There's no shame in surrendering... #BDSM #Steampunk #SizzlingSunday

Seeing as it’s Sunday and all... why don’t I heat things up with a spicy excerpt from my latest release, Rajasthani Moon? This bit is the first physical engagement between my heroine Cecily and Pratan, the bandit prince who ultimately becomes her lover. Enjoy!

Rajasthani Moon by Lisabet Sarai

Steampunk shifter BDSM romance

Neither kink nor curse can stop a woman on a mission.

A bandit prince cursed into beast form under the full moon.

A brilliant but sadistic Rajah whose robotic sex toys mingle torture and delight.

A voluptuous spy on a mission from Her Majesty, tasked with discovering Rajasthan’s secrets.

She has never faced such a challenge.

Sizzling Excerpt

He dumped her without ceremony onto the straw-filled mattress, then unsheathed his knife. Before she could even cry out, he had sliced her filthy, rumpled clothing off her body, pulled the fabric from underneath her, and tossed the bright rags into a corner. He also relieved her of the knife strapped to her arm and her other earring.

He paused to ogle her nakedness, the dark eyes above his mask burning with lust. Cecily’s nipples peaked and her cunny moistened in response to his brazen inspection—she couldn’t help herself—and she was uncomfortably certain that her reactions were not lost on him.

Using her bound arms, she managed to manoeuvre herself into a sitting position, with her bound legs dangling over the edge of the bed. He watched, neither assisting nor hindering her, clearly amused by her awkward progress. Refusing to be cowed, she answered his bold stare with one of her own.

He was the one to break the silence. “So, my lady. Tell me now. Whom do I have the honour of entertaining here in my humble abode?”

“Why should I reveal my identity to someone who will not even show me his face?” Cecily stalled for time, trying to work out a plan.

“A reasonable point. Pardon me.” The man untied the cloth that hid his features, revealing a beak of a nose, black whiskers and lips that curled in a sardonic smile.

“You!” Cecily cursed inwardly as soon as the word escaped.

“You know me, woman?” His eyes narrowed and his brows drew together into a scowl.

“I–I have seen your picture, sir—in the Bombay newspapers…”

What was the Rajah’s brother doing, hiding away in a miserable hole like this? Why didn’t he have any servants or retainers? Why had he attacked her carriage? These questions and a dozen more assailed her. Meanwhile, she struggled to offer a coherent excuse.

“My brother recommended that I should contact you, Your Excellency, when I arrived in Jaipur… He wishes to establish relationships with your weavers, to purchase your justifiably renowned textiles, but owing to his failing health, he sent me in his stead…”

“Nonsense!”His voice was like thunder. “Do not insult my intelligence! You’re no merchant, madam! Who are you really? Or do I have to beat the truth out of you?”

Cecily kept her mouth closed. Like all Her Majesty’s agents, she’d been trained not to break under torture. Thus far, that training had never been put to the test.

Pratan seized her by her long hair and hauled her to her feet. Of course, with her ankles bound, she could not walk. Half pulling, half carrying, he bundled her over to the closest pillar, jerked her bound arms up, then pushed her face first against the rough wood. The bark abraded her naked breasts and belly. She tried to squirm away from him, but he leaned his weight against her back while keeping her wrists pinned against the pillar above her head.

“Rebind,” he growled. In a flash the robotic rope unravelled and reconfigured itself, looping tight around both her arms and the column supporting her. Once he was certain she was secure, he dropped to his knees and touched the rope at her ankles. “Unbind.”

Cecily stumbled as the force connecting her ankles disappeared. Her relief at being free was short-lived. Pratan dragged her legs apart and inserted some sort of rigid bar between her shins. “Bind.” Before she could take two breaths, her legs were restrained in a permanently spread position, wide enough to allow her captor easy access to her sex.

Indeed, realising the degree of her exposure made her terribly aware of her quim, which she could not deny was soaked and swollen. You must be strong, she told herself. Think of England.

The cool air of the cave teased her bared flesh. Then a light touch, delicate as a feather, traced its way along the inside of her thigh. Her pussy clenched and moisture dribbled out. The impudent finger smeared the juice across her sensitive skin. Pleasure sparked through her.

“You can’t fight me.” His voice was like warm honey now, all the anger gone. It flowed through her, unbearably sweet. “And I don’t think you want to. There’s no shame in surrendering when you’ve been rendered completely helpless.” Pratan trailed his fingers upward, brushing across her damp nether curls. Lightning struck, searing her aching clit. She convulsed in her bonds, unable to control her reactions.

“Who are you, my plump little dove? Tell me your name.” His roving fingers skimmed the slippery walls of her outer lips. She bit back her moan but couldn’t help arching back to seek more contact. He dipped into her wetness, deeper than before, but only for an instant. She writhed against the pillar, welcoming the scrape of the bark on her taut nipples.

He had three fingers inside her now, or maybe four, plunging in then pulling back before she could tighten her muscles to hold him inside. He still kept well away from her throbbing, needy clit. She ground her pubis against the tree trunk. The indirect pressure offered some relief, but not enough to satisfy her.

Swat! “None of that now!” His calloused palm landed on her bare arse with stunning force. Her soft flesh burnt in the wake of the slap. Meanwhile, the delicious stimulation in her cunny vanished. “I won’t let you spend until you’ve told me what I want to know.” Swat! His second swipe hurt more than the first. Her buttocks wobbled with the power of his third blow. The sting raced straight to her clit.

Cecily chewed at her lip to contain her groans. She’d make the Queen proud.

“Do I need to whip you? I’d be glad to.” Her skin chilled as he stepped away from her body, taking his heat with him. With her face turned in the opposite direction, she couldn’t see what he was doing, but she heard him moving around the cave. Her clit pulsed like a radio beacon, broadcasting her need and demanding attention. Her scent rose around her, overwhelming the musty dampness of the cave. She tried to relax, to let some of her arousal drain away. She would not—could not—allow him to break her. He seemed to know, though, that she could bear pain a good deal better than sexual frustration.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature - https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/363-rajasthani-moon-steampunk-shifter-bdsm-romance/

Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09DBMLQQG

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09DBMLQQG

Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1100493

Barnes and Noble - https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rajasthani-moon-lisabet-sarai/1140045684?ean=2940165000041

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