I’ve got a three-way snog today, from my BDSM ménage novel The Ingredientsof Bliss. Hope you enjoy it!
When you’re done here, head back to Victoria’s for more sexy Sunday kisses!
Blurb for The Ingredients of Bliss
One sexy French chef. One kinky American TV producer. One ambitious Chinese gal who thinks she wants them both. The ingredients of bliss? Or a recipe for disaster?
Accomplished cook Mei Lee ‘Emily’ Wong knows exactly what she wants—her own show on the Tastes of France food channel. But life is full of complications. First, her deceptively nerdy producer, Harry Sanborne, initiates Emily into the delights of submission. Then her boss, legendary chef Etienne Duvalier, begs her to dominate him. Emily just can’t resist—especially when Harry orders her to explore her inner mistress. Suave and sexy Etienne will do whatever she asks—in the bedroom if not in the kitchen. And Harry, her lovingly diabolical Dom, adores pushing Emily’s limits.
When the network sends the trio to France to shoot a series of cooking shows on location, Emily knows her career is on the upswing. Her plans fall apart in Marseille as a Hong Kong drug syndicate kidnaps both Etienne and Harry. The Iron Hammer Triad mistakes Etienne for notorious gangster Jean Le Requin, who has stolen their drug shipment, worth millions. Emily realizes she must find the real Le Requin, retrieve the purloined dope, and bargain it for Harry’s and Etienne’s lives. The secret she’s been keeping from Harry might prove useful. Still, what chance does one woman whose knife skills are limited to chopping vegetables, have against the ruthless cruelty of two criminal organizations?
You’ve got nothing to hide now.” With his lanky frame, mussed hair and crooked grin, Harry almost looked like a teenager. A very horny teen, considering the substantial erection bobbing hopefully at his groin. He flipped back onto his side and fixed me with a slightly fuzzy gaze. He was irresistibly cute without his glasses. “Everything’s out in the open.”
“But it’s all so—complicated!” As usual, my objections began to melt in the warmth of his smile.
He danced his fingers up my outstretched thigh and my pussy clenched in anticipation.
“On the contrary, I think this considerably simplifies the situation—Ms Wong.” Etienne’s voice was deferential, but I read a mirror of Harry’s mischief in his expression. “I serve you. You serve Harry. Each of us gets what he or she wants.”
“There’s no more need for secrets, love. Or for surreptitiously administered enhancements to the libido, either…” Harry slipped a fingertip between my moist lips and grazed a fingernail across my clit.
My annoyance paled next to the flare of pleasure kindled by his touch. Before I could clamp down to hold his hand in my crotch, however, he’d snatched it away.
“Oh no!” I groaned, fighting arousal and disappointment. “You told him…?”
“I had my suspicions in any case. It doesn’t matter. Your methods might have been dubious, but I’m grateful for the results.” Etienne glanced down at the livid marks from my beating, a set of parallel strips leading up his lean thighs toward his rearing cock. “I might never have had the courage to act on my desires if not for your—um—intervention.” His voice held quiet pride.
“You don’t have to be ashamed or embarrassed,” Harry added. “All we want—both of us—is to satisfy you. To please you and make you happy. Can’t you just accept that?”
Harry hooked an arm around my neck and pulled me down into lush kiss. His tongue was assertive as ever, yet I caught a hint of uncertainty in his manner. Under his brashness, he worried that I’d reject the solution he and Etienne had worked out. If I did, would I choose him, or the suave, glamorous chef?
I relaxed and let him plunder my mouth, offering reassurance via my physical surrender. His hands roamed over my body, visiting all the sensitive spots he’d discovered in our months together. There was no pain now, only bliss, pouring from him into me.
Warmth pressed against my back. I smelled vanilla and thyme. Etienne’s fingers joined Harry’s, tracing along the top of my corset. He stroked the tender flesh under my arm, making me shiver, then let his palm wander down my side to the curve of my hip. His uncharacteristic boldness increased the thrill of his touch. You’ll be sorry, I thought, giddy with desire, as Harry continued his hungry kisses. I’ll trash your butt until you can’t sit down.
Etienne knew he’d be punished. We both knew that was part of his motivation.
Only part, though. I felt the hair lifted off my neck, the moist, gentle pressure of Etienne’s lips between my shoulder blades. The eloquence of that simple gesture almost brought tears to my eyes. I eased my lips away from Harry’s, beaming him a look I hoped was full of love. Then I swiveled to offer my mouth to Etienne.
The chef accepted my kiss with the eagerness of a starving man. He opened to the probing of my tongue, letting me drink my fill of him. I tasted the walnut mousse he’d sampled earlier at L’Auberge de Francois-Martine and the Courvoisier he’d used to wash it down. Under it all, I caught a hint of some half-bitter flavor that reminded me of rainy autumn afternoons in Jardin les Tuileries. As I kissed him, I realized I’d been craving this since the first day he’d graced me with that haughty smile.
While his mouth was subservient, his hands became increasingly more brazen, palming my breasts and thumbing my nipples, then sneaking down to tease my lower lips. Meanwhile, Harry was busy unlacing my corset. I hadn’t appreciated how much the garment had constrained me until he managed to slip it off, somehow without breaking the lip-to-lip connection between Etienne and me.
I paused to draw in a lungful of the sex-scented air and looked from one man to the other. Had Harry minded my kissing Etienne? Did Etienne think I was rejecting him for Harry?
Both of my lovers wore broad smiles. Relief washed over me. The last vestiges of guilt evaporated. And I was too horny to be embarrassed.