Showing posts with label spanking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spanking. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 01, 2011

MELT THE ICE

FINNISH FANTASIES
ISBN 13: 978-1-60272-572-0
Amber Quill Press - Amber Heat



BUY LINK

BLURB:
Being Maid of Honor in Finland over Midsummer’s Eve is supposed to be fun, but for jingle writer Kate Adams it’s a nightmare. Things go from bad to worse when her high-priced rental car dies on an endless ribbon of bone-dry country road. Help arrives in the form of a delicious-looking, blue-collar local who just might make it all worthwhile.

Rurik Jaacko knows better than to stop for the princess perched on the hood of a Mercedes. Hot women and expensive cars are trouble, but he’s a sucker for any damsel in distress. The last thing he expects is to play bellhop to the sensual American, and love every sizzling moment.

A rustic pig farm and a friend who isn’t combine with deception to create the backdrop for earthy passion and international fraud...

EXCERPT:
...With his hard-on raging, Rurik watched her nipples harden and peak through the thin knit shirt and wondered if was their heated exchange that excited her, or the fact he had taken control.

Women want to be dominated.

“There are times a man must take a stand with an unruly woman.” He caught her wrist and tugged her closer.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Color drained from her cheeks, but was that a sparkle in her eyes?

He stopped for a moment and thought about the consequences of his action. Either it would be a beautiful success or Kate would pack her bags right after she rang the police.

“Yes, today I would.” He dropped onto a birch stump and, with a quick yank, upended her over his knees. Her perfect ass across his lap was too tempting to stop.

“You’d better stop before it’s too late, buddy.” She turned her head and shot him a glare that could melt steel.

“It already is.” His palm came down with a resounding smack.

“Ouch.” She kicked her legs and wrestled beneath him.

He laid an arm over her shoulders to keep her in place, praying he had made the right decision.

“Rurik, you are so going to pay for this,” she wailed, startling the birds from the trees.

And he knew he would, right after he laid another open-palm swat on her firm ass.

Whack.

She yelped at the contact, and he loved it. He may have been wrong about her being a spoiled, over-privileged woman, but a good spanking seemed in order to assert his authority. But then again, he had better run like hell when he finally let her up because she was going to murder him.

His hand came down again, not quite as hard, and lingered on her sexy rear, petting away the sting. He ran his fingers along the curve of her cheeks hidden under the tight denim shorts, wondering what his handprint would look like on her milky flesh. A stirring below his belt pressed against his fly, forcing him to shift unsuccessfully under her weight.

She wiggled against his cock, enhancing his torture, and he could not stifle the groan.

“Are you through beating me into submission?” Her words came out breathlessly, reminding him of how her lips had purred against his balls the night before.

“No. I do not think so.” His hand smacked solid on her ass, pleased with her shriek.

He grazed a finger under the ragged edge of her shorts, inching up the inside of her thigh, seeking the heat beneath her damp thong. He hooked the lacey strap and tugged, drawing it tight against her swollen labia, released it and yanked up again. Her soft gasp carried to him on a gentle breeze.

The scent of her arousal drifted up, encouraging him to please her. He glided closer to her folds, teasing along the way with light pinches to her flesh. His finger slipped inside and he smiled, pleased by her wetness. Her pussy flexed against him, clenching—relaxing, milking him, like her mouth had done to his cock.

“I think you like this, Kate.” He knew he did.

A whimper rose up like a caress, her hair tumbling free as she nodded.

He pulled out, then slid back in with two fingers, pressing firmer against her wall.

“Should I continue your torture or”— he continued massaging up and down, until she bucked against him. —“take you into the house and fuck you fast and hard?”

A soft gurgle washed her words away and his balls tightened...

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Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com

Monday, May 24, 2010

IT'S HERE! IT'S HOT!

Announcing...my new release FRENCH TWIST. Don't you love the cover? Tuesday Dube did a great job of capturing the story's essence.

FRENCH TWIST
Sloane Taylor
ISBN 978-1-60168-293-2
Aspen Mountain Press

WARNING: EROTICA WITH SPANKING



Here's an excerpt to entice you. :)

BLURB:
Interpol agent Claudette D’Laquois is on the run. Dull Uncle Paul and his rundown chateau in Nice, France are her only safe haven…but she never planned on the delectable estate manager who is even more dangerous than the Russian mob boss who wants her dead.

Three weeks of overseeing operations at his friend’s orchard seems like the ideal vacation to CPA Don Hobbs. And so it was—until a French sex goddess pulls him into a world of drugs, intrigue, and erotic fantasy.

EXCERPT:
The throbbing burst into her head again. She rubbed her temples. “S’il vous plait, do not make this more difficult.”

“Hey, I get it. You’re this tough woman who can handle herself in any kind of danger. But, you need to look at it from my point of view.” He stepped behind her and massaged her shoulders, edging up to her neck.

Instant relief.

She sighed with each knead that worked free the stress knots.

“Let’s just say this Cesar doesn’t come alone. You ever figure he’s not a good guy?” Sarcasm streamed with each word.

“I know him.” She shrugged off his hands and turned, her fists balled tight. “You do not.”

“I’m not stupid and I do know a bunch of bullshit when I hear it.” His words bounced off the walls. “You think this fucker is your long-lost savior. Not hardly likely, chickee, if he bailed on a high profile government job and left you to the wolves.” He squinted at her, a vein pulsed along his forehead. “Was your commander right? Did you and James Fuckingbond have a couple of rolls in the sack and now you think he’s gonna be the righteous man of the hour? Is that all it takes with you? A fast fuck and a couple of swats on the ass to make you bend over and suck mud?”

“You dare to speak to me this way?” Red flashed before her eyes. “One afternoon of sex and you think you own me? Know what my life is like? How it should be orchestrated? You assume the right to be my master?” Meeting him decibel for decibel, she yelled, “You are an idiot!”

She swung out her hand, ready to slap his face. Hard.

With an expression cold and fierce, he leaned into her.

“Don’t do it. Don’t do one fucking thing you don’t want done back to you.” He stood his ground, fists planted on his hips. “I’m a nice guy. A fucking gentleman until someone, and I don’t care if she is a broad, muscles me. You got that? Loud and clear? Has it sunk you’re your brain? I will not—”

Wap.

A low growl came from deep in his chest. In slow motion, he rubbed his cheek along her red imprint, eyes narrowed to slits. “That’s it, baby, party’s over.”

He grabbed her wrist and spun her around, flopped onto the bed, and yanked her over his knee.

Rip.

Her cotton skirt shredded like tissue as he yanked it up over her ass, exposing her boy shorts.

“I told you before you needed a good spanking and the time’s come.” The satin panties were ripped away.

Whack.

His hand cracked down on her firm rear. The sting raced across her flesh, charging heat to her clit.

“Ow!” She struggled to get free, flailing her legs and arms, but his free hand pressed across her back, holding her in place. “You will pay for this, you le fils d'une chienne.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will, but not as much as you. And I’m not a son of a bitch. My mother is a nice woman.”

Whack.

“Nice girls don’t talk like that either.”

Whack. Whack.

“Donald, stop before it is—”

Whack.

“Too late? Too bad. Already is and I don’t give a shit.”

Whack. Whack.

His rigid penis pressed into her abdomen and dampness pooled in her panties. Pressure built between her thighs, increasing with each smack. She arched into him, loving it. Wanting this from the day they met.

Dieu, at this moment, he was her master. She wanted to be his equal, but not right now. Now, she wanted him to take control, had to know his brute force, needed him.

His hand slowed, then rested on her tingling flesh. He traced her butt cheek, edging closer to her perineum. She opened her thighs, praying he would slip between them.
He glided a finger along the crease, then dipped lower and stroked her swollen nether lips. Up and down, down and up, and she loved every stroke.

Cream seeped from her and her body begged for release. She no longer held back the moans.

“Had enough?” His words came out thick.

BUY LINK

I'll be back later this week. Until then...

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com