Happy
Sunday!
Today
I’m giving you a long, torrid excerpt from my recent novel The
Heart of the Deal: Business, Bondage, Discipline and Desire. I
hope you enjoy it!
Blurb
All's
fair
in
lust
and
business
Ruby
Maxwell
Chen,
the lovely
and
ruthless
CEO
of
a
sprawling British
business
empire,
has no qualms about playing dirty – very dirty. She’s happy to
use sex to help her close a deal, especially when she’s the one on
top. Ruby loves the game, and she expects to win. When
she
encounters
the
inexplicably charismatic
American
entrepreneur
Rick
Martell,
though,
she
wonders
if
she
hasn't
finally
met
her
match.
From the trendy clubs of London to the Hollywood Hills, Ruby and Rick compete for ownership of a strategic factory in Malaysia. As their struggle for dominance escalates and their mutual lust flares, they draw their employees and associates into their outrageous power games. The stakes could scarcely be higher, as Ruby and Rick play for the ultimate prize: a night of total physical surrender.
From the trendy clubs of London to the Hollywood Hills, Ruby and Rick compete for ownership of a strategic factory in Malaysia. As their struggle for dominance escalates and their mutual lust flares, they draw their employees and associates into their outrageous power games. The stakes could scarcely be higher, as Ruby and Rick play for the ultimate prize: a night of total physical surrender.
Excerpt
[This
is Ruby’s personal assistant, Margaret Southington, speaking.]
I’ve
only been in Los Angeles once before, on a trip with Liu two years
ago. My primary recollection of the city was how spread out
everything was. That and the scene Liu and I had played the night
before we returned to England.
We'd
been staying in Bel Air. The exclusive hotel featured stucco
bungalows scattered through a garden of palms and succulents. Plush
and extremely private. “This is perfect,” murmured Liu as he
nuzzled my ear. “No one will hear your screams.”
I
laughed at that, a bit nervously, and glanced back at him. He was
totally serious.
“Go
into the living room. Take off your clothes. Stand in the middle of
the room facing the windows and wait for me.”
My
heart pounding, I obeyed him, as I always did. I trusted him
completely, knew that any path he set me on would ultimately lead to
pleasure. I could feel the rich pile of the carpet between my toes as
I waited. It seemed a long time. Through the open window, I could
smell the vegetation and hear the twitter of night birds. Something,
a moth perhaps, slammed against the window screen and startled me.
Then there was another sound, behind me. Liu had joined me at last.
I
turned around to see a stranger instead of my beloved Liu. The man
wore tight leather pants, a black spandex singlet, leather gloves,
and a leather mask that hid his entire face. The eye holes and mouth
were ringed with blood-red. He carried a black gym bag that I had
never seen before. He set it on the rug in front of me, and then he
circled my body, appraising me. He moved with an arrogant swagger
that was totally different from Liu’s normal manner.
I
didn’t dare move; I held my breath. My nipples tightened into hot,
painful nubs under the man’s silent scrutiny. He reached out and
strummed at one with a gloved finger. I winced, and he gave a low,
ominous chuckle.
“Los
Angeles always brings out the sadist in me,” he said softly. I
recognized the voice; it was Liu, and yet it was not. There was an
unfamiliar edge there. He rummaged in the bag and retrieved a coiled
thong of leather, perhaps half an inch wide.
“Give
me your hands. Wrists together.” A shiver ran through me. He had
never bound me with anything rougher than a silk scarf. Nevertheless,
I followed his instructions.
He
looped the strip of leather several times around my joined hands,
then wound it between them, tightening the grip on my flesh. The
other end of the thong curled on the floor for a moment, while he
fetched a chair from the dining area. Standing on the chair, he
threaded the free end of the thong through a shiny loop embedded in
the ceiling and then back down toward me. “Raise your arms above
your head,” he ordered, and as I did so, he took up the slack, so
that I could not lower them even if I wished to.
He
tied the free end loosely to the chair and went back to his bag. When
he returned, he carried a studded belt adorned with steel rings. As
he buckled it around my waist, his gloves brushed against my skin.
Lust surged in me. I was weak with desire for him, craving more of
his touch. As if reading my mind, he slapped my buttocks, hard, with
those leather-clad hands.
“How’s
that?” he asked, softly mocking. “Do you want more?” I stood
there silent, blushing, dripping.
With
the belt in place, my tormentor untied the thong from the chair. He
ran the end down from the ceiling, between my breasts, and through a
ring centered just above my navel. “Spread your legs,” he
commanded. When I did so, he slipped the leather between them,
pulling it tightly into the cleft of my sex, and then up between my
butt cheeks.
I
thought I would faint. The rough edges bit into my delicate tissues,
irritating and inflaming them.
The
slightest movement brought torture. I felt his hands near the small
of my back, slipping the leather through another loop in the belt. He
gave a jerk, pulling the cord still tighter, then somehow fastened it
so that it stayed taut.
I
was split open by my bonds. In front, the thong grazed my clit and
rasped against my inner lips. In back, I could feel its pressure
against my anus, more subtle but equally arousing. I moaned,
wondering if I could stand the overwhelming sensation.
The
bonds were just the beginning, though. “Are you comfortable, pet?”
Liu asked, stroking my hair back from my face. Of course not, I
wanted to scream, my shoulders ache, my hands are going numb, my clit
is so sore that I won’t be able to close my legs tomorrow. But all
these discomforts were overshadowed by the shimmering of my orgasm,
off in the distance. And even that paled to insignificance compared
to the knowledge that I pleased him.
From
the bag, Liu extracted a vicious-looking strap. He snapped it once or
twice through the air. I looked on in fascination and terror. I was
afraid of the pain, but even more afraid of disappointing him. Still,
I gasped as the first stinging blow landed on my rear, and writhed
against my bonds in a futile attempt at escape.
That
one convulsion was all it took to send me over, the first time. The
thong wedged against my clit had done its work. Liu did not stop
beating me, though. The strap sliced across my flesh, again and
again. Strands of fire raced along all my limbs, met and flared in
the depths of my sex. The swollen tissues between my thighs were as
hot and raw as my buttocks, both tortured and teased by the kiss of
leather.
I
don’t know how long he worked on me. I had never known him to be so
fierce, but I didn’t want him to stop. I was floating in a crimson
haze, breathing in time with his savage strokes. I forgot myself,
thinking only of him, basking in the intensity of his desire. I
forgot to notice when, or whether, I climaxed. There was only Liu,
his energy and will, his pleasure. That was the only thing that
mattered.
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