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Spy Games — Another Fab New Anthology Edited by Jillian Boyd

It’s totally my pleasure to announce that the wonderful author and editor, Jillian Boyd, has an exciting new anthology Cover2out called Spy Games — a sizzling collection of nine stories, by nine delicious authors, all about spies and detectives. Move over Mr Bond! Make room for something truly sexy!

SPY GAMES Blurb:

From the sunny streets of South Florida, to the bars of Paris, to the backstreets of Rome where a secret club for old spies lies hidden, Spy Games is a collection of nine tantalizing tales in which spies and detectives seduce and deduce in all corners of the world.

Edited by Jillian Boyd and featuring stories from the likes of Zak Jane Keir, Slave Nano, Emily L. Byrne and F. Leonora Solomon, Spy Games is filled with danger, desire and the thrill of sex and spying. Unleash your inner Mata Hari and devour this collection… should you choose to accept this mission, of course.

Spy Games Buy links:

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Spy-Games-Thrilling-Erotica-ebook/dp/B00V5659WW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1427644792&sr=8-1&keywords=Spy+Games%3A+Thrilling+Spy+Erotica

Amazon US – http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Spy+Games%3A+Thrilling+Spy+Erotica

ARe – https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-spygames-1766800-362.html

 

Spy GamesExcerpt:

from Mid-Life Career Changes by Jessica Taylor

On my last night with Roman, I dropped from a contorted perch in the airshaft of his kitchen. I knew he kept no security in his house overnight, perhaps the only honest mistake I ever saw him make. My bare feet made no sound as I landed like a small grasshopper next to his purring refrigerator in the warm, inky dark. The lights of the city pulsed like stars through the glass walls of his home. I remember almost deviating, almost going to stand next to his round, thick dining table in front of those transparent walls overlooking the up lit trees of the park below. Roman had eaten there last, sipping magenta borscht and reading the paper Nash Gorod – Our City. Then he had gone to his freezer and pulled a translucent bottle of anise liqueur from the drawer. Dressed in silk black pyjama bottoms, his nipples hardened when he slowly kissed the bottle, leaning back peacefully onto the cold metal. His Adam’s apple bobbed finely as he pulled on the cloudy fluid.

I stole across his open home until I came to the ornately carved door of his master suite. In the centre of the room, my man was sleeping soundlessly, innocently tucked into the folds of his red silk bed. Talismans and the charms of the superstitious decorated the high ceiling above the entrance and I knew from months of watching that he crossed himself each night before he finally entered. I had smelled sage and peppercorn as I envisioned him walking down the hall, shirtless and stretching his arms above his head, scratching his shoulder blade lazily.

My hands, I remember, had shaken. It was a miniscule vibration but still it was there. It took moments longer to pick the lock than it normally would have. I suspect I even made noise, as if I was subconsciously warning him. But when I slithered in, he remained asleep and undisturbed. Then my steps were choppy, without confidence or grace, as I moved across the room to my sleeping, waiting man.  He had slept so noiselessly, I thought to myself he would not keep even me, such a light sleeper, awake the way other men had with their lip smacking and snoring. I would have been at peace beside him.

When he opened his eyes, there was no fear or surprise. He looked at me as if he was awaiting me and I had finally emerged from between the trees. His eyes travelled my tightly shrouded body, taking in my small frame, my bare feet. In those days, I carried no weapons. Perhaps when he noticed this, he thought he might have a chance. Or maybe he thought escape from the situation possible when he saw the confusion in my own eyes, the hesitance in my stance. He pushed himself up slowly, as if to not ignite a wild animal, as we continued our mutual gaze. He spoke first, with a voice I knew well; scratchy and deep, caressing my ears like a symphony.

“You don’t look like one of my normal girls,” Roman announced sarcastically but calmly. “Who sent you?” he continued.

I wonder now what my voice sounded like to him the first time he heard me speak. Was it instantly intoxicating, as his was for me? “I don’t actually know,” I responded, honestly but quietly. “It’s not the way that I operate.” I spared him the explanation that I always opted out of knowing who wanted it done or why. I found that such information hindered my efficiency.

He slowly sat up, the red sheets falling into his lap. He drew his hands to his chest in submission as his carved, naked muscles flexed. “How long have you been with me?”

I sighed as I stared longingly between the lines of his muscles, “Six months.” His face had reddened then, thinking perhaps about whom he would personally execute for the oversight of my presence. I let him slide his feet to the floor in the same way I had seen him do so many times before. Perhaps because I am so small, he thought he could out manoeuvre me. He thrust forward like a beast released from a cage, groping towards the spot where I knew he kept a 9mm Glock.

I dropped to my knees, thinking to swipe his ankles. With my legs spread, and my shins pressed to the ground, I looked up into his clear blue eyes. My mouth hung open in awe. I had never seen his eyes this close and they mesmerized me. My sex began to throb and my breasts swelled with heaviness. A dull ache stirred in my clitoris. I was overcome with sensation I thought I could suppress. He hovered over me, looking down at me between his legs. I must have seemed so inane, so slight, perhaps even so lovely straddled there beneath him, looking up at him like a confused but lovesick dog. All I would have had to do was rise onto my knees and I could take him into my empty mouth as I kept staring into those calm eyes.

I will never know why he stopped going for the gun, why he looked down at me with a new expectation, or why he pulled on the black silk tie of his sleeping pants to give me a chance. They drifted with the speed of a feather to the ground at my knees and all of the fantasies I could not suppress over the past few months filled me like a dam had broken. I saw us walking through the park with the lost, white dog prancing along beside us. I saw us sparring, and then falling to make love on the mat. I saw myself as his warrior, his personal assassin for any man he needed taken down.

After months watching him, he had made me doubt my solitude and even my consuming profession, and I was deeply grateful to be beneath him watching his cock elegantly harden. I suddenly wanted to express my respect and longing for him. I wanted to show him how he had changed me, though I was still unsure in what ways I was different. When he ever so slightly nodded his head to me, my mouth watered, saliva jumping from the buds in my mouth.

I arched my back and leaned my small breasts in to rub at his knees. For a second only I worried for his hands having access to my neck, where we both know places for that smooth snap. But the skin of his cock had turned dark and burgundy against the white of his muscular thighs and I was magnetised. I placed my hand at the base of his shaft, opened my mouth and flattened my tongue over his balls. I dragged my tongue up him, each taste bud softly abrading and then absorbing him as I moved up to the head of his cock. I ascended so slowly, as if every cell of his skin needed to be tasted. I licked it ravenously, the way Eve had when she first beheld and then tasted her own apple.

I hovered there, at the bright head of his dick, and dug my nails into his inner thighs as I tried to hold myself back from swallowing him too deeply. When I finally let myself take him slowly into the back of my throat, he had begun to softly groan “yes” with each exhale. He pulled at my bundled brown hair so it fell down my arched, begging back. When he dug a powerful hand into the roots and shoved my head farther onto his dick, I moaned loudly and my nipples tightened, fiercely longing to be thumbed.

He lifted me without effort just before he could no longer keep himself from erupting hotly onto my face. That would have been enough for me, to swallow him reverently. He sat me on the heavy wooden bed in front of him and peeled off my black pants. He set his teeth against the inside of my ripped thigh and squeezed his teeth on my muscle. I thought briefly of the major arteries available to his mouth, if he was considering using it for a different kind of destruction. As he bit, he pulled back the skin of my hood and rubbed the head of my clit, already engorged and slick just from sucking him. I drew my knees toward me as I balanced back onto my arms and spread with trust for him.

When I lifted my eyes from his dirty blond head, I discovered a mirror behind us and watched his gluteal muscles ripple and twitch as he thrust his tongue into me. Misty grey tattoos covered his back and I could see a scar where one had been dug from his body by the blade of another man’s knife. If I were his, he would be perfectly protected for life. A white, shiny scar had healed there but threads of leftover ink still peppered the new skin. I first came quietly and deeply with his face between my legs, lapping my clitoris while his two fingers calmly caressed me. I stared into the white dwarf star of that scar that swallowed me whole.

As he stood, I returned my hands to his cock and stroked him as he discarded my tight black top and I stared up into his blue eyes, biting my lip and wishing for this moment to continue on and on. He spat on my breasts and then sat his dick between them and slid himself up and down. He stroked my hard, dark nipples, exactly as I’d dreamed before. I grew wetter and wetter, the energy in my pelvis growing as I began to moan softly for him. Just then, he could have done anything to end me. He could have slit my throat or choked my breath from me. I submerged myself in the moments with him, avoiding myself and the decisions I would need to make, lost from my consciousness as he rubbed me and showed me his beautiful cock and let me pet his tattooed chest and abdomen. My cheeks and neck flushed red like they did when I sprinted after him in the park below, like they did when we pounded ourselves into switch kicks and hooks.

I let him turn me and set me on my knees in front of him on the bed. He could have made a horror movie of me, dark and sadistic with my blood smeared on the walls and my insides brutalized entirely differently. I didn’t worry about his hands groping for a gun as he kept on massaging both my nipples while he pumped himself deeply into me from behind. Eventually, he grabbed my ass and split my cheeks as he slowly pulled his length from me, floated at my entrance, and then painfully slowly slid back into me. I dripped sweat when he sped up, fucking me deep, hard, and rhythmically. I was too weak with desire to fear him when he set his hands on top of his head, continuing to bang into me. “Harder,” I begged as I stroked myself and pressed my face into the red sheets.

He could have shot me, stabbed me, broken my neck. Instead, he fucked me until I came twice more. The last time, I was on my back and he had smiled deep into my eyes. This was the smile I had seen when he was deeply happy, deeply at peace. This was his smile for lost dogs in the park, for toasting frozen vodka at midnight, for singing off key in the gym late at night. He withdrew from me as I stared hazily at him and the world exploded around me. He erupted searing cum onto my belly and chest. Then he massaged it into my breasts and nipples as he softly made love to my lips and tongue with his mouth.

After, Roman lay behind me—he spooned me tenderly and I allowed it—as we spoke softly for some time. He asked me what I had seen over the past months, and I told him, which was everything. He sighed deeply as if it mattered what one murderer saw another do, as if he still planned on us both making it out of there.  Telling Roman the complexity of his life, I finally admitted to myself how I had come to fall in love with him. And I failed to recognize that the story could have a different ending.

Find Jessica Here:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/jessahtaylor

 

About Jillian Boyd:

Jillian Boyd is an erotica author and blogger, who has been putting dirty words on paper and on her blog for the past three years. She likes taking everyday, seemingly mundane situations and making them sexy and sensual – and when she’s not doing that, she lets her imagination fly off into history and distant planets. Where she also tries to find everyday situations and make them sexy and sensual.

She’s been published in several House of Erotica anthologies, contributed to Tiffany Reisz’s office supply erotica charity anthology Felt Tips and has a story in the Golden Crown Literary Award-winning Best Lesbian Romance 2014, published by Cleis Press. She is currently working on her first novella, a sci-fi erotic thriller called In Another Life.

Find Jillian here:

Spy Games Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/spygamesantho

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The Mount Series Box Set FREE through Sunday!

For free download 4th to 8th March

I’m very excited to announce that The Mount Box Set is FREE for a very limited time! You can download yours from Amazon for the next five days! The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust — all three full-length novels, all yours all free!  Download yours now and enjoy not one, but THREE naughty visits to The Mount in three fabulous cities!

 

The Mount Series Box Set

Rita Holly’s sexy initiation; the strange contract Nick Chase fulfills for Elsa Crane; Liza Calendar and Paulo Delacour’s formulation of an exclusive perfume derive from the scent of sex – the cult of The Mount is behind them all. Shrouded in mystery and grounded in sexual exploration, The Mount is world-wide and ancient, its existence known only to its members who keep its secrets from generation to generation. Together for the first time in one volume, the accounts of The Mount in London, Las Vegas and Rome — three novels, three wild romps of lust, sexual largesse and love.

 


Blurb for The Initiation of Ms Holly, Book 1 of The Mount Series:

Holly cover FINAL9781907761270_FCJournalist, Rita Holly, never dreamed sex with the mysterious Edward in the dark of a malfunctioning train would lead to a blindfolded, champagne-drenched tango, a spanking by a butch waitress, and an offer of initiation into the exclusive mysteries of The Mount. Desperate to save her threatened job, she agrees, scheming secretly to write an inside exposé on the club that will make her career. But as she delves deeper into the intrigue of The Mount and the lives of its members, she soon discovers that her heart may have other plans.

 

Blurb for Fulfilling the Contract, Book 2 of The Mount Series:

Fulfilling the ContractLimo driver, NICK CHASE’s bad night gets worse when he picks up TANYA POVIC at a bar only to discover the explosive sex they share lands her in breach of her very strange contract. Blaming himself that Tanya will lose the large completion bonus earmarked for her mother’s surgery, Nick negotiates with her boss, the tough and mysterious ELSA CRANE, to allow him to fulfill Tanya’s contract and secure her bonus.

Elsa runs Mount Vegas, which offers voyeuristic pleasures for a price. Nick’s job, with Elsa and her quirky team, is to give clients something worth watching through the plate glass windows of Vegas’s luxury hotels and beyond. The learning curve is steep and kinky. As Nick and Elsa’s relationship sizzles and ignites more than hotel room rendezvouses are exposed. In this sequel to The Initiation of Ms Holly things get positively dangerous as Rita Holly and her team are called in from London to lend a helping hand. Bets are being placed. Will Nick fulfil the contract? Will he and Elsa take the gamble? And will they find a way to win at the high stakes, double or nothing, game of hearts?

 

Blurb for To Rome with Lust, Book 3 of The Mount Series:

To Rome with LustThe adventure that Rita Holly began in The Mount in London and Nick Chase took up in Vegas continues when a sizzling encounter on a flight to Rome has journalist, Liza Calendar, and perfumer, Paulo ‘The Nose’ Delacour, in sexy olfactory heaven. The heir apparent of Martelli Fragrance, Paulo wants Liza’s magnificently sensitive nose to help develop Martelli’s controversial new line. Paulo has a secret weapon; Martelli Fragrance is the front for the original Mount, an ancient sex cult of which he is a part, and Paulo plans to use the scent of sex to enhance Martelli’s Innuendo line. As Liza and Paulo sniff out the scent of seduction, they become their own best lab rats. But when someone steals the perfume formulas and lays the blame at Liza’s feet, she and Paulo must sniff out the culprit and prove Liza’s innocence before more is exposed than just secret formulas.

 

Free Download Here:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA

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Lily Harlem’s Seriously Hot BDSM Billionaire Novel, IN EXPERT HANDS is now available!

IEH smallLook what’s new and sizzling from my good friend, sister Brit Babe and fabulous writer, Lily Harlem! 

 

In Expert Hands Blurb:

Imogen White has it all—a high-flying career, a prestigious London home and friends she knows will fight her corner. She’s going up, and she’s in control, she’s also got the hots for one very important, very sexy client.

Kane Ward is a self-made billionaire whose determination to be the best of the best has left him alone. He has everything money can buy, yachts, jets, and villas in all four corners of the globe, but even he can’t buy time to suit his needs.

And his needs are very specific, his desires a particular shade of kink and his tastes anything but vanilla. So when he sets his sights on Imogen it’s a given that things are going to get dark, that pleasure will be laced with pain and determining his success will be measured by her blushes and gasps and cries of delight. But Imogen doesn’t need to worry, she’s in expert hands and her every fantasy is about to come true—and then some she’d never imagined in her wildest dreams.

IN EXPERT HANDS has a spin-off short story, IN SAFE HANDS which is featured in the Brit Babes SEXY JUST GOT RICH anthology. Go grab your copy – it’s available from all good ebook retail outlets at a bargain introductory price – and let yourself fall into the dark, erotic world of the Ward brothers, but remember to call them Sir if you’re wearing their collar!

In Expert Hands Buy Links

Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TI0T5KE

Amazon UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00TI0T5KE?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Amazon Ca http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B00TI0T5KE?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Amazon AU http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B00TI0T5KE?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24916749-in-expert-hands?ac=1

 

Excerpt from IN EXPERT HANDS 18+

“Would you like a drink?” he asked over the sound of the music.

“I’m okay, unless you want one.”

“No. I drank water after my workout.” He urged her forward. “So shall we go straight into a playroom?”

“If that’s what you want?”

He glanced at his watch. “There should be something going on to satisfy our voyeur plans for the evening.”

They stepped toward the bar.

Kane indicated another doorway at the opposite end that had a chain mail curtain hanging from its frame. “It’s through there.”

“Ah, K. Long time no see.” A man wearing a similar jacket to Kane’s but with only two stars over the breast pocket extended his hand.

He didn’t wear a mask and Imogen could see that his smile was genuine.

“Nate, how have you been?” Kane took his hand and they shook.

“Great, been in the City for a few weeks on business. Making the most of my free time by coming here.” Nate turned to kane 1Imogen and raised his eyebrows. “You have company.”

“Don’t look so surprised.” Kane squeezed Imogen a little closer.

“I am. You don’t usually bring guests. Special occasion?”

Imogen felt Kane tense. She sensed he wasn’t enjoying having his break from the ordinary commented on. “

No occasion,” Kane said. “Good to see you, Nate, perhaps we’ll get a chance to catch up later.”

“Yep. That would be cool.” Nate held up what appeared to be a glass of fizzy water and nodded. He kept his attention on Imogen. “Enjoy your evening here at Sub Space. I’m sure Master K will address your every need.”

“Thank you.” Imogen smiled then felt her cheeks heat as Nate swept his gaze down her body—starting at the collar, then lingering on her breasts and finally on her boots.

Kane stepped forward, tugging her with him. “This way.”

After several paces she touched the collar. “This, around my neck,” she said quietly. “What would happen if I wasn’t wearing it?”

“It would make you fair bait for men like Nate, who are just out to play in a scene, find someone to hook up with.” He glanced at her. “He had no right to look at you like that.”

“Well, the outfit kind of screams look at me.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Oh.” She was confused. “It’s not?”

“No. You’re with me. I’ve claimed you with a collar. What’s more, I outrank him. He should show more respect.”

“You outrank him?”

“Of course.” He pulled back the chain curtain and opened a door. He ushered Imogen into the new room.

Imogen opened her mouth and stared around, thoughts of Nate vanishing.

Kane moved her from the doorway and into the shadows. He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“What are your first impressions?” he asked by her ear, his lips brushing her lobe and his breath heating a trail down her neck.

She leant back into him, loving being so close, held by him. But she couldn’t concentrate fully on his embrace because of what was before her. “It’s…sexy.”

“Mmm, I’m glad you think so,” he said, the soft material of his mask rubbing against her temple. “What else?”

She looked around. The room was sectioned into six large cubicles, each one decorated in dark tones and with a combination of low lights and spotlights. Each three-walled area held a bed or a table or some other piece of equipment in the center. Three spaces were occupied.

There was an audience, too, couples, singles, threesomes sitting on more large sofas. Imogen could only see the backs of their heads. Some appeared enraptured, others holding quiet conversations.

“Tell me,” Kane urged, slipping his hand over the smooth material covering her waist. “What do you think about that, over there, to your left.”

Imogen was already staring in that direction. It had been the main thing that had captured her attention.

Portrait of a young couple
A naked woman was bent double, tied to a skinny padded table with her ankles fastened to the legs and her arms stretched out on two platforms, crucifix-like. Her skin was pale except for her behind, which was scarlet.

Beside her stood a man—dressed like Kane in black trousers and a velvet jacket—wielding a flogger. He walked around the woman as if surveying the marks on her ass then cracked down the many strands over her skin.

Imogen jerked and a tingle traveled over her buttocks, as though her nerves were empathetic with what the woman on the table was going through.

The man hit again.

The woman groaned and moved her head, her face coming into Imogen’s view. She had her eyes screwed up tight and her lips were parted. There was a flush of red on her cheeks that matched the rosy blush on her backside.

“Talk to me,” Kane said softly.

“Is she enjoying it?” Imogen asked, although she was pretty sure she knew the answer. The woman appeared to be in ecstasy, as though she’d folded in on herself and only her body and sensation existed.

“Very much so,” Kane said. “Master Zen is very capable of working his sub towards orgasm just through striking her.”

“Are they just…playing a scene or are they…?”

“Lovers, committed to each other? Yes, actually those two are. They’re regulars here and live the lifestyle.”

“The lifestyle?”

“Yes.” He slid his hand to her collar and spanned it with his thumb and fingers. “They live full time as Dom and sub. He commands and she obeys.”

“It sounds…old-fashioned.” Imogen wasn’t sure about the obeying thing. She’d known friends who’d purposely had that removed from their wedding vows.

“It’s a symbiotic relationship,” Kane went on, smoothing his fingers around her collar and brushing her skin.

A small shiver ran down Imogen’s spine.

The woman was struck again—several times in fast succession.

Imogen stared at the spectacle.

“You see,” Kane said. “She needs to be adored, cared for, taken through life by the man she loves. He needs to protect her, satisfy her, ensure that everything is perfect for her at all times. That is what makes him feel complete.”

“And that includes this. Beating?”

“Beating, spanking, flogging, whatever you want to call it, yes, it includes this, because that’s what they both enjoy, it’s their thing. It’s their kink.”

Kane went quiet and Imogen watched as Master Zen stood directly behind his sub. He appeared to fiddle at his groin then his pants loosened around his hips. He pushed forward.

The woman arched her back and her cry echoed around the room.

He reached for her shoulders, dragged her onto him.

“He’s…” Imogen said.

“Yes. He’s clearly very pleased with her. She’s getting exactly what she wants tonight.” Kane’s voice was low and husky, as though the sight was turning him on.

Imogen watched, fascinated as the Dom began to fuck his woman with urgency. The sub couldn’t move, she was strapped down, but he was moving for them. Thrusting in and out, hard, frantic, gripping her shoulders, her hair, her hips. His hands were all over her.

Imogen’s knickers dampened and she shifted within Kane’s arms.

“Would you like to get fucked like that?” Kane whispered.

Imogen half turned to him, his words a shock, despite where they were and what they were watching.21 spanked in stockings

“Tell me,” he said, cupping her cheek and holding her face. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I…” Imogen was breathing heavily. Fuck. What was she thinking? That she wanted to get fucked like that? She wanted to feel the flogger?

“Would you like to be her, on that table, with Master Zen taking you to the exquisite high she is rocketing towards right now?” Kane asked. “Red and sore, filled to the max? Nothing else in your mind except claiming that pleasure?”

She did, but it wasn’t Master Zen she wanted behind her, yanking her hair, scratching and marking her skin. Sinking deep, so deep. Filling her to bursting point.

It was Kane, or K as he was known here. It was him she wanted.

“Imogen,” Kane murmured, his mouth almost touching hers. “Talk to me.”

“Yes.” The word scratched from her throat. “But—”

He pressed his thumb over her lips, flattening them against her teeth. “No buts. Or if there are, tell me later.” He gave a brief smile. “Yes is enough.”

 

lily-harlem lipsAbout Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning, best-selling author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite, Ellora’s Cave and Sweetmeats Press. Her Hot Ice series regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Silk Tie, The Glass Knot and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set available exclusively on Amazon – The Novice, The Player and The Vixen – and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel ‘every woman should read’.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

meet the ward brothers

Lily Harlem Links

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/lily_harlem

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lily.harlem

Facebook author page https://www.facebook.com/LilyHarlemAuthor

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

Raw Talent http://rawtalentseries.co.uk

BritBabes http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk

Hockey Romance http://www.hockeyromance.com

Newsletter Subscription http://www.lilyharlem.com/newsletter-subscription.html

Hot Ice https://www.facebook.com/hoticeseries

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/106837751333678531161/posts

Harlem Dae http://www.harlemdae.com

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem

 

 

 

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Catch the Brit Babes’ Sexy Just Got Rich Blog Tour in its Entirety!

Miss the Sexy Just Got Rich Blog Tour? Here’s the links so you can catch up on all the gossip.

 

BBBillionaires

Find The Brit Babes at:

 
 
 
 
 
 

 

Sexy Just Got Rich Blurb:

Billionaires have it all but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to work hard to get what their hearts desire. In this brand
new anthology of erotic BDSM stories the Brit Babes offer heroes and heroines who aren’t shy about taking what they want. From farmyards to luxury penthouses, wealth is all about sating needs, connecting souls and taking pleasure to new highs. Whether you’re looking for a coffee break read or something longer to curl up in bed with, you’ll find something to suit your needs in Sexy Just Got Rich.

Buy Links: sexyjustgotrich cover

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

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Out Now – Multi-Orgasmic: A Collection of Erotic Short Stories by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #erotica #erotic #ebook #ku #kindleunlimited

multiorgasmicBlurb:

From the pen of award-winning erotica author Lucy Felthouse comes a collection of short stories and flash fiction sure to hit the spot.

There’s something for everyone nestling between the pages of this sexy anthology. From spanking to voyeurism, bondage to pegging, solo loving to ménage, with a sprinkling of femdom, maledom and magic, fans of M/F erotic stories will soon discover why this book is described as multi-orgasmic.

Enjoy twenty one titillating tales, over 52,000 words of naughtiness packed into one steamy read.

Please note: Many of the stories in this book have been previously published in anthologies and online, but three of the tales are brand new and never-seen-before!

Buy links:

 

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA

 

multiorgasmicgraphicExcerpt:

Private Jesse Bagnall glowered and muttered to himself all the way to the mess. He’d just been bawled out by Corporal Roxanne Grey—yet again—and he was getting seriously fed up of it. He knew he wasn’t perfect in the drill exercises, but then nor were any of the other guys. It was like she was singling him out and aiming all her abuse in his direction. Being shouted at was to be expected in the army—it was almost part of the job description—but Corporal Grey’s attitude was bordering on discriminatory, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Especially without looking like a total pussy.

Spotting some of his closest friends at a table towards the back of the mess, he caught the eye of one of them—Matt Kay—raised a hand in greeting, then got in line for his food.

Several minutes later he loaded his cup of tea onto his tray along with everything else and headed over to where he’d seen Matt and the boys. Hopefully they’d take his mind off the Queen Bitch. They were always game for a laugh.

“All right, lads?” he said, sliding his tray onto the table and taking a seat.

There were mumbles of assent.

“Yeah,” replied Ed Patterson. “You?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Ed raised an eyebrow, and the other men turned their attention to Jesse, too. “Well,” Ed said, “that wasn’t very convincing. What’s up, mate?”

Jesse sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s the drill instructor.”

His friends exchanged confused looks. “Care to elaborate?” Matt said.

Not wanting to look like a wimp in front of his mates, Jesse changed his tone. But once he had, the anger took over him. “She’s a fucking bitch, that’s what!”

The confused expressions turned to surprised ones.

“I’m fed up of her treating me like a twat. I know it’s her job to bawl us out, but she takes it too far. I do my fucking best, work my arse off, and it’s still not good enough for her.”

He barely noticed the gazes of his friends shifting slightly, and carried on regardless. “She definitely picks on me more than everyone else. As though I’ve seen sitting on my arse when everyone else is killing themselves to get it right. She’s just being a complete and utter bitch. Bitch face fucking Grey!”

Matt cleared his throat, to no avail.

“You know what her problem is?” Jesse continued. “She needs a fucking good shag, she does. That might cheer the miserable cow up. Mind you, Christ knows what man would be brave enough to go there. She’d probably bite your cock off as soon as suck it.”

As the red mist of his anger dissipated, Jesse finally clocked the reactions of the other men around his table. They weren’t at all what he’d expected. Ed and Matt looked mighty chagrined, staring at a point over his left shoulder. Private Graham Pilgrim had actually put his head down and begun to bang it on the table.

A cold trickle of dread ran down his back, and he turned, wondering which of his superiors had heard his rant.

Fuck. It was none other than the target of his diatribe.

Corporal Roxanne Grey stood, her arms crossed, one high-heeled foot tapping on the floor. Her facial expression was as far from impressed as it was possible to be.

Coolly, she said, “Bagnall. Guard room, now.”

Jesse’s heart sunk into his heavy-duty boots, and he had to resist the temptation to drop his gaze to the floor. His buddies would never let him live it down. He had to do as the woman said otherwise he’d be guilty of insubordination, but he was going to do it in the manliest way possible.

Turning back to the table, he sneaked a quick glance at each of his friends in turn, hoping his expression looked irritated, not shit scared, which was what he really was. Standing, he left his lunch tray where it was and followed Corporal Grey out of the mess, across the yard and into the scruffy-looking building that was the guard room. God, the government really needed to put some money into this place—it certainly didn’t give off the air of tough professionalism that the personnel were expected to show.

Opening the door, Corporal Grey stood aside and ushered him in, before following him and shutting the door behind them and twisting the lock. The room was empty. She moved to sit in a chair, and motioned him to take another one.

“I suppose you know why you’re here?”

“Yes, ma’am. My unforgiveable words and actions back in the mess.” Now it was just the two of them, he could grovel as much as he felt necessary without worrying about losing face.

“Hmm. Yes. But actually, it’s more the reasoning behind the words that I’m interested in.”

“W—what do you mean?”

“You mentioned that you feel like I pick on you, more than I do anyone else during drill instruction. As though you’re sitting on your arse, I do believe were your words.”

Jesse fought the colour coming to his face, and failed miserably. “Y—yes, ma’am.”

“Do I really make you feel that way? Or were you just having a whinge to your mates? Tell me honestly, please.”

The anger had gone from her tone, and her expression was open, expectant. She really and truly wanted him to be honest. He opened and closed his mouth—not unlike a fish—a couple of times, before clearing his throat and attempting to form an answer. It didn’t help that, now she’d stopped screaming at him and was actually being quite pleasant, he’d come to the conclusion that she was hot. Even in her army uniform, she looked feminine, as though she was hiding a delicious body underneath all that olive green.

“O—okay then. Yes, you do. Ever since you turned up to drill us in preparation for the parade, you’ve made me feel like a useless sack of shit. I know it’s important, God do I know, and I want to get it right, but I really am trying my best. I’m giving this my all, and it seems as though it’s just not good enough for you. Some of the other guys are worse than me, and you don’t come down on them like a ton of bricks. Maybe just half a ton.” He smiled weakly, hoping she’d realise he was joking.

A tiny smile played at the corners of the corporal’s lips. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you why I’m doing it? Shouting at you more than the others, I mean.”

“Um, I guess it depends on what you’re going to say. I’m really not as shit as some of the other guys.”

“I know. But…” She got to her feet and moved to stand in front of Jesse. Leaning down and placing her hands on the arms of his chair, she continued. “Let’s just say I’m trying not to let my true feelings show. If people found out how much I want you, I don’t think it would go down too well.”

“W—want me? You want me?” His heart pounded, and his brain raced to keep up with what she was saying. Did she really mean what he thought she meant? Was there a way he could have misunderstood her words? He didn’t think so. “You mean, like, want me in the sex way?” He knew his phrasing was ridiculous, but he couldn’t think of anything better right at that moment. His brain was too fried.

Corporal Grey laughed, her blue eyes sparkling as crinkles appeared in their corners. It was adorable and sexy all at once, and Jesse’s cock surprised him by hardening.

“Yes,” she said. “I mean in the sex way. But I guess you know now why I’ve been behaving the way I have? Can you forgive me? I didn’t mean to make you feel like a useless sack of shit. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I can forgive you. But only if you make it up to me.” It seemed his cock had taken over control of his mouth now, because as the words floated into the air, he realised he had no idea what he actually meant.

“Oh yeah?” Moving her hands to her hips, Corporal Grey adopted a saucy stance. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

Jesse cast his gaze about the room rapidly, hoping for inspiration. Thankfully, he spotted something that would serve his purpose perfectly. Standing, he gently pushed past her and retrieved the pace stick that was propped up in the corner. Designed for marking time in parades and similar, when it was open it formed a ‘V’ shape; closed it was just a wooden stick. One he could use to get his own back on Corporal Grey. And he really had to stop thinking of her as Corporal Grey, especially considering what he was about to do. She was Roxanne.

Turning back to her, he stifled a grin when he saw the look on her face. She obviously hadn’t been expecting that. Pointing to a nearby table, he commanded, “Pull your skirt up to your waist and bend over.”

“O—okay.”

She sounded nervous, and he didn’t blame her. Frankly, he was surprised she’d agreed. He was wielding quite an interesting weapon, and she was going to allow him to use it on her. Perhaps she was into a bit of pain. He’d soon find out.

Following her to the table, he waited while she summoned her courage, then lifted her skirt. His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his close-cropped hairline when he saw the skimpy black thong that had been hidden beneath her drab skirt. It bisected lovely pale, round bum cheeks, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to pull the material aside and bury his cock in her warm depths.

First, though, Roxanne had some making up to do. “Ready?”

Pressing her hands to the surface of the table, she nodded quickly.

Jesse moved into the position he thought best and waved the pace stick around a little, to get used to the way it moved and balanced. He’d never spanked a woman before, never mind with one of these things. God knows why he’d even suggested it. She probably thought he was some kind of kinky bastard, now. Never mind, it was just a bit of fun.

 

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

 

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© 2015 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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