This
week my kiss excerpt comes from my food-themed BDSM menage novel 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?
The ingredients of bliss? Or a recipe for disaster?
When
you’ve recovered from my snog, I hope you’ll visit Victoria’s
Sunday Snog page for more sexy kisses!
“I’m
so confused, Harry.”
Harry
popped the last bite of his croissant into his mouth and licked black
currant jam from his fingers. Of course the sensual gesture made my
well-used pussy moisten once more. Did he do that deliberately? Or
was it just another example of our chemistry?
“Confused
about what?” He drained his espresso and set the cup down on the
tray.
He’d
untied me and now we were having a late Sunday breakfast in bed. Very
late—my alarm clock told me it was close to two pm. We were going
to miss the matinee of that new French film at the Lumiere. Again.
As
Harry circled my engorged nipple with a still-sticky fingertip, I
realized I didn’t mind.
Leaning
back among the pillows, I let him play with my body. I could have
sworn I was sated but before long, the familiar ache had returned,
the sense of emptiness that could only be relieved by Harry’s
cock—or one of the outrageous substitutes we’d purchased
together. I closed my eyes with a sigh of delight, giving myself up
to my extraordinarily talented lover.
He
hooked my pubic curls and gave a light pull, adding a sharp edge to
my languid pleasure. “You were saying, Mei Lee? Why are you
confused?” His attentive gaze made it clear he expected an answer.
I
struggled to organize my thoughts—not an easy task when given that
he had two fingers inserted between my pussy lips, stroking and
burrowing into my folds.
“Well…before
we met, I would never have thought I’d enjoy—well, you know—the
things we do.”
He
arched an eyebrow. “Things? Be specific, please.”
After
all this time together, he could still make me blush. And I knew it
amused him to see my pale cheeks grow pink with embarrassment.
“Come
on. You know what I’m talking about. Spankings. Being tied up.
Submission.” I sat up straighter, seeking a bit of dignity. “I’ve
always been assertive to the point of being bossy. Nobody would ever
believe that I could be a submissive. I can’t believe it.”
“But
it seems to be true,” he commented, punctuating his statement with
a hard twist to my nipple.
Lightning
shot from that tender nub down to my equally swollen clit.
“You
love it when I use you. Even the pain.”
I
nodded. “So after three months with you, I’m getting used to the
idea that I’m sexually submissive. Then I find myself getting
turned on when I order Etienne around. What’s going on? I don’t
know whether I’m really a top, just pretending to be submissive, or
really a bottom who happens to like the idea of dominating her boss.”
Harry
leaned in for a fruit-flavored kiss. Meanwhile, he kneaded my breasts
like bread dough, further leavening my arousal. I flung my arms
around his neck and pulled him closer, grateful for the moment to be
unbound so that I could run my palms over his smooth shoulders and
down his solid back. His mouth swept me back into a state of dizzying
lust. By the time he released me, I’d almost forgotten what we’d
been discussing.
“You
worry too much, love.” Harry ran his fingers through his tangled
locks then stretched out on the bed next to me. “Why not just
express your desires, wherever they lead you?”
“You
know the way I am, Harry. I need to understand. I like to be in
control of myself and the situation.”
With
sudden strength, he caught my wrists in one of his big hands and
dragged my arms over my head. Would he bind me again? Did I want him
to? Did it matter?
He
straddled my hips and settled his butt on my pelvis. His half-hard
penis bobbed against my abdomen. “You’re not in control when
you’re with me, and you seem to like that just fine.”
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