Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Come Back to Me

I feel a kiss as soft as butterfly wings against the side of my face.
“I’m right here, dearest.”
A gentle hand strokes my hair soothingly.
“Yes, my love.”
The firm mattress dips under someone’s weight and then arms wrap themselves tightly around me.
I know that I’m dreaming.
I don’t want to wake up, but I force my eyes open—better to break the enchantment, than to enjoy it for too long and be devastated on waking.
The heavy drapes which I had left open are now closed.
Night has just fallen and the room’s in darkness, but it’s light enough for me to recognize the familiar face with its solemn grey eyes inches away from mine.
I reach out hesitantly to touch his face, knowing that my hand with touch only thin air.
He smiles as it connects to warm skin.
I should have been shocked, or even a little scared, but it’s what I had hoped for, prayed for.

“Yes, sweetheart.”
“This can’t be real!”
“It’s as real as you make it, my love.”
I know I’m dreaming, but it’s the most wondrous dream and I don’t want it to end.
“Please don’t leave me,” I beg, now afraid to close my eyes.
“I’ll be here for as long as you need me,” he promises.
“I want you to stay forever,” I demand fiercely.
“Forever is a long time,” he chides gently.  I hear the smile in his voice.  “But I promise that I’ll never leave you unless you grow tired of me.”
“I’ll never get tired of you,” I vow.  “Kiss me so that I know you’re real.  Make love to me.”
He moves his head closer and covers my lips with his.
My first ever kiss!
Then his tongue presses softly against my lips and I open them.  His tongue touches mine and I feel an electric tingle run through my body.
I had worried that I won’t know what to do when the time came, but Christopher seems to know enough about kissing for both of us.
His tongue forces itself deeper into my mouth and I marvel at his aggression.
Somehow, I’d thought that he would kiss gently and with no tongue.
I feel his hand at my neck and then the zip at the back of my dress slides slowly downwards.  He unhooks my bra and then gently urges me onto my back.  I lift my arms obediently so that he could free them from the elbow-length sleeves of my thick woollen dress.  Warm hands briefly cup my breasts and I realize that my bra has miraculously disappeared with the dress.
“It’s cold in here.  Let me undress you fully and get you under the covers.”
I lift my hips and allow him to slip my panties down my legs and off.  Then his warm body covers mine and a duvet is tucked into place around us.
He kisses me again as his fingers start to roll my nipples firmly, creating a delicious ache between my thighs.  I can’t help myself squirming shamelessly against him as the rolling goes on and on.
How can this feel so familiar?
I know it can’t be.
I had longed for it, even dreamt of it on occasion, but it had never happened.
Christopher breaks the kiss and his lips make their way over my skin, nibbling as they go along until they reach my left nipple.
I gasp as it’s enclosed in a wet, hungry mouth.
The pull of his lips is maddening.
When I feel a touch on my thigh, I immediately open my legs wider needing something to soothe the ache deep inside that his suckling lips are creating.
A long finger slides inside me as a thumb slowly massages my clitoris.
My parents and grandparents had been devout Christians and though I had lost my faith when the tsunami had claimed the live of my parents and siblings, certain Bible teachings had stayed with me. I’d never masturbated or touched any part of my body in a sexual way until Christopher had died and I’d finally thought that life meant to rob me of every bit of joy.
I’ve only touched myself on the outside, though.
Christopher’s finger inside me feels wonderful.
And I feel something building within me.
Feel myself reaching the pinnacle that had stayed just out of my reach when I’d touched myself.
The feeling intensifies and I hold onto Christopher’s broad shoulders, widening the sprawl of my legs, begging him to press deeper.
“Ah!  Ah!  Yes!”
His finger inside me slowly filling me with pleasure is like a balloon being slowly filled with air.  I hover for a moment full to the brim and then I explode.
“Good girl,” Christopher says and holds me tenderly while I float away on a sea of pleasure.
“Did you just make me come?” I whisper against his throat, glad that the room is dark enough to cover my blush.
“How is that even possible?” I ask incredulously.
It’s a dream, but it feels so wonderfully real.
And why stop now?
“Make love to me,” I plead again.
“I have to confess something first.”
“What?” I demand as he hesitates.
I really didn’t care if he’d murdered someone or done something equally terrible.
That’s no longer important.
Not now.
All I know is that somehow, miraculously, he’s here with me and that’s all that matters.

Friday, April 29, 2016

My Dad's Boss 2

I felt a soft touch on the side of my face and had to resist the urge to turn so that my chin was cradled in his palm.  When he moved his hand back to the steering wheel, I finally turned my head and stared his perfect profile.

“You look incredible, Victoria.”

“Thank you,” I replied.  “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Really?” he replied, sounding surprised.  “These three years have been torture.”

“It was torture of your own making,” I reminded him, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of my voice.  Hoping that he hadn’t noticed, I continued flippantly, “I had so much fun, the years literally flew by.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” he replied, the words barely escaping his tight lips.  “Fucking every straight male student on campus, it seems like.  Well, it’s my turn to have some fun now.”

A delicious shiver ran through me and my panties got wetter as I recalled the things he threatened last night that he would do to me when we got to his house.

“Spread your beautiful thighs for me,” he instructed as if he sensed that I couldn’t wait another twenty minutes or so until we got to his home.

“No,” I replied stubbornly.

I didn’t want him to see how wet I was, doing nothing more than just sitting there close to him and inhaling his masculine scent.

“Spread them, and move aside your panties, if you’re wearing any,” he ordered.  “I’m going to fuck you hard when we get to the house.  I don’t have time to prepare you when we get there.”

I really should object to him thinking that he could just command me and I will obey, I thought as I moved my thong aside and tilted my hips upwards.  But it’s been three years since I’ve been penetrated, though I’ve masturbated plenty, and his cock isn’t exactly small.

He took his sweet time, first caressing the front of my thigh, then moving inwards and finally upwards.

“You’re soaking wet,” he said, using his fingers to press and circle my clit and produce even more moisture.  “Were you thinking of me all the way here?  Or were you sitting next to some randy young man who fingered you for the entire flight?”

“It was an old man actually,” I replied, just to see his reaction.  “He must have been almost seventy and very distinguished looking.  He had large hands and very wicked fingers.”

Though I was sure he didn’t believe my outrageous story, I watched as a muscle started to jump in his clenched jaw.

“Wider,” he commanded and pressed two long fingers deep inside me, pushing past the resistance of my pussy.  He groaned as he started to work them back and forth.  “So wet and still so tight.  It’s going to take some time to break this pussy.”

“Break it?”  I didn’t like the sound of that!

“I took it easy on you three years ago because you were eighteen…still a baby, but now you’re a woman you’ll have to take me from every angle and in every hole,” he warned.  “You will also have to take my fist.”

Thursday, February 11, 2016

The Billionaire's Dirty Little Secret (A Stepbrother Romance Short)

I stood at the gates and stared at the 9-bedroom detached house in front of me for a long time, my bags containing everything I own on the ground at my feet.  And when I say ‘everything I own’ I mean just that.  My entire life and possessions fit into one bag.  I’d learnt not to get too attached to anything at the age of seven when my mother and I had run from my father before dawn one morning with nothing except the clothes on our backs.  I’d had to leave the precious, beautiful dolls my beloved maternal grandmother had passed down to me.  It was a tough lesson, but it taught me to never get attached or hold on to anything that could be lost, stolen, taken away or left behind.

I continued to stare at the ridiculously large house, as if my intense stare could somehow make it shrink or disappear.  I’d lived in the small, comfortable 2-bedroom adjoining staff house from the ages of seven to nineteen, but now the sprawling main house was my home.

All of it.

I didn’t own it, but I was free to do pretty much what I wanted to do in it.

I could sit on the plush chairs in the grand living room.

I could walk into the kitchen and take whatever I wanted.  Or better still, call down and have a maid bring it up to me.

I could start the day with a leisurely swim in the Olympic-sized pool or work out in the state-of-the-art gym and have a sauna afterwards.

I could go for long walks in the extensive gardens.

I could drive any of the 10 classic cars in the garage.

I could watch the latest blockbuster in the cinema room.

I could do all of the above.

But all I wanted to do was turn around and run as far away as possible.

I heard the purr of an approaching car.

Too late!


I listened as the engine was killed and the car door slammed, before I slowly turned around to face him.

Jake Bickerstaff.

Still the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on.  He’d inherited his father’s amber eyes, but while his father’s were smiling, dreamy artist’s eyes, Jake’s were sharp like an eagle’s.  Except for when we’d made love.  His dark hair could have come from either side of his family tree, but I suspected that it was from his mother’s.  The glossy strands hinted at her distant Indian ancestry.  Four years ago it had been boyishly long and those strands had softly caressed my naked body when he had kissed me all over.  His mouth…oh God, his mouth…looked angelic, the only part of him that did, but it was deliciously wicked.  I still blush when I think of the things he could do with his sinful tongue.

And from the first time he kissed me I knew that there would be no one else for me.

That’s why he was still my first and only lover.

Still my heartbreaker.

“What the hell are you playing at?”  He was spitting nails as he came to stand and glare down at me.  “I drove up to get you only to be told that you’d left already.”

“I didn’t know that you’d planned to come and get me.”

Even if I had known, it wouldn’t have mattered.  I wouldn’t have wanted to spend a whole hour and a half in a car alone with him all the way from Oxford to Hampstead.

“I was worried sick.”  He took hold of my upper arms as though to convince himself that I wasn’t a mirage and then he gave me a little shake.  “Why didn’t you answer your mobile?”

“I didn’t hear it ringing.”  I’d deliberately muted it, knowing that he might call and offer me a ride.

“Get in,” he ordered, letting me go and grabbing my bags.

I watched as he threw them unceremoniously onto the back seat of the convertible Rolls Royce Phantom.

“I can walk from here,” I said and turned back to the gate.

The space in the car wasn’t as confined as his Lamborghini’s and with the top down I had nothing to fear, but it was still closer to him than I wanted to be.

“Get in!”

He was bastard enough to throw me in bodily and Security was probably watching the cameras, wondering what was going on between us.

I reluctantly got it.

He slammed my door closed, went back around to the driver’s side and jumped in agilely without opening his.

Was that to remind me how virile you are?  You needn’t have bothered!

“Why were you standing outside the gates?” he demanded as he started the car and drove smoothly through them as they opened.

“I was thinking that I would rather be anywhere but here,” I replied.

He stopped the car and I watched out of the corner of my eyes as his body tensed, every muscle contracting for a brief moment before he forced himself to relax.  If I hadn’t seen him do the same thing dozens of times before when confronted by his belligerent grandfather, I would have thought that my words had no effect on him.

“You don’t have to worry, dear stepsister.”  His lips curled into a sneer as he uttered the last word.  “I don’t plan on having my wicked way with you.”

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Anna's Seduction (One Night of Pleasure)

Her dark blue lace underwear is almost the same colour as her dress and a matching set.  I know lingerie—these are expensive but do nothing for her.

“Just look at you.”  I’m a breast man.  I couldn’t resist freeing her big breasts and nibbling on her nipples in turn until they are sticking out like mini hard-ons from her chest.  I pull the legs of her full panties upwards over her hips and ass until they look more like a high leg or a thong.  “Leave them like that and walk for me.”

I stroke my now rock-hard cock as I watch her strut her stuff, timidly at first but bolder and bolder with each step.  I’ll never understand women, I decide.  I fucked more than I can count, but they’re still a mystery.  How could this woman not think that she’s sexy?  She’s big, yes, but there’s no sign of cellulite yet on her body.  Her strawberry-tipped breasts are just made for a man’s hands and mouth, and lubricated they would make a nice, warm nook for his cock.  Her hair falls to her ass but doesn’t cover it completely.  The sight is as sexy as hell.  An ass-fucking isn’t part of my plans for the night, but it can’t be ruled out.

If my wayward cock wants to claim both holes, I’ll have to give him what he wants.

I watch her until she finally turns at the door on her heels like a supermodel.  Her hips are in full sway as she comes back to me.

“Now you’re ready.”  I unsnap her bra and quickly roll her panties down and off her legs before I take her by the hand and lead her to the en suite shower of my ‘work’ bedroom.  

“You smell clean and fresh.  I know you had a shower or bath before coming over, but I want to bathe you again.  I want to put my mouth all over you and I want to taste only you.”

“Okay,” she agrees and quickly twists her hair into a knot to keep it dry.

I strip down to my boxers.  I had a shower less than an hour ago.  I’m not going to have another, but there’s no point in getting my clothes wet.

I would strip completely but I don’t want her running scared when she sees my cock.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Boxed Sets

Boxed Sets
My day job has gotten in the way of my writing this year.  I thought that I was lucky to escape being made redundant at the end of January, until I realized that I would have to work twice as hard for the same pay after the staff was reduced by nearly half.  It’s been stressful and my creative energy has been totally zapped.  But I’m hoping to get back to writing during the Christmas break.

I’ve also had an uphill battle with Amazon as they keep filtering my books, so I've decided to write only erotic romance in future - don't worry, they will be as steamy as my erotica.  In the meantime, I’ve reduced each of my 10 'Almost Taboo' erotica short stories to the sale price of $0.99 / £0.77 and also bundled them into So Naughty Boxed Sets 1&2 which I'm currently offering for the low price of $2.99 / £1.99.  Grab a copy before the price goes up to $9.99 / £6.99!  The two previous bundles are also on sale for $1.99 / £0.98, each with an added story and shiny new cover.  So Naughty Boxed Set 1 is deliciously naughty while So Naughty Boxed Set 2 is sinfully so – take your pick before these go up to $4.99 / £2.99.

PS.  I will ask Amazon to update previous book files for readers who have purchased Boxed Set 1 or 2 before.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

My Billionaire Books


I’m not a huge fan of books in a series, unless each book is a complete episode, with a continuing minor backstory, so that I can stop reading at any point without the need to know what happens in the next book.  That’s why I watch shows like Law & Order, CSI & NCIS, but don’t watch soap operas.  But I’ve noticed that readers always demand to know more about the characters they’ve enjoyed reading about, ones who have somehow touched them.

Readers have long demanded to know more about the characters in Curves for the Billionaire.  I’ve just published The Billionaire’s Payment and have already had a few request for more, although both stories have HEA endings.  Readers are curious about the workings of the characters’ minds and have also inquired about minor characters.  I spend a lot of time thinking up my characters, but ultimately what appears on the page is less than a third of what is in my head.  I create these characters and have to know all their weaknesses and strengths to show the most significant of them to the reader.  Scenes which occur between them – a candlelit dinner, a dance in the moonlight, may not find their way onto the page if they are not significant or necessary to advance the story.  And yet some readers crave that kind of information.

So, since I have already published both books and many readers have found them satisfying reads, I have decided to address issues I deliberately glossed over for those readers who are curious to know more.  If you have read, or will read either of these billionaire books and enjoyed them as they are, there’s absolutely no need to buy the new books I’m planning.  At the end of both books, the characters declared their love for each other and the readers know that they are on the road to happy ever after.  For me, that’s enough when I’m reading a book and will probably be for most of you.  If it’s not, you’ll be pleased to know that I’m planning to write the following books in the coming months:

Curves for the Billionaire 2:  will pick up where Curves for the Billionaire left off.  Readers find out if Samantha is pregnant and how that will affect their marriage of convenience.  Samantha will have to cope with the reality of being a fuller-figured wife of a wealthy, prominent man who women will try to steal right in front of her eyes, dismissing her as little or no competition.  Zachary’s relationship with his mother will be further explored.  

Curves for the Billionaire 3: Samantha’s friend Fiona was a blast to write.  Readers loved her feistiness and her loyalty.  High Speed Curves is her story and one reason for it being a separate story is the fact that it’s going to be erotica, not erotic romance!  I couldn’t write a straight romance about Fiona.

The Billionaire’s Payment 2: will give readers a chance to experience the remaining six days and nights that Shakira spend with Jared in his hotel suite.

The Billionaire’s Payment 3: will pick up from where we leave them in the first book, but after the simple ceremony in India.  While Jared sets about making good his promise of throwing his wife the most lavish wedding London has seen, Shakira will finally face up to her tormentor, her mother Nadira.  Boosted by Jared’s love, Shakira is stronger, more confident, but is she ready to take on the slim, beautiful, poised woman who is everything Shakira thinks she’s not?  And knowing how desperate for money her spendthrift parents now are as they’re forced to live on a monthly pension which they find inadequate but most British households would live on in luxury, can she trusts their efforts at reconciliation?  This will be a separate book to allow readers to read this after The Billionaire’s Payment, but skip The Billionaire’s Payment 2 as it covers events that happened in the same time frame as The Billionaire’s Payment.

Friday, January 11, 2013

The Billionaire's Payment

This was his lifeblood, damn it!  Every member of staff was like family and David, who had been around since his grandfather’s time, was more so than most. 

This was his lifeblood, damn it!  Every member of staff was like family and David, who had been around since his grandfather’s time, was more so than most.

“Come in,” he ordered at the brisk knock on his door.

“Jared?  I thought our meeting was scheduled for tomorrow at…” the older man’s voice trailed off as he realized that something was wrong.

“Don’t I pay you enough, David?” Jared asked without preamble, his voice deathly cold.

“Of course you do, Jared.”

“Then tell me, David, why did you feel the need to steal my money?”

“Jared, I apologize.  I needed the funds urgently.  I promise I was going to pay you back.”

“I don’t see how you would have paid the money back when you have spent the last two and a half months fiddling the accounts and showing less than full occupancy.” Jared took a deep breath and tried to rein in his anger.  “Why didn’t you just come to me for a loan?”

The older man bowed his head and didn’t answer.  If he had boldly written a cheque for himself and cashed it, Jared would have been annoyed that he had done so without his permission, but it would have seemed like a loan or an advance of salary.  Instead the man had had set up a bogus company and had had one in every ten credit and debit card payments put through to it with a special card reader he had somehow managed to procure.  The planning and the sophistication of the crime staggered Jared.  It spoke of someone with a criminal mastermind, one whom he wasn’t sure he could trust to be around his operations.

“Not only are you fired,” he threatened.  “I intend to prosecute you for every last penny!”  

“Please, Jared, I have a daughter—”

“You should have thought of her before you stole my money,” Jared interrupted ruthlessly.  But, then he queried, his brow creasing in puzzlement, “I thought you only had two young sons.”

“I have a daughter too.  She’s a little older.”

“What does she have to do with this?  Is she in trouble?  On drugs?  Did you steal my money to finance her habit?”

“No. No,” the man denied.  “What I meant was that you and I could come to some arrangement.”

“What are you suggesting?”  Jared didn’t think that the man was suggesting what he thought he was suggesting.  No, no parent would do that to a child, would they?

“She’s as beautiful as my wife and still a virgin.”

Against his will Jared felt his pulse quicken.  The man’s wife was a former Miss India and was still beautiful enough to stop conversation dead when she walked into a room.  She was reed slender and tall, with fine, silky, softly-waving hair that reached past her bottom.  David, though twenty-two years older, was a good looking man.  Their child could be nothing but spectacular.  Yet, something didn’t add up, unless…

“How old is she?” he demanded softly.  If on top of thievery, the man thought he, Jared, was a defiler of underage girls, he would carry out the earlier threat of dismissal that he’d  issued only as a warning.


“Twenty-three and a virgin?”  Jared tried hard not to laugh.  Did he look like a fool?  “I doubt that very much!”

“I promise you she is.  She’s very shy.”

“How do you know she will be willing?  I don’t want to feel like I’m raping any woman.”  

Jared couldn’t believe that he was actually pursuing the ridiculous conversation, but suddenly he felt an urgent need to meet the paragon of virtue.  He hadn’t been on the hunt for pussy in ages—rather pussy had hunted him—it would be exciting to stalk one that was trying to evade him.  He wouldn’t seduce her if she was unwilling, but the thought of the chase and the eventual capture made the blood heat in his veins.

“She’s always been an obedient child,” the older man confidently assured him.  “She will do whatever I ask.”