gorgeous body, and her rapidly reddening arse were a sensual feast for my eyes.
Abandoning the belt, I reached out and grasped her heated bottom, digging my fingernails in for no other reason than causing her additional pain—the kind she liked. Stepping forward, I nestled my cock in her cleft and pushed her no doubt smarting cheeks together, pumping my hips a handful of times to tease her, having my cock so close to where she needed it most.
She groaned and twitched, her head tossing from side to side and her hair landing messily over her face.
But I couldn’t tease for long. I wanted her just as much as she wanted me. So I softened my grip on her arse, simply holding onto her, and manoeuvred until the tip of my shaft rested against her entrance. Already I could feel her heat, her slickness, and I held back for a second before giving in and plunging inside in one gliding movement.
She was so wet, so ready, her cunt gripped me snugly as each inch disappeared. The feel of her was already threatening to send me over the edge.
“Christ, you’re tight, baby. Feels so damn good.”
“Yeah! Fuck me, Luke, please.”
I was already succumbing to lust so I almost let her comment slide, but pulled it back at the very last second. “Sorry? What did you call me?” I smacked her right buttock hard, wrenching a strangled moan from her throat.
“S—sorry! I’m sorry. I meant fuck me, Sir, please.”
“That’s better,” I said, my tone laden with anger I didn’t really feel. How could I be truly angry when I had it all; perfect job, perfect house, perfect woman? An exceptionally beautiful woman that was beneath me, begging to be pounded until we both came.
Shifting around until I was in the optimum position, I began to rock my hips, sliding my cock in and out of Emma’s silky heat. My steady movements betrayed the desperation I really felt, but I couldn’t hold out for long. I’d already come once, but it didn’t matter. She’d done something to me with that finger up my arse, I was sure of it, made me even more sex-mad than I was before.
Pulling in a deep breath, I upped my pace, alternating between shallow and deep thrusts so as to hold off my climax that bit longer. Emma’s pussy just felt so damn good that I wanted to fuck her forever and a day. But I also wanted to come. By the sounds Emma was making and the way her cunt gripped my cock, it seemed she was growing closer, too.
I slipped my right hand beneath our bodies, quickly finding her swollen clit. Gathering some of the copious juices from where our bodies were joined, I slicked them over her bud, repeating the action a couple more times until she was good and lubricated. Continuing to fuck her hard and deep, I scissored my index and middle fingers around the distended flesh, pinching it between them, then beginning to rub. She’d told me in the past that when I did that, it seemed to touch every last nerve ending in her clit. And I wanted those nerve endings sparking, ready to set alight as she climaxed on my cock.
I didn’t think it was possible, but as I stroked her pussy, it gripped ever harder around my shaft. So hard it almost hurt. I didn’t stop, though, didn’t slow down. Instead I simply fucked her faster, deeper, the friction on my dick incredible, and the room filling with the sounds of our frantic lovemaking. Moans, groans, yelps, expletives, skin slapping against skin, and the delicious wet, clicking, squelching sound that Emma’s cunt made as I pounded it.
The signals that I was about to come had hit me, and still I’d refused to let go. But, inevitably, my body overpowered my mind, wrenching my orgasm out of me with a ferocity that easily matched the one I’d had with my fiancée’s finger up my backside.
Yelling and bucking into Emma with short, sharp thrusts, I tumbled into blissful oblivion, filling her delicious cunt with my spunk. My energy started to seep away and I collapsed onto her back, using my left hand to hold my weight as my right continued to strum her clit until she followed me into climax.
“Oh… Sir,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I’m so close. Please, Sir, make me come. Hard. Bite me.”
It took a second for my brain to register the last comment she’d thrown in there, but once I did, I happily obliged. Shoving her ponytail out of the way, I sank my teeth into the strip of flesh between shoulder and neck, hard enough to hurt, and to mark, but not so much it would detract too much from the other sensations she was experiencing.
It seemed the extra stimulation did the trick, and not a moment too soon. My right hand, still riding up and down the apex of her slick vulva, had begun to cramp, but I didn’t stop until she was well and truly over the edge. She screamed her release, her internal walls gripping so hard they almost forced my cock out of her, then spasming wildly around me.
I waited several long seconds until the waves of Emma’s climax had ebbed, then disentangled from her body, lifted her carefully further onto the bed, rolled her onto her side and tucked myself behind her.
She muttered something in her dazed state, something I didn’t quite catch. I took a chance.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
Murmuring happily, she squirmed further into my embrace and gave a contended sigh.
Pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, I held her tighter. I really was the luckiest man alive. But then I couldn’t lose, not really. Win, lose or draw, the end result was always orgasmic.
*****
More about Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse
Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse are both prolific writers who share a love of hot, toned-to-perfection athletes who wield their talents both in and out of the bedroom. With nerves of steel, precision timing and enough testosterone to fuel a jet engine, Lily and Lucy’s heroes (and heroines) come in the shape of tennis players, footballers, hockey stars and more. And it’s not just male/female loving going on outside of the court, rink or pitch either, these authors like to dabble with gay romance, ménage a trois and BDSM so there really is something for everyone. If you, too, appreciate guys and gals who insist on winning, strive for being the-best-of-the-best, then check out the Raw Talent series, Hot Ice and if footballers press your buttons try Scored.
Praise for Lily Harlem and Lucy Felthouse
“Grand Slam is an invitation into the meaning of a BDSM relationship based on love, trust and respect. The characters are two incredibly strong individuals who learn that being together can make them stronger. I love the easy introduction into a light dominate, submissive relationship. Grand Slam is an amazing love story for the romantic at heart, with just enough BDSM to interest those who appreciate extra spice in their life. Ms. Harlem and Ms. Felthouse have an amazing talent of balancing the BDSM lifestyle with the romance of love.”
Coffee Time Romance
“The chemistry between Travis and Marie is hot. The sex scenes were sizzling. I can’t wait to read the next book in the series.”
Night Owl Reviews
“This hot and steamy sports themed book has it all. I enjoyed Grand Slam a lot! …very well written with a lot of attention paid to details – particularly the details of their sexual romps which are scorching hot! Overall, it’s an erotic romance that teases and definitely pleases your literary senses.”
The Jeep Diva
The Wife
By Kay Jaybee
Jade walked slowly along the right hand corridor, wiping her clammy palms self-consciously down the front of her jeans. Barely noticing the hospital’s sterile cream walls, hung with the occasional bizarrely abstract painting designed to cheer an otherwise depressing atmosphere, she turned left, left again, and then right, until she saw the small reception desk she’d been hunting for.
There were two women behind the desk, each with a computer terminal flashing before them, their fingers dancing over the attached keyboards. The identity tags they wore around their necks hung on long straps that reached below the line of the desk, so Jade was unable to see which of the women was the one she was hunting for.
“Can I help you?”
Jade had been expecting the question, but it still made her flinch as she was regarded by the pale blue eyes of a pretty blonde woman, with a young kind smile, “I um... I’m searching
for Karen Marks.”
The other receptionist looked up, a questioning expression crossing her oval face, “That’s me.”
She had a darker complexion than Jade had imagined. Long black hair hung loose down her back, her eyes shone green, and her skin glowed with the remnants of a tan. Jade suddenly realised she shouldn’t have been surprised by that; after all, she already knew this woman had been to Spain within the last month.
Feeling her mouth go dry, Jade was unable to speak in the face of the striking thirty- something woman before her. Karen Marks was far more attractive than she had allowed herself to imagine. There was something disconcerting about the mistress discovering that the wife was an eye-catching self-assured woman, and not the cold harridan that had been portrayed to her. No, that wasn’t true. Neil had never told her what Karen looked like; or even what she was like. Jade had never asked him. She had simply presumed. She had presumed wrong.
“I...” Jade licked her lips nervously, “I wonder if we could have a quick word in private.”
Karen’s eyes narrowed and the curt nod of her head told Jade that somehow she’d been expecting her visit, if not today, then one day. Referring to her colleague, she said, “I might as well take my lunch now,” and rose from her chair before leaving the reception area. “This way,” Jade had to jog to keep up as Karen’s long slender legs marched down a neighbouring corridor, her heels clicking purposely against the tiled floor, before she disappeared into a side room.
The small space had once been a treatment room, but now it was a store for unused medical equipment. Boxes were haphazardly piled up and scattered around an old ripped examination couch.
When she finally turned to face Jade, Karen’s expression was strangely calm, “So, how long?”
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