Here’s an adult excerpt from Grand Slam, a BDSM sports romance I co-wrote with Lily Harlem. I wanted to share a snippet in celebration of the US Open (around which much of the novel is set), and the fact that the book is currently available for 25% OFF on the Ellora’s Cave website. So if you want to grab this critically acclaimed novel at a bargain price, now’s your chance!
I knew she’d fucking liked it. I’d known all along—her body couldn’t lie—but the fact she’d admitted it first to herself and now to me was progress. It didn’t mean, of course, that she’d throw herself to her knees in front of me and call me Master, but I hoped it meant she was up for some exploration. With me. At least I hoped with me and not bloody Peter, not that he gave off any signs of being anything other than vanilla, but hey, most guys could be persuaded.
No, it had to be me, and she obviously trusted me to have confessed that much. And I desperately wanted that trust to extend further—for her to allow me to help her to delve into the side of her that had secretly enjoyed the pain and to see how far that side went. Could she trust me with that pleasure? Offer me her body completely? It didn’t mean she was submissive, of course. It just meant she liked pain with her pleasure and was confident enough in herself as a sexual woman to admit it.
Damn, that was attractive.
But something, some instinct based in the darkest, kinkiest side of me, told me that there was more to it than that. And I was determined to coax it out of her, to help her to explore her full potential. Whatever that may be.
I suddenly became aware of the silence in the room and realized that I hadn’t said anything in response to her confession. I looked at her brown eyes, wide and expectant.
Standing, I moved slowly—still careful not to freak her out—over to the sofa and sat in the empty seat she usually occupied. Her client-grilling seat.
“Thank you for being honest with me, Marie. Thank you for trusting me. That can’t have been easy. Our mutual arrangement stands though. What you’ve told me will never go any further. Now,” I said, reaching out to stroke her hand, the one that rested nearest me. She didn’t pull away, which I took as a positive sign. “I’m happy to help you learn about BDSM, but as is often the case, the best way to learn is by practical demonstration.”
A tiny crease appeared between her eyebrows as she assessed me, probably trying to work out if I was joking or not. I took the hand I’d been stroking and squeezed it gently.
“Do you want to try something now? Just something mild, I mean.”
She gazed at me for a second longer, then nodded slowly.
“Okay,” I said, trying not to appear too eager—or desperate. “Get up.”
I released her hand and we both stood. I beckoned her closer. “Now,” I said, pausing to touch her face lightly, “an important thing to remember is something we’ve already mentioned several times. Trust. You have to trust in your Dominant—or Dom—and if you can’t, then he’s not right or good for you. You have to be comfortable in taking instruction from your Dom, knowing that he’ll never make you do anything that would truly harm you. Also, submission and masochism aren’t the same thing. They often go hand-in-hand, but not always. It’s possible to be one thing or the other. I hate to say ‘thing’, but you know what I mean, don’t you?”
Marie nodded, her expression expectant. I wasn’t sure if she was waiting for more information or for me to actually do something, but either way I was pleased with how things were going. Mainly because she hadn’t run away, glanced at the door or checked her watch. Yet. There was still time to inadvertently scare the shit out of her.
“Have you thought about whether you’re one or the other? Or both?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure, really. I liked the pain, you know that, but when you were telling me what to do, it just annoyed me. But then I wasn’t really expecting anything like that to happen.”
“Fair enough. So now things are different between us, shall we try something?” The softly-softly approach was really hard for me, clearly at odds with my natural personality, but I wanted Marie so badly that I’d deal with it. For now. Besides, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be much of a Master would I? And I prided myself in being experienced and skilled when it came to domination.
“O-okay,” she replied, fiddling with the hem of her blouse.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you. It’s just a little experiment, nothing else. Just to see how you feel. If it floats your boat, so to speak.”
She gave me what could only be described as a relieved smile. I reached forward and put my fingers beneath her chin, lifting her head. Then I closed the space between us and did something I’d been dying to do for days—I kissed her. I had an ulterior motive too. I wanted to use her reaction to me kissing her to gauge what to do next, what I thought she’d be able to take.
Her lips were soft, supple, and she opened them to admit my tongue almost instantly, causing my semierection to grow quickly into a full one, which pressed insistently against the crotch of my jeans. Aching for her.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into me, resisting the temptation to grind my cock against her. She’d know damn well how hard I was without me doing that. I wondered if she was getting wet, whether the gusset of her knickers was damp. Because of me, because of what we were talking about. What we were doing.
She slipped her arms around my waist and I did a mental cheer. She was definitely into this, into me, and the little moans issuing from her throat emphasized that fact, boosting my confidence and rendering me capable of what I did next.
I pulled away from the kiss, leaving her gasping with spots of color on her cheeks and fully dilated pupils. She looked amazing, perfect, and I wanted her so much it hurt.
“Okay,” I said, “now get on your knees.”
My breath caught when, after the slightest hesitation, she did as I asked, dropping to her knees on the plush carpet. Before she changed her mind, I reached down and undid my jeans, then pulled my cock out of my boxers, pointing the head in her direction.
“Now suck it.”
My heart pounded as she looked up at me, an inscrutable expression on her face. She appeared frozen, stunned by my bold move. But that was okay, I was good at giving orders.
“Suck me off, Marie, now.”
She swallowed then inched her mouth closer and closer to my dick. I forced myself to stay still, not to grab her hair and pull her on to me. Maybe that day would come, but it wasn’t going to happen this afternoon. The last thing I wanted was a pissed-off woman with her mouth—and therefore teeth—anywhere near my cock. Marie was a firecracker all right, and I wouldn’t put it past her to show displeasure in such a way.
After what seemed like an age, her lips closed around the tip of my shaft and I was swiftly catapulted toward Heaven on Earth.
Grab your copy here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/grand-slam/
Add it to Goodreads here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18212109-grand-slam
Raw Talent website: http://rawtalentseries.co.uk
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She ownsErotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9