Down in the engine room ... #MFRWsteam #VictorianErotica #Steampunk #Feminist

Welcome to the September MFRW Steam Hop! Today’s the day when authors whose stories include erotic elements (like yours truly) get the opportunity to showcase their work.

I have an excerpt from my latest boxed set release, The Toymakers Guild: The Complete Series. The collection, which is available exclusively on Amazon and which is free for Kindle Unlimited subscribers, seems to be doing quite well. Last time I looked, it was ranked #190 in all Victorian erotica, and under 200,000 on Amazon as a whole.

Finding an erotic bit from this series isn’t difficult; indeed, the real problem occurs when I need a PG excerpt! But for the Steam Hop I want to share an excerpt that’s new, not part of my media kit or previous posts. Here’s one the fits the bill, the first erotic encounter between my heroine Gillian and Jeremiah Manley, a Jamaican young man who’s the ship’s engineer on a Dover to Calais steamer. Later in the story, Jeremiah joins the Toymakers and becomes on of Gillian’s most devoted lovers.

Let me know what you think!

Blurb

At Randerley Hall, lust is a lubricant to creativity. Nothing is impossible. Nothing is forbidden.

Defying the repressive morality of the Victorian era, the Toymakers Guild uses advanced technology to fabricate bespoke sexual devices for the discrete pleasure of select clients. Its members are not only brilliant engineers but also sexual renegades seeking freedom from the prudish society that surrounds them.

Nineteen-year-old prodigy Gillian Smith arrives at Randerley to apply for an apprenticeship in the Guild. With her technical abilities and her lascivious temperament, she is eminently suited to join the Master Toymaker’s close-knit band of uninhibited erotic artisans. Gillian flourishes among the Toymakers, designing and implementing ever-more-outrageous carnal contraptions. Each voluptuous commission she completes, each sensual adventure she enjoys, binds her more tightly to the Guild and to the perverse, tortured genius who is its founder.

If you like brilliant, wanton women and kinky steam punk sex toys, dive into the alternate universe of the The Toymakers Guild.

Excerpt

The ship was eerily silent as they abandoned their hiding place, slipped onto the deck, and ducked into a companionway to descend two levels. Somewhat to her surprise, the engine room was not by the propeller as she’d assumed, but near the middle of the vessel in the vicinity of the funnels. Upon consideration, she realised this made sense. It was simpler to transmit kinetic energy via gears and shafts than to send smoke and hot vapour over a long distance. There were likely considerations of weight as well; locating tons of water in the rear of the boat would tend to raise the bow.

Their footsteps echoed in the dim steel-clad corridor. Occasional electric light fixtures on the low ceiling allowed them to find their way. “She has generators to provide power when the engines are shut down,” Jeremiah commented, apparently noticing Gillian’s curious upward glances. “Otherwise we’d have to do repairs and maintenance by lantern light – difficult and inconvenient.” He stopped outside a rivet-studded metal door outlined by a rubber gasket and inserted his key.

There was significant resistance as he pushed the door open.

“I gather it’s important to keep the engine room sealed,” said Gillian.

Her companion nodded. “If the hull were to be breached, water would fill this passageway. We need to protect the fires that heat the boilers.”

Down here in the belly of the ship, the quiet was not absolute. She heard occasional clanging, as well as intermittent rumbling which she assumed must be coal sliding into the hold. A little spike of fear quickened her breathing. What if someone discovered them here, in Invicta’s heart?

Jeremiah stepped over the raised threshold then held out his hand to help her across. “Do come in, Jill.”

She’d expected a cramped, dirty space. Instead, she found herself in a metal-walled compartment that soared at least one storey over her head, possibly two. An iron ladder affixed to the far wall climbed into the shadows above them. To the right were the boilers, three tall vessels of polished brass, while a shiny array of gauges, levers, dials and valves covered the surface to her left. A huge steel pipe, easily a foot in diameter, traversed the chamber diagonally a few feet above the floor, emerging from the closest boiler to exit through a rubber-lined aperture at the back.

“Oh, how wonderful!” she cried. Tiptoeing closer, she peered at the controls. “It’s possible to separately monitor and adjust the pressure in each of the expansion chambers. Also in the feeder pipes and the different regions of the main steam duct that leads to the screw’s gear box, if I am not mistaken.”

“You’re exactly right, Jill.” He’d come up behind her and spoke close to her ear, his voice soft and seductive as velvet. “So tell me, how is it that you know so much about machines?” He slipped an arm around her waist, then leaned closer to flick his tongue over her earlobe.

Pleasure sizzled down her spine at that intimate gesture. All at once she noticed how hot it was in the engine room, a phenomenon that was hardly surprising considering the quantities of boiling water and steam that surrounded them. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her clothing suddenly felt unbearably heavy and tight.

As though reading her mind, Jeremiah snaked his other hand up to her throat and began undoing the buttons of her bodice to provide her with relief.

His nimble fingers had unfastened at least half of them before she roused herself to object. She twisted out of his grasp and whirled around to face him, knowing her shift was clearly visible through the gap he’d created. “Wait—don’t—I mean...” Her heart slammed against her ribs. Perspiration drenched her armpits. The dampness between her thighs, on the other hand, was more than mere sweat.

Jeremiah’s dark eyes snagged hers, blazing with lustful challenge. “Who are you?” His pearly, slightly predatory grin sent her pulse climbing. “No, wait, you needn’t answer. I can tell you’re an engineer, and I’ll wager you’re brilliant at what you do. But for whom do you work? What sort of enterprise would hire a remarkable young woman like you?”

She shouldn’t tell him. The Guild required her discretion. But oh, what if he refused to take her if she didn’t confess? She wanted him so badly. Could she seduce him, in order to distract him from his interrogation?

She met his stare boldly. “Why do you care?” she asked, her fingers busy with the rest of her buttons. Shrugging off the loosened garment, she draped it over the big steam pipe. Her nipples made distinct peaks under the linen of her chemise. Jeremiah would notice, she had no doubt. When it came to women and sex, he was obviously no novice.

“Because I need a new job,” he countered. With casual grace, he peeled off his jacket and laid it next to her discarded bodice. “And I have a hunch that your employer might give me one.”

He took a step forward, reached for her, and pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tender breasts against his lean body. The delicious pressure woke sparks, bright bursts of sensation that skittered down to her core. He bent to nuzzle her throat, alternating licks and nips, then inserted his thigh into the gap between her own and applied exquisite friction to her hidden clit.

Gillian couldn’t help herself. She writhed in his embrace, grinding herself against his leg. “Oh, by Ptolemy’s epicycles! Jeremiah!”

“Is there something you want, Miss?” The man’s voice was husky with desire, but edged with laughter too. He drew back, so that their eyes met. At the same time, he pinched one of her shamelessly protruding nipples.

She gasped at the intricate mingling of pain and delight. “Oh, please!” Heedless of propriety, she reached down to cup the prominent bulk of his erection, stroking the lusciously hard shaft through the cloth. “This – this is what I want.” She settled her buttocks against the steam duct and raised her skirts to her waist to show him the plump folds of her cunny, peeking through the slit in her drawers. “Take me – take me quickly! I beg you!”

“And you’ll tell me what I want to know?” He didn’t seem inclined to wait for her answer, though. In fact, the former ship’s officer was already unfastening his trousers and setting his cock free. It rose like an ebony tower from his loins, crowned by a taut dome of lighter brown. He swept his palm along his substantial length once or twice, then stepped into the vee of her spread thighs.

Buy Links

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CGQMD3S6/

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CGQMD3S6/

https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0CGQMD3S6/

https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0CGQMD3S6

Free on Kindle Unlimited!

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/198043949-the-toymakers-guild

Add on BookBub -

https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-toymakers-guild-the-complete-series-by-lisabet-sarai

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Steam Hop!

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Anyone is fair game – #MultiPartner #LustyMonthOfMay #MFRWsteam

Welcome to this month’s MFRW Steam Hop – a blog hop with no holds barred!

I write a good deal of erotic romance, but the book I’m featuring today really doesn’t fit that label. The Slut Strikes Back is erotica, pure and simple. Well, not really that simple – my main character Lauren has rather complex desires. And come to think of it, definitely not pure! It’s steamy without being stupid, though, and a lot of fun overall.

The Slut Strikes Back is free at Smashwords as part of my Lusty Month of May celebration. See the details after my excerpt. And if you haven’t done so yet, I hope you’ll enter my drawing for a $25 bookstore gift certificate. Just complete a short survey, here:

https://forms.gle/TFvmc9ZegEn4RuJr5

If you’re a member of my VIP email list, your entry will count twice! Not a member? Join here:

https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

What have you got to lose (except your inhibitions)?

Blurb

“Find someone else to satisfy your needs.”

When her husband complains about her constant sexual demands, MILF Lauren Gordon is shocked and hurt – and determined to act on his instructions.

Lauren has never strayed outside the bounds of her marriage, but now that she has permission, she unleashes her voracious libido on her gorgeous girlfriend next door, the UPS delivery man, and anyone else who strikes her fancy.

Her husband called her a slut in order to shame her. Lauren wears the title with pride. When he comes home to find her gang banging her son’s buddies from the college wrestling team, he realizes he’s made a huge mistake. He wants his slutty wife back. But once you’ve freed the genie, you can’t put it back in the bottle.

If you love wild adventures of wanton women, you'll love The Slut Strikes Back.

 

Excerpt

A noise out by the swimming pool interrupted the flow of her thoughts. She peered into the brightness. Her pulse suddenly jumped. She’d forgotten that the pool boy was due today.

“Buenos dias, Señora,” Carlos called, his arms full of hoses, bottles and brushes. “Sorry to disturb your work.”

“That’s all right,” she responded. “I was thinking of taking a break anyway.” Folding the laptop shut, she sat back in her chair and watched him go about his business. Her heartbeat remained elevated.

In fact, Carlos was hardly a boy. He was a stocky, powerfully built man in his thirties, with short-cropped, jet-black hair and cinnamon-colored skin that already shone with sweat. Lauren watched him wrestle with the equipment, his muscles bunching and shifting under his clothing. A tank top with his company’s logo clung to his broad chest. His snug jeans showed off his firm butt and corded thighs. A bright tattoo of a rose decorated one bare shoulder.

Moving with a jaguar’s grace, he set up the cleaning robot and started it roaming along the bottom, then went back for the long-handled surface skimmer. Focused and professional, he didn’t waste any effort. Every step of his routine was choreographed, with the goal of finishing this job as quickly as possible, so he could move on to the next.

Lauren must have seen Carlos dozens of times over the past three years. Why had she never noticed his vibrant masculinity? Today she couldn’t take her eyes off him. His burly strength took her breath away. Underneath her robe, her nipples knotted and her juices flowed. Should she take the safe route, slipping back into the house and revving up her vibrator? Or should she go for what she really wanted?

Anyone is fair game.

After all, if he wasn’t interested in what she had to offer, he could always refuse.

He’d finished his work and was gathering his equipment. “Carlos!” she called. Pushing her chair away from the table, she loosened the belt on her robe so that it hung half open. “Before you leave, I’ve got something for you.”

“Yes, Señora?” He set down his tools and strode over to her shady spot on the patio, wearing a slightly puzzled expression.

Now that he was closer, she caught a whiff of his musky sweat. The animal scent cranked her arousal even higher. Her pussy clenched as she imagined the size of the cock that might be hidden in those tight jeans.

“Just wanted to check whether we owe you anything,” she said, glancing at his blunt, brown fingers. She saw no sign of a wedding ring, though even if she had, that probably wouldn’t have stopped her.

“No, we’re all square. Señor Brant paid me last time I was here.” His eyes flicked to the generous expanse of skin bared by her open robe, then skittered away.

“Oh, okay. Glad to hear it. You’re so good at your job – we want to be sure you’re happy.” Lauren leaned forward, so that her garment gaped further. Carlos could hardly avoid looking at her generous tits and dark nipples.

“Oh – I’m very happy – what are you doing, Señora?” The Latin hunk’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped as Lauren pulled down his zipper in one swift, confident motion. Despite his expression of shock, she found he was already half-hard. He did not resist as she extricated his cock – at least as long and thick as she’d imagined – and stroked it as she might some skittish animal.

“As I said. Making sure you’re happy.” His rod was as toast-brown as the rest of him, smooth and firm, with a droplet or two of pre-cum clinging to the tip. She swirled her tongue over the taut bulb, gathering that delicious moisture. His low moan sang through her, amplifying her need. Without further preamble, she engulfed him, managing a good two-thirds of his tempting rod.

“Oh! Señora!”

She couldn’t tell whether his cry signaled protest or gratitude. His flesh swelled rapidly as she sucked, suggesting the latter. He was delicious, salty and hot. She ran her tongue up and down the silky skin, savoring the hardness underneath. This was going to feel so, so good buried in her cunt!

Tilting her head and relaxing her throat, she took him all the way to the root. With her nose buried in his kinky pubic hair, she found his scent was much stronger, almost making her swoon. She swallowed around the knob, working her muscles to stimulate him. Then she pulled back, her mouth a tight O around his shaft, and gazed up at him to gauge his reactions.

His eyes were screwed shut. His nostrils flared and his lips parted, his breath coming in little gasps. He threaded his fingers into her hair, but he didn’t grab her head or force his cock down into her mouth, seeming content to let her take the lead.

Delighted with his acquiescence, she deep-throated him again. As she suckled him, he started to thrust, in a slow, steady rhythm that gave her plenty of opportunity to appreciate his length and girth. Experimentally, she raked her teeth lightly across his taut skin. His pelvis jerked and tension rippled along his rod. Sensing he was close to coming, she released him from her mouth. Fully erect, his magnificent cock bobbed in front of her.

Lauren gave it an affectionate squeeze before shrugging off her robe and rising to her feet. “I’d dearly love to taste your cum,” she said, “but right now I want you inside me.” She hiked herself up onto the table and spread her legs, exposing the slick folds of her pussy. “That is, if you want that, too.”

His eyes met hers for one smoldering moment. Then he stepped between her thighs, lined up his cock with her slit, and in one powerful stroke drove it home. 

 

Get The Slut Strikes Back absolutely free. Go to Smashwords.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1031285

Click the purchase link, and enter the coupon code XB78S

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Steam Hop!

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Why not enjoy the flesh the gods have given you? – #HistoricalRomance #MulticulturalRomance #LGBTQ #MFRWsteam

Welcome to this month’s MFRW Steam Hop! Today I have an intense excerpt from my MMF historical erotic romance, Monsoon Fever. Hope you enjoy it!

Blurb

Why not enjoy the flesh that the gods have given you?

When a charismatic Indian lawyer arrives at their remote Assamese tea plantation, he tempts a married couple with forbidden carnal delights.

In the early years of their marriage, Priscilla and Jonathan eagerly indulged their physical desires, but now that passion has dwindled. Childlessness and the horrors of the Great War have taken a toll on their relationship. Though Priscilla still aches for Jon’s touch, he seems preoccupied with settling his father’s affairs in India, so they can sell the plantation they’ve inherited and return to England.

Anil Kumar served as solicitor to Jon’s father. Arriving unannounced, drenched by a monsoon deluge, he enchants both Priscilla and Jon with his beauty, poise and wisdom. In separate incidents, each of them succumbs to Anil's lustful attentions. Will the illicit cravings excited by the handsome Indian be the final stroke that destroys their marriage? Or the route to saving it?

Excerpt

The bathroom was simple, Asian-style, a tiled area with a drain rather than a tub. Lalida had left an ample supply of hot water, filling every bucket and ewer in the house. Cold water came directly from the rain-fed cistern on the roof.

Quickly, before she could think too much about what she was doing, Priscilla stripped off her clothes and kicked them into a corner. She grabbed one of the pitchers of hot water and poured it over her head. Dirt sluiced out of her hair in muddy rivulets and swirled down the drain. The warmth soothed her aching muscles but made her scratches and blisters sting. She picked up a bar of her precious English lavender soap and began smoothing the suds over her breasts and belly. She lingered over the task, savouring the silkiness of her own skin under her fingertips.

The two men watched her, transfixed. Jon’s mouth hung open as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing, but at the same time his trousers were distended by a huge erection. Anil’s lips were parted, his tongue-tip playing unconsciously at the corners. She could see that he was hungry to taste her. For long moments, though, neither man moved.

Her soapy hands slipped easily into the cleft between her thighs. It seemed so natural, to slide her slippery fingers along her folds and stroke the juicy bud of flesh that set her trembling. She had done this so many times; she knew instinctively the path to her own pleasure. No one had ever watched her, of course. Instead of inhibiting her, though, her audience stirred her to new peaks of excitement.

No longer was her self-pleasuring lonely and sterile. Now she was sharing it with the man—the men—that she loved and desired. As she climbed higher, she could see her own arousal reflected in their faces. Neither moved to expose his cock, not yet, but she knew that would happen soon.

She rubbed harder, plunging three fingers into her depths while vigorously thumbing her clit. With her other hand, she pinched her soapy nipples, sending sharp bolts of sensation straight to her sex. She moaned, closer every instant to her final release. With her eyes closed, she could still feel their lustful gaze, hear their harsh breathing.

All at once, Jon groaned. Priscilla’s eyes flew open. He had unbuttoned his trousers. His cock jutted out, pale as ivory, the helmet purple with blood. He gripped his length with both hands, jerking away desperately. A grimace distorted his sweet mouth; he seemed almost to be in pain.

He worked his cock faster and harder, his eyes never leaving her body. She picked up his rhythm, her fingers probing and twisting, her thumb mashing her clit against her pubic bone. She was close, and so was he. She squatted, opening her thighs wide and burying both hands in the slippery cavity between them. Jon groaned again at the sight of her lewd posture.

They were locked in a race toward completion, each urging the other on. Priscilla tottered on the brink, humping her hands, watching her husband ravage his beautiful blood-engorged cock. Energy whipped back and forth between them, circling, strengthening. Nothing existed but their two bodies, straining toward ecstasy.

A half-strangled cry from Anil drew their attention. He had freed his cock as well. He stroked the thick rod of tawny flesh gently, far from the desperation of climax, or so it seemed. Yet as they watched, his cock contracted, pulsed and sprayed viscous ribbons of cum all over his elegant brown fingers.

The sight was simultaneously beautiful and obscene. Priscilla ground herself against her hands, hurling her body into an orgasm that tore through her like a hurricane. Even as she quivered in the retreating gusts of pleasure, she heard Jon yell and saw him spewing his seed across the floor.

The next thing she knew, Jon was beside her, helping her to stand. He clutched her soapy form to his now-naked body and sealed her lips with his. Joy ballooned in her chest. It had been so long since she’d felt his decisive mouth or tasted his familiar flavour. She rubbed her breasts against him, smearing herself with his dirt. His rigid nipples poked at her chest. Below, she could feel his cock stiffening again, nudging into the gap between her thighs.

She opened her legs and tilted her pelvis toward him, inviting his entry. Then, all at once, a torrent of warm water poured down on their heads. They broke their kiss, sputtering in the surprise flood. Before they could respond, another bucketful drenched them.

“Anil!” Sputtering and laughing, Priscilla turned to find that the native was behind them. He too had shed his clothes. As she watched, he raised a pitcher and poured its contents over his own head.

The shower slicked his dark locks against his skull, emphasising the fine planes of his countenance. Rivulets coursed over his muscled shoulders and down his hairless chest. His skin looked oiled, cinnamon-hued and buttery smooth. Only in his groin did hair grow, in wild black tangles completely different from the golden fur at the base of Jonathan’s cock.

Priscilla’s palms itched with the need to caress that silky, dark skin, to mould Anil’s flat breasts and flick her thumbs across his chocolate-hued nipples. She saw herself kneeling in the puddle at his feet, swallowing his majestic penis. The urge to turn image into reality was overwhelming. Did she dare to act on her desire?

She glanced back at Jon. He too seemed transfixed by the sight of Anil’s glorious nakedness. His cock was fully erect once again. It twitched slightly, in rhythm perhaps with his racing pulse. His hands were clenched at his sides, but as Priscilla watched, he relaxed and began stroking himself. He swelled further.

She willed him to look away from Anil for a moment and to meet her gaze, with its unspoken question. He must have felt her thoughts. Their eyes locked, and for a moment Priscilla felt the old connection that they’d had at first, the sense that everything was understood. He nodded slightly, a half-smile playing on his lips.

 

Buy Links

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0994WZP4B

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0994WZP4B

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1093764

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/monsoon-fever-lisabet-sarai/1139827649?ean=2940164960315

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/monsoon-fever-a-multicultural-romance

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58554176-monsoon-fever

I hope you’ll visit the other authors turning on the steam today!

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She has never faced such a challenge – #BDSM #Menage #99Cents #MFRWsteam

For today’s MFRW Steam Hop, I’m treating you to a long, teasing excerpt from my multi-genre erotic romance Rajasthani Moon. I’m hoping I can tempt you to take advantage of my special, limited time offer – this full-length novel, normally $4.99, is currently only 99 cents! You’ll find buy links after the excerpt, as well as links to the other authors participating in today’s event.

Blurb

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.

When Rajasthan refuses to remit its taxes, the Queen calls on her most lethal and seductive secret agent, Cecily Harrowsmith. Cecily expects to have little difficulty persuading the rebellious Rajah to submit once more to the Empire. Instead, she is the one forced to submit – to endure unprecedented extremes of pleasure and pain.

Kidnapped by the ruler's half-brother Pratan and delivered into the hands of the handsome but depraved Rajah Amir, she soon finds herself fighting against her own lascivious nature as much as the schemes of her captors. Her sympathy for the moon-cursed wolf-man Pratan only complicates her situation. Cecily has never failed to complete an assignment, but now she risks betrayal by both her body and her heart.

 

Excerpt (R-rated)

“Kneel up. Let me look at you.”

Cecily tried to keep her gaze averted as she complied, though she was desperately tempted to see if the ruler was as handsome in the flesh as in his portrait.

His chuckle sent a shimmer through her, something like shame but hotter and sweeter. “Very nice indeed. If all of Queen Victoria’s minions were as delectable, we might be more willing to return to her fold.” He laughed again at his own pleasantry. “Guard—the shackles.”

One of the male attendants flanking the throne strode forward, holding two cuffs of embossed leather. A slender, silvery chain about a foot long trailed between them. In a few breaths, the restraints encircled her ankles, leaving her hobbled.

“Well, Miss Cecily Harrowsmith— Look at me, woman, don’t stare at your hands like some servant girl—what have you to say for yourself? Are you ready to confess? Do you admit you’ve infiltrated our realm to spy out our secrets and force us back under the thumb of your ambitious Queen?”

The Rajah leant forward in his chair, no more than half a dozen feet from her. A welcoming smile lit his clean-shaven face, but his eyes were black as coal and sharp as obsidian. Jet curls adorned his forehead, peeking out from under his turban of gold brocade, and jewel-studded ornaments stretched his earlobes. His sensitive mouth and smooth cheeks made him seem somehow softer than his brother—younger, fresher, less jaded. However, the intelligence she read in his gaze quickly dispelled any notion that she was dealing with a callow youth.

Cecily struggled to muster her thoughts in the face of such outrageous male beauty.

“Sir—ah… Your Highness, I must beg your pardon and ask for your indulgence. It’s true that I came to Rajasthan to discover how your country has managed since your ill-advised refusal to share your revenues with the Crown. Her Majesty was concerned that without a steady supply of viridium, your people might well be suffering.”

Amir burst into a merry laugh. “The Queen is concerned about us poor Rajasthanis, is she? Well, as you can see, we are not suffering in the least. You can report back that her concern is misplaced. Better she should be concerned for your well-being, my lady spy.”

Cecily remained silent, suspecting that the clever Rajah would twist her words regardless of her excuses.

Amir rose from his throne and stepped forward, until he loomed over her kneeling figure.

“You may know that Rajasthanis are renowned for their ferocity. The traditional punishment for espionage or treason involves a distinctly unpleasant combination of branding, disembowelling, then being left out in the desert to die.” He cupped her chin and raised her eyes to his. “It would be a pity to subject such a delicious creature to that sort of…indignity—but still, there’s no question that you deserve it, is there?”

His smile grew broader but his eyes remained hard.

She swallowed her rising terror, striving for a rational, conciliatory tone. “Please, Your Highness—I’m not a spy, merely the Empire’s envoy. The Queen sent me to reopen diplomatic relations. She would like to re-establish contacts with Rajasthan, a connection between equals…”

“Really? If you’re on an official diplomatic mission, why were you travelling in disguise?”

“As you note, sir, your countrymen are known for their violence and lawlessness. A woman openly journeying as Her Majesty’s representative would be especially vulnerable to attack by brigands and highwaymen—” Cecily stopped short, overwhelmed suddenly by memories of her time with Pratan. Her nipples knotted under the thin fabric of her bodice and moisture painted her thighs. Once again embarrassment heated her face. She tried to tear her eyes from the Rajah’s but he would not allow it.

He shook his head. “I really don’t know what I should do with you.” He flipped the gauzy train of her sari off her shoulder, exposing the swollen nubs that strained the fabric of her top. “Though I imagine I’ll think of something.”

For an instant she expected him to reach for her brazenly erect nips, to pinch or twist them. She knew he’d be cruel. A shudder of anticipation raced through her. She sucked in her breath, expecting—no, craving—the debasement.

He didn’t touch her. Instead, he favoured her with an ironic grin and settled back into his chair. “Sit here, then.” He indicated a nest of pillows piled to one side of the throne. “For now, I shall pretend that you’re telling the truth, Cecily, and treat you as the honoured representative of a foreign monarch.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Cecily released the breath she’d been holding. A bit awkward, she crawled past Amir’s feet to curl up among the cushions, her legs tucked under her. The silver chain tangled in her sari. As she tried to remedy this, she gave it a quick tug to test its strength. The delicacy of the chain was misleading. It seemed as unyielding as the robotic bonds Pratan had employed.

“The festival will begin as soon as the crescent moon rises above the palace walls.” He favoured her with another brilliant smile, his eyes softer now. “It’s quite a spectacle.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” she answered, since he seemed to expect a reply. Leaning a bit closer, close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his silk-clad form, she lowered her voice and loaded it with honey. “But, sir—is it really necessary that I be shackled like some common criminal? After all the effort I made to get to Rajasthan, to obtain an audience with Your Highness, do you really think it’s likely I would flee?”

“I don’t plan to give you the opportunity, my lovely. In any case, I like seeing you in chains. They suit you.” And now he did touch her, flicking a jewelled finger across one of her still-taut nipples.

A blade of pleasure sliced through her. She couldn’t control her gasp.

“You’ll find that’s one of the many things my brother and I have in common—a fondness for rendering beautiful women helpless.”

As if conjured by the Rajah’s words, a door swung open behind the thrones—Cecily could see now that, although the canopy was temporary, the tiered viewing platform was built into the wall—and Pratan stepped onto the platform.

“Amir! I see that you’ve already made Miss Harrowsmith’s acquaintance, Your Highness.” Apparently heedless of royal protocol, the bandit prince bestowed an enthusiastic hug on his brother. “Be careful. She’s a caged tiger. Good evening, Cecily.”

Pratan crouched in front of Cecily and, without the slightest warning, took possession her breasts, fondling and squeezing them like ripe melons.

“I— You—Release me this instant, you—” Cecily sputtered, fighting the arousal that flooded her. “How dare you?” she added when he didn’t obey, only too aware of the contradictions between her words and her reactions. She gripped his arms, trying to tear his hands from her hungry flesh and noticing despite herself the way his biceps flexed under his satin tunic. He simply ignored her, crushing her aching nipples in his palms. One hand traced the line of her hips then wandered across her belly, finally coming to rest near the juncture of her thighs. All the while, he held her eyes—challenging her to deny her irrepressible lust.

Amir could scarcely contain his laughter. “Ah, brother, clearly you know our guest far more intimately than I do. But I plan to remedy that soon.”

Pratan cupped Cecily’s pubis for a moment longer. He teased a finger back and forth along the damp fabric covering her cleft before he rose to seat himself beside his brother. Cecily choked down her cry of frustration. “You’ll find it well worth your while, Amir-ji, but don’t let down your guard.”

 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

Kobo - https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/rajasthani-moon-steampunk-shifter-bdsm-romance

Apple Books -

https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1582490320

Add on Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58835067-rajasthani-moon

I hope you'll take a few minutes to check out the other steamy excerpts featured today!

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Let me help ease your pain ... #MMEroticRomance #Paranormal #Giveaway #MFRWsteam

 

For today’s MFRW Steam Hop, I am sharing a scene from my MM paranormal erotic romance At the Margins of Madness: A Tale of Power and Love. If you like it, leave me a comment. I’m giving away a free copy of this full-length novel to a randomly-selected commenter.

 

Both power and love can lead to madness

Nineteen year old Kyle sees visions of disasters, visions that tear his world apart. Everyone assumes that he is schizophrenic, but Rob, the cop who picks him up off the street, knows better.

Rob's own experience has taught him that psychic powers are real, and potentially devastating. Since his telepathic sister's brutal murder, Rob wants nothing to do with "gifted" individuals like Kyle. Yet he can't deny his attraction to the beautiful, tortured young man – an attraction that appears to be mutual.

When a brilliant, sadistic practitioner of the black arts lures Kyle into his clutches, Rob faces the possibility that once again he may lose the person he loves most to the forces of darkness.

Steamy Excerpt

Kyle and Rob sat across from one another in the booth at Eduardo’s Cantina. Empty plates smeared with refried beans and salsa littered the rough wooden table. With one blunt-fingered hand, Rob crushed fragments of left-over tortilla chips to yellow crumbs. He wouldn’t meet Kyle’s eyes. Kyle reached for his nervous hand and brought it to his lips. He licked the greasy, salty valleys between Rob’s fingers. Rob’s cheeks flushed red. Kyle’s balls tightened inside his jeans.

“Tell me,” he ordered. “You can trust me, Rob.”

Rob’s eyes were deep wells of pain. “My little sister Mary,” he began. “She was like you.”

Kyle listened to the story of Mary’s trials and her murder. He felt a physical ache as the other man finally shared his anger and grief. No wonder Rob had panicked. Such a sad, tortured life the woman had endured, and such a horrible death. Kyle had believed in Rob’s public face, the strong, self-confident, uncomplicated cop. Now, he saw how vulnerable his new lover really was.

“Maybe I can help,” Kyle offered as Rob concluded his tale. “Maybe I can see something that will give you a clue.”

“But you only see the future, not the past.” Rob extricated his hand from Kyle’s grasp and brushed his hair back from his forehead with a sigh. “How can you help?”

“Perhaps whoever killed her will try to kill again.” Kyle remembered the blond man from his last prescient attack and shuddered. Could there be a link? There had been some talk of cutting out his heart, though Kyle had been so bemused by lust he’d hardly noticed.

“I really don’t want anything more to do with psychic powers,” Rob muttered.

“But you want me, don’t you?” Kyle reached under the table and stroked Rob’s thigh. The man across from him started, then grinned.

“Yeah, I do. Heaven help me, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

“Well, then take me. And let me help ease your pain.” Kyle couldn’t reach Rob’s cock, but he could feel the heat coming from the man’s erection. His own trousers became tighter by the minute. “Or at least help you forget it for a while.”

Kyle found it difficult to walk out of the restaurant with his groin so swollen. Rob unlocked the passenger-side door of the Toyota sedan. Kyle slipped inside. As soon as Rob had settled into the driver’s seat, Kyle was on him, his tongue deep in Rob’s mouth and his hand on Rob’s zipper. The cop tasted of jalapeños and beer. Kyle nipped at Rob’s thin lips as he struggled to extricate the cock bulging inside Rob’s uniform.

“Wait!” Rob gasped when Kyle let him come up for air. “Someone will see.” The parking lot behind the restaurant was pretty dark, but headlights swept by on the side road every few minutes.

“I don’t care.” Kyle gripped Rob’s shaft in one hand, cupping the slippery head in the other. Rob groaned. Kyle bent over and slathered the knob with saliva. Rob’s hips bucked. Kyle captured the bulb between pursed lips. He sucked for a moment, then swirled his tongue over the taut skin at the tip, flicking at the sensitive underside. “I’ve got to have your cock.” He reached into Rob’s trousers and cradled the other man’s hairy balls. “If anyone interrupts us, you can tell them that I’m crazy and I forced you.”

Rob’s laugh turned to a moan as Kyle swallowed the whole rod, taking it deep into his throat. Kyle let Rob appreciate the heat and wetness for an instant, then turned on the suction, bobbing his head up and down in Rob’s lap. His mouth locked on Rob’s flesh. He loved the way the silky skin stretched impossibly tight over the hardness at Rob’s core. He tongued the little ridge under the cap. He loved the way Rob shivered and slammed his dick against Kyle’s palate in response.

“Oh, Kyle…” Rob arched into Kyle’s mouth, all resistance apparently forgotten. Kyle sucked harder, reveling at the tension he sensed growing in the rigid stalk. He craved more, more of Rob’s succulent flesh. He wriggled his hands under Rob’s waistband and into his shorts, grabbing two handfuls of the other man’s butt. He felt Rob’s gluteal muscles contract under his palms as the cop ground his pelvis against Kyle’s jaw.

Rob grunted and surged forward, taking control. Kyle let his mouth go slack, overwhelmed by the man’s physicality. His own aching cock pressed against his zipper, screaming for release, but Kyle wanted to concentrate on Rob. This was more than a blow job; this was his chance to show Rob how much Kyle wanted him—and how much pleasure Kyle could provide, if only Rob would allow it. He kneaded the cop’s furry ass, inching his fingers closer to the crack.

Rob’s skin inside his trousers grew slick with sweat as he continued to hammer away at Kyle’s mouth. Saliva leaked from Kyle’s lips. Rob’s scent was all around him, rising from the coarse blond hair tickling his nose. Kyle slid one finger into the slippery crevice between the man’s butt cheeks and found the whorl of muscle hidden there. He pressed against the clenched entrance. Rob wailed and pushed himself farther down Kyle’s throat. Kyle worked a fingertip into the tight hole. The cock in his mouth shuddered, convulsed and spat gobs of bitter fluid onto his tongue.

Kyle swallowed triumphantly. Rob raised him up and pulled him into a fiery kiss that mingled the flavors of semen and salsa. Kyle’s hard-on pulsed in his jeans, a whisper away from climax. “Oh, Kyle baby,” the older man murmured, nibbling at the corners of Kyle’s battered mouth. “That was incredible. Nobody’s ever done me like that.” He licked a droplet of cum from Kyle’s chin, then continued, trailing his tongue along Kyle’s jaw then down to the hollow of his throat. Electric pleasure shot through Kyle’s trembling limbs. His cock trembled. “I can’t believe… I almost lost you…oh, Kyle!”

Rob held him tight, burying his face in the crook of Kyle’s neck. There was new wetness, not from Rob’s tongue but from his tears.

* * * *

You can buy At the Margins of Madness from your favorite bookseller, in ebook or audio form. Or leave me a comment. You might get lucky!

Buy Links

Kinky Literature: https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/917-at-the-margins-of-madness-a-tale-of-power-and-love/

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/B09QQG683R/

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/B09QQG683R

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/at-the-margins-of-madness-lisabet-sarai/1140911192?ean=2940165754531

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1127718

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/at-the-margins-of-madness-a-tale-of-power-and-love

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1606236845

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60179575-at-the-margins-of-madness

Audio Book

https://www.amazon.com/At-Margins-Madness-Tale-Power/dp/B09ZZTXJ3M/

https://www.audible.com/pd/At-the-Margins-of-Madness-Audiobook/B0B113TQNW

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