I love this time of year, all crisp and crunchy and gorgeous colours everywhere. Colder evenings are perfect for snuggling in front of the fire with a good book. I’m really happy to be part of the Hot in Fall blog hop – there are loads of great authors taking part and plenty of prizes on offer, so make sure you visit and say hi :).
My contribution is an excerpt from my current WIP, A Double-Edged Sword, Book #4 in the Tales from the Edge series. Leave a comment and let me know what you think? Is it hot enough to warm your Autumn evenings? All commenters will be entered into a draw to win your choice of a Tale from the Edge.
Here’s the excerpt:
All the rooms available for private hire were well sound proofed. As Becket walked along the corridor the only noise was the slight squeak of the thick soles of his boots. He paused briefly outside the door to room eleven then grasped the handle firmly and opened it. For a moment, Becket forgot himself; he just stood and gaped. His heart pounded and his mouth went dry. Remembering that the door was wide open, he hurriedly pulled it closed and took a couple of steps into the room. Christian was displayed in front of him in a way that had his cock fighting to escape his leathers. I’m being punished, that’s what’s going on here. This is some kind of penance for being a crappy dom. I’m hard as fucking granite, trapped in a room with the most gorgeous sub ever created and I can’t fuck him. Well not yet anyway. Later. Definitely. Becket pulled himself together with an effort and let his eyes feast on the vision in front of him.
Christian’s arms were spread wide above his head, his wrists wrapped in leather cuffs attached to silver chains hanging from the ceiling. His legs were also spread wide, the short chains from his ankle cuffs linked to eyelets embedded in the stone floor. Every limb was stretched, every muscle defined. He was virtually naked; his only garment a snowy white g-string. His heels were off the floor and his arms took most of his weight. A strip of white silk was tied around his eyes, bright against the dark red of his hair.
Becket stepped forwards until he was within touching distance of Christian’s body. “I hope for your sake Christian that the only other person who’s seen you like this is Alistair.”
Christian licked his lips, “Yes Sir. No one else.” Becket clenched and unclenched his fist. He didn’t even like the idea that Alistair had seen Christian this way. He would make sure that it never happened again. Christian’s delectable body was for his eyes alone. He circled behind Christian and admired the rear view. A narrow strip of white silk separated buttocks that were firmly tensed. “Relax. You know I’m not going to hurt you.” On command Christian’s buttocks smoothed into shapely curves. “Tell me your safe word.” He already knew it of course; the word was engraved on his mind even though Christian had never used it when they were together.
“Martini, Sir.” That always made Becket smile. It was Christian’s oblique reference to Becket’s job with the intelligence service. Shaken not stirred. If only his job were as glamorous as James Bond’s. Unfortunately it was more about hard slog, long hours and sleep deprivation than fast cars and faster girls. Not that Becket would be interested in the girls, but he wouldn’t turn down an Aston Martin as his company car.
“Good. Now, I think it would be better if you could see what I’m doing to you, don’t you?” Becket unfastened Christian’s blindfold and threw it to one side. Christian blinked and gazed at him with his clear green eyes.
“It’s been three weeks since we were last together Christian. Have you seen anyone else since then?” Becket knew he hadn’t, he’d already heard it from Alistair and Carey, but he wanted Christian to confirm it.
“No Sir. I wouldn’t do that.”
Becket ran his hand down Christian’s smooth chest, “Why not? We don’t have a contract.” Becket immediately regretted his words as hurt flashed in Christian’s eyes. He hid it quickly but not fast enough for Becket’s sharp observational skills to miss it. Christian trembled as Becket ghosted his fingers lower, tracing the ridge of Christian’s cock through his skimpy underwear.
“No one else makes me feel the way you do Sir, I’m happy to wait for you.”
“And I’m happy that you do. I don’t want anyone else touching you Christian, but it wouldn’t be fair for me to demand exclusivity when I can’t even tell you when I’m going to be here.” He cupped Christian’s balls and squeezed gently. “But maybe you don’t care about fairness? Tell me what you want Christian, you can speak freely.”
Christian whimpered and Becket thought it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. He’d do anything to make Christian understand that he was valued and cherished, not just an occasional plaything.
“I want you to be demanding Sir. Order me. Tell me what to do.” Christian blushed and lowered his eyes.
“Even though I can’t be here all the time?”
Becket’s cock jerked happily. Christian enjoyed being controlled. Becket loved to do the controlling. Perhaps they did have as good a match as Alistair and Carey. He carried on fondling Christian’s package, “We’ll discuss this more at home.”
“At home Sir?”
“Yes, at home. That’s where I intend to take you later so that I can fuck you hard enough that I’ll be imprinted on your mind and your body while I’m away.”
Christian’s cock no longer fit beneath the tiny scrap of silk he was wearing. Becket ripped the fabric away, exposing him, and took a hard grip. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No Sir.” Christian gasped out the words and jerked his hips as much as he was able. Becket slapped his arse lightly, “None of that now. You don’t come until I say so.”