What Cindy Reads: TAKING THE GARDNER by T.J. Masters #M/M #Erotica

**There are a few minor spoilers in this review**

What drew me to this book other than the delicious cover and the BDSM theme (which you all know I enjoy), is that it is a M/M story actually written by a man.




Blurb:

Mourning the sudden loss of his parents in a car crash, experienced Dom Eric Broderick escapes London society and his high-pressure law firm and retreats to Glebe House in Pittlesburne, a small village in Buckinghamshire. He tours the nearby woods and the charming village, but it’s really the guesthouse’s garden he’s taken with—or, rather, the gardener.

Tom Bestwick maintains the grounds of Glebe House for his fiancée and does odd jobs around the village. With little experience outside Pittlesburne, Tom finds fulfillment through his true passions, rugby and art. He has just one unrealized desire—one the guesthouse’s new occupant would be happy to help him with.

Late one night, while walking through the garden to clear his mood, Eric spies Tom enjoying a BDSM video starring two men. Having a sub to train might just help Eric forget his troubles, but as their feelings deepen, the real world intrudes. Eric can give Tom everything, but not until Tom decides where he’s meant to be.

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For readers who are put off by stories about infidelity, this is not the tale for you. Personally, I'm okay with it. 1. It's fiction. No fiancées were actually betrayed in the making of this novel. 2. Infidelity is part of life. It happens like that sometimes. Not saying it should, but it does.

TJ Masters's writing style is fluid and natural. I very much enjoyed his voice though I would've liked the pace of the story to move along a little more quickly during the first third of the book, but once it got going...it got GOING. The sex scenes are smoking hot. There's a lot of variety, showcasing the BDSM lifestyle without getting lost in it. I enjoyed that though Eric is a Dom and one of a certain amount of notoriety, he is also human, allowing tenderness and vulnerability to shine through. Sometimes Eric's reactions are inconsistent with what one would expect of a Dom, but I thought it gave the character depth. Real people are inconsistent.

Masters did a wonderful job showing the heart-wrenching dilemma that Tom finds himself in and the fear and excitement of crossing some very daunting sexual boundaries. Megan's reaction in the end is also portrayed with a great deal of maturity. All in all, I very much enjoyed this book. If you're looking to put some M/M or BDSM heat in your week, pick this one up today. I'm looking forward to reading more work by TJ Masters.

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3547&cPath=55_747

http://www.amazon.com/Taking-the-Gardener-ebook/dp/B00B9DHD1Q/

#BookBlitz #BDSM #Erotica WILDER'S FANTASIES by Cindy Jacks

Available now all in one collection!

Wilder’s Fantasies by Cindy Jacks

http://www.amazon.com/Wilders-Fantasies-ebook/dp/B00FKEFFZG/

 Fiona Wilder’s name didn’t fit her at all…until she met Marcelo. Introducing her to a world of BDSM sexual play limited only by their imaginations, he unlocks Fiona’s wildest fantasies.

 

Excerpt:

The silken blindfold cooled Fiona’s eyelids; her heart beating out a powerful cadence. Leather bindings cut into her wrists and ankles, winding across her body and snaking around her waist. More ropes held her legs akimbo.

How did I get here? Fiona asked herself. Tricky question, that one. Did she mean “here” as in stripped down to her slip and bound in the bedroom of a man who fascinated and frightened her at the same time? Or could it be that she wondered how she had evolved from Ms. Fiona Wilder, CPA and hopeless singleton to Marcelo’s preciosa, a woman who caught fire at the thought of giving over to his every desire.

No, she corrected herself, they are my desires. Marcelo made himself clear on that point. He had wined and dined her for months, putting ideas in her head that at first she found alarming. Their time together tonight wasn’t about what he wanted, but about how much she wanted to push herself. Thus far, Fiona had surprised herself with where she had allowed herself to go.

The night started with a light meal. Wine, an assortment of cheeses, artisan bread—a little snack to sate the need for food so no other physical needs interfered with the sexual appetite. Then, he took her hand and led her to the master bedroom. A darkened hallway led from the living room of his mid-town condo

She had allowed him to undress her. Taking his time, Marcelo unfastened the buttons down the front of her dress one at a time. The sleek fabric slipped over her shoulders and into a pile on the floor. Reaching beneath her slip, he slid her panties down her legs and pushed them aside with the dress. Fiona’s cheeks and ears heated at the sight of her white cotton underwear, embarrassed she hadn’t thought to buy something sexier, more sophisticated.

Marcelo freed her hair from the single pin that held it in a bun and cupped her face in his hands. His lips brushed against hers. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Do you remember what to say if you want me to stop?”

She looked into his cool blue eyes, studied the black waves along his hairline. Disbelief took hold of her very time she stopped to consider the stunning features of this man. How could someone so handsome want her? Plain, unremarkable Fiona. Ignoring the doubts that plagued her, she answered, “Strangelove.”

“That’s right.” He traced her cheekbones and jaw line with a fingertip. “If you feel at all frightened or uncomfortable, you say the word and we’ll stop.”

With great care, Marcelo set about tethering her to bronze rings that lined the wall of his bedroom. First, he hoisted her onto a barstool. Adjusting and readjusting her pose, he worked her into the perfect position: buttocks on the edge of the seat, legs and arms splayed wide open. Once satisfied, he secured various bindings, slings and clips to hold her immobilized.

Confronted with the reflection her half-naked body in the wall of mirrors across the room, her most private parts glaring back at her, she closed her eyes. Whether by design or as a reaction to her obvious discomfort, Marcelo gave her the luxury of a blindfold. Fiona relaxed a little, no longer aware of her brazen display.

And so, she found herself here, adrenaline coursing through her veins, cunt pounding a violent tattoo, dying to know what Marcelo would do next.

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Get your copy today! http://www.amazon.com/Wilders-Fantasies-ebook/dp/B00FKEFFZG/

#WhipItWednesdays - EMERALD DUNGEON by Kathy Kulig

Please welcome fellow Ellora's Cave author, Kathy Kulig! EMERALD DUNGEON sounds like a scorcher! Get your copy today.
Amazon 
B&N 
Ellora’s Cave

Cheers,
Cindy
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Traveling 3000 Miles to Research BDSM

by Kathy Kulig

 

Developing my story EMERALD DUNGEON was more of a happy accident. Writers tend to get story ideas everywhere: an overheard conversation, a song, a movie, a photograph, a dream, a visit to a new locale. In this situation, it was while visiting a 500 year old castle in Ireland.

 

I attended a medieval banquet within Bunratty Castle and was entertained by a troupe of musicians and singers playing harps and violins. They offered goblets of mead (honey wine) and served a four course dinner medieval style (knife only, no forks).

 

We toured the castle, but never did get to see the dungeon, though I knew there was one. Outside in the darkness, surrounded by fields and forest, a kilted piper played a haunting tune under the flickering lights of flaming sconces. It was not hard to image a story set here, and using the castle as the perfect setting for EMERALD DUNGEON.

 

There’s a slight paranormal element that fits with the magical and romantic setting. When I returned home, my mind continued to work on a story. I thought about a woman from the US who was a harpist and had the opportunity to play with the Irish musicians during the summer. Their regular harpist was on maternity leave and my heroine knew a member of the troupe for the job recommendation. She meets the hero (a member in the troupe) who is also a Dom and part owner of a leather shop in town. When she first arrives at the castle, she’s dying to go exploring. Even though the castle is closed, she finds a way in. The smell of smoke has her worried and she investigates its source—the dungeon. There she finds old sconces burning and also interrupts a BDSM scene. Here’s part of the excerpt of that scene:

 

Excerpt from Emerald Dungeon by Kathy Kulig:

 

Darkness crept in around her except for the golden, flickering light from the basement. Walking through another doorway, Dana thought she heard voices but she wasn’t sure. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

As she rounded a stone partition, the room brightened. Flames flickered within a half dozen wrought iron sconces, a fire burned in a small stone fireplace. The room smelled of sweet burning wood and damp stone. At the far wall two people hovered in shadows. Dana remained in her circle of darkness at the bottom of the stairs, unable to take her eyes away from the sight.

The woman was naked, her wrists and ankles bound with straps that hung from the ceiling. Her arms and legs were spread wide in a V shape. As Dana took a closer look, she saw the woman was cradled in a narrow hammock rigging that supported her back and bottom. Her pussy and anus lay open wide and metal clamps were attached to her nipples. Dana winced at the distended tips protruding from the tight clamps. The woman was also wearing a blindfold. The other person, wearing a hooded robe, was male. She could tell by his bare legs and feet. His back was facing Dana.

A rush of heat, then cold crept through her. Wrapping her arms around her waist, her first instinct was to escape and call for help. Then she stepped back and searched for a weapon, planning to do some damage to the guy if the woman needed help. Instead, Dana froze at the bottom of the stairs. Attacking this man was not a good idea if the woman was a willing participant. She would watch long enough to make sure the woman was okay.

There were people who got into this kinky stuff. Why this woman would allow this man to do these things, Dana couldn’t fathom. “More, slave?” the man in the robe asked the woman.

The woman nodded. “Yes, Master, if it pleases you.” His fingers stroked the narrow thatch of dark hair between her legs, avoiding the glistening folds of her pussy. The woman squirmed and tried lifting her hips.

Dana managed to breathe in teaspoon-sized portions of air. People did this for fun? It didn’t look like fun. Was the woman in trouble? Should she stop this? Go for help? Move, dammit.

#

Video for EMERALD DUNGEON: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m2XWIKl_D7Y

 

Thanks so much for having me as a guest Cindy!

 

Buy Links: Amazon,   B&N , Ellora’s Cave

Kathy’s Links: www.kathykulig.com

Blog FB Twitter: @kathykulig Google+

 

#FirstKissFriday - THE MEETING by Kristin Boyd

Please welcome not only a talent writer, but also a beautiful person both inside and out--Kristin Boyd!

Cindy: I'm so happy to have you here today, chica, for the first First Kiss Friday :)

Kristin: Thank you so much for allowing me to be a guest on your blog today. As a fan, this is truly an honor. To kick off First Kiss Fridays, I thought I'd give your readers a sneak peak at my current work in progress. Normally, my comfort zone is in the paranormal romance genre but I have found it to be an exciting challenge to dip my toes into the realm of BDsM and Erotica.

Enjoy!

 

Cindy: Awww, you know I'm your biggest fan too. Now, let's get to that yummy excerpt!

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The Meeting

by Kristin Boyd

 

I looked in the mirror. How was somebody supposed to dress for an event like this? My eyes intently inspected everything about my appearance. My dark auburn hair curled in large soft ringlets and cascaded over my shoulders. I spent hours on YouTube watching make up tutorials for sultry smoky eye and sexy club make up. My green eyes popped with the accent of the hues of purple I used and the lush false lashes. My lips were glossed in a light pink, their shine matched perfectly the pink vinyl hater mini dress and go-go boots that the sales clerk at the local adult store swore made my curves look “pin-up perfect”. I felt like stripper Barbie, but at least Barbie is pretty. I twirled once more making sure everything looked as good as it was going to before grabbing the event flyer that was left under my windshield wiper while I was at work the week before. I read it once more, “Provocative…Seductive… A once a year experience…Voyeurs, swingers, curiosity seekers, lifestyle, BDsM…This event is open to all! Free your mind & lose your inhibitions.” The model on the flyer was wearing all back and a man was at her feet with a hood, collar, and leather shorts. I certainly was curious. After a lifetime of being told that sexual thoughts and desires were sinful and dirty and a marriage where the physical act of sex was for reproductive purposes only, I knew there was so much more out there for me to explore and it was time for me to finally own the fantasies that I kept locked inside for so many years. I slammed the shot of tequila that I had poured earlier and placed beside the flyer, grabbed my keys, and locked up my apartment. So much for liquid courage, even as I put the key into the ignition my hand trembled. It was going to take a lot more than one shot to sooth this anxiety.

Standing in line on the brisk September evening, people all around me chatted with their dates or friends or acquaintances. I couldn’t force myself to look at anything but the cracked pavement below my feet. I felt so out of place. Everyone seemed dark, and mysterious, and sensual. I fidgeted uneasily as I slowly made my way to the doorman and paid the $20 cover. As I walked through the crowd and made my way to the performance hall I felt eyes on me. In my mind they were picking me apart, in this coterie of scantily clad Goth and Steampunk type individuals, stripper Barbie stuck out like a sore thumb. I wanted so badly to find a place to fit in, a place to be accepted. Doubt filled my mind and sadness weighted down my soul like a lead anchor that, even here, I would not find my place.

The show was unlike anything I had ever seen or heard of before. Musical remixes of popular songs with incredibly kinky undertones were brought to life on stage as men and women performed acts sexual and shocking. To the far right of the stage, a masked petite blond was chained to a cross wearing nothing but latex hot pants, thigh high black leather boots and flesh tone pasties while an incredibly intimidating tall man flogged her until her skin raised in bright red welts, she giggled harder with each lashing. Immediately to her left another masked woman was on a turn table on her hands and knees. Her wrists were cuffed as were her ankles. They must have chosen this one for her ass because it was the most delicious thing I had seen in ages, she wore a bright red vinyl bikini which made her robust bottom look like an apple and my mouth watered for a bite as it was held high in the air. As the table spun, the four Dominatrixes who surrounded the table had plenty of fun spanking her with their hands and paddles of various shapes and sizes. She, too, giggled with each rotation but unlike the willing victim to her right, her torture was captured between kisses. To her left, and in the center of the stage was a large throne. Sitting in the throne was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She wore a Victorian type gown, white lace with gold trim, her broach had a zombie on it. Her makeup was done pale white with bright red lips and her hair looked much like something you would image a Victorian aristocrat to fashion, high atop her head. Upon first glance this regal being appeared almost out of place on that stage, but moments into the song her skirt began moving. There was something, or someone, under there! As the show progressed, the woman's austere emotionless face softened and her head fell back in what appeared to be a state of bliss. She raised her skirt and under it was two incredibly dainty females emulating oral sex on the woman between making out with each other. The crowd's roar was deafening at this revelation and I felt heat rise in my cheeks and moisture dew in my pussy. To her left was one more scene. A girl in a very large cage, it looked like a dog crate. A man walked to the crate and opened it. The girl inside was Asian and couldn’t have been much older than 21. She was very thin with no real curves, but her beauty was captivating as she crawled out of the crate on her hands and knees. She sat at the gentleman who opened her crate’s feet as he petted her head and made long soft strokes down her back. Like a dog, she nuzzled close to him. They interacted like a pet and her Owner. He would give a command and she obeyed. He rewarded her with kisses. On they went, playfully back and forth until he commanded her to turn her back toward him and touch her toes, she obstinately refused. He grabbed her hair roughly and threw her back in her crate and closed the latch. She sat inside sullen as he walked around it authoritatively.

In a darkened corner of the stage, away from any action, partially tucked behind a curtain was what appeared to be a mechanical bull. It had cuffs at the top toward where the head would be and at the back toward the rear. I couldn’t take my eyes away from it. The activity at the other stations intensified as the music sped up. The lights strobed, cries of pain replaced the giggles on stage, and the energy of the crowd shifted to a dark sexual heat unlike anything I had ever felt before. Then, in an instant, the room went black and completely silent. The stage went still, the crowd froze. Out of the darkness a voice boomed, “Welcome to my dungeon. Your pain is my pleasure. Your pleasure is my pleasure! I will exploit your desires and your weakness. I will make you cry and cum. Enjoy the show, while I enjoy my first victim.” Red lights illuminated the stage and in the center, the Victorian woman in the regal throne was replaced by a high back chair made of black iron cast with cryptic images of skulls and bats. Seated in the cathedra was a man. Shirtless he was like something straight out of fitness magazine. His shoulders were broad; his chest clearly defined, his abs were tight creating a beautiful V shaped waist drawing your attention to his bulging black leather pants. His head was shaved completely bald and his features were stern. Confidence radiated off of him in waves as he sat there, scanning the crowd. A spotlight flashed on and swept the crowd as if looking for something…or someone. The sex demon on stage encouraged its movements, directing it towards certain people within the crowd. “No, no, no! None of these will do! Keep searching!” The spotlight continued scanning and stopping sporadically. People gasped as it slowed over them, many sighed loudly with relief when it continued on. The crowd grew restless. Without warning it came to a sudden halt, the man on the stage released a maniacal laugh from deep within his belly. The light had stopped on me. My breath caught in my throat. “She’s perfect! Look at her, she’s terrified. We’ve just entered her most erotic nightmare. She’ll do just fine. She is such a pretty little pet, isn’t she?” The crowd roared. “Bring her forth!” Four pair of hands came from nowhere and grabbed my shoulders, wrists and cusped my waist.

 I was as nervous as I had ever been in my life. I didn’t even know what I was doing in the club at all, let alone to be called on stage in front of 1,500 pairs of eyes. My stomach did summersaults and tears welled in my eyes. The one shot of tequila I had before I left most definitely was not enough for what I found myself doing right now. I was presented to the sinister looking demon as if I was a sacrifice. He rose. He wasn’t much taller than me but as he approached me I felt as tiny as a mouse. He circled me slowly, running his hands over my body. Inspecting me. Judging me. He leaned close to me and into my ear he whispered, “Yes, pet, you will do nicely”. He grabbed my ass hard and held it tightly as he raised his other hand and yelled to crowd, “And it begins!” The stage went bright white and a curtain, previously unnoticed, dropped from behind us to reveal an all new fetish playground where the mechanical bull device that drew my attention only moments ago was now in the center of the stage.

A remix of Nine Inch Nails “Animal” begin to play. The crowd erupted in a unison cheer. A tall dark haired woman entered the stage. Her movement was as fluid as a cat as she crossed in front of me as if I were invisible and kissed the sex demon deeply and passionately. He removed his hand from my ass and began to explore this new woman’s nearly naked body. The only thing she wore was thigh high black leather boots and a black leather thong bikini. Her body was magnificent. She wan tan and tone. Her muscles were long and lean and as they ravished each other on stage, you could see her body tense with his touch and relax as desire obviously washed over her. Their kiss broke suddenly and she stepped back. She reached for a buckled piece of leather around her thigh she unfastened it and handed it to the man. He came to me and put the leather around my neck and clasped it. He grabbed the heavy metal ring at its center and pulled me toward the mechanical bull. My legs felt like jello as I stumbled behind him. We stopped abruptly; the spot lights lit up the background scenes, each with a different color. As the crowd’s attention was drawn to back of the stage the man and the woman lifted me onto the back of the bull. I wanted to resist, I wanted to scream and kick my way from their grasp. I wanted to flee from the stage, from the building as quickly as my legs would take me. A small part of me, however, wanted nothing more than to stay and turn myself over to the moment. I didn’t know who these people were or why they chose me, but I was curious for them and in that split second I discovered how much stronger my curiosity was than my reason. The man seemed to be feeding on my insecurity and began to pet my head. His eyes locked on mine, “I will not harm you, but I may hurt you. You don’t have to trust me, but in this situation, I strongly advice that you do. You can stop anything that I do by simply saying “Fin”. The way he looked at me, it was as if he had known me forever. He seemed to be holding a part of my own soul in his gaze. All I could do was nod. The lights all returned to shine directly on us, darkness fell on the other scenes while the sounds of sexual torture continued in time to the rhythm of the bass of the music. The tall exotic woman moved to the head of the bull and pulled my arms down, harshly strapping my wrists into the cuffs before moving to the rear and doing the same with my ankles. I couldn’t free myself no matter how I tried. My pussy grew wet with this forced submission. I felt something cold and thin run along my body as the woman walked around me. A crop. A shiver ran down my spine. She stopped only when she met the man at the head of the bull. Once again, she assaulted his mouth with hers. She wrapped a leg around his torso and began to grind against him; he pushed her away, turned towards me, tilted my chin up towards him and explored my mouth with his. He parted my lips with his tongue and claimed my kiss with his. I didn’t know this man, but at this moment, in this first kiss, I knew I belonged to him.

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Cindy: Whew, is it hot in here? That was a pretty steamy first kiss scene! Love it! Hard to believe you just started experimenting with this genre. Now, earlier you stated that you usually write paranormal romance. Anything in particular that's drawn you to BDsM?

 

Kristin: Curiosity really. I know quite a few people who live the lifestyle and the stories of their REAL lives intrigue me and inspire me. These are some of the most interesting people I have ever met, beautiful in their own ways because they have accepted who they are and what they want out of life (both vanilla and kink). 

 

Cindy: Tell us a little about a typical day for you?

 

Kristin: I am a single mom, first and foremost. I wake up and get my children up and ready for their day before preparing for my own. I work full time as a Sales Manager for a small company, I love my job (firefighters are my customers, who wouldn't love that?!). It is a normal 9-5. After work, life is normal. I love being domestic. Cooking, cleaning, keeping house.

 

Cindy: With such a busy schedule (and hot firefighters surrounding you), how do you find the time to write?

 

Kristin: When the world goes dark in the evening, so does my mind and that is why I typically escape to the fantasy world (PixieLand) where writing and reading provides escape and solace. PixieLand is a very sexy and mysterious place where Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, Demons, and Kinky people all live and play. 

 

Cindy: Who are some of your influences?

 

Kristin: UM....CINDY JACKS, of course, I friggin' love you!!! Larissa Ione is also one of my major influences. Kayden McLeod is another. All real people with real talent.

Cindy: Aw, you're making me blush :) I'm honored to be mentioned with talented ladies like Larissa and Kayden! I like that phrase: "real people with real talent". How does your real life inform your writing?

 

Kristin: Well, as I mentioned earlier, I draw inspiration from my circle of friends who live these interesting lives. I do a lot of people watching as well. Because I do typically write romance, I am not ashamed that my real life fantasies often come to life on the pages. 

Cindy: And speaking of delicious fantasies, name one of your guilty pleasures :)

 

Kristin: Starbucks Java Chip Ice Cream. I keep a pint hidden in my mini fridge at all times.

 

Cindy: Ha! That is an awesome guilty pleasure. Thanks again for being my guest. Let us know when we can expect the release of your WIP!

 

Want to know more about Kristin? Follow her on Twitter: https://twitter.com/inkpixiekb. Never a dull moment in PixieLand ;)

 

Cheers,

Cindy

Fiction for the Bad Girl in Every Woman

http://cindyjacks.com/

 

 

 

 

#WhipItWednesday - ALICIA'S POSSESSION by Colette Saucier

Please welcome my first Whip It Wednesday guest all you BDSM readers, Colette Saucier. Her new release, ALICIA'S POSSESSION sounds delicious! Get your copy today:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Secret Cravings Publishing Store

Cheers,
Cindy
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Blurb

 

Alicia’s Possession

Haunted by a traumatic accident and her husband’s betrayal, Alicia believes she can never trust again. Now she must surrender her will to Mason if she wants to find out if the bizarre events terrorizing her are the work of the paranormal, her own paranoia, or something far more sinister.

 

After recovering from a freak car crash that put her in a coma and left her with no memory of the accident, wealthy socialite Alicia Pageant becomes convinced there is a connection between the mysterious disappearance of her neighbor and a series of bizarre occurrences inside her own house; but everyone—including the detective called to investigate—thinks the woman’s head injury has left her unable to distinguish reality from fantasy.

 

As Detective Mason Crawley investigates this “suspicious incident,” Alicia’s palpable sadness and vulnerability awaken his instinct to protect her and lead her into the light; but when her story begins to unravel, each new piece of information creates more questions than it answers. He begins to wonder if he is falling in love with a woman who is a witness to a cleverly-concealed crime, dangerously delusional, or a murderer.

  (Contains light bondage and elements of Dominance and submission.)

 

“A great story. It's got everything—sex, crime, cops, more sex, a twisted mystery, knot tying, and a superb denouement.” — Chuck Hustmyre, screenwriter and bestselling author of THE AXMAN OF NEW ORLEANS

Excerpt from Alicia’s Possession

 

“What do you want?” she asked. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Mason gripped her upper arms, forcing her eyes to meet his. He knew he’d made a mistake the moment her warmth bled through the silk of her robe and into his palms, sending a ripple of sensation up his arms and down his body. "Why did you lie about knowing Judith?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly but not in the terse tone he used to intimidate a witness. No, she might not recognize it, but he could hear his lust cradling each syllable.

She squeezed her eyes tight as if to prevent her tears’ escape, but instead it forced them down her cheeks. “I wasn’t lying. I don’t know her. I don’t remember her. I don’t remember anything.”

He lifted one hand from her arm and brushed the tears from her cheek with his thumb before running it across her bottom lip. Her eyes remained closed, and his chest rose and fell in rhythm with hers. He leaned in close enough to inhale her breath.

“Don’t,” she said without force.

He shuffled his feet forward the few inches required for his body to brush against her breasts. “How can you not remember?”

“Th-the accident.”

He brought his mouth down, barely touching hers, his tongue tasting the salt of tears on her lips—those lips he had wanted to kiss from the first moment they’d met.

“Please,” she said on a puff of air and tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his hold on her arm.

“Please what?”

“Please…don’t kiss me.”

“I think you want me to kiss you.” When she said nothing in protest, he pressed his lips to hers and gently pulled first her top, then her bottom lip into his mouth. He held her chin between his thumb and fist to lift her face.

Tears still streamed down her cheeks, but she opened her eyes and shook her head. “I…I can’t do this.”

Mason trailed his finger down her throat to the opening of her robe, stopping just over her heart, and she trembled with a hitch in her breath.

“What do you mean you didn’t remember her because of the accident?”

“I have…gaps, memory loss.” Her tears had begun to wane.

“I’m going to kiss you again.”

“No,” she whispered when his mouth hovered mere millimeters over hers. He dropped his hand from her arm to the small of her back and pulled her against him, and she gasped at the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. “I’m not ready for this.”

“Because of your injury?”

“Because of the infidelity. My husband. He hurt me.” Her words pinched his heart and he nodded. “I can’t be with a man—any man. I can’t trust anyone. I don’t even trust myself to have the sense or judgment to know who can be trusted. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust anyone again.”

Mason laid a soft kiss on her mouth, tugging her bottom lip gently between his teeth. He lifted his face just enough to look at her. In time, he could teach her to trust again, at least to trust him, but it would take patience—and perseverance. He thought she might be worth the effort.

“If you want me to stop,” he told her, “if you really mean it, say ‘apple.’”

Alicia furrowed her brow and blinked before meeting his stare directly. “But I told you to stop.”

“Yes, but you didn’t mean it.” The color rushing into her cheeks proved him right. “I will only stop if you say ‘apple.’ Understand?”

She responded with a single, slow nod, never taking her eyes off him. When he covered her mouth with his, he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened for him. He wrapped both arms around her then, holding her tight, and she placed her hands on his shoulders. As his tongue swirled inside her mouth, she leaned against him and released a low, moaning sigh. He allowed the kiss to continue and to deepen, in part because he wanted to prevent her from using the safety word, but primarily because he didn’t want to relinquish her delicious mouth. Although he would never call himself a connoisseur, he could detect the subtle notes of cherry, chocolate, and plum from the wine on her tongue.

Buy Links

Now available from Amazon for Kindle, Barnes & Noble for Nook, and in all other eBook formats from the Secret Cravings Publishing Store and wherever fine eBooks are sold.

 

Blackest Nights release date

I'm thrilled to announce BLACKEST NIGHTS will release July 3rd. It's guaranteed to put some fireworks into your Independence Day celebrations!

There's nothing gray about Black's dominance or Red's submission...

BDSM-curious, Georgia aka Red, attends a lunch meeting of the Rocky Road Social Club where she meets a Dom who introduces himself as Black. Tall, caramel-skinned and truly gorgeous, Black has a commanding presence that draws Red in.

After one dinner together, Red agrees to explore a weekend as Black’s sub. He pushes her to the limits of pain, pleasure and beyond. Though she delights in his firm hand and even firmer lash, when Black proposes a more permanent arrangement, Red wonders whether she’s ready to submit―body and soul―to the man who dominates her blackest desires.

A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Add this BDSM scorcher to your wishlist today.
http://www.ellorascave.com/blackest-nights.html

Thrilled to announce...

I have a new contract with Ellora's Cave. Yes, my editor Jilly offered it to my last month, but I don't like to make the announcement until I get the signed copy from the EC contract department. It's official--BLACKEST NIGHTS will be published later this year. SQUEEEEEEEEE!

Here's a little sneaky peeky...unedited of course so please forgive my typos ;) Oh and if BDSM isn't your thing, you might not want to read on...you've been warned!

BLACKEST NIGHTS
copyright Cindy Jacks 2012

Excerpt:

For our first play session, I arrived early, reciting, “Scarlet, slow. Midnight, stop,” as I parked in his driveway. Once I’d inspected my makeup and smoothed my black skirt and spaghetti strap blouse, I propelled myself out of the car. The humid night air threatened to kink up my hair. A smile on my lips, I hoped my hair wouldn’t be the only thing kinked up that night. My stomach did flipflops at the thought of what Black had in store for me.

At 8:55, I knocked on his door. I heard him moving inside the house, but he didn’t answer.

A couple minutes passed and still I stood on his porch, the crickets chirping in the cooling night air. Maybe he hadn’t heard my knock. I rang the doorbell.

Another minute or so passed and every second that ticked by left me feeling foolish. Why was he making me wait? Finally out of patience, I fished my cell phone out of my purse and hit the auto-dial for his number.

As soon as Black jerked open the door, I knew I’d made a mistake. His lips down-turned, his eyes narrowed, he folded his arms over his chest.

The intensity of his stare unnerved me.

Fixing my gaze on the ground, I offered an explanation though he hadn’t demanded one, “I wanted to be sure I was on time.”

“But you aren’t on time, you’re early. Nine o’clock means nine o’clock.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Go into the dining room and sit.” He moved aside to let me pass. “To your left.”

Hurrying to do as instructed, I didn’t have much time to take in the decor of the house. Once I’d taken a seat, I studied the austerity of the mission style dining table, chairs and china cabinet. One massive photo―at least four feet by six feet―hung on an otherwise bare wall. It depicted a close up of a fig sliced in half. So suggestive was the imagery of female genitalia that I found myself averting my eyes, sneaking furtive glances. Every time I dared to look at it for more than a couple of seconds, my cheeks burned and butterflies flitted around my stomach.

The door clicked shut and I heard his footsteps head in the opposite direction. Then he returned, his cell phone in hand. Drawing his finger across the screen, he turned it so I could read. The glowing display showed his call log.

“Read the most recent entry,” he said.

“It says, ‘Red’.”

“And is it an incoming call or an outgoing one?”

“Incoming,” I mumbled. I knew exactly what I’d done wrong.

“I said never to call me.” He grabbed me by the hair and I flinched more out of surprise than pain. He wasn’t pulling all that hard…yet.

“I’m sorry.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, excited by the control he exerted over me.

Setting the phone aside, he moved behind me. Leaning down, he let his lips brush past my ear. I could feel his breath on my cheek and neck. Inhaling his cologne, I closed my eyes, my heartbeat quickening.

“You don’t listen.” He tightened his grasp, shaking me a little. I gasped, the pain sharper now, the throbbing of my pussy radiating throughout my body.

I didn’t reply, struggling to suppress a smile though I couldn’t figure out just why I felt like grinning.

“What’s funny?” He tugged at my hair.

The tug hurt so much my eyes watered. “Nothing.”

“Say it. Say, ‘I don’t listen’.” His held my head held back, forcing me to make eye contact.

“I―” My voice cracked, arousal and agony gripping my throat. “I don’t listen.”

“Do you need me to make you?”

“Yes…please.” My legs trembled, my pussy quivering at the thought of what he would do to punish me.

Bending me over the table, he pressed my cheek to the cool surface, hand still tangled in my hair, but he’d eased up on the agonizing hold.

The skirt I’d taken so much care to pick out wound up crumpled around my waist. He ripped off my panties then caressed the swell of my ass. I heard the jangle of his belt buckle and the woosh of it sliding out of his belt loops. Oh God, he was going to―

Crack!

I cried out and squirmed, the initial sting so intense I could hardly stand it, but he held me down.

Crack!

The belt smacked against my ass, heat spreading over the entire cheek. I yelped and whimpered. A sharp burning sensation ran along the junction of my buttock and my thigh and I was sure he’d given me a welt. The thought turned me on to no end. I was bare-assed, splayed out across a table and one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever met was punishing me. Oh yes, I wanted more.

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