It’s nearly party time for To Rome with Lust, the latest novel in The Mount Series! Preorders have been fantastic, and I’m elated to see so many people as anxious to read Rome as I am to launch it into the world! As always, my readers are the best!!! Though the official release date is 4th December, There’s all kinds of fun and excitement beforehand. I love planning a good party, don’t you? SO Here are the details of how you can get an early taste of Rome and help launch my latest into the world.
That’s right, To Rome with Lust will be causing a storm on launch day, and I’m hoping all of you lovely readers will help make it a mega-storm. I’ve launched a Thunderclap campaign for To Rome with Lust. I would love it very much if you would support my campaign, by following the link and clicking the prompts for Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr or all three. All this means is a wee message promoting Rome will appear on your social media page of choice on the 4th of December, launch day. And I will prostrate myself before the Goddess of all Naughtiness in supplication for much sexy, filthy frolic and fun in you lives, as well as lots of good reads. Follow the link and kindle the storm!
Advance Reader Review Copies of To Rome with Lust!
If you don’t want to wait until the 4th of December to read To Rome with Lust, I have ten ARC downloads of Rome available in exchange for an honest review on Amazon, Good Reads and wherever else you’d like to review it. If you’re interested in an early frolic with Liza and Paulo at the Mount in Rome, then contact me through the contact form on my website with your request and an email address you’d like me to use to send out your copy. Remember, there are a limited number of copies.
To Tease and Titillate
Aaaand! Just to keep you salivating and fanning yourselves, here is a very hot excerpt from To Rome with Lust. Enjoy! xxx
Book three of The Mount trilogy (Click here for Book One | Book Two)
The 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.
Excerpt To Rome with Lust:
It was only when Liza found the strength to get to her feet and tiptoe into the room that she got the whole picture. The flint and steal male heat, the driving force of the olfactory story unfolding before her nose was not the man kneeling between the woman’s legs, but another man, a man sitting in a ladder back chair, turned front to back so that his long jean-clad legs were splayed on either side. His feet were bare and he was naked from the waist up. His face was silhouetted and lost in shadow. His tattooed muscular arms were draped over the back of the chair as he surveyed the couple on the bed. ‘Hold your wad, Vittorio,’ he called out. ‘You’ll come when I say you can come, when I say Chiara can come. Maybe I’ll let her come and make you hold it. I wonder just how full your sac will get, just how hard your cock will get if I make you watch me fuck her. Hmmm?’
Crack! The end of the bullwhip that Liza hadn’t noticed in the man’s hand snapped out so quickly and so perfectly controlled across Vittorio’s bare arse that Liza didn’t have time to force back her cry.
‘Stop!’ The man said as she turned to run. And in spite of the hair raising along the back of her bare neck, in spite of the fear tightening her belly in a cold metal clench, she obeyed.
‘Ask Vittorio how the whip across his bare arse feels before you consider running.’ He said all of that without looking at her, but Vittorio’s eyes and the wide mascara-darkened eyes of Chiara were on her.
She stood unmoving. It was not the scent of fear rising from her pores that made her knees weak. It was the forest fire inferno of lust rolling off the man in the chair in waves that were nearly physical.
‘Come here,’ he said, still not looking at her.
Did lust always overcome fear? She didn’t know, but it certainly seemed to be doing just that for her as she moved in steps she was hardly aware of toward the man with the whip, sniffing as she went.
‘In this dungeon, I’m the audience, woman. I don’t need any help with that task.’ He still hadn’t looked at her. His grip on the handle of the whip tightened, but the cinnamon scent of his curiosity curled itself around the inferno of lust, and she knew he wouldn’t hit her, at least not just yet.
‘Liza Calendar, I presume.’ He said, still toying with the handle of the bullwhip.
‘Yes.’ Her voice came out rough and throaty as though she had forgotten how to use it.
He threw back his head and laughed, having no trouble finding the resonant fullness of his own voice. In the flickering light of the wall sconces his hair looked like burnt copper, curled around his ears and low on his neck in the dampness of his own dark wood-scented perspiration. ‘At last I meet the one everyone is speaking of in hushed tones, the Nose.’ Before she could respond, his arm darted out and snaked around her, pulling her down on his knee into the heat of his body. ‘So tell me, Nose, what do you smell?’ Before she could say anything, his hand fisted in her hair, and he pulled her to his mouth, nipping at her lips until they opened, until his tongue could battle its way in and steal her breath. When he pulled away, breathing hard enough for both of them, he said again. ‘What do you smell?’
‘I smell burnt sugar and the spark just before a flame, and smoke on dark wood. I smell dry summer earth and cloves and sunbaked grass. I smell –’
He kissed her again, and lifted her in one arm while he shifted the chair around with the other, making a loud scrape of wooden legs against stone before he shoved up her skirt and settled her a straddle the heavy press of his hard-on through his jeans. ‘My nose may not be as sophisticated as
yours, but I smell your pussy,’ he said, rocking and raking himself up against the crotch of panties she knew were wet. He dropped his face into her cleavage and bit. ‘And I smell your lust.’ Then as if she weighed nothing he shifted her around so that she still sat on his lap but she could see the
couple on the bed in front of them.
‘Chiara, Vittorio, this is Liza Calendar, Martelli Fragrance’s new nose, and I think it would be really welcoming of us if we let her smell you two fucking, don’t you?’
They both nodded wide-eyed.
As the two began to fuck, the man beneath Liza shifted and rocked against the damp crotch of her panties until she could feel the shape of his hard-on rubbing a wet trough between her labia. She had hardly been aware of her own shifting and rocking until his heavy hand moved up under her the slit of her gown and began stroke and tweak her clit.
‘Don’t. Please don’t,’ she whispered. ‘I’m here with someone.’
My oh my! Where has the time gone? Was it really four years ago today that The Initiation of Ms Holly strutted its way into the world? On the one hand it seems like only yesterday. On the other, ten novels, written under two different pseudonyms, four novellas, and multiple short stories later, it seems like a lifetime ago.
At the moment, The Initiation of Ms Holly is getting the best birthday present a novel could ask for, and that’s great sales! Holly has been at the top of the Amazon UK BDSM Erotica chart, hanging it at position number one or number two for almost a month. Go Holly! There seems to be something about the story, with its inspiration coming from the experience my husband and I had being stranded in a train for four and a half hours in the tunnel under the English Chanel in the Eurostar, and its roots based in a modern retelling of the mythical tale of Psyche and Eros that keeps drawing people back.
The thing is, Holly almost didn’t make it to publication. Remember back in the day when Black Lace closed its doors? Yup! Holly was there just waiting for the editor to say yea or ne. After that huge disappointment, she was turned down by another publisher before she found a happy home at Xcite Books, who have kept me busily writing totally fun and filthy stories ever since The Initiation of Ms Holly has been through three printings, and the US version was even bought from Xcite by Source Books, which means Holly has also been through three covers – all of them gorgeous, and I doubt if there is a scene in any of my books that gets more comments and more demands for readings than the filthy bike-tastic Harley scene.
As I watch my first born do me proud again and again, I am very pleased to say that her sequel, Fulfilling the Contract, with its splashy theme of Vegas voyeurism, is also making me proud, and I’m chuffed to bits to say that pre-orders for the third book in The Mount Series, To Rome with Lust have already popped the book into the charts. Excited much? What started with Rita and Edward, then progressed to Elsa and Nick, and back to the original Mount in Rome for book three with Liza and Paulo. Will there be more Mount novels to come? We’ll see, but I must say I found New York very inspiring, and I’m sure there is a raunchy tale about the New York Mount just waiting to be told.
Yup! My little girl is now all grown up and a world traveler. I couldn’t be prouder. I don’t mind saying I was terrified on that launch day four years ago. Me! A published novelist! Scared for my baby, scared for me, wondering if I could write another one, wondering if everyone else would love Holly as much as I did. Those were nail-biting days as well as happy, proud, exciting days, with a fantastic launch at Sh! Women’s Emporium filled with some of my favourite writers and lots of truly amazing people to help me celebrate; with a signing at Erotica, with readings in multiple venues, including the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas, and with good sales, as Xcite gave me the go-ahead to write my second novel, The Pet Shop.
Ten novels in four years. I’ve had little time for much else, but wow! Has it been fun! Holly was the exciting beginning of a dream come true – me being a real novelist with books to write and stories to tell that people would buy and read and share with their friends. I love it as much now as I did then. Even though there have been hard times and challenges a long the way, the joy of watching the story in my head unfold on the written page never diminishes. Holly has been and still continues to be the book that keeps on keeping on. She’s filthy, she’s sassy, she’s romantic, she’s a modern-day myth that sizzles, and she still is and always will be my first born.
Happy Birthday Holly! You make me proud!
Holly walks across England with Raymond and me
Drop by my blog to say hi on Holly’s birthday and I’ll send you a ‘party favour’ – not a funny hut, not a party whistle, but something fun and filthy. *tosses confetti into the air and lifts glass of fizz in salute*
Journalist, 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.
Birthday Excerpt From The Initiation of Ms Holly (The naughty Harley excerpt. Yup, that’s the one!
In the privacy of her lounge, she opened the box to discover a black leather cat-suit heavily weighted with zippers, snaps, chains and other pieces of metal which made Rita shiver to even contemplate. She was pretty sure the suit weighed as much as she did. The costume was complete with thigh high boots, a bomber jacket, and a hand-written note that read:
Don’t touch, don’t fondle, and don’t experiment. Just put on the suit and nothing else, then wait for me. Morgan
Visions of the high councilman with the leopard tattoo flashed through her head – and her cunt.
Morgan needn’t have worried that she would experiment or play with the suit, and certainly not that she might put something on under it. There was barely room for skin under it. With the efforts of a contortionist and a fair amount of cursing out loud, she finally got it up over her hips and shoulders, but thoughts of zipping it above her navel made her break out in a cold sweat.
She didn’t have to wait long before there was a soft knock on the door. A glance through the peep hole assured her that it was Morgan. The intriguing tattoo was completely covered in black leather, all topped off with a heavy bomber jacket. She opened the door just enough to let him in.
Immediately his brown sugar gaze took in the unzipped front of the suit and the way her arms were folded protectively over her breasts.
She blushed hard. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m –’
‘Claustrophobic. Yes I know, kitten.’ She noticed the tiniest bit of Western twang. ‘Edward threatened me about it ad nauseam downstairs just now. That’s what took me so long.’
Her heart suddenly leaped into her throat. ‘Edward’s downstairs?’
‘Well, he was. I sent him home. I’m here now, luv, and I promised I’d take good care of you.’
She tried to sound matter-of-fact. ‘How long had he been down there?’
‘Ever since he got your text about someone spying on you.’
‘Why didn’t he come up?’
Holly launch with Kay Jaybee and Lucy Felthouse celebrating at Sh!
He held her gaze. ‘Sweet cheeks, you know why he didn’t come up.’ He changed the subject. ‘Now about this lovely suit. Just let me help you with it, and you’ll see why it’s so perfect for someone who suffers from your affliction.’
She struggled to drag her thoughts back from Edward as Morgan coaxed her arms away from her chest and released a long sigh at the sight of her breasts barely covered by the unzipped front of the cat suit. ‘Oh we’re gonna have so much fun.’ He covered her lips in an open mouth kiss that tasted of caramel and coffee. His tongue flicked across her hard palate and wrestled lightly with hers. He slipped his right hand inside the cat suit to cup her breast and raked a thumb over her heavy nipple. Then he rolled it against his index finger until the pinch of it was so close to pain that she held her breath waiting for it. Or was it pleasure she waited for?
Morgan’s chuckle was hot against her mouth. ‘You’re so full of anticipation, kitten, so full of needs you don’t even know about yet. I smell it on you, all of it and more.’ He lowered his mouth to her nape and bit. And she definitely felt pain, but her pussy felt something a whole lot nicer.
Then as though he were about his everyday business, he began to fiddle with the chains on the front of the suit. She could see little of what he was doing, but she could hear a snap here and a chink there and occasionally feel the cool metal against her sternum. At last he pulled away and inspected his work.
Where the zipper would have confined her tits into a breathless hug, there was a loose lacing of chain linked and criss-crossed bustier-fashion revealing the mounds of her breasts while concealing nipple and areola. ‘There,’ he breathed. ‘That’s better, isn’t it?’
He walked around behind her to take in the over-all effect. ‘Ever ridden a Harley?’
‘Motorcycle? No.’
‘Don’t look so frightened, sweetness. I’ve been riding since I was a pup.’ His lips curled into an edible smile. ‘I promise I’ll make it good for you.’
He knelt and helped her into the boots, lingering to suckle her toes and kiss her insteps before guiding her feet into the soft insides then slowly zipping them up and up and up. At last he stood and held the bomber jacket for her. ‘Our steed awaits.’
Outside a few neighbourhood teenagers had gathered around to admire the biggest, sleekest vintage Hog Rita had ever seen, complete with silver wings painted stylistically across the petrol tank along with the words, Pegasus III. It took her a few seconds to realise that the boys’ attention had shifted away from the Harley. ‘Could we please go,’ she whispered, feeling like she did in her dreams when she found herself suddenly naked at the office or in the queue at Sainsbury’s.
But Morgan took his time buckling her into the helmet, making sure it wasn’t too tight, making certain she wasn’t claustrophobic. When she started to get on behind him, he shook his head, scooted back slightly and patted the leather seat in front of him.
She balked. ‘Isn’t that illegal?’
‘Not if we don’t get caught.’ He patted the spot in front of him again and chuckled. ‘Trust me. It’s the best seat in the house.’
Trying to ignore the mutterings and the stares of the teenagers, she climbed on the Harley in front of him, a little less gracefully than she had planned. Fortunately the resulting blush was contained within the helmet.
Morgan knew only one speed and that was suicidal. The g-force of acceleration strong-armed her back against his chest with a yelp that was fortunately drowned by the roar of the Hog. It seemed to her that Morgan was taking the fastest way out of town, weaving in and out of traffic with such terrifying manoeuvres that she feared heart failure was imminent. They had only gone a few blocks when she gave up shouting at him to stop. He either couldn’t hear, or was ignoring her.
As the traffic lessened, and he headed out on the A3, she realised he was controlling the Hog with one hand. The other arm was wrapped low around her waist. There was an electronic crackle next to her ear, and his voice filled the inside of her helmet. They had contact. ‘Just relax, sweetness. This is gonna be so good.’
His hand slid lower on her belly until it rested against her pubic bone where it began to fumble until she felt a tug and a zip, and suddenly cool air bathed a horizontal swath of flesh exposed to the night. ‘I love zippers. Don’t you?’ His voice was like a kiss against her earlobe.
There was more tugging and zipping until she felt the pressure of the cat suit lessen against her crotch, as though she had just split her trousers. She caught her breath.
Reading at the EAA conference in the Erotic Museum in Las Vegas
‘Mmm, there. Oh that’s nice.’ His voice was inside her helmet again just before his fingers slid down between her folds and pressed up into her in such a way that the vibration of the big bike beneath them seemed amplified as though it were a giant vibrator. She was suddenly in danger of forgetting that she was in danger of losing life and limb. My God, the bloke’s fingers were expressive as he slipped the middle one deep into her cunt while his thumb raked her pebble-hard clit.
He swerved to pass a lorry. ‘We’re gonna die!’ she yelped inside her helmet. Then she bore down against his hand and the vibration of the Hog, hoping he could keep from crashing until after she came.
She didn’t know if he had heard her yelp, but she wondered if he’d heard her thoughts. ‘Lift your bottom,’ his velvety voice filled her helmet again.
Visiting the Dudley Libraries with Kay Jaybee
‘Are you crazy?’ She gasped.
‘Trust me. Lift your bottom. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe. I promised Edward, didn’t I?’
She held her breath, cursing between her teeth, and struggled to do as he said. She grabbed on to the petrol tank until she was sure her fingernails would dig holes in the paint. Then she squealed as another zipping loosened the hug of the cat suit even further until she was certain the whole crotch of the garment had been zipped away. As if to confirm her suspicions, Morgan’s large hand now stroked her from behind, spreading her lips.
‘Sweet Jesus, you’re slippery, kitten. I believe you really like riding a Hog.’ Then she felt him inch forward on the seat.
He wouldn’t … Surely he couldn’t … ‘Oh my God,’ she gasped. What was crowding against her bottom and nestling up to her pout was too thick and too stiff to be his finger.
‘That’s my girl,’ came the voice in her helmet. ‘Lift your bottom for me. Just a tiny bit more now. Almost there. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.’ He tightened his arm around her and manoeuvred his hips. ‘That’s it, oh yes that’s the place I want to be. Jesus, Rita Holly, that’s some hot pussy you got there.’ Then all she could hear was accelerated breathing followed by a hard thrust that nearly sent her over the handle bars but for the strong arm wrapped around her. And he was in. Her pussy felt like it would split in two from the sudden, unexpected fullness.
‘That’s my girl. Now lean forward. All the way forward and let the Hog do the work. She felt him change down, and the beast rumbled beneath them. With the substantial length of him so far up inside her, she felt physically compelled to lean forward over the petrol tank until she could feel the cool chains of the cat suit pressing into her bare flesh, until her erect nipples felt like they’d drill clear through the tank.
Then with a hard thrust, Morgan scooted forward again, and she heard him sigh. After that the thrusting and manoeuvring became much more
subtle, using the power of the Harley roaring beneath them as the driving force. He had positioned himself perfectly so that each undulation of his hips drove her distended clit against the vibrating leather of the seat. My God, she thought, it was a brilliant way to die.
ETO Awards with Brit Babes, Tabitha Rayne, Lexie Bay, Kay Jaybee & Victoria Blisse
His breath was soft little grunts inside her helmet coming faster and faster until she thought he must have stopped breathing altogether. The
movement of his groin against her became less and less, all the while building in intensity until each minuscule shifting penetrated up her spine clear into the crown of her head, until she was certain the imminent orgasm would surely explode her brain.
When his ejaculation erupted inside her, she felt as though his cock had suddenly expanded to fill the entire space within her pelvic girdle, and her own orgasm tightened and gripped on him until he cried out.
She would have surely catapulted off the Hog with the double explosion in her pussy had Morgan not held her tightly with his free arm, as they sped down the A3 toward the Guildford exit.
*****
Don’t forget to comment for a raunchy party favour and help Holly celebrate
Welcome to instalment 3 in my End of Summer Beginnings Posts! As everyone is frantically trying to fit in one last dose of the summer sun and a smidge more holiday before autumn is upon us, I thought it was time for a bit of temptation. One of the best parts of summer holidays is a good read to match the summer sizzle, so with that in mind, for the next two weeks, I’m sharing First Chapters of all my novels. Today I’m sharing more filthy romantic fun K D Grace, Grace style with chapter 1 from Fulfilling the Contract,book two of The Mount Series. Enjoy! (Follow hyper-links to learn more and to find buy-links)
Limo 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?
Fulfilling the Contract
Chapter 1
Letting his cock do the thinking was never advised, Nick Chase thought as he pulled Tanya – what was her last name? Something Slavic – through the back door of the bar and into the desert swelter in the alley, kissing and groping as he went.
‘Fuck me here,’ she gasped, managing for a split second to take her delicious tongue out of his mouth. ‘Is sexy here, outside. You have the condom, no?’
‘No, I mean yes, I have a condom, but I’m not having sex with you in the alley.’ He grabbed her hand and pulled her fast around the end of the building. ‘My car’s over here.’ He nodded to the black Lincoln Town Car parked in the shadow of the building.
‘You drive limo?’ she asked. Did he imagine the disappointment in her voice?
‘I own a limo, several in fact,’ he corrected. What the hell, was he bragging to get laid? How adolescent was that? Was he really that desperate? Forget desperate. It was compensation he was after. The night had gone straight down the crapper early on, and he deserved something nice to make up for it.
His last fare had had a heart attack in the back of his limo while banging a woman half his age. Okay, people using his limo for sex was something he’d didn’t get his boxers in a knot over. This was Vegas. But heart attacks, even minor ones, those were boxer knotting experiences, experiences that didn’t do his heart a lot of good either! The woman who caused the man’s melt-down had bailed at the first stoplight like they were in some shoot-em-up film. It might have been funny if she hadn’t left Nick to rush Casanova to the emergency room. There he’d waited until the angry wife arrived several hours, and what would have been several good fares, later. He figured a minor heart attack was nothing compared to what the man would get from his wife when she got him home. Nick didn’t mind being a good Samaritan, but when a man twice his age and three times his weight got a good hard riding in the back of his limo, while he was reduced to slapping the sausage when he actually had time to be horny, it was hard to be sympathetic.
If that wasn’t bad enough, he left the hospital to find that his limo had been towed. By the time he’d found out where it was, paid a taxi to get him there and paid the fine to release it, he was pissed off, tired, and $300 poorer for his night’s efforts. Feeling pretty damned sorry for himself, he’d stopped at the Mango on the way home for a much-needed drink. He couldn’t actually drink anything stronger than a Coke and drive on home, but home was a fair ways yet and, at least, some caffeine was in order. That’s where he met Tanya. She was a busty blond with eyes the colour of toffee and a sexy Slavic accent that stirred him right in the crotchial area. She sat down on the stool next to him offering him a kick-ass smile as she ordered a cosmopolitan. At first he wondered if she were a hooker. But when she ignored the attentions of the guy on the other side of her and politely hinted that she wasn’t interested, Nick figured she was just a tourist who either got lost or got adventurous. And when the man wouldn’t take the hint, it was Mr Good Samaritan to the rescue again.
‘Hey buddy, she’s with me.’ Nick offered a don’t-want-any-trouble sort of smile, to which the guy lifted his hands in response, mumbled an apology and took his beer over to the slot machines.
Three cokes, two strong coffees and several cosmos later and Nick had forgotten all about his ambulance run. In fact, he’d forgotten all about everything except Tanya. He’d like to say it was her accent, or the fact that she was a good conversationalist, and both were true. But honestly, it was Tanya’s well-displayed cleavage that had his full attention.
‘If you want a real drink,’ she said, ‘is no problem. ‘You order it. I will take it in my mouth, swish it all around. And then I will kiss it into your mouth. Like this.’ She demonstrated with a mouthful of cosmo and a cranberry flavoured lip lock that had his cock hard-pressed in his jeans. She came up smacking her lips. ‘And that way you will get the flavour and I will get the alcohol.’
‘Tanya, I could do that all night, but I think your science is flawed. I’d be both drunk and horny and I’d have to call a taxi to get both of us home.’
‘Is true. I swear,’ she said. Then she offered him a wicked smile. ‘As for the horny part, well, is a side effect of the procedure, I’m afraid.’
That was when he dive-bombed her mouth with his, coming up breathless as her hand snaked up the inside of his thigh, and he returned the favor by toying with the hem of her curve hugging mini dress, all bright with the sort of tropical print Vegas tourists often wore.
The flirting became foreplay as she opened her legs to give him a glimpse of a skimpy red thong before sliding to the edge of the barstool and pulling his hand up against the triangle of fabric moistening next her goodies. Her cherry red nails made less than gentle scratching motions against his fly as his mouth found hers once more and, after another serious wrestling match with her tongue, he pulled her from the stool and practically dragged her toward the back door, groping as they went.
The parking lot was full of expensive cars, and two things quickly became clear. Tanya had had a few more comos than necessary for an alcoholic buzz. And Tanya had a car fetish. ‘Oooh! A Humvee! She squealed. And before he could stop her, she raced over to the vehicle. That was no small feat in her outrageously high heels, and even more astonishingly, she actually stepped out of her red thong as she did so. Then she hoiked her skirt and hopped onto the hood of the black Humvee that was waxed to an eye-dazzling sheen even in the glow of the streetlights. Once she was up, her heels clunk clunking on the waxed surface, she spread her legs wide and squatted, giving him a tantalizing view of her pussy before she arched her back and thrust her hips forward in just such a way that said pussy was up-close and personal with said wax job giving it … well a wax job. ‘Bože! Oh bože! Is good,’ she moaned. ‘Is so good! Come! Join me’
‘Jesus, Tanya! Get off there! Come down from there,’ he hissed, anxiously stooping to pick up the shed panties and stuffing them into his pocket. Three men came out of the bar and got an eye full when Tanya chose that moment to flash her very excellent tits from her position high atop the hood of the Humvee.
The men made no attempt to look away and Tanya made no attempt hide what she had. And Nick had to admit that in the competition between his very impressed cock and the fear of getting arrested as an accessory to Tanya’s indecent exposure, his cock was winning, hands down. ‘Come on, come down here. Now!’ He gave another look around the parking lot and offered her his hand. Giggling loudly, she took it and slid, open-legged, off the Humvee leaving a very wet path right down the centre of the hood that left no doubt as to what had caused it. From there she launched herself at him mouth first, with her magnificent and still uncovered tits, not far behind.
‘Ooooh! There’s a Porsche. I love Porsches.’
Nick figured if the Humvee made her wet the Porsche would probably give her multiples, but he wasn’t risking another scene. He kept his arm around her waist and half escorted, half carried her to the limo. Before he could get the door unlocked she spat on her hands and slathered her nipples with a good dose of saliva. Then she gave the driver’s side window the full-frontal rub-up. Tit prints. Nick had tit prints on the window of his limo. Looking rather pleased with her art work, Tanya leaned on the back door fingering herself while he unlocked.
‘Do the people ever have sex in your limo when you are driving them?’
‘Yup.’ He decided not to tell her about his last unpleasant experience.
‘Oooh, is sexy!’ She managed a grope at his fly and rubbed up against him before he opened the back door and push her in, with her pulling him in on top. ‘Do you watch them in your mirror?’ She asked, tugging loose his belt and going to work on his fly. ‘Do they sometimes make you come?’
‘Not so far, no.’
She made a tut-tut sound with her tongue before she slipped it back in his mouth. ‘Do they ever ask you to join them?’ She slurred the words across his lips.
‘I’ve had offers,’ he managed, pulling away far enough to tug at a delicious mouthful of nipple. ‘Wouldn’t be very professional me joining the orgy, though, would it?’
‘Spoil sport.’ She offered him a pout before she squirmed out from under him, and slid down his body to take his very agreeable cock into her mouth. And wow, could the woman suck cock! Her throat was seriously deep and her grip was tight enough to suck the paint of a mop handle. And her tongue, holy Christ on a pogo stick, her tongue was warm and wet and all over the place. He curled his fingers in the masses of blond hair while she sucked and licked his cock like it was the best lolly pop ever. Her skirt was still hiked up over her hips exposing the shift and grind, shift and grind of her pert little ass as she rode her hand like a rocking horse. And the door was still open!
The smell of her pussy filled the dry desert air with a humid sea scent of female heat, and he could almost make out the wet sounds of her fingers dancing over her snatch above the slurping and licking of her tight mouth. But as delicious as her mouth was, it was her pussy he wanted. And she must have read his mind because just as he reached for the condom in his pocket, she came up gasping and wiping her mouth.
‘Fuck me. Please fuck me, Nick. I need you to fuck me now.’
It was all he could do to hold her off until he got suited up for business, and then she shoved onto him so hard that she left him gasping for breath and grabbing her hips in self-preservation, at least until he caught her rhythm. And then he let her ride him hard.
‘You’re cock is so good. It fits so tight up in my pussy,’ she half whispered. ‘I need to come, Nick, I need to come so bad, so bad.’
As much as he wanted to knead and caress her luscious breasts, he couldn’t bring himself to shove her hands away from the filthy mauling she was giving them. Her nipples were engorged like fat cherry gumdrops that made his mouth water. Surely it must hurt the way she pinched and tugged and squeezed.
He raked the nib of her clit until it pearled and jutted from under its hood and raked back against his finger, wet from the flood of her juices lubricating his sheathed cock. ‘Is hard. My clit is so hard,’ she sighed. ‘And my pussy is eating your cock like hungry mouth.’
Yup, it was doing that alright, and very well getting the job done. One last stroke of her clit and her orgasm broke in a vice-grip clench on his cock. ‘I’m coming! I’m coming!’ She keened just as two more men stepped out – probably to take a piss in the alley, but they only registered as a minor distraction because Tanya’s tight grip and bounce and her orgasmic tremors along his cock had Nick coming too. Tanya’s spasms milked every last drop from him, and it was a lot. He was amazed there weren’t broken bones or pulled muscles for their efforts.
He had just disposed of the condom and she was wiping herself clean with the box of tissue he kept in the back of the Town Car when another limo pulled up way too close for politeness considering there was plenty of room in the parking lot.
At the sight of it, Tanya cried out, and it wasn’t with the delight she’d had over the Humvee. She tossed the wad of tissue she’d been using and turned to run just as a man the size of a small freight train stepped out and grabbed her by the arm. ‘You need to come with us, Tanya.’
‘No! No! Don’t let them take me, Nick. Please don’t let them take me.’ She hammered ineffectually on the man’s chest. ‘Leave me alone. I haven’t done anything wrong. I haven’t.’
‘Did you fuck him?’ The man asked, in a voice that seemed way too soft for anyone that size. When she began to sob, the man simply shook his head and helped her into the open limo. ‘You can explain everything to Elsa when you get home.’
And Nick attacked. Well it wasn’t much of an attack. The man just shrugged him off and pressed him up against the hood of his own limo with one beefy hand. ‘This is not your concern, Mr. Chase.’
‘It is if she doesn’t want to go, besides … How do you know my name?’ Nick didn’t strain against the man’s stiff arm hold. He knew it wouldn’t help. ‘She doesn’t want to go,’ he said as if repeating it louder would send the big man packing in fear. Jesus! Where was his sense of self-preservation? Was he out of his mind? This could be mafia, maybe this man was her pimp. Hell, he knew thinking with his cock was a bad idea. ‘I’ll call the cops,’ he threatened.
The man raised an unimpressed eyebrow. ‘And tell them what? Tanya’s drunk. And when she’s drunk she becomes a drama queen. She shouldn’t be here and she knows it. I’m just taking her home. That’s all. And I’d advise you to stay out of it.’ He gave Nick a half-hearted warning shove before he got back in the car and drove away with Tanya yelling. ‘Please Nick! Don’t let them take me! I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you!’
And Nick, stupid man that he was, hopped in his limo and followed.
Welcome to instalment 3 in my End of Summer Beginnings Posts! As everyone is frantically trying to fit in one last dose of the summer sun and a smidge more holiday before autumn is upon us, I thought it was time for a bit of temptation. One of the best parts of summer holidays is a good read to match the summer sizzle, so with that in mind, for the next two weeks, I’m sharing First Chapters of all my novels. Today I’m sharing more filthy romantic fun K D Grace, Grace style with chapter 1 from The Initiation of Ms Hollybook one of The Mount Series. Enjoy! (Follow hyper-links to learn more and to find buy-links)
Journalist, 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.
The Initiation of Ms Holly
Chapter 1
HE PRACTICALLY FELL ON top of Rita, his hand grazing her left breast in the complete darkness. She yelped and grabbed him to keep from losing her balance.
‘God, I’m sorry!’ He gasped. ‘Bloody nuisance, this, isn’t it?’ His voice was warm, melodious, by far the most pleasant thing that had happened to Rita since she left Paris. ‘Oh dear. You’re trembling. Are you all right?’
‘I’m claustrophobic.’ Her words were thin and shaky, as though she didn’t fully trust herself to let them out. ‘It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t know where we are.’ For an embarrassing moment, she realised she was still clinging to him, but the embarrassment passed, and suddenly she didn’t care. If they were going to die trapped in a train in the Eurostar tunnel, buried beneath a gazillion gallons of water, she’d just as soon not do it alone.
He either understood, or was too polite to leave her in such distress. He wrapped his arms around her engulfing her in a muscular embrace, the scent of which was maleness barely masked by deodorant and some spicy cologne, both fading at the end of a day much longer than either of them had anticipated. ‘Don’t worry.’ In the darkness, he misjudged the distance between them and his lips brushed her earlobe. ‘It’s just an electrical malfunction. Anyway we’re better off down here than in the snowstorm up above. Sounds like all London is shut down. Who’d have expected snow this late in the spring? Never mind that, where else do
you get the chance to cuddle strangers in the dark?’
He pressed a little closer to her, and she was relieved to find other thoughts, thoughts more welcome than those of their predicament, pushing their way into her head. He felt
good, broad-shouldered and tall, easy to lean on.
‘Why are you huddled here in the corner rather than
hunkered down in your seat?’
She concentrated on his warm breath pressing against the
top of her ear. ‘I was on my way back from the loo when the lights went out and …’
‘And this is as far as you got.’
She nodded against his chest, honing in on the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.
‘Shall I help you back to your seat then?’
The train lurched forward, and she yelped again, tightening her grip around his neck. ‘No, please. It’s better if I just don’t move.’
There was a long pause. ‘Do you want me to stay with you?’
She realised the poor man had little choice clenched in her strangle hold, as he was. ‘I don’t want to be any trouble,’ she lied.
He readjusted his stance and tightened his embrace. ‘No trouble at all. I can’t think of a better way to pass the time than in the arms of a beautiful woman. You are beautiful, aren’t you?’
In spite of the stress she felt, she forced a laugh. ‘Gorgeous, actually. Too bad you can’t see for yourself.’
He ran a hand down the contour of her spine to rest low on the small of her back. ‘I don’t have to see you to admire you.’
The thought that the man was rather cheeky barely crossed her mind before he lifted her fingers to his lips and planted a warm kiss across the back of her knuckles. ‘I’m Edward. I’m from London. Clearly you’re not.’
‘Rita,’ she replied. ‘I’m from Seattle, but I live in London now.’
‘Well Rita, from Seattle, we’ve established that you’re an exotic beauty. Perhaps you’d like to return the favour.’ He lifted her hand to his face and guided it gently over the slight stubble of his cheek. As her hand cupped his well-formed chin, he pulled her middle finger into his mouth and nibbled it, teasing the pad of it with his tongue. Suddenly her struggle to breathe had nothing to do with being claustrophobic.
‘Well?’ He asked pulling her hand away to massage her fingers. ‘What do you think? Am I acceptable?’
If he was cheeky, she was downright brazen. She stopped his words with her mouth, amazed at how easily she had found the mark in total darkness. Perhaps it was the darkness that made her so bold, but, whatever it was, he didn’t disappoint. His mouth was warm, opening eagerly to the probing of her tongue, responding in kind, caressing her hard palate, nipping at the fullness of her lower lip before pulling away just enough to speak.
‘There, you see? It’s not so bad being in the dark, is it? The other senses are too often overlooked, which is very sad, since they offer such exquisite delights.’ His hand moved up to cup her cheek, and he raked a thumb across her still parted lips. ‘Taste, for example. Few pleasures exceed that of the tongue.’
She heard him fumbling in the darkness, then she heard the rattling of foil. ‘Open your mouth,’ he whispered. ‘I have something that’ll make you feel better, guaranteed. Oh don’t worry, it’s nothing illegal.’
Reluctantly she opened her mouth, which he primed with a wet kiss, then slipped a chocolate truffle between her lips. It was covered liberally in cocoa and warmed exquisitely almost, but not quite, to the steamy melting point of his body temperature, which only enhanced the sharp, edgy
flavour that separates expensive chocolate from the cheap stuff.
She gasped her surprise, then moaned softly at the intensity of the taste.
‘Don’t bite,’ he kissed her jaw, then her throat. ‘Savour it, roll it around in your mouth. There are places on the tongue that taste only sweet and places that taste only bitter or salt, or sour. Chocolate can have all those flavours. Caress it in your mouth like you’re making love to it, and you’ll be amazed at what you taste.’
She cheeked the truffle, slurring her words as she spoke. ‘I thought I was tasting you.’
He chuckled softly. ‘Everything tastes better with chocolate.’ Without another word, he took her mouth, plunging his tongue deep against the melting truffle, whirling it, lapping at it, sighing with the pleasure of it. The more liquid and heated the truffle became, the more liquid and heated Rita became.
‘The taste buds can distinguish wonderfully subtle flavours,’ he said between tongue dances. In the meantime he slipped his hand under her skirt, stopping to caress a suspender. Rita had always hated tights, and sexy or not, she preferred suspenders and stockings, which she found much less confining.
Still sharing the truffle in her mouth, he shoved aside the crotch of her panties and plunged a finger between her swollen labia, moaning his satisfaction at finding her so slippery and receptive.
She ground herself against his fingers. Wriggling and squirming until she was practically sitting on his palm, the heel of it rubbing deliciously against her clit, while they savoured the taste of the truffle.
He smeared chocolate against her lips as he whispered, ‘It’s amazing how closely linked scent and taste are.’ Then he pulled his hand from her panties, and she caught the salty
sweet scent of herself just before he plunged a wet finger into her mouth, allowing her to suckle her own juices.
‘You see? The taste is completely different when you add your own flavour.’ He pulled his fingers away to taste for himself, then plunged his tongue back into her mouth.
‘What about your flavour,’ she gasped when they came up for air, dribbling chocolate and saliva down their chins.
She didn’t have to ask twice. Suddenly they were tugging and pulling at his trousers and struggling to get them open enough to extricate his enthusiastic erection. When the warmth of it, the heavy shape of it, pressed against her hand, she dropped into a squat and took it into her mouth, finding him thick and smooth and slightly salty with a warm yeasty scent not unlike new-made bread, like pain au chocolat, she thought.
He curled his fingers in the waves of her hair and shifted his hips. She adjusted, nearly gagging in her efforts to take more of him into her mouth and still hang on to the last taste of chocolate as long as possible.
It was inevitable that her hand, the one not stroking Edward’s distended balls, would find its way between her legs.
But her fingers weren’t enough. She stood quickly, nearly bumping him in the chin with her head. ‘I want more than a taste,’ she gasped, already shoving her skirt up and turning her bottom to him, guiding his cock toward its goal. The thought crossed her mind that, if the lights came back on, they would very much be caught in the act. But when Edward spread her lips with warm fingers and slipped inside her, she forgot all about the risk and thrust back against him.
Surely people around them – even in the total darkness – could figure out what was going on. Who knew? Maybe some of them had also slipped hands in trousers or under skirts for some pleasurable relief from the stress of the situation.
She could tell by Edward’s bruising grip on her hips that he was about to come, and she was riding the edge of her own orgasm, just barely managing to hold back, just a little longer, just a few more seconds.
It hit with such force that for a moment she thought her worst fears had been realised, and there had been an explosion on the train. But there were no screams, though she was desperately trying to keep from screaming herself. That must surely mean that the explosion was personal.
In the midst of the intense pleasure hurtling through her, Edward grunted in her ear, ‘You still want to taste me? Let me come in your mouth.’
As she pulled off him, and they fumbled to switch positions, from somewhere he produced another truffle and shoved it into her mouth, followed in short succession by his engorged cock.
Quickly she cheeked the chocolate to make room for his penis, which she took as deep into her throat as she could, trying to savour both truffle and thrusting cock without choking on either.
The curl of his fingers in her hair tightened as he pulled her mouth further on to him with each thrust until, at last, he grunted the first spurt of semen into her mouth, which blended with the chocolate in an earthy richness that made her pussy twitch again. Chocolate and sex, chocolate and come. The taste alone catapulted her to another orgasm.
As his grip lessened on her hair, she knew exactly what to do next. Holding the last of his come in her cheek next to the truffle, she stood, took his face between her hands, and teased his lips apart, drizzling the blending of maleness and chocolate onto his tongue.
They were still gobbling hungrily at each other’s mouths when the conductor’s voice came over the intercom. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, a train has just arrived to tow us into Ashford. Upon our arrival, another train will be waiting for
those of you who wish to continue on to London St. Pancras. For those of you who would prefer, arrangements have been made to put you up at a hotel in Ashford for the night and get you safely on your way in the morning. Once again, we apologise for the inconvenience.’
The car erupted in a buzz of conversation as people discussed their options and their relief that at least something was finally happening.
‘What will you do?’ He asked. She heard him zip his fly, then she felt him carefully wiping between her pussy lips with what must have been his handkerchief.
‘I’ll stay,’ she said, opening her legs to his ministerings, almost wishing the conductor had kept his mouth shut long enough for round two. ‘With all the snow, I can’t get home even if I do get to London. You?’
‘I have to go.’ He pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of her thigh just above where the stocking was attached to the garter belt. ‘Business. It would have been lovely to continue the fun in a hotel room. But I
can’t. Not this time. Come on. Let me help you back to your seat.’
When they arrived in her car, by the light of his mobile, she found her place much more quickly than she would have liked. ‘Give me your phone,’ he said once she was seated.
She did as he asked. He keyed in something and handed it back. ‘Now you have my number. Text me.’ Then he gave her a brain searing kiss and left as the train lurched forward and gathered speed. She hadn’t even seen his face.
As you all know, I’m putting the final touches on To Rome with Lust, the third novel in The Mount Series, which will be out late this autumn, but I thought with summer travel and summer heat all around, it was time to tease and titillate just a little with some Roman lust. Enjoy!
Blurb To Rome with Lust:
The adventure that began with Rita Holly in London, then moved to Las Vegas with Nick Chase continues in Rome when a chance encounter among the Roman ruins has tourist, Liza Calendar, and perfumer, Paolo ‘The Nose’ Delacour, in sexy olfactory heaven. Pauolo is the heir apparent of Martelli Fragrance, a roll Rita Holly abdicated to lead the Mount in London. With her magnificently sensitive nose leading the way, Liza uncovers Martelli’s hidden secret –it’s the front for the original Mount, an international secret society with sexual rites into which Paolo is more than willing to initiate her.
But sexual exploration takes a turn for the unpleasant when someone steals perfume formulas and lays the blame at Liza’s feet. Together she and Paolo must sniff out the culprit and prove Liza’s innocence before more is exposed – and lost — than just secret formulas.
X-Rated Xcerpt To Rome with Lust:
There was the tinkle of an incoming text. She figured it was Addie and braced herself for a barrage of questions about Carl. But the text wasn’t from Addie, nor was it from Carl. It was from Paolo. Her heart went into free fall.
Did you make it to your hotel OK?
Just arrived. Staying in a flat, actually. It’s amazing! You?
In limo heading home.Have your missing undergarment in my pocket. Stroking it to stimulate your delicious scent. Pretty sure you can guess what I’m stroking with my other hand.
She laughed out loud. The rush of moist heat between her legs made her quiver. She slipped out of her sweater and unhooked the bra she had put back on before the plane landed. Then she gave both her girls a caress as she freed them.
Really, P! Sex in a limo is so cliché.
Really, L! With your scent all over me, and your memento in my pocket it’s more essential than it is cliché.
Ah yes, my missing undergarments. Thanks to you I left the poor cab driver’s leather back seat very slippery.
Where are your hands, you naughty woman?
On my BlackBerry, of course.
Lol! Liar.
Not lying at all. Keys getting sticky though.
You naked?
Still wearing skirt. Nothing! Else!
OMG, woman! What u do 2 me! Pic?
Her heart did a drum roll in her chest and her pussy clenched. Fuck! Had he just asked her to send him a picture? Double fuck! Was she actually considering it? She nearly dropped her BlackBerry as she texted back.
U sho me urs, I’ll sho u mine J
There was a long pause. Oh god! Had she misunderstood him? Had she offended him? She was in the middle of composing a quick apology when his text came through. Fucking hell! It was a picture of his very large, very thick erection resting in the cupped palm of his hand against the silky red backdrop of her panties. The text simply read:
Your turn.
This was insane. This was not the sort of thing she would ever in a million years do. Was it because she was in a foreign country with a man she’d more than likely never see again after she finished her assignment here? For that matter they might both wake up in the morning too embarrassed to even contemplate further contact. He wasn’t a some backpacker passing through. Fuck! She knew nothing about him other than that he’d been seated in the first class cabin. Maybe he was married. Maybe he was a pervert serial killer. For the briefest moment a picture of Carl’s bare arse shoving and humping at the bimbo on his kitchen counter flashed through her head. She caught her breath, shoved up her skirt and leaned back against the pillows splaying her legs wide and bent-kneed. Then she fingered open her engorged pussy lips and snapped the shot with her other hand.
A peek at it made her stomach summersault. It was just so brazen. Her pussy, center stage, wet and wild and on display between her fingers. Christ, she was insane, and she was so turned on at the very thought of Paolo, stroking his cock with her panties while getting an up close and personal of her love box in his in-box. She wiped her fingers on her skirt and quickly typed:
To Rome with Lust: Cumming soon in a bedroom near you.
There was another long pause, but she was way past thinking of aplogising as she fingered her wet spot and thumbed her clit with one hand while flipping back and forth between the two filthy photos with the other. She was damn near there when the next text came.
Just came on your panties.
Just came on my fingers, then wiped them on your handkerchief.
There was another long pause in which she imagined both of them catching their breath. Finally another text arrived just as she was drifting off against the mound of fluffy pillows.
Gotta go, Lovely L. I’m home. C u 2morro?
Her heart skipped a beat. He wanted to see her in spite of what they’d done!
WARNING ADULT CONTENT! 
fucking, don’t you?’
